72: I'm Off To The Cemetery Then

I slowly rise to the gentle touch of phantom lips to my forehead. I rub the feeling away as I stretch my limbs. What the hell did I do last night? Sleep like a moron apparently. My entire body aches as if I ran a marathon.

Too bad it’s not a legit enough excuse to skip out on work. It doesn’t take long to brush my hair, throw on some clothes and walk the few blocks to the shop. I sure hope that today is busier than these past few days.

Monty bombards me the minute I walk in. “Tea?” She asks as she blows into her tea cup.

“No. I already feel like crap and I don’t need your tea to make me feel worse.”

There’s a flash of hurt on her face, but she quickly recovers. “Sit.” She points to the chair behind the counter. “I mean it. You’re too stressed out for this early in the morning and for what?”

“I don’t know. What?” I cluelessly reply.

“Exactly. But we’ll find out.” She pulls her cards out from who knows where just as the bell on the door chimes. Monty’s eyes light up as she peers behind me. “Even better, an audience.”

Avery comes strolling up to the counter in a lovely gold dress. “An audience for what?” When Monty flashes the cards at her she squeals. “I’m in. Are you reading Hazel? She definitely needs it.”

“What?” I snap at Avery. “Both of you. No.” My head violently shakes from side to side.

Monty spreads out her cards and Avery’s feet excitedly tap against the floor. I’m getting ganged up on. There’s no refusing it, it’s happening. Monty already has the deck split, first card pried between her fingers.

As it snaps down on the counter, I cringe. I’ve always hated her cards or I should say I always feared her cards.

All eyes go to the face up card. It depicts a young man sitting on a throne, a line of people kneeling before him. Avery whispers asking who the guy is, but my eyes are on one of the kneeling people. It has an eerie resemblance to me.

Monty keeps silent, unsure how to place it so she flips the next card. This is a spot on, identical to the T, portrayal of me on this card. It gives me chills just looking at it and before I know it, my body is acting out without my mind telling it to. My hands sweep across the counter, swiping the cards right off the tabletop. They float to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Monty says as she drops to her knees and picks up the cards. Avery quickly rushes to help her and I feel awful for my outburst.

But what the hell was that? Me in a coffin cradling an infant. Who’s baby? My baby? No. And what does death have to do with it?

“I’m going to put these away and check on some customers.” Monty says in a shy, freightened voice.

I scared her, but in my defense she scared me first. But there’s no doubt in my mind that my cards scared her. And that’s bad. Something very bad is at play.

I turn to Avery trying to put the cards behind me. “So, what brings you to the crazy house?” I take her dress once again. “Did your mother set you up again? Is he a prince? I have the perfect thing to get rid of him.”

“Sometimes we do things that we don’t want to.”

“Are you trying to push your words of wisdom off on me, because it’s not going to work.” I reply with a cocky smile.

“Damn.” She teases back. “I just wanted to stop in and say hi before I go to my lunch.” She retreats from the counter. “Have fun and text me when you’re done, because I’m definitely going to need to dish to someone other than Avalos.”

“Aye. Aye.” I salute her in compliance.

That must be good enough for her or she’s eager to get her lunch date with prince charming. Either way, she leaves me with Monty, who casually peeks out of her office or out from behind shelving to stare at me, to check up on me.

She keeps her distance from me the rest of the day. Did I insult her or her cards by throwing them on the floor? Or is this her giving me the space that I so desperately need even though she’s deeply disturbed by what she saw. There’s no way she isn’t mortified and curious at the same time at what those cards depicted.

I think about them the rest of the day. The King and The Evolution. It sounds like so much fun, I say sarcastically to myself. It sounds like Hell is going to be upon us and I may be right up front to witness it all, maybe, even participate in it coming to be.

“Hazel.” A soft spoken voice barely penetrates the fog that’s clouding my head. Then a pair of fingers snap right next to my ear, my name louder on their lips, “Hazel.”

I snap straight up on my stool. Gretchen standing across from me. “I thought you weren’t coming in today?” The words are a little choppy as I’m still recovering from the scare she gave me.

“I wasn’t, but one of my clients is insisting on an appointment tonight.” She hikes her oversized purse on her shoulder. It looks like it weighs a ton. What kind of appointment is this?

“And I wouldn’t by chance get to head out early?” It wasn’t much earlier. The sun went down hours ago. The city is already alive with demizens. But I’ll take what I can get.

“Actually that is perfect. I need you to pick something up for me and you can have the rest of the night off, plus an entire day off of your choice.”

Sounds too good to be true. “And what exactly do you need me to do?”

Gretchen’s voice turns smooth and sweet. “I need you to give Georgio a visit and collect some dead man’s toes.”

“Oh, no.” My head violently shakes from side to side. “No.”

“Hazel. Please.” She coos. “He fancies you, so it shouldn’t be too awful.”

“Two days off and maybe even more.” I counter.

“Whatever you want.” She holds out a small velvet pouch that holds her payment for the toes. She wiggles it in the air as she waits for me to take the pouch. I hold out my hand and it drops right into my open palm.

It lands with a heaviness, even though what’s inside is weightless. It feels weird having it, holding it. I can only imagine where, who she got it from. We stare at each. Her silently urging me to go and me silently praying for her to change her mind. When she doesn’t, I huff, “well.” Defeated, I depart, “I’m off to the cemetery then.”