EXCERPT Chapter 1
Adam Andrews was lonesome. Since his wife, Crystal, had died in an
automobile accident two years earlier, he had withdrawn from most outside
contacts and had become a virtual hermit in his house.
From time-to-time he went out to eat in restaurants, buy groceries, and
gas his car, but, for the most part, he simply stayed home and watched
television or read a book or played games on his computer. He lived in a mental
world of his own making.
He'd get up in the morning, eat some toast and drink coffee, and read the
St. Petersburg Times. Then he'd take a walk and return to spend another day
simply puttering around. He had tried to take up drinking, but found that
excessive amounts of alcohol didn't agree with him; he'd merely feel woozy and
then end up with a headache. Cigars were another story; he liked to sit out in
the back yard in the evening smoking and brooding.
He felt that he had been sentenced to a lifetime of boredom. He even
regretted having gotten rid of the dog that he and Crystal used to have and that
he had found so annoying.
Not only did he miss Crystal, but he missed the way she used to pamper
him and spend freely from her wages as a paralegal to grant him almost any wish
that he would have; he had a drawer full of wrist watches and fountain pens that
she had gifted him with.
He also missed the meals she cooked since he was now reduced to tossing
frozen foods into the microwave. But even these were superior to the
over-priced, artery-clogging garbage served up at the fast-food joints in his
neighborhood.
Fortunately, Crystal had taken out a large life insurance policy in his
favor, and when she died he had received a check from the insurance company for
almost a million dollars. They had tried every trick in the book to avoid
settling the claim, but finally, after six months of badgering them and
threatening to hire a lawyer and go to the media, the settlement had been
forthcoming.
Rather than going out and squandering this windfall, he had quit his
dead-end job and judiciously invested a large chunk of it into an account that
paid him a monthly interest check that covered his living expenses plus enough
for spending money...he was set for life, financially.
But having enough money to live on did not compensate for the emotional
void in his life. He had tried going to various Meet-Up groups but soon lost
interest, and his efforts to meet a woman through on-line dating services had
proven to be a lost cause; the few who had responded had either not been to his
liking or were after a "sugar daddy" to exploit and to support them.
Being a chess player, he had once joined the St. Petersburg chess club.
Before he had attended a single meeting, he had received a phone call from an
attorney who asked him if he'd like to meet at the coffee shop in the Barnes and
Noble bookstore on Tyrone Boulevard for a game of chess.
He had said yes, but when the attorney found out that he had been married
and liked women, he had quickly terminated the conversation and left Adam
standing with a dead phone in his hand. After that, Adam gave up on the chess
club idea.
And so here he was, lonesome and growing more frustrated by the day.
More and more he retreated into his own world of dreams.
* * * *
Adam Andrews was a large-framed man over six feet tall and was one of
those fortunate people who was had a fast metabolism so that no matter how much
he ate or didn't eat, his weight hovered around the two-hundred pound mark.
He was in his mid-forties and was beginning to grow bald. Being near
sighted, he wore bifocal glasses that, try as he might, he had never been able
to get used to. He alternated between being clean shaven and wearing a
closely-cropped beard. At this time, he was in his beard-wearing mode.
Since Crystal had died, he had tried to be a good housekeeper, but,
lacking much interest in it, his small two-bedroom house remained cluttered much
of the time.
Usually, the kitchen sink was piled high with unwashed dishes, and the
bathroom was a mess. He frequently had to get a can of bug spray and try to
spray the Palmetto Bugs and other insects that were drawn to the messes.
His bed was always unmade; he would just get up in the mornings and pull
the bedspread up over the wrinkled sheets. Once in a while he would get
ambitious and take a broom to the floors, but most of the time they were not
swept...mopping them seldom occurred to him.
No one ever comes around anyway, he reasoned, so who cares?
As to his clothes, he almost always wore a pair of black Dickies-brand
pants and a short or long-sleeved sport shirt depending on his mood and the
weather. Most of the time he liked to wear a pair of black Reebok shoes as he
found them comfortable, and, in comparison to the shower clogs and beach sandals
that most of the denizens of the Tampa Bay area of Florida wore, he was almost
overdressed.
* * * *
Adam was fooling around on his computer one morning, and clicked onto an
astrology website. He read with amusement the generic prediction for him as a
Scorpio.
I guess the simpletons who follow this junk feel it's a prediction just
for them even though it goes out to a million people, he mused.
Then he noticed an ad for a metaphysical store on Central Avenue in St.
Petersburg that offered "psychic readings" with the promise of helping a person
to understand their situation and to peer into their future.
I'm sure this is bullshit, he thought, but why not? I don't have
anything else to do, and it might be fun. Hell, I hardly ever go out
anywhere.
He logged off and went into the bedroom and put on a clean shirt, and
then went into the bathroom and ran a wet wash cloth over his shoes. He glanced
in the mirror at his scruffy appearance and ran a comb through his thinning hair
and then walked out of the house, locking the door behind him.
Chapter 2
Adam drove down 34th Street into downtown St. Petersburg and then turned
left onto Central Avenue. Every few blocks he would spot a homeless man or
woman standing by the side of the street holding a crudely-lettered cardboard
sign asking for a handout.
Although he was predisposed to lower his window and give them a dollar or
two, he rarely did so, never knowing if they were truly needy or were going to
buy drugs, or, worse yet, were simply con artists who would finish a day of
panhandling and then return to a nice tract home in suburbia and clean up and go
out for an evening on the town.
He had toyed with the idea of trying that himself, but then came to his
senses and wondered why he would do such a thing when he was not in need of
money.
He had quelled the same type of thoughts about printing his own money
after he had purchased a new printer for his computer. Matching the paper and
ink and the bizarre new designs on the currency were too challenging, and he did
not relish the idea of getting caught and spending time in a federal prison.
As he drove slowly down Central Avenue headed toward Tampa Bay and the
pier, the tone of the area changed from block to block. There were some classy
stores and restaurants and some really crummy-looking establishments.
This was an area popular with those of alternative lifestyles and with
young people who liked to just wander around and kill time. Muggings were a
daily occurrence.
Briefcase-carrying business men in suits passed derelicts who were
pushing stolen grocery carts full of their possessions and who were so far down
on their luck that it was doubtful if they would ever climb back up. All-in-all,
it was a microcosm of the broader American culture.
After dark, the area became raucous and dangerous and attacks and
robberies were common. It was a foolish person who would leave their car parked
on the street overnight or who would walk alone without having all their senses
on high alert.
* * * *
As he pulled into a parallel-parking spot, his car was almost rear ended
by a distracted woman talking on a cell phone who was driving
an old purple Cadillac. Adam cursed and glared at her, but she drove on
seemingly oblivious to her surroundings.
As his heart rate returned to normal, Adam peered through his windshield
at the store in front of him. The windows were darkened, and a sign over the
front read, "HavaSpell."
Huh, what a dump, Adam thought. Doesn't look they're going to pose any
threat to Wal-Mart!
Adam got out of his car and stepped up onto the sidewalk and stood trying
to work up the nerve to go in. He jumped back as a long-haired bike rider,
smoking a cigarette and wearing sunglasses and earphones, almost plowed into
him. He was getting a creepy feeling.
Adam walked over and read a sign that was plastered to the window.
"Psychic readings: $25.00. Madame Alexandra will answer your questions and will
look into your future."
Well, I wish she'd give me some answers about my being alone, but I'm not
so sure I want to know about my future! Adam thought.
He walked to the door and entered the shop. A bell attached to the door
jingled announcing his arrival.
* * * *
The place was dimly lit, and Adam waited as his eyes adjusted to the
darkness; he was in a large room. He detected a sweet smell of burning incense.
The walls were covered with strange posters and pictures.
He glanced around. There were several glass cases containing jewelry and
decks of tarot cards and other items that he did not recognize.
Several racks on the wall contained small bottles of oils and packets of
herbs as well as a selection of incense sticks. There was a shelf filled with
little crudely-made cloth dolls. A soft sound of throbbing drumbeats came from a
speaker on a far wall.
Adam shivered.
A battered old wall clock ticked off the minutes, and he was beginning to
feel stressed and was about ready to turn and walk out when a green floral
curtain parted in the back of the room, and a shapely brunette, who appeared to
be in her mid-thirties, walked in.
She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a white top that was partly
unbuttoned revealing an ornate five-star pendent on a silver chain that drew
Adam's eyes like a magnet. A partially obscured tattoo of what looked like a
dragon was visible on her ample left breast. Her skin was smooth like creamy
parchment. She smiled revealing flawless white teeth.
"Hello, welcome to HavaSpell. How may we help you?"
Adam gulped.
"I saw an ad for your store and just thought I'd drop by and take a look
at it."
"Well, we're very happy that you did. Is there anything in particular
that you're looking for?"
"Not really," Adam replied. "I just wanted to have a look. You have
some interesting items."
Boy, he thought, this woman may be in a weird place, but she sure looks
better than anyone that I met through those online dating services!
"Thank you. We try to carry a good variety of items for our customers,
and, of course, if you don't see something you're looking for we can probably
order it for you."
Adam didn't know what to say so he simply blurted out, "Those tarot cards
look interesting."
"Yes, they are. Here, let me take a deck out for you to look at. My
name's Desiree by the way...what's yours?"
"Adam," he answered, "Nice to meet you."
"Thanks," she responded as her eyes and smile and a faint musky perfume
smell engulfed him.
She handed him a deck of Gypsy Fortune Telling cards.
"Do you throw the cards?" she asked.
Why would I throw them? he wondered.
"No," he replied, puzzled.
"Well, this is an interesting deck," she replied, recognizing that he was
a neophyte in relation to metaphysical matters.
"Have you had your chart done or had a reading lately?" she asked.
Adam had no idea what she was talking about.
"Not lately," he replied, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.
"Madame Alexandra is in the store; would you like to speak with her and
have her give you a reading?"
"I don't know," Adam said, "I'm really not sure how that works."
"Well, she'll throw the cards for you and see what they tell her, and you
can ask her questions if anything is bothering you. She's my mother and is
really quite good."
Adam hesitated and then thought. Well, why not? What have I got to lose
except twenty-five bucks?
He felt uneasy, but, at the same time, he felt a strange excitement.
"Okay, I'll give it a try. Do I pay you now?"
"No," Desiree replied. "We can take care of that later."
* * * *
Adam followed the woman through the curtain and then down a hall. She
knocked lightly on a door and a muffled voice called, "Come in."
"Go ahead on in," Desiree said. "I'll be out in the main part of the
store when you're finished." She flashed him a feline-like smile that caused
his insides to go flip-flop.
Adam turned the knob and pushed on the creaking door and entered a small
dark room that was illuminated by a few flickering candles. The air was
oppressively warm and heavy and carried a faint odor that brought back memories
of his pot-smoking days. He also detected the same musky perfume smell that he
had noticed in the front of the store.
Madame Alexandra was seated behind a small table. She was staring down at
some colored stones that bore strange inscriptions and did not look up. A cloth
doll with pins sticking in it lay beside the stones.
Finally she lifted her eyes and said, unsmilingly, in a rasping voice,
"Sit down, Adam."
How does she know my name? Adam wondered with alarm.
She was a wrinkled, weathered-looking old woman who appeared to be older
than time and was clad in a loose-fitting red dress that covered her ample frame
and that bore a strange pattern of what seemed to be entwined vines and,
perhaps, lizards.
Several gaudy gold necklaces were draped around her neck, and they had
sinister-looking charms hanging from them.
Her hair was salt-and-pepper colored and was pulled back and held in
place by a mottled greenish bandana. She had long talon-like nails painted
scarlet red, and her fingers were covered with ornate rings, and her wrists had
gold bracelets that jangled when she moved her hands. Large hoop earrings
dangled accentuating her bright red lipstick and layers of poorly-applied
make-up and dark eye shadow. A blunt-like cigarette smoldered in an ashtray at
her elbow.
Her lips pulled back revealing yellowed teeth.
"I glad ya come see me," she said, in her imperfect Gypsy speech. Adam
remained mute; her piercing eyes held him locked in their penetrating gaze. He
remained standing and was ready to bolt for the door.
"I say sit down, Adam."
Adam dropped into the straight-backed chair across from Madame Alexandra
and sat staring at her uncomfortably. As she stared deeply into his eyes, it
had a mesmerizing effect.
"How do you know my name?" he asked.
"Da spirits tell me und show me ya comin' here see me. Ya here 'cause
Forces bring ya here, Adam. Nothin' happen by accident. When student ready,
teacher appear. I want ya relax und fergit what ya know und 'member things that
ya fergotten."
What the hell does that mean?" Adam wondered as he tried to understand
her garbled English and unravel this cryptic statement.
"Whata ya mean?" he asked.
"I mean ya need relax mind und let defenses down so we cin peer 'gether
inta yer present life und see what future hold in store fer ya."
She took the smoldering joint and puffed on it and blew across the desk
toward Adam who inhaled the second-hand smoke. Then she picked up a deck of worn
tarot cards and handed them to Adam.
"Shuffle um 'til ya feel it 'nuff," she ordered.
Numbly, Adam began to shuffle. He shuffled and shuffled as the old woman
watched intently. At last he stopped and looked at her inquiringly.
"Now, set um down, und cut um wid yer left hand und make three stacks."
Adam did so as she lit a stick of incense and placed it into a holder and
set it on the edge of the desk; the smoke curled up and wafted toward Adam who
breathed it in. It had a pleasant nectarous odor.
Madame Alexandra picked up the deck of cards and laid them out in a
cross-like pattern on the table. She turned each one over studying them
closely. There was one card left that remained face down.
Adam could contain himself no longer.
"Well? What are they telling you?'
"Many things," she replied guardedly. "This last un called result card
und one that most 'portant." She picked it up with her wrinkled hand and turned
it over.
It was key XV The Devil. They sat in silence staring at the card for a
long moment.
Adam broke the silence, "The Devil? What does that mean, The Devil?"
"Mean ya movin' inna whole new area uh yer life, Adam, und ya 'bout have
new 'periences."
"Experiences with the Devil?" he retorted.
Madame Alexandra smiled.
"Ya never know who ya meet as travel on Path a Life."
Suddenly, the whole situation seemed humorous to Adam. Here he was in an
old storefront shop talking with a woman who looked like a recycled mummy and
could barely speak understandable English, and he being told that he was going
to meet the Devil. He laughed.
Madame Alexandra smiled.
"Dat funny, Adam?"
"It strikes me as weird," he replied.
"Yes, is what peoples might call weird," Madame Alexandra replied, and
suddenly, as when one clicks on a computer mouse, Adam blinked and saw Desiree
sitting behind the desk smiling at him. Madame Alexandra was gone.
Adam jerked upright and started to jump up, but then he blinked again,
and the old woman was back.
"What the..." he exclaimed.
"Somethin' wrong?" Madame Alexandra asked.
"No, I just had something strange happen, that's all. It's okay," he
replied.
"Sometime when one begin ta evolve things happen. Shift a consciousness
happin'." She took another puff on her blunt and exhaled it in his direction as
the incense continued to produce smoke that drifted through the air toward him.
What appeared to be a snake materialized and was crawling across the wall
behind the fortune teller.
"Watch out!" Adam screamed. "There's a snake behind you!"
Madame Alexandra turned in her chair and took the snake in her right
hand, and, as she held it, she stroked it's head. She smiled.
Adam leaped to his feet and stepped back.
"What's wrong with you? That thing may bite you!"
"What thing?" the old woman asked. Her hands were empty and she picked
up the smoke and took another puff.
"The snake that you had in your hand!"
"I no see snake," Madame Alexandra replied. "Maybe ya see things. That
good sign if ya is."
A pinwheel of multi-colored lights spun into his vision. He rubbed his
eyes and blinked. It disappeared as he rubbed his eyes and breathed in more of
the smoke from the incense.
He opened his eyes, and Desiree was sitting behind the desk smiling at
him.
"What's happening to me?" he hollered.
"Yer consciousness expandin'," Madame Alexandra said; Desiree had
disappeared.
"I'm getting out of here!" Adam cried.
"Ya no want finish readin'?" the old woman asked.
"No! I want to leave!"
Adam made his way to the door and turned to take a final look at Madame
Alexandra. Desiree was sitting in her place.
He left the room and strode down the hall to the front of the store.
Desiree and Madame Alexandra were there talking with a customer.
Oh, I've lost it, he thought. I'm cracking up for sure.
He stood waiting to pay for his reading, and the man at the counter
turned and looked at him. It was the same man who had almost hit him with his
bicycle when he was standing out front on the sidewalk.
Desiree left her mother and the man and came over to Adam.
"I wanna pay you and get outta here," he said.
"Madame Alexandra said that she isn't going to charge you since the
reading was not completed." Desiree replied. Then she reached under the counter
and brought out a small black plastic bag and offered it to Adam.
"Here, Madame Alexandra said to give this to you and said that when you
get home she wants you to use it."
"What is it?" Adam asked.
"Just some incense and a holder. Simply burn it and inhale the
smoke...it will help you to meditate and feel calm."
Adam took the bag. "Okay, thanks."
As he was walking out the door, Desiree called to him.
"Be sure to come back and see us soon."
Adam did not reply. He walked to his car and sped off down the street
headed for home.
| 
Children`s Fiction
Non-Adult Fiction
