by Jim Johnson
She glanced at me and shook her head. I suspected she would do so, but it never hurt to be polite to someone offering you breakfast.
She opened one of the wall ovens and produced a tray of bacon, which had a sweet smoked smell and the telltale crackle that I considered one of my few genuine guilty pleasures. She walked over with the tray and scooped out three pieces for each of us, then placed the tray on a cooling pad on the longer end of her marble countertop.
It was then that I realized she had set two places at the counter—two glasses of orange juice, two sets of silverware, bread plates, and tea cups.
She picked up the steeping kettle of tea off the counter and poured us each a cup. I glanced at her as she put the kettle back on the counter. “How did you know I’d be here for breakfast?”
She lifted her cup to her mouth and experimentally sipped the tea. “Mister Parkour.”
I frowned and glanced at the closed doorway where the cat in question had vacated the house. “Your cat told you I was coming here?” I utterly failed to keep the skepticism out of my voice. Poor manners for a guest probably, but sometimes I couldn’t help speaking my mind.
“Of course not. He sits with me when I meditate in the morning, and he got a little too enthusiastic with the scrying stones. The pattern that resulted from my meditation of the heart and his manipulation of the paws revealed your arrival.”
She lifted her fork and gestured at the bacon and veggies on my plate. “Eat before it gets cold.”
I couldn’t let it go. “So, you’re telling me your cat played with some crystals and you saw an image of me coming here this morning?”
She munched thoughtfully on a piece of crispy bacon, swallowed quietly, and then nodded. “Simplistic, but ultimately the correct response.”
I shook my head, bemused at her and not sure how else to proceed. The food did smell good, though, and I was suddenly ravenous.
We sat together and ate. For a few minutes the only sounds were our forks scraping food off the plates and quiet smacking sounds as we ate.
About halfway through the meal, she glanced at me. “How you like the pendant? I’m happy to see it on a new chain. I thought Bonita would sell it quickly.”
I raised my free hand to touch the pendant, still under my t-shirt. “How did you know...?”
She smiled. “I had that crystal for many years, girl. I can still feel it. Its power is as potent as the day I received it.” She reached over and patted my closest hand. “But don’t you worry. I made sure to cleanse it before I dropped it off at the store for consignment.”
I chewed a mouthful of roasted vegetables and thought about that, then stared hard at Miss Chin. Would she be as open-minded as Bonita?
I sipped some OJ and then cleared my throat and glanced at her. “I guess it’s clean, but... It spoke to me in the store.”
She didn’t seem to react at all to that; merely glanced at me as if I had simply told her the sky was blue or that her cat was furry. “And what did it have to say?”
I blinked, actually surprised at how nonchalantly we were talking about freaking talking crystals. “I...uh, it told me to fix the chain, I think.” I paused, then added, “Putting a new chain on it seemed to be the right thing to do.”
Miss Chin smiled and helped herself to another piece of crispy bacon. “Sometimes it’s so easy to put things to right, to put them at rest.” And then she frowned. “And sometimes so hard, too.”
She glanced at me over another forkful of veggies. “So you heard it and made a choice and now you wear it. How does that make you feel?”
I placed my fork on the counter next to the plate and frowned. How did I feel? “I don’t know. I guess good? I felt like the pendant was pretty enough in its setting, but that it somehow felt more right to be on a chain around my neck.”
“’Felt more right’. Hmm.” She stared across her kitchen at the crystal inset into her back door, a frown elongating her mouth. “Well, it’s a start.”
It was my turn to frown. “A start to what?”
She finished off her food and shrugged. “So much to learn, so much to do.” She glanced at me. “What you know about Kareena?”
I shook my head, confused all over again. “Who?”
She focused her deep black eyes on me. “Kareena Mathison. Murdered in 1974 outside her home, just a couple dozen blocks away. Very sudden, as most murders are, and a very sad end.”
I wracked my brain for any insight as to what or who she could be talking about. And then it hit me.
“Karee—the woman I saw last night? The black woman in the alleyway with the caved-in face?”
Miss Chin looked sorrowful then, and made a little gesture with her fingers that I couldn’t hope to guess at a meaning. “Dead, all these years, unsolved and unshriven. Waiting to be led to the Veil, but lost.”
I stared at her, my mouth agape. “What?”
“Lost. In need of direction. Looking for peace.”
I nearly jumped off the stool. My fork clattered on the counter. “What did you say?”
Miss Chin had an unreadable look on her face. “Poor Kareena. Murdered years ago and in need of peace.” She focused on me. “Why?”
I stared at her with a mix of surprise and dread. “How…how could you possibly know what she said to me?”
Miss Chin scrunched up her face in a look of confusion. Fortunately, just then my cell phone buzzed.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. It had been my reminder for the lunch with Robert and Abbie.
I sighed and pocketed the phone and then refocused on Miss Chin. “I really need to know more about whatever the hell you’re talking about, but I gotta get my butt into the city so that I can meet my lousy brother.”
Miss Chin nodded, any sign of her earlier confusion gone. “Family must come first.” She stood up. “But you come back soon to talk more. Kareena needs your help.”
I got off my stool and started for the front door, at a loss of what to say. “What can I do to help a ghost?”
Miss Chin moved around me faster than I thought her capable of and held a hand on the door to keep me from opening it. The softness of her features suggested she didn’t mean me any harm, so I wasn’t too alarmed. Well, maybe a little.
“You don’t understand yet, but you have the ability to help her and others like her. I can sense it.” She stared into my eyes, and then pointed toward my neck, where the pendant hung beneath my shirt. “The crystal showed you. Trust the crystal. They cannot lie.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I should trust a hunk of rock hanging around my neck?”
Miss Chin nodded once, firmly. “Of course. The ancient rocks are wiser than you think.”
I stared at her, waiting for her to crack a smile and tell me this was all some big joke, but…I guess the joke was on me. She kept her serious face on the whole time.
My phone buzzed again. I shook my head and indicated the door. “I really gotta go. But…” I stared at her and then nodded. “But I’ll be back. I want to hear more.”
Miss Chin smiled and then pulled open the door. Mister Parkour, standing just outside the screen door, let out an impressively loud yowl.
“I guess he wants to come in.” I reached out and opened the screen door. Mister Parkour slid into the gap between the door and the jamb and sauntered into the foyer and then padded up the hardwood stairs.
I watched him go, and then re-focused on Miss Chin, who had apparently not stopped staring at me. “I’ll come back soon. And maybe you can explain to me just how you think I can help the ghost of a murdered woman.”
Chapter 13
I LEFT MISS CHIN’S PLACE AND ran as fast as I could back home. I got showered and changed in record time and fairly flew out of the house (after checking to be sure the stupid lights and oven were off—thanks, Penny) and made it to the bus stop to catch the next bus into the city. Didn’t even have to wait more than a few minutes—I guess sometimes things go my way.
Once at the restaurant, I met up with Abbie and we found a table while we waited for Robert to show up.
I leaned across the table and rested my hand on Abbie’s for like the tenth time. “Really, I’m so glad you’re here.”
She smiled at me, perfect white teeth breaking through her espresso-colored skin. “You’ve said as much, sweetie.” She patted my hand. “You’re nervous; you’ll be fine.”
I stared toward the restaurant’s entrance, trying to look through the downtown crowd for my brother. It was just after eleven and he hadn’t shown up yet. I was starting to think he was gonna stand me up again.
I glanced at Abbie as she flicked the straw with her tongue before sucking up some Sprite. “It’s not like he hasn’t ignored me before. If he misses this date, it’ll be the third time.”
Abbie forked some salad into her mouth. “He’s not the most reliable person in the world.”
I snorted around a bite out of my turkey and brie wrap and then washed it down with a healthy swig of tea. “If he doesn’t show up, I’m really screwed.” I glanced at her. “I mean, we’re really screwed. Without that...money...” I hated calling it my allowance—it felt so junior high to call it that—“…we’re going to struggle to make rent for next month.”
Abbie ate another forkful of salad and then raised the fork. “We’ll be all right. I have enough set aside for us to get by for a while.” She offered a warm smile. “We’re not going to get thrown out any time soon, honey. We still have six months on our lease.”
“Yeah, unless Penny kicks us out.”
Abbie glanced at the press of people waiting to make their order. “I know you and Penny have a challenging relationship and I know you don’t really like her, but she’s not so mean that she’s going to toss us out without a good reason. We pay our rent on time and we’re good tenants.” She paused, glanced at me, and quirked up the side of her mouth. “Well, mostly. Except when we leave the lights and oven on.”
I opened my mouth to retort, even though I knew she was just tweaking me, but just then Robert pushed his way in through the throng and headed toward our table.
As he neared, I pulled my satchel off the spare chair I was holding for him. Chairs are a precious commodity in a sandwich spot at lunch rush—I’d had to fend off several people for the chair and gotten plenty of dirty looks for my trouble.
Robert nodded as he settled into the seat. “Thanks, Rachel.” He sort of perched on the edge of the seat, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
I took another bite of my wrap and sized him up, not liking the vibe I was getting off him. “You have the look of someone not planning to hang around long.”
He shook his head. “I can’t linger. I gotta get back to a budget meeting. This proposal we’re working on is due tomorrow and two of the subcontractors are giving us grief about their rates.”
I’d largely glazed over after ‘budget meeting’ but nodded as if I understood. I pointed to my half-wrap and remaining parmesan-dusted chips. “Want some of mine? I don’t think I can eat it all.”
Abbie snorted and gave Robert a grin. “She’s lying. She could eat that whole thing if she wanted to.”
Robert smiled, and I was confident he was being his usual perfunctory self, which meant he was armed with bad news. I tried to keep my heart from sinking into my stomach, but it felt like it was on free-fall.
He adjusted his position so that he was facing me. “Look, Rachel, I really gotta get back, but I have this for you.”
He pulled out a white business envelope, sealed with a piece of clear tape, and passed it across the table, as if we were druggies doing a trade.
I stared at the envelope. It didn’t look nearly as thickly packed as I had hoped. “What’s that?”
He gestured to it, looking uncomfortable. “That’s your monthly stipend, of course.“
I poked at the envelope with my fork. “Do I want to know why it’s kinda...flat?”
Abbie forked some salad into her mouth, her eyes darting between me and Robert. She liked Robert well enough, about as much as anyone who might like a potential in-law who they had nothing in common with. I wasn’t so sure what Robert thought of her, though. Not that I needed his approval or permission or anything, but he was my brother and it’d be nice if he could at least be happy for me.
He stared at me and in a low voice, said, “It’s just over five hundred dollars.”
My throat suddenly got tight, like a piece of brie was stuck in it.
“Five hundred?” I sputtered around the lodged chunk of brie. “I was expecting two grand, Robert! That’s what you told me I’d get the last time we had one of these stupid ‘budget meetings’.”
He raised a hand as if to encourage me to keep my voice down. I reached out and swiped the envelope off the table and shoved it into my lap.
He said, “I know, and I’m sorry. I had intended to give you two grand, plus a little more for your trouble, but I got vetoed by mom.”
I shot him the most hurt look I could muster, which wasn’t that hard to do—I was hurt. “She’s not married to dad any more—not even part of this stupid family anymore. Why would you listen to her?”
He lifted his hands in supplication, a move I knew all too well from our childhood. It meant that he’d gotten away with a shitty thing and there wasn’t anything I was going to be able to do about it.
God, I hated that feeling.
I glanced at Abbie, whose soft eyes were practically begging me to be cool, especially here in the restaurant.
I took a deep breath, let it out, and then impulsively shot my hand across the table and clenched it tight over Robert’s wrist and dug my nails in. I hadn’t played rough with him in forever. Perhaps it had been too long.
“Robert, this is so unfair. How do they expect me to live off five hundred dollars a month? That’s like...” I worked the math in my head, though I think I tapped my tongue against my teeth a few times to help count. I had been a liberal arts major—math wasn’t my thing.
“That’s like fifteen dollars a day. No one lives on that.”
He shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Rachel. I...look.” He leaned in toward me, and I just knew that he was about to dump some grade-A bullshit.
“Mom and Dad know that you...” He glanced at Abbie. “That, uh, you’re living pretty much rent-free right now, and don’t think they need to subsidize your housing expenses since you, you know...”
He glanced at Abbie again, and then focused on me. “Since you don’t have any housing expenses.”
Abbie took a sip of Sprite. “But I do, Robert.”
He nodded. “But you also have a steady full time job working for the government, Abbie. My parents know you’re flush.” He shrugged. “Or at least if not flush, then in a place that paying rent for two people isn’t a hardship for you.”
I stared at Robert. “Even without rent to pay, how am I supposed to live on fifteen dollars a day? I don’t think I can even eat for that little a day. Even if I walked everywhere rather than take public transit.”
Robert stared at me. “You could get off your ass and get a real job, you know.”
My mouth nearly hit the table, it popped open so quick. Abbie made a little intake of air like she’d been gut-punched.
I stood up so fast from the table that my chair went skittering away behind me. I barely registered the yelp from somewhere back there. I clenched both my hands into fists and stared at Robert with fire in my heart and eyes.
Robert shot back his sleeve, glancing at the gold watch strapped to his wrist. “Look, I gotta get back.” I narrowed my eyes and focused on his watch. A tiny little spark of electric blue energy flashed into being, arced into his watch, and then dissipated.
As I stared at him and his watch in surprise—I was positive I had seen a flash of blue light—he glanced down at his watch again and then frowned. He tapped its blackened face and then held it up to his ear. “Shit. I thought this was a real Rolex. I got cheated.”
&n
bsp; The anger was still coursing through me, though it had stalled and been partially replaced by surprise and wonder. I know I had seen a spark of blue energy and I was pretty sure I had created it somehow and had used it to torch his watch.
And somehow I didn’t feel too bad about that.
Robert stood up and pointed toward the envelope that had fallen from my lap. “Look. Enjoy the money but be smart with it. I don’t know—look up a budget plan online. I’ll talk to mom and dad and see if they’ll come around to giving you more next month. I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“Don’t do me any favors, Robert. You seem to have a hard time with that as it is.”
He stared at Abbie and then back to me. “Seriously, Rachel. Write up some sort of resume and start looking for a job. Join the real world.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a finger. “I mean a real job with a predictable salary and benefits. I know you like Bonita and that stupid little mommy shop she runs, but you’re not going to make a living there unless she signs the place over to you.”
I opened my mouth, shut it, then opened it again, but nothing came out. I just gaped at him, speechless in my hurt and anger.
He backed away from the table, gesturing at his broken watch. “I’m sorry, I really gotta go.” And then he turned and he was gone.
All I could do was blink away angry tears and stare at the crowd in the doorway. I had five hundred dollars to get me through to next month, plus whatever little bit I could scrape up helping at Bonita’s place.
I felt tears of frustration welling up, and I moved over to sit down in the chair Robert had vacated. I focused tentatively on Abbie, who looked equally as hurt on my behalf. I stared at her.
“God damn it.”
Chapter 14
TO HER CREDIT, ABBIE GOT ME up and out of the restaurant quickly, so that I didn’t accidentally make any more of a scene than I already had. She walked me down a block or two through the throng of people, and then guided me toward an open bench facing Constitution Avenue.