“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said, reaching down a hand. “Maybe you want to rethink this whole dying thing.”
He looked up at her and she watched his eyes drift up to the frozen clouds behind her and then back to her. A chilly wind whipped around them, making him clutch his thin cotton gown. He looked at her outstretched hand and took it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IN THE REAL world, Mitch slowly opened his eyes.
“Oh my God,” said Diana, not believing what she was seeing.
His head didn’t move, but Mitch’s eyes shifted lazily to look at her.
“Mitch, honey, can you hear me?”
He slowly closed his eyes again.
“Mitch,” said Saul. “Can you hear me?”
Mitch opened his eyes again and focused on Saul.
“Hey,” said Saul, bending down closer. “We thought you were a goner.”
Mitch made a grunting sound.
Livvy took off her goggles and sat up. She reached down to her bag for the bottle of water. Diana turned around to her.
“I can’t believe you really did it.”
Before Livvy could answer, the door to the room opened. The night nurse came in and was startled to see everybody. She was ready to ignore them all, as usual, but when Mitch looked at her, she realized he was no longer in a coma.
“Why didn’t somebody call me?” she asked, angry.
The nurse went over to the monitors and started punching buttons, making the machine squeal occasionally. Mitch grimaced at the noise.
“Our shaman managed to do more than all of you people in this building put together,” said Diana.
Oops, Livvy thought. Time to go.
“Shaman?” the nurse yelled, glaring at Livvy, who was stowing the water and other gear. “If she touched him or gave him anything, we’re not responsible.”
Livvy stood up, unsteady, but sensing that leaving time was now.
She said quietly to Diana, “We agreed on a set fee.”
“Of course, dear,” she said, going over to her purse at the sink.
“I don’t believe this,” huffed the nurse, storming out.
Diana brought out her wallet.
“We’re gonna get that tube out of your nose pronto, buddy,” said Saul.
As Livvy held out her hand, Diana counted out the money.
Mitch must have reacted to what he was seeing since Saul whispered, “Don’t worry about it, buddy. You just concentrate on getting better.”
Livvy was stuffing the wad into her front pocket when the door opened again. The nurse had tracked down an orderly, a big guy.
“There she is,” she accused, pointing at Livvy.
“I hardly think that’s necessary,” said Diana.
“Family only,” said the orderly. He looked at Livvy. “Sorry.”
“I’m just leaving,” she said, slinging her bag on.
“Thank you,” said Diana, putting a hand on her arm. A tiny static spark snapped between them. Diana immediately withdrew her hand.
“Santa Anas,” Livvy said quickly. “It’s so dry.”
The Santa Ana winds were the hot and dry winds that swept through Los Angeles from the nearby deserts. Even normal people could get sparks from simply brushing their hair. Livvy had no idea if the Santa Anas were actually blowing now but it was her standard excuse.
“Oh,” said Diana. “I guess I haven’t been outside much.”
The orderly cleared his throat.
“Anyway, thank you,” Diana said again.
“Sure,” said Livvy.
Because of the harsh backlight at the head of the bed, Livvy couldn’t quite see Mitch’s face, but she thought he might have been scowling.
“Good luck,” she said to him.
The nurse clucked with disapproval as Livvy passed.
“By the way,” Livvy said to her. “That saline drip is about half what it needs to be. You’d better page the night doctor for new orders.”
The nurse looked like she’d been slapped.
“Get her out of here!” she said to the orderly.
As Livvy passed, he held the door open for her. They walked in silence to the elevator and, as they waited for it to arrive, she knew that he was studying her. When the door opened, she saw a paramedic inside, riding back down to the lobby. She stepped in and saw the orderly still staring at her, watching her until the door closed. She leaned against the wall and put her head back.
“Are you all right?” said a voice after a few moments.
Livvy opened her eyes and saw the paramedic looking at her.
“Yeah,” she said, her mouth like cotton and her lips sticking together. “Just tired.”
“Mmm, maybe a bit dehydrated too,” he said, looking at her face.
She hadn’t yet had a chance to drink any water, after getting the bum’s rush out of the client’s room.
“Right,” she said, reaching down to her bag and bringing out the bottle.
The door dinged and opened. They were at the lobby.
“Why don’t you sit down,” said the paramedic, putting a hand underneath her elbow, directing her to a clump of overstuffed chairs.
As she dropped into a chair, he put his box on the floor. He took the bottle from her, opened it, and passed it back as he squatted down in front of her.
“Thanks,” she managed and then drank nearly half the bottle in one long swig.
He popped the top on his box, brought out a small packet, and ripped it open. He poured out two tiny white pills into his palm.
“Something to help balance with all the water,” he said, as he held them out to her. “Take them with the next drink.”
She looked at his hand and picked up the tablets.
“Electrolytes,” she said. “Potassium and sodium chloride. Helps to recover more quickly from dehydration or heat stroke.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, surprised.
She popped them in her mouth and drank the rest of the water.
“Thanks,” she said.
He took the empty bottle, turned her wrist over, and put a couple of fingers to the arteries there while looking at his watch. She noticed that his hands were soft, but that his forearms were smoothly muscular.
The elevator dinged open and another paramedic exited into the lobby. He was carrying a box as well, and also a clipboard. He came over to them as soon as he’d spotted his partner.
“What do we have?” he asked.
“Well,” said the young paramedic, as he put Livvy’s wrist down and looked up into her face. “Dehydration and probably a little exhaustion.”
She was struck by the boyish look of his face, the close shave, the short haircut, and the dark but kind eyes. He seemed concerned. Of course that was his job, she thought, but something in his face made her smile a little.
“Feeling better?” he asked, also smiling.
Livvy noticed his eyes lingering on her hair, like most people, but then they moved to her eyes and then her lips.
“Yes, much,” she said.
The radio on his partner’s belt squawked, and he turned away to listen to it.
“Are you going to be all right?” asked the paramedic, placing a hand lightly on her knee.
“Yeah, definitely,” she said, feeling some strength return.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling much better. Really,” she confirmed.
“Well, your color is better,” he said, standing up.
“All right,” said the partner, looking at the two of them. “If we’re done here, we’ve got a call.”
The paramedic in front of her nodded. The other man keyed a microphone clipped to the top of his shoulder and headed toward the exit.
“Unit 34 responding,” he said.
The paramedic picked up his box.
“Okay, I’ve got to go,” he said, but hesitated. “You sit here as long as you feel like it and then get some real rest.”
Livvy nodded and s
aid, “Thanks, I’ll do that.”
“All right,” he said. “Make sure you do.”
He moved toward the doorway, glanced back once, and then hustled after his partner.
After a few moments, Livvy slowly got up and headed toward the main entrance. Rest sounded like a good thing.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
UNFORTUNATELY, REAL REST was going to remain elusive. The knocking on the door wasn’t loud but it would not stop. Livvy looked at the clock. Seven-thirty. In the morning. Nacho stretched and pushed his front paws into her feet. She’d slept for two hours, tops. Oh, please go away, she thought, bringing the blanket over her head and turning over. But the knocking continued with annoying pauses that would lull her into thinking it had stopped. Then it would start again. Nacho meowed.
“All right!” she said and threw off part of the covers. “All right,” she muttered, sitting up.
She went to the front door, with Nacho trailing behind, and looked through the peephole but whoever was there was standing off to the side.
“Who is it?” she said, her tiredness producing more annoyance than she felt.
“Livvy, it’s me,” came a small, high-pitched voice. “Soo Min.”
“Min?” Livvy said, not quite processing the information.
Min was another shaman, a neophyte really, a little younger than Livvy. Even so, shamans didn’t visit one another. In fact, they were careful not to be seen in public together. That was how their clients liked it, a throwback to the day when villagers sometimes suspected their shamans of colluding together for hexes, not healings.
Livvy undid the locks, discharging a small static shock to the chain, and opened the door. Nacho dashed out, his usual routine in the morning. Although Livvy had adopted him, he was still the building cat. During the day, he was out and about, but at night he always came back to her place. Min liked Nacho and usually tried to pet him, but it seemed as if she hadn’t even seen him.
She stood there, wringing her hands, and peered through the gap. It had been weeks since Livvy had seen Min. They’d met in the university hospital where Livvy had studied. Although she and Min had started training as shamans about the same time, Livvy had grown by leaps and bounds while Min still struggled. From time to time, Livvy even mentored her. When she had insisted that Min use ‘Livvy’ instead of ‘Olivia’, Min had insisted she drop the ‘Soo’ part of her first name. Despite all the prohibitions, they’d quickly become friends–secret friends.
Livvy looked past her into the hallway to see if anybody was watching, then took her by the hand and pulled her in, shutting the door behind her.
“Min, what are you doing here?”
“I made sure nobody saw me,” she said contritely. “Can we talk?”
There was a pleading in her voice and Livvy knew she must have taken the bus at first light to get here at this hour. Now that she was inside, Livvy could see that something was wrong.
“Sure, sure,” she said, giving her a brief hug and encouraging smile. “Stay for a bit.”
Min stood close to the door, watching Livvy lock it.
“Come in, sit down,” Livvy said, heading into the kitchen.
She pulled out a folding chair as she passed the card table that straddled the edge of the linoleum.
“I’m so sorry for coming by,” Min said, still wringing her hands. “But I had to talk to another shaman.”
Min had always been thin, even for a Korean, but she was looking positively gaunt now. Her almond eyes were set too deeply into her high cheekbones. A jade choker rested between her collarbones instead of clinging to her neck. Unlike Livvy, Min dressed the part of a shaman and was wearing a long black velvet coat with gray piping, the high collar tucked up under her shoulder-length black hair. The bottom of her coat reached almost down to the tops of her knee-high black boots. The small leather flaps at the top of the boots were shaking and Livvy realized that Min was shivering.
“Sit down,” said Livvy, as she started to forget how tired she’d been. “I’ll make some tea.”
Min glanced around as if she needed more permission than that but finally came over to the table and sat down on the front edge of the chair, knees together, her hands folded in her lap.
Livvy filled the kettle with water from the tap, put it on the stove, and lit one of the burners with a match. The igniters hadn’t ignited anything for months. With the flame burning high, Livvy left the kettle, took an open package of cookies and two paper plates over to the table, and set them down next to the tall plastic bottle of syrup. She sat down and pulled out the brown corrugated liner of the package and two short rows of cookies came out with it.
“So what’s up,” she asked Min, putting a cookie on the plate in front of her.
“I’m having the worst healings lately,” she said, her dark eyes staring at Livvy from a pinched face. “Really hard.”
“What kind of hard?” Livvy asked, taking a cookie for herself.
“Bizarre,” said Min, putting her hands on the table. “The Underworld is, I don’t know, not right.” She searched Livvy’s face for confirmation.
Livvy nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen the same thing.”
“What do you make of it?”
“I have no idea,” Livvy said, shaking her head, as she separated the two halves of the cookie with a push of her thumbs. “The Middleworld too.”
Min nodded, bobbing her head. “Yes, the Middleworld too,” she agreed.
Livvy poured syrup over the two open cookie halves.
An awkward silence settled on them. Shamans didn’t share their visions of the Multiverse. Each one saw something different, except for the black lake. Their vision was particular to them, born out of their initial vision quest and their spirit helper.
“It’s crowded…” Min ventured.
“Or deserted,” finished Livvy.
Min exhaled as though she’d been holding her breath.
“Oh thank all the gods that ever were. I thought I’d been imagining it.”
The teakettle started to whistle and Livvy went over to it. She opened a drawer and brought out two boxes of tea, holding them up for Min.
“Nothing for me,” she said.
“Minnie Mouse,” Livvy said with mock disapproval. She cocked her head and stared at Min, holding out both boxes for her to choose.
Min relaxed a tiny bit and almost smiled.
“The Genmai-cha,” she said.
Livvy nodded once and put the raspberry tea back in the drawer. She brought back a couple of chipped mugs with steaming tea and set one in front of Min.
“Eat a cookie,” she commanded.
Min looked dubiously at the one in front of her. She probably didn’t eat much refined sugar and probably also didn’t shop in the kinds of markets that would sell this sort of product. Not to be rude, though, she picked it up and took a small bite.
“Have you seen any unusual spirits?” Livvy asked, trying to sound casual.
Min was slurping her tea the way Koreans were taught to, but she stopped and thought about the question.
“Just the usual assortment I think.” She took another sip. “Unusual like what?”
Livvy wondered how much to tell her and if Min would think she was absolutely nuts. She got up, went to the bedroom, and fetched her phone. As she came back out to the kitchen, she found the picture of the kachina and handed the phone to Min.
“What’s this?” she said, setting her tea down.
She fetched a pair of reading glasses from the large pocket of the long velvet coat she was wearing and put them on.
“Oh my,” she said, gasping. Then she turned in her chair to look in the direction of the couch, comparing the photo to the spot where the kachina had stood. “Oh my,” she said again, not able to stop looking at the photo.
Livvy waited, knowing how shocking the photo was. Finally, Min looked up at her. “You’ve got more to worry about than me,” she said, with a small amount of relief. Someone in the world was experi
encing weirder things than she was.
“Thanks,” said Livvy, taking the phone back.
Min sipped her tea and absently pushed the cookie remains aside.
“I haven’t seen a kachina anywhere,” she said. “Especially not…in the real world.” She put down her mug. “I haven’t seen anything like that.”
The silence settled in again as Livvy remembered the kachina beckoning to her in the clearing of the Middleworld.
“I’m having strange dreams,” Min blurted out. “It’s hard to wake up.”
Livvy looked at her. Min was holding herself rigid, but her eyes moved back and forth scanning Livvy’s, looking again for confirmation. Here was the real reason for the visit. It was the dreams that had scared her, not the disturbance in the Multiverse.
“Do you feel like you’ve been…buried?” asked Livvy.
Min exhaled with relief.
“You too!” she said, almost glad.
“Not quite,” said Livvy, shaking her head.
She decided to come out with it. “I just had to rescue another shaman who had gotten trapped in the Middleworld. She’d been buried. During a dream.”
Min thumped her mug back down on the table, sloshing some tea out but not noticing.
“She couldn’t wake up?”
“Nope. I don’t think she would have either.”
“How did you know about her?”
“Her boyfriend called me–her fiancé,” Livvy corrected herself. “He called when he couldn’t wake her up.”
Min was suddenly silent, her shoulders hunched. Her knuckles stood out from her boney fingers as she clutched the mug.
“You had trouble waking up?” Livvy asked quietly.
Min only nodded.
“Today?”
“Last couple of days,” Min admitted. “I dreamt of being covered with dirt. I don’t know why. I’ve never dreamt of such a thing before.”
She looked up at Livvy, her face drained of what little color had been there.
“Livvy, I’m afraid.”
Livvy reached her hand across the table and rested it on Min’s, who grasped it in both of hers like a lifeline.
“What are we going to do?” Min whispered.
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