“Yes, I can help you,” she answered, “but my magic has a price. Although under the circumstances, perhaps you will be eager to pay it.”
“How do you possibly know ‘my circumstances’?” I asked the woman. My friend Lacey told me that her cousin Jennifer knew a woman who was a psychic. This “spirit goddess,” as she called herself, rented a small room in the tiny village 20 miles from my home. I deemed myself desperate enough to pay her a visit.
Perhaps “pay” was the operative word here. I didn’t expect her services for free, but… “Whatever my circumstances, what is your fee?” I asked.
The woman peered at me with interest under her long black eyelashes. She wasn’t young, but she wasn’t old either. She dressed in tight jeans covered almost to her knees in a loose purple tunic. Her long dark hair was covered by a sheer gray scarf that glimmered even in her unlit room. Her eyes bespoke of someone who had lived a lot of years, but her hands were free of veiny wrinkles.
“What are you willing to give me?” she replied.
I stood up. “I don’t have time to talk in circles,” I said. “You’re right, I’m rather stressed. But if you can’t help me . . .”
“Sit, sit,” the woman answered in such a soothing tone I felt the air release from me like a too-filled balloon. I deflated so quickly that I almost missed her chair. “Child, it’s not that bad,” she whispered.
“My name is Eve,” I replied.
“I know that,” she said, leaning back in her velvet-covered armchair. “And you can call me ‘Aurora.’”
My eyebrows rose. Aurora? This was getting too creepy.
“Dawn for short,” she said as if reading my mind. Well, maybe she was reading my mind. “And yes, I can,” she continued. “Aurora is the name for the Roman goddess of dawn. In my life, every day is a dawn – a new beginning. And you, my Eve, need a new beginning, don’t you?”
I began to shake, from the tip of my nose down to the top of my toe nails. She knew. She knew.
“But no one else knows, Eve love. So you don’t need to disappear, and you don’t need to lie. You don’t need to do anything. Just stay quiet.”
“Quiet is not my middle name,” I replied more sarcastically than I intended.
“No, but stupid isn’t, either,” Dawn shot back. “Go home. When someone asks if you’ve seen him, just say no, and go about your daily schedule.”
“But . . .” I began.
“No buts. No hesitation. No regrets and no worry. You’re fine. And so is he, believe it or not.”
I stared at Dawn incredulously. She could even go there?
“Yes, all of the elements of nature are open to me, child. Now leave. And return in a month. I’ll ask for my payment then.”
I scurried out before asking her what she wanted. I was quite fearful that in a month, I’d be hiding from the fear of Dawn, not from the consequences of last night.