Rebecca Schwartz 05 - Other People's Skeletons

by Smith, Julie

  “Why? What’s going to happen?”

  “I’ll answer the question without reading it.”

  Okay, Ane. If she could do a trick, so could I. I wrote, folded, and sealed.

  Rosalie took the envelope, closed her eyes, and turned the envelope over. She rubbed it some. At no time did she open her eyes or even lower her chin. When she finally opened her eyes, she handed me the envelope. Her face was full of compassion, as if she could hardly bear to deliver the bad news.

  “My dear,” she said, “I’m afraid I can’t offer you a lot of hope. Honestly, I don’t see a future for this project. Now, things could change. I don’t know how hard you’re working on it now, or how far along it is, but I get the feeling, I really feel strongly, that nothing will change until you put a lot more energy behind it. I know it’s hard, trying to do two things at once, but I just don’t think this is going to fly until you’re able to devote a lot more time to it. Does that make any sense?”

  I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, and felt very ashamed of myself.

  Chris said, “Well? She got it, didn’t she? Will you tell what the question was?”

  “Rosalie, you tell them.”

  “Rebecca wanted to know when her book would be published.”

  I gasped. Her answer had been good, in fact perfect, but I’d had no idea she’d know exactly what the question was.

  “You aren’t writing a book!” Chris said.

  “Well, it was a parlor trick, so I asked a trick question. I figured if Rosalie was any good, she’d know it was a trick.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” said Rosalie. “A big part of this is knowing what questions to ask. If I’d thought to ask if you were sincere, I might have found out there was no book, and then I’d have really looked clever. Instead, I took the question literally.”

  I thought about her answer. “Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with your information source. But how did you know the question?”

  She turned her palms up. “I went to see another psychic who does this same thing, out of a garage down the peninsula. Couldn’t believe it, but couldn’t resist trying. What do you know, it worked. I haven’t got a clue how I do it. But I do have to hold the paper; that much I figured out. Now Ivan’s clairsentient, so you’d think he’d be the one, but he only gets it if it’s a relationship question. You’d think health would be his specialty, but Moonblood’s better on that. Your partner, by the way, is a genius on fire.”

  “Fire? Why didn’t you tell us about the Oakland Hills?” Hundreds of homes there had been destroyed by fire the year before.

  “Nobody asked me,” said Chris. “But remember that time I told you your transmission sounded funny and you’d better have it checked?”

  “I was impressed that you knew what a transmission sounded like. But it wasn’t that, by the way. It was something to do with the gas line and the manifold.”

  “I don’t even know what a horn sounds like. I just knew something in there was about to go up in flames.”

  “Oh.” This was a little like having a guardian angel.

  “Well, look, let’s do your reading. You get to ask us a question, and we’ll all work on it.”

  Rosalie said, “Okay, we’re going to ground. That means we’ll get ourselves in a receptive state, like a focus. In fact, why don’t I start it, and then everybody can finish their own way.”

  “Wait. How do you know when you’re ready to read?”

  Chris said, “I get a little body sensation.”

  “A twitch or a tickle or what?”

  “Well, it’s like—” She stopped, looked puzzled. “Maybe it isn’t a body sensation. It’s kind of a ‘ping’, only it isn’t a sound.”

  “That certainly clears things up,” said Tanesha. She looked at me. “Look, you just know, okay?”

  “Let’s go,” said Rosalie, and they all closed their eyes. “Imagine you have a red cord running down your spine, all the way, till it comes out your body. Drop it now, drop it into the Earth; drop it through the floor, through the neighbor’s apartment, through all seven floors to the basement. Drop it through the basement, into the soft Earth. Go down gradually, ever gradually through the layers; go through the roots you find there, down, down, until you hit bedrock, and go through the bedrock, down, down, until it starts to get warm. Go farther, till you get to the Earth’s core, its molten white-hot core, and start to draw some of the Earth’s energy up through your cord.”

  She went on another few minutes, during which the Raiders were instructed to raise the Earth’s energy into their bodies and then return it to the Earth on the left side of the cord, so that a continual circuit was formed. I didn’t get it, but it certainly wasn’t spooky, and I did see how it could focus your mind. Gradually, each person’s eyes popped open. Ivan asked for something of mine to hold, and I gave him my watch.

  Rosalie said, “Everybody ready?”

  Nods all around.

  “What’s the question?”

  I thought a minute. I could have asked about The Thing, but I was going to know the answer soon enough anyway. I said, “What should I do about my relationship with my boyfriend?”

  “Julio?” said Chris.

  I stared at her.

  She shrugged. “Well, you’ve been spending a lot of time with Rob lately. Also, you’re into trick questions.”

  “Julio.”

  They closed their eyes again.

  Chris opened hers first. “Marry him,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Just kidding. I don’t think I can do this because I know you so well and I’m crazy about Julio. I did get that, but I think it was simple envy talking.”

  Ivan said, “I’m getting a pun, I think. Is there anything we should know about Julio involving water?”

  “Well, he’s a marine biologist.”

  “Damn! That’s it. Okay, so the relationship is not necessarily ‘all wet,’ huh?”

  “I don’t know. It could be. We seem to have some insurmountable problems.”

  Rosalie said, “Let me take a shot. Rebecca, I know it seems like the problems are insurmountable, but I’m not sure that’s the case. I think you’ve been hurt by someone else, maybe you feel more or less betrayed, and Julio is a very warm person; a very giving person; and you love him for that. You need that. But right now I think you don’t realize how afraid you are that the same thing might happen with him that happened before. So you’re reluctant to get too involved and therefore the problems seem bigger than they really are. The thing is, the relationship is great for Julio for the same reason.

  “I like this guy. He’s a truly generous-hearted man. But he’s in the same place you are. Something bad happened to him— is he divorced?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s it then. He hasn’t really gotten over the divorce.” She put up a hand. “Not the marriage. He’s over the marriage, he doesn’t want the ex-wife back, he just doesn’t want to make himself that vulnerable again. Yet. Now things could definitely change, just like with that book of yours, but he’s enjoying being with you partly because he thinks the problems are insurmountable, therefore he doesn’t have to make up his mind to be vulnerable again. Does that make any sense?”

  My stomach had done something, but I wasn’t sure what. Maybe it was one of those physical sensations Chris mentioned that aren’t really physical. Kind of a ping that wasn’t. It was something I got sometimes with certain clients I didn’t really trust. I got it when they were telling the truth.

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “Tanesha?”

  “I like this guy. You did all right for yourself, Miss Becky.” I flinched— no one calls me Becky. “This is one fine dude. I get the feeling that down the line you two might work something out, but I don’t think the time’s right for now. Has marriage been mentioned?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” Not even living together.

  “You come from a family that expects a lot of you, don’t
you?”

  I’d never thought of it like that, but I supposed it was true.

  “See, they expect a lot from you so you expect a lot of yourself. I get the feeling you think you’ve got to know where you’re going, with everything you do. You’ve got to have goals. Well, maybe you don’t right now. Maybe the best thing you could do in this situation is just relax and enjoy it. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s how I see it.”

  Moonblood said, “Yeah, I haven’t got anything to add. The guy’s good stuff, I guess we all agree on that. But I’m getting something weird, and the more I try to figure it out, the less sense it makes. So I’ll just tell you and see if it means anything. It’s the moon. Not a full moon, and not a crescent— sort of a half moon I guess you’d say.”

  “I— uh— no, I guess I can’t figure it out.” Secretly, I thought it had something to do with her name. “Do you get moons a lot?”

  “No, but I do get these real practical kinds of things. Really, really straightforward. That’s kind of my thing.”

  I shrugged. For the life of me, I couldn’t make it mean anything.

  Ivan said, “There’s another person here. Didn’t anyone see another person?”

  My heart fluttered.

  “Don’t worry, it’s not a rival. Nothing like that. Just someone Julio’s worried about; and you’re worried too. But you’re not worried about the person, you’re worried about yourself, how you’ll be with him or her, I can’t tell which it is. Wait a minute! It’s a kid, isn’t it? Does Julio have a kid?”

  “Esperanza.”

  He nodded. “I see her now. He doesn’t want her to get hurt. He’s afraid if you two get any closer and you dump him, the kid’ll be hurt. And you’re not sure you’re ready to be a mother. Is that it?”

  I wasn’t ready to be a mother? I hadn’t even thought about that aspect of it. Would I be Esperanza’s mother? A lot of the time I would. A scary thought.

  I saw what Ivan meant.

  “Listen to the man,” said Tanesha. “Relationships are his thing.”

  They haven’t told me anything I didn’t know, I thought. But I had to admit they’d given me some new ways of thinking about things. I liked the relax-and-enjoy-it theory.

  “Come on, let’s do Chris,” said Moonblood.

  Chris said, “Yes. Now or never.”

  “What’s the question?”

  “Let’s do two. First, let’s just look at some names and see if we can get anything on whether they killed Jason. Then let’s do, ‘How can I get out of this mess?’”

  “Are you going to read?” I was puzzled.

  “I can look at the names, but I don’t really trust myself. Everybody ready? Adrienne, Tommy, Vanda.”

  “Just first names? Why is that?”

  “Who knows? But usually it’s all you need.” Moonblood said, “Adrienne’s turning black on me. Is she black?”

  “No.”

  “Well, something’s wrong. She’s not well.”

  “She tried to kill herself today.”

  Moonblood and Ivan nodded. Ivan said, “I can’t tell if she killed him, though. Just that she feels really bad about it. Almost like she’s guilty, but when I ask the question she doesn’t light up.”

  “How about Tommy?”

  “Shit, girl, good thing this one’s not your partner’s boyfriend. Know how I get those stupid songs sometimes? I get ‘Mack the Knife’ on Mr. Tommy. This dude is nobody to mess around with. I don’t see him in that car, though. On the other hand, I wouldn’t want to be in the same room with him and a sharp object.”

  “Anybody else?”

  Rosalie said, “I don’t think it’s any of them.”

  “Okay, Felicity.”

  They got nothing on her either. Ivan said, “Come on, this is Mickey Mouse. Let’s do the other question.”

  “Okay. What can I do to get out of this?”

  This time they sat with their eyes closed a long time, nearly five minutes, I thought.

  Finally, Tanesha opened hers and said, “It’s funny, but I don’t think you’re in any danger except from the cops. I don’t see any enemies. But how can that be?”

  Moonblood said, “I’m getting one of my weird advice things. Go home and look in your kitchen. Does that mean anything?”

  “Dirty dishes.”

  “Could ‘kitchen’ be a metaphor?” I asked. “Let’s see. A place where there’s food. A restaurant. A sort of back room in a house— maybe in the head? Something on a back burner?”

  Moonblood shook her head. “My stuff is much too literal. If I got kitchen, it probably meant that. So do me a favor— go home and look in your kitchen, okay?”

  Chris smiled. “I’m so depressed I was going to have some ice cream anyway.”

  Rosalie said, “Chris, I get the feeling the answer is connected with something in the past.”

  I was disappointed. How smart did you have to be to figure that out?

  Chris said, “You mean like a fight with someone? Something like that?”

  “I don’t think so.” She closed her eyes again. “It’s not the distant past, either, but it’s long past in your mind.”

  Ivan nodded. “I’m getting, like a floor under a bed with dust mice all over it. And maybe one old shoe.”

  “Like I swept it under the rug?”

  “More like you just forgot about it.”

  “Oh, great. So my right course of action is remember it.”

  Everyone looked downcast.

  “You mean that’s all.”

  We were quiet. Disappointment filled the room like the buzzing of a fly. Finally, Rosalie spoke, looking at me. “This stuff is bits and pieces, like mosaic tiles. If we could get a whole picture…”

  “…we could win the lottery,” Ivan and Moonblood said together. I gathered Rosalie had mentioned this notion before.

  “I just want to say one other thing,” Tanesha said. “I asked if you needed to look out for danger. And I got that whoever set you up wasn’t really malicious.”

  “They murdered somebody!”

  “I mean toward you. You know … at least you don’t have to worry about anything from that quarter.”

  On the way home, Chris grumbled mightily. “Some friend, right? They just happened to set me up because— what?— I was handy? Well, isn’t that just great— no enemy.”

  “You always said you didn’t have one.”

  “Now I wish I did.”

  There’s no pleasing some people. As for me, I thought I got a great reading. It had definitely made a believer out of me, especially that funny thing Moonblood said, once I figured it out. Julio and I had joked about moving to some midpoint between our two towns. Half Moon Bay would be just about right.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rob was in my office when I arrived the next morning. “I've been doing a little spadework.”

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Yeah. Now listen—”

  “Caffeine first, okay?”

  Kruzick loved nothing better than serving coffee to clients. It was all we could do to keep him from wearing a little French maid’s uniform with biscuit hat for the task. And half the time, despite our best efforts, he affected a falsetto accent while pouring anyway. All very amusing, une petite role reversal, tris charmante. Except that he made inhumanly egregious coffee. We’d tried everything, including watching him through each step, and he got no better. We went through about ten kinds of coffee-makers till we finally found one that, for some reason, seemed to click with him. Now his coffee was close to drinkable. He insisted on pouring it into a china pot and serving it in thin cups with saucers.

  This morning, in answer to my request, he arrived tray in hand, carefully lined with a starched white napkin, and he wore an embroidered apron. “Cafi pour m’sieu et mam’selle? Madeleine?” He had a plate of cookies on the tray.

  “Alan, I appreciate the service, but the bunny dip really isn’t necessary.”

  “Oh, pas probl
eme, mam’selle. Nous aimons a plaisir.”

  See what I have to put up with? Why can’t Mickey go out with a nice doctor?

  When the drug had started to work (about the third sip), Rob blurted his news: “I found out Adrienne’s mother committed suicide about six months ago.”

  “That poor girl must have been through hell. No wonder she’s so depressed.” I paused and thought about it. “What do we know about the suicide? Had she been ill?”

  “I can’t find out anything. Adrienne’s dad clams up on the subject. I talked to him this morning.” He stopped and sipped for a minute. “Well, I might as well tell you the whole thing. I found out about the mom from the famous Danno— you know the ex-boyfriend she keeps talking about? She’d called him a few times, and he finally called her back. But he got nervous because he couldn’t reach her either at Jason’s or her dad’s, so he called the Chronicle and finally the call got to me. Anyway, he let it slip about the mom, but he didn’t know the details; so I went over to the hospital and found Mr. Dunson there— what’s his name?— Fred, I think. He wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “What do you mean wouldn’t talk to you? He said ‘no comment’ or flipped you off, or what?”

  “I mean, he just sat in a corner with his head down and wouldn’t acknowledge I was there. Finally, I got worried, thinking, what with his wife dying and now his daughter in intensive care, maybe he’d gone off the deep end or something. So I started saying was he okay, and he really had to buck up— don’t throw up now….”

  “No, I think that’s nice.”

  “…and he went ballistic on me. Started yelling it was none of my business and to butt out of his life. As you can imagine, all hell broke loose in the hospital. White-coated people came from miles around, and he got this look, like a cornered fox— I don’t blame him, it must have been terrifying. Maybe he thought they were going to lock him up or something, I don’t know, but it was abundantly obvious he felt the time had come to leave, and he wasn’t sure they were going to let him. So he knocked me down to clear a path.”

  “Knocked you down?” My voice was a little weird, but I thought I was going to be all right.