Sunset Shuffle - A Fiction (an ongoing story for you to read)
Vera stepped into the dark parlor. The Los Angeles heat streaming down her back in rivulets of perspiration as the cool conditioned air of this new place condensed on her spine. Shivers. The tinted glass door closed behind her, shutting away any hint of the bright California summer. She clutched her handbag close to her breast, her eyes not yet adjusted to this dim candle-lit room. Shivers again.
“Troubles with men?” said a voice somewhere from the darkness. It was a man’s voice, soothing, soft and reassuring to feel. The kind of voice that touches the back of your neck just between the shoulder blades, giving you trembles and goose pimples that leave you feeling as if you were napping in your mother’s arms. Vera laughed a single “ha,” the sound of which is meant to say it all. “You know it,” she said as an afterthought. She peered toward the voice.
In a corner of the room sat a large man in a flowing tunic, a turban on his head. He sat behind a round table, maybe three feet in diameter. A candle in a sconce above his head was the only illumination available. On the table in front of him sat a large deck of cards and one card lay next to it turned face up. His hand lifted another card from the deck and turned it up beside the first card. Vera stepped closer.
The first card showed a dark haired man on a horse flying toward her through the air. He held a thrusted sword in his hand as if charging. Four wings or blades or something seemed to hover over him as if to remind her of a helicopter at war. The new card placed beside this one showed a silvery man with winged feet flying out into space, splashing a playful and not always certain message across the aethyrs. This card was filled with images that made Vera want to chuckle, but that Knight of Swords was still there and Vera swallowed a dry lump of air instead.
“What does it mean?” she asked reluctantly.
“He’s tricky, this one,” said the man behind the table. He didn’t seem as big now, Vera thought, as she stepped closer and sat in the chair opposite his. The card reader might only weigh about 130 pounds, but at first he seemed larger and fuller in that colorful tunic of his. “He’s sly and probably shouldn’t be trusted.” The card reader drew out another card and placed it beneath the Knight.
“The Chariot! He’s very determined, like he’s driving up to you – this card suggests a lot of force maybe. Like he’s always behind you.”
“I think I was being followed!” Vera blurted out.
“Yes, me too,” the seer said as he jumped from his chair and bolted to the door. He fumbled in the pockets of his loose garment until he finally pulled out a chain of keys and locked the door. Then he ran over to a cabinet on the wall next to Vera. She hadn’t noticed the cabinet until now. He pulled a jar out, opened it and grabbed a handful of something before replacing the jar. He ran to the door and with a flourish of both arms crisscrossing the doorway, he let loose a sparkle of gold and green dust above him flickering from the candlelight behind him. He spoke words, almost singsong, in a language unlike anything Vera had ever heard before – although a word or two did sound “right.”
The air filled with a hint of evergreen, peppermint, and something close to honey. Silence hung heavy for a moment until Vera was startled by the sound of a police siren that started what sounded like right outside the door a little ways. The blaring screamer whizzed by and faded into the distance.
The middle-aged man - now that he was standing and the light shined more definitely on him, he seemed older – dusted his hands as he walked toward the table and said, “There, we’re safe now.”
Vera felt a wave of calm over her as the old seer took his seat again. She felt assurance and comfort in his presence, like she never knew anyone but her father could make her feel. It had been a long month and she was glad to finally feel safe again.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Alexander, the Astounding Astrologer and Tarot Psychic of Sunset Boulevard. You didn’t read my sign before coming in. You were being followed by a large dark car when you were walking. You sensed danger and came to the right place.”
“Wow.”
“But that’s only the beginning,” Alexander continued as if unaware of the amazed young woman while grabbing his cards and some jars and vials into a knapsack he seemed to suddenly be holding.
“Here, hold this,” he handed Vera a mason jar. She covered it with both hands and stared in awe at Alexander while he continued to fill his sack.
“This man who is after you, he means you great harm. I don’t know too much more just yet, but you know him.”
“I do? But I didn’t recognize the car.”
“We have to go now,” said the seer, “to a bar. But first…” Alexander paused as he put the finger of one hand to the lid of the jar Vera was holding. She saw that the lid had tiny holes punched in it and something seemed to be tapping from the inside. He placed the palm of his other hand under the jar and Vera let go. Inside the jar, now that she could see it, there was a cocoon attached to its side and something was beginning to break free. After a slow moment of stretches and feigned flutters, a fully grown monarch butterfly nearly filled the area of the jar. Alexander twisted the lid of the jar off and watched with delight as nature’s latest miracle flitted around his studio in the glimmering soft candle’s glow.
“Shit!” he exclaimed as he hopped around the table, leaping with hand outstretched to douse the candle to extinction. Vera laughed as she heard Alexander crash against his chair. The clownish image of him flying through the air toward the flame, his turban falling behind him and revealing his completely bald crown, burnt into her retinas as total pitch overcame them. He crashed with a clatter and began also to laugh.
A few minutes later he opened the door. The butterfly flew away on a warm breeze. Alexander adjusted his turban. They walked down the street looking for a bar.
<....to be continued...>