Becoming Indigo

by Tara Taylor

  “I’m so happy for you.” She plucked her strings with her pick. “I’ll have to drop by this store.” She looked tired, and her voice sounded dull.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You, uh, seen Green Lady today?” I asked quietly.

  “Thank God, no.” Natalie blew out air. “I tell you, I’m still freaked.”

  “I talked to my boss. She is going to help us. By the end of the week.”

  Natalie tried to smile. “A few more days, eh? I hope she stays away.” She pointed to my guitar. “Let’s jam. Our music might drown her out.”

  I picked up my guitar from the corner of the room and strummed a few chords. “What do you want to play?”

  We played for another hour, and when Sarah came home, she joined us on her bongos. The louder we played, the better we all felt. Then Natalie pulled out her fiddle and we really made noise, clapping and tapping. The night cruised by at just the right speed, and around ten, my eyelids got really heavy and my shoulders felt droopy, and I couldn’t stop yawning. I begged off and went to my room, closing the door tightly behind me. She hadn’t come to see us tonight.

  I flopped on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Although I was dog tired, I couldn’t sleep. I was so hyped with everything that was happening around me. My cards. I was supposed to be doing my homework.

  Homework in the summer? Now that was just plain stupid.

  Or was it? I wasn’t getting graded.

  I got my purse.

  Shuffling the cards, I sat cross-legged on my bed with Henry curled up beside me. After I knocked them like Annabelle told me to, I played around again with how to shuffle them, but I kept fumbling. Honestly, I thought the cards were a bit weird. I mean, really, answers in cards?

  Annabelle said to practice, but perhaps I should test them to see if they were helpful. Testing was good. If the answers came out wrong, then I would know the cards didn’t work. I could ask questions I knew the answers to, just to see if the angels could come to me like they were supposed to.

  I kept shuffling. She had also told me to call on my divine team and my angels to help me.

  “Okay, team, and that means you, too, angels,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm, “I need you to show up and play cards.”

  The shuffling became easier, the cards swishing from one pile to the next. What question to ask? What if I just picked something stupid? I put the cards down on my bed.

  “Is my mom going to get that new job at the hospital?”

  My mom already had the new job, so what the heck. This was a good question.

  I turned over a card. Fulfillment. With the number 26.

  I could hear my mother’s voice in my head: “I really want the job, because it will be so fulfilling.”

  “Okay,” I said. “That was a fluke.” I didn’t even bother to read the book.

  I shuffled and asked the question, “Will Brian be a businessman?” I giggled. That was all he ever wanted in life.

  The cards slapped against one another as I continued to shuffle. Finally, I put them down and picked one. Fulfillment again. Brian has always said the only way he felt fulfilled was when he made money.

  I shuffled again—like, really shuffled. No way could I get the same card three times, not after this shuffle job. “Does my dad like golf?” I said out loud, with a bit of cockiness. Dad loved golfing.

  I almost threw the cards against the wall when I turned over the Fulfillment card again.

  All right, I thought. I had to come up with better questions. That was bizarre, getting the same card three times.

  I shuffled the cards for at least a minute, thinking of a question. Suddenly, I blurted out, “Why is Paul in my life?” If any kind of love or true relationship card came up, I would know the cards were wrong. Inwardly, I laughed. I so hoped the cards would be wrong.

  I flipped over the top card. Synchronicity. The number 20 was on the bottom of the card. This was not at all what I had expected. This time, I opened the book to read the explanation.

  I read down the page where it talked about how everything happened for a reason. I thought about meeting Paul twice. Then I read, “Some synchronicities are obvious: meeting the same person in unlikely places…”

  It really was kind of weird how I’d met him on the beach and then he just so happened to come into the Annabelle’s Angels store. I kept reading until I got to the last line: “Even if you don’t want to move on, the events in your life show you that a greater purpose is being played out.”

  I wanted to move on. Didn’t I? Thoughts of John flooded my brain. I snapped the book shut and picked up the cards. That answer was lucky, in its kind-of-right way. It wasn’t really right. Or was it?

  I bet I could stump them with another question. I shuffled again, then carefully placed the cards down. Henry meowed, and I stroked his back and talked to him. “They’ll not get this one right, I bet.” I lifted him and kissed his little face.

  Then I asked the question. “Will I ever get back with John?”

  I knew the answer to that, and it was a definite no.

  After I had said the words, the assuredness that I could outsmart the cards dissolved. I sucked in a deep breath and slowly turned over the top card. Vulnerability. And lucky number 13.

  Immediately, I picked up the book, checked the index, and flipped to the pages explaining this card. The flower on the card had a golden center, but surrounding it were sharp, dark spears. Conflict. The card was about a relationship that was full of conflict. My heart picked up its pace when I read the part where I was supposed to take back my power and that I was to pick the relationship in my life that was important to me and in most need of change and make decisions about it.

  “But I’ve already made the decision to not be with him,” I said to the card. “So you are kind of wrong.”

  No, you haven’t! You’re still thinking of him all the time. You want him back.

  You have unfinished business with him—that’s all the card is saying. Isaiah spoke softly.

  “You came when I called, didn’t you?” I whispered to him, trying to ignore my harsh, mean voice.

  Of course I’m here. I’m part of the team.

  I picked up the cards again and started shuffling. They weren’t right. They just couldn’t be right. John was out of my life. I shuffled faster and faster. I had another really important question to ask, and it had to do with John.

  Once again, I put the cards on my bed. This time, I fanned them out and placed my hands about an inch above the cards, just as Annabelle had shown me. I closed my eyes and moved my hands over the cards, letting myself be drawn into them. The question sat on the end of my tongue. I couldn’t say it out loud. I just couldn’t. Suddenly, I heard a buzzing and my hand started to tremble. I opened my eyes and stared at a card in the middle of the pile that seemed to be moving, vibrating, pulsing.

  “Am I supposed to tell John about his mother?” The question was almost sucked out of me.

  I flipped over the card. Number 24. Trust.

  That made no sense. My body stilled, and I stared at the pretty purple flower on the card. I had seen that flower today in Annabelle’s store, on the bracelet. I had picked it up, played with it.

  The flower started to spin!

  And spin.

  And the purple became white. My mind went blank. I saw John’s mother’s face, and she was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear her; it was as if she had no voice.

  I tuned my ears, wanting to hear her, but nothing. Then … like a stab from a knife, a pain hit my lower abdomen, and I doubled over. I gasped for air. It was excruciating. I breathed in and out, willing it to stop.

  And just like that, my vision snapped, and I was back in my room with the Trust card staring me in the face.

  What had just happened?

  I snatched the book up and, my hands still trembling, tried to find the Trust page. All the words blurred on the page except “Your own intuiti
on about other people and circumstances is symbolically as brilliant and clear as the center of this flower.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I whispered.

  The next morning when my alarm went off, I groaned. My sleep had been so deep and dreamless—or at least I’d had none that I could remember. Thankfully, Green Lady hadn’t come to visit last night. I don’t think I could have handled her.

  At the store, I didn’t tell Annabelle about practicing with the cards or what questions I had asked or about the horrible stomach pains I felt when I saw images of John’s mother.

  The day started off with the same routine of Annabelle taking clients. After her first client left, I noticed the bags under Annabelle’s eyes and her pupils that looked so dull and lifeless.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Some friends came over last night, and I forgot to protect myself.”

  “Oh,” I said. I had no idea what she was talking about, although yesterday she had mentioned something about protection.

  She shook her head. “I need to practice what I preach.” As if reading my thoughts, she pointed her finger at me. “If we have time today, I will teach you about protection. That might help me remember to do it myself.” She pinched her cheeks. Then, gesturing with her hands as she spoke, she said, “This is what happens when you don’t. You wake up looking like a piece of shit.”

  I laughed because sometimes she was just so animated when she spoke. “You look great,” I said.

  This time she pinched my cheek. “Thanks, sweetie.” She jerked her head toward the back door. “I’m off to meditate. Knock first, okay?”

  “For sure.”

  The morning cruised by as people came in and out of the store, some buying, some looking, some booking appointments with Annabelle. Most of the customers were pleasant, but I did notice that some of the people coming to see Annabelle acted nervous, like they were scared of what she might tell them.

  Noon arrived quickly, and Annabelle said good-bye to her last client at the front door. As soon as the door closed, she turned, and I immediately noticed again how tired she looked. To perk her up a bit, I went under the counter and pulled out a pair of pink furry slippers.

  “These are for you,” I said, giggling. “For winter. They match your chairs.”

  She burst out laughing, and I mean laughing. She had to hold her stomach. “No way.” She almost gurgled her words, she was laughing so hard. “Where on earth did you get those?”

  The fact that I had made her happy warmed me up inside. “Zellers,” I replied. “They’re so fun.” I put them on and pretended to do Michael Jackson’s moonwalk across the floor.

  This made Annabelle laugh even more hysterically. “You’re a crazy girl.”

  I was still sliding when the bell rang and the door opened and a man walked in.

  Annabelle suddenly stopped laughing. A weird energy hovered through the entire store, making me shiver.

  “Gary,” said Annabelle with a real bite to her words. “What are you doing here?”

  He furrowed his eyebrows. “I need to talk to you.”

  “No.” She adamantly shook her head.

  “As usual,” he said, “you’re messing me up.”

  “Me? Messing you up? Give me a break,” Annabelle shot back.

  I lowered my head and tried not to listen, but, of course, I heard every word.

  I guess Annabelle must have noticed my discomfort, because she said, “Indie, I’m sorry. This is Gary. And, Gary, this is Indie. She is my new employee.”

  I lifted my head, and instead of stepping forward, I gave a little wave. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Hi,” he replied. He turned right back to Annabelle. “Why not?” He spoke softly. He stepped toward her and tried to stroke her cheek, but she backed away.

  “You know why.”

  He looked at me. “See how nice I am to her?”

  With that he left. Annabelle’s shoulders sagged and she ran her hand through her hair before she said, “Sorry about that.”

  “No big deal,” I said. I walked over to her and put my hand on her arm. “You want me to get us some lunch?”

  When she put her hand on top of mine, I had to admit it stunned me. Her touch seemed to penetrate my skin and dive into my body, filling me with both pleasure and an immense sadness. Why the sadness? What was wrong?

  And just like that, my mind went blank and I saw white, like a blank piece of paper, and I held my breath hoping it would go away before she noticed. And it did, but not before I saw a ribbon of blood flowing through a beautiful aqua-colored river.

  She patted my hand, and I returned to the store. “Indie, I’ll be fine,” she whispered. “We’ve met each other for a reason that will benefit both of us.”

  Chapter Nine

  The days working at Annabelle’s store flew by, and when Thursday night rolled around, I could hardly believe it was almost the end of the week. My job was Monday to Friday because Annabelle didn’t take clients on Saturday and she usually had a friend work for her, someone who had been with her for years, since the day she had opened the store.

  I had hardly seen Sarah and Natalie all week, because both of them had worked a lot of evening shifts, and … I had the feeling they were avoiding the apartment. Now we were all in the kitchen, listening to music and chatting, but Natalie seemed unusually quiet.

  “So, girls,” said Sarah, “should we hit the Royal Oak? Thursday is the best night there for sure.”

  “I’m in,” I said. “But first I want us to do something.” I eyed Natalie.

  “I ain’t cooking,” said Sarah.

  “It has to do with Green Lady,” I said.

  Natalie wrapped her arms around her body and slouched in her chair. “She was in my room again last night.” She lowered her head and tucked her hair behind her ear, and I could see the tears rolling down her face. “I don’t know how much more I can handle,” she whispered.

  “Are you okay?” Sarah asked her quietly.

  Natalie hugged her body harder and shook her head.

  “I haven’t seen her much.” Sarah touched Natalie’s arm. “But I haven’t been around, and she doesn’t seem to be in Tyler’s apartment. Sometimes I hear a slam, but down there I feel safe because I’m with Tyler. Obviously she’s been tormenting you.”

  Natalie looked up, and around her eyes was streaking black mascara. “This morning, honestly, she wailed and wailed. It was awful.” Natalie wiped her eyes.

  “She’s grieving,” I said. I still hadn’t told them the full story of Mrs. Schmidt. I had been waiting for the right moment, when we were all together. “She lost a child, and she never recovered from the loss, from what I can gather from George. For all we know, she thinks he’s still in the house.”

  I paused before I said, “The child’s name was Henry.”

  “Henry!” exclaimed Sarah. “You’ve got to be joking. That is just too bizarre. Do you think he came back as a cat?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “What a sad story,” moaned Natalie. “But … how long will the woman live here? Will she ever leave? ’Cause if she won’t, then I have to. I can’t stand her crying.”

  I put my hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “Before you make any big decisions, let’s try something. My boss showed me things to do that can protect us from the woman.”

  “What kind of things?” Natalie asked.

  I snatched my purse from the floor and pulled out an Annabelle’s Angels bag and dumped the contents on the kitchen table.

  “First we take this rose quartz.” I picked up a pink stone. “And we put it in the four corners of the apartment. But since I only have four, let’s put these in the living room. It will keep her out of there.”

  “I want her out of my room, too,” whispered Natalie.

  “This is just the beginning,” I said. I picked up the four rose quartz stones that Annabelle had given me. “Let’s do this first. If it works, I wil
l get you four for your room.”

  We all walked into the living room, and the girls watched as I placed a stone in each corner.

  “You honestly think that is going to help?” Sarah curled her lip upward.

  “It’s worth a try,” I replied. “Okay, now for the little hematite stone.”

  I had memorized the stones at the store and was actually surprised that I could remember their names. I used to suck at memorizing stuff in high school, especially biology. And this was kind of the same thing. We walked back to the kitchen, and I picked up a silver-gray stone that was smooth and oval. “She said to put this one under the doormat or above the door.”

  We traipsed to the front entrance and all stood there, looking at the door. I pointed upward. “I guess we could set it on top of the door frame. It should stay put.”

  “I’ll get a chair,” said Natalie.

  She was back in a flash. I stood on the chair and placed the hematite stone in the middle of the door frame.

  Once I jumped down, Sarah asked, “So what’s with the other stuff?”

  I led us back to the kitchen and picked up the white Buffalo sage that Annabelle had given me and a half conch shell that must have come from some ocean somewhere. I would like to think Hawaii. “We have to light this in this little half shell,” I said.

  Then I pointed to an eagle feather. “Once this sage smokes, then we wave it clockwise around each door frame with the feather.”

  “Okay,” said Sarah, not sounding convinced. “This is kind of weird. But, hell, I guess it’s worth a try.” She picked up the feather and brushed it over her fingers. “Nice feather, by the way.”

  “I want to do this,” said Natalie. “If it makes her go away. Although I have to say, I feel kind of sorry for her if her baby died in this place.”

  “Annabelle told me it would be better for her if she moved on,” I said. “We’re doing her a favor.” I broke off a chunk of the sage, which was just a funny-looking piece of plant, just like Annabelle had shown me, and I put it in the little half shell. Sarah handed me a lighter, and I lit the sage. The smoke swirled upward and had a very distinct smell.