—Zodia
I opened a few more emails and moved a bunch into a folder to consider later. Ones that I felt were not terribly interesting, I set aside to be returned to Sam for her form letter referring the writers to other astrologers. I worked through several more questions and responses and then saved them all. This was hardly a perfect way to practice astrology, but hopefully my quick judgments and answers would be spot on and help someone head in the right direction. I clicked back to the inbox and realized three more emails had arrived while I was working.
I didn’t recognize the various senders. I’d set up my AskZodia address only for Samantha, but these new emails weren’t from her. My private clients use Julia.Bonatti, and my friends use JuliaB. None of them would even know of my AskZodia address. I hesitated. I’m a hopeless non-techie person but rely on my computer for business, so I’m very fearful of viruses. I clicked to open the first email and scrolled down. A jolt of fear shot through me. The message read, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”
THREE
THE OTHER TWO EMAILS were along the same Biblical lines: “In my name shall they cast out devils. Luke 16:17,” and “Neither shall ye use enchantment nor observe times. Leviticus 19:26.”
A cold knot formed in my stomach. Someone very crazy had figured out my AskZodia email address. Someone who wasn’t Samantha. I reached for the phone automatically and then realized how late it was. The Chronicle office had closed hours ago and I didn’t have Sam’s home number. I’d have to wait till morning.
My knowledge of Biblical lore is really nonexistent. I had no clue about the context of these quotes; however, the message was clear. Someone considered me a witch and thought my work was the work of the devil. I wondered if the newspaper had received similar missives that Sam hadn’t passed on. Crazy letters along these lines might have come in but she hadn’t wanted to tell me. I’d ask her tomorrow. She might have thought they would upset me, and she’d be right. But this was different. This was my own personal email.
Should I delete them? Should I save them in a folder? Block them? Had someone sent me a virus? Something very hateful had invaded my home via computer. I finally decided to delete them from my inbox and trash. I shivered involuntarily. What creeped me out was the fact that they came from different senders. I stared at the blank screen. Maybe I’d done that too fast. Maybe I should at least have made a note of the senders’ addresses.
I heaved a sigh and closed my laptop. I put Evandra’s notes in her folder and straightened up the living room. The fire had turned to embers and Wizard was still curled up on the throw. I made sure the front and back doors were locked and bolted and padded down the hall to bed. I shed my clothes, slid under the covers, and turned on the electric blanket. The rain still drummed heavily outside. Wizard followed me and climbed onto the bed, curling up in a ball next to me. I picked up my new book on eclipses and managed to read a paragraph before I went unconscious, the lamp still lit.
The next morning I woke, groggy, with a crick in my neck. The events of the day before came flooding back. I tried to push the image of Luis’s body being raised from the cliffside out of my head. It wasn’t working. Groaning, I climbed out of bed and rummaged in the closet for my leopard print flip-flops and my thrift shop Chinese robe and stumbled out to the kitchen, desperate for coffee. I know. I’m an addict and I really don’t care. I put the pot on to boil, thinking I should probably break down and buy one of those coffeemakers that can be set up the night before. The problem with that is I’d have to remember to fill it with water and coffee and push the button. A big assumption. Wizard circled my legs and waited patiently while I scooped food into his dish. When the coffee was ready, I filled a mug and added some half and half. I needed caffeine. I had more work to do and a new client coming today.
I peeked out the window above the sink. The rain had stopped, but there’d be more. The temperature had dropped radically during the night and the steam from the boiling kettle had fogged the windows. Wizard climbed onto my lap as soon as I sat down and, stretching his paws, kneaded furiously at my robe as I downed my coffee. The thought of returning to the Gamble house depressed me, but I had promised Dorothy and Evandra I’d come back.
When the caffeine finally hit, I gently urged Wizard off my lap. I pulled my mop of unruly hair up with an elastic band and jumped in the shower. After dressing, I straightened up the apartment and shut the damper in the fireplace to keep the heat from escaping.
The emails from the night before still preyed on my mind. I checked the clock. It wasn’t nine yet, but Samantha sometimes arrived at the office early. I dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Julia! Hi. What’s up?”
“Listen, Sam, you didn’t give my AskZodia email address to anyone, did you?”
“No! Of course not. No one at all. Why do you ask?”
“I got a few really strange emails last night.”
“Strange? What did they say?”
I repeated the Biblical phrases as best I could. “I didn’t write down exactly what they said. I just looked at them and then I deleted them.”
“Creepy!” She sighed.
“More than one. All three came from different addresses.”
“Did you give your address to anyone?”
“No. I only use it for you, for the column.”
“I don’t know what to say. We have your contact info in the Payroll Department, your home address and phone and your AskZodia email, but I don’t imagine anyone there would give it out. The emails I send to you are all forwarded from the AskZodia address at the Chronicle. The only thing I can think of is that someone took the words ‘Ask Zodia’ and tried different service providers till they found one that worked.”
“You screen the emails that come in. Have you seen anything similar before?”
“No. Nothing threatening or strange at all. A lot of them are meandering and don’t really have a question. I just send the standard response. You know, ‘We receive many more requests than we can possibly answer, but are happy to refer you to … blah, blah, blah.’”
“Well, I just wanted you to know. Hopefully the only thing they have is my email address.”
“Maybe you should set up a new one for me to use.”
“Good idea. I’ll do that. I don’t want to use the one I give to my regular clients, though. Do me a favor and don’t write it down anywhere, okay?”
“I promise. What’s it gonna be?”
“How about astrochat. Same service provider. Don’t use the word ‘Zodia’ anywhere.”
“I’ll remember. So, everything I send you will go to astrochat from now on.”
“You can tell Les, but no one else, and I’ll cancel the AskZodia account.
“Maybe you shouldn’t do that, Julia. If this becomes more of a problem, the police can trace the emails. It takes a while, but I know they can do that. So maybe it’s better to keep it active. Just don’t read any of that crazy stuff.”
“Easier said than done. But you’re right.”
“Julia, I’m really sorry. I don’t like the idea there could be a leak from our end. Stay in touch, though, and let me know if you get any more.”
We hung up and I placed a call to Don at his office next. It was too early to expect him to be there, but I left a message for him to call me as soon as he arrived. I made another cup of coffee and settled back in to work. There were all kinds of freaks in the world. I couldn’t let them get to me.
I hoped to squeeze a few more letters in for the column before my client arrived. I skimmed through and finally chose some others that offered a good range of problems.
Dear Zodia—
I hope you can help me. I was born at 3:15 a.m. on October 3, 1978. My husband was born March 4, 1976. We were married only last year. Over the last few months, his behavior has changed, and the last few weeks, it’s much worse. He’s threatened suicide and I’m worried sick. What should I do?
— Panicked in Peta
luma
I groaned. Panicked shouldn’t be wasting time writing to Zodia! She needed to find a shrink in a big hurry.
Dear Panicked:
Threats should be taken very seriously. Immediately speak to your doctor or your local hospital about getting help for your husband. Also, talk to anyone at the suicide prevention hotlines. They might be able to give you some guidance. This is a time for intervention. His natal chart shows very adverse aspects to his Sun sign, indicating a lack of parental support in childhood, possibly even abuse. He’s suffering from feelings of worthlessness. He needs immediate help! Following are several names of organizations and 800 numbers where you can get help.
—Zodia
I emailed this to Samantha, asking her to reply privately to the sender immediately. This was one I didn’t think needed to appear in the column. I was concerned about some of the letters Zodia was getting. I always respond as best I can given the limitations, but I can’t help but worry about some of the people who write to me. I just hoped that Panicked in Petaluma wouldn’t waste a minute.
I sighed and opened the next letter. Just as I set up the chart, the doorbell rang. From the top of the stairs I called down to the front door. It was Dorothy. I hurried down to let her in.
She was out of breath. “You don’t have a client with you, do you? I’m sorry, Julia. I should have called first.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m working, but I can take a break. How did you manage to get away?”
“Gudrun’s there with my aunts now. I really had to see you.”
“Sure. Come on up.” Was this about Luis? Or something else? I led Dorothy into the office. She sat in my client chair without taking off her coat.
“I’m really sorry to barge in like this.”
“No worries. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s Richard, Julia. He wants to get back together,” she blurted out.
I nodded noncommittally, but inwardly my brain was short-
circuiting.
“Can you look at our progressed composite chart again? Maybe things would be different now?” Dorothy’s face was flushed. I knew that in her heart of hearts she’d very much wanted her marriage to be a success. It was after much arguing, stress, and accusations about financial matters that Richard had announced he was not happy and moved out. Dorothy was heartbroken.
I knew from the charts that Richard was controlling and had a heavy effect on her. She hadn’t been on terribly firm ground during all the marital upheaval, but when Richard left, she’d fallen apart. Privately, it incensed me that Richard wanted to come back just when she was getting stronger. My heart was heavy, but there was nothing for it but to pull up the charts and have another look.
“Okay.” I smiled to soften what I knew I would have to say. “Here’s your progressed chart, and here’s Richard’s.” I turned the computer monitor so she could see the charts. Offering clients a view of the aspects I’m describing often helps them gain a little emotional distance.
Progressed charts are based on a theory that the first day of life is indicative of the first year of life. In other words, the thirtieth year of life is foreshadowed by the thirtieth day of life. To find out what’s currently happening in a relationship, one very good method is to create progressed charts for the two individuals, and then set up a composite chart. A composite is a new chart using the midpoints of both individuals’ charts calculated for the city in which they live. I clicked on the toolbar and mentally thanked the gods for computer programs. How would I have ever managed before all this technology?
“Things have eased a little between you two right now, since the separation. I’m afraid, though, that there could be more difficulties to come.” I really didn’t like the transits that were about to hit.
Dorothy tried her best not to show her disappointment. “Richard says he’s sorry he was so stubborn. He really wants to do things differently.”
I nodded. Julia, be careful what you say. “The stresses between the two of you are not going to change. Now, I’m not saying they can’t be worked on, as we’ve talked about in the past, but the same energies still apply. I can see from this that there’s an easing of the hostilities, but, frankly”—I looked up at Dorothy—“my advice would be to just wait a bit. Wait until after the holidays before you make a firm decision.”
“Christmas is less than a week away. You mean after Christmas?”
“Yes. That’s a good way to time it. Just wait until then. Right now the Moon is close to Venus in this progressed composite, and that’s very nice, but it’s somewhat temporary—it’s not everything. Keep talking to each other and review what’s gone on before. Maybe make a list of the things that upset you so much and discuss them with Richard, or together with your counselor.”
“Yes, he’s agreed to go to counseling with me now,” Dorothy breathed. “Isn’t that wonderful, Julia?”
Oh please. Too bad he wouldn’t agree to that months ago! “Yes, it is. It means he’s serious about working on the relationship, and perhaps dealing with his control issues.”
My concern has to be primarily for my client, so I needed to stay as nonjudgmental as possible about her choices, but I truly had my doubts that Richard Sanger could change that much. And as difficult as Richard could be, Dorothy could be just as stubborn. Either one of them might do fine on their own, but this was a case of each exacerbating the worst traits in the other. Dorothy’s natal Mercury formed hard aspects with Saturn and with Pluto; Mercury indicates how we think, how we perceive, how we communicate, so Dorothy’s placements led her to bend reality and refuse to see things as they really were. We all do that to some extent when we want something very badly, but in Dorothy’s case, I feared she could become even more single-minded and obsessive. She had chosen a person who would bring her own worst failings to the fore.
I had become very fond of her. I wanted to see her have a chance at happiness. I certainly knew how rare a thing it is to find a wonderful, loving mate. I’d lost my chance, but it wasn’t too late for Dorothy. I definitely didn’t want to see her rush back into a situation that had made her miserable for the past few years, especially a situation that might not improve.
“There are correspondences between your charts indicating lifetime connections, but it takes more than that to make a relationship fulfilling,” I continued. “I’m not saying don’t consider this. It’s your decision. I’m just saying wait until this current Moon progression has passed, and then see how you feel. There’s no need to jump at anything. You’re doing great, and you’re on firmer ground now.”
Dorothy took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. I need to not feel desperate. And I need to slow down and take my time with this.” She rose from her chair. “Thanks, Julia. I guess I needed you to talk me down.”
“No worries. We all need that sometimes.” I walked her to the door and we hugged. “Any more news about Luis?”
Dorothy sighed. “I spoke to his family last night. Just awful. Evandra and Eunice are so upset.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“What do I owe you for today?”
“Nothing.”
“But … ”
“Shush. No. Put your wallet away.”
“Thanks, Julia. I’m sorry I have to rush off so quickly. Are you still coming by today? Evandra’s been asking for you to visit.”
“Yes, definitely, if I’m not running too late.”
After Dorothy left, I filled a bowl with the last of the pea soup and stuck it in the microwave. Then I dropped two kitty treats on Wizard’s tray. He lunged at them, quacked, and walked away. I finished my meal and went back to answering a few more letters.
Between Dorothy’s wanting to reconcile with her husband and Panicked in Petaluma, I felt discouraged. I know astrology works and I know sometimes I can actually point people in the right direction, particularly when a question of timing is involved, but I often wonder if my clients actually listen and take what I say to heart. Other times I
wonder if I’m deluding myself that I have anything pertinent to say anyway.
The phone rang and I grabbed it, assuming it was Don returning my call. The voice was male, low and gravelly. “A soothsayer shall be put to death and they shall stone them with stones.”
FOUR
MY HEART WAS BANGING against my rib cage. A wave of anger washed over me. “Who is this?” I shouted. I heard a chuckle on the other end.
“Lose my number, you whack job!” I slammed the phone back in its cradle, but not before the caller clicked off. I was so furious my face was burning and my hands shook. They—whoever they were—had my home number. But not my cell. Not yet. I dashed an email off to Samantha. I was sure now that my address and phone number hadn’t been secure at the newspaper.
The phone rang again. I grabbed it on the first ring, certain it was another anonymous caller.
“What!”
“Hey! What’s wrong?” It was Don.
“Oh. Sorry,” I replied sheepishly. “I thought you were … ”
“Were what? Or maybe I should say ‘who’? You left me a message earlier?”
“Have you talked to Sam?”
“Not yet. She left me a message to call her, but I figured I’d get back to you first.”
I brought Don up to date about my emails and anonymous caller. I felt better already just hearing his voice. Don is the backbone of the newspaper’s research department and able to lay his fingers on every ounce of trivia in the city and elsewhere. He’s a one-man walking encyclopedia. I knew he’d have some good advice.
“That’s bad, Julia,” he said when I’d finished. “I’ll have a chat with Les and Sam and see what they can find out. You think your info’s been leaked from here?”
The Madness of Mercury Page 3