by Rose Garcia
CHAPTER THREE
Moving across the country during senior year had benefits. For one, my parents had said they would buy me a new car. Unfortunately, they were so busy with the house and the new job they had to put it off. The solution? I would be driving to school with Infiniti. As much as I really didn’t mind Infiniti, I knew that driving with her meant I’d see Veronica. I planned to ask Infiniti about Veronica when she showed up at my door on Saturday afternoon.
"Isn’t it great that we’re gonna be driving to school together?" Infiniti wore a big smile and I noticed how tiny her teeth were, like kid teeth. "Oh, and about the party at my place, I’m really sorry about Veronica. She can be a total bitch sometimes, but she’s actually pretty cool. I promise."
My shoulders relaxed. "I’m so glad you said something because I swear she hates me." My thoughts went to Trent, Veronica’s ex who had come up to me right before I left. If she didn’t like me before, I was sure she really didn’t like me now.
"Nah," Infiniti said. "She’s just a little insecure, that’s all. You'll like her once you get to know her."
I wasn’t so sure about that.
"So you wanna come over? My mom’s not home."
I didn’t need to think twice about getting out of the house. Plus, I had already decided to forget about my visions, Veronica, and Trent so I could concentrate on adjusting to my new life. Maybe if I did, everything would be better, and I would feel normal again like I had back home in Elk Rapids.
When we got to Infiniti’s, she immediately headed for her garage. "You want some you know…" she brought her thumb and forefinger to her lips and inhaled sharply.
"No, thanks," I said.
"That’s cool. Just wanted to offer."
If I thought her clothes smelled like weed, then her garage absolutely reeked. "Whoa." I waved my hand in front of my face. "You hang out back here a lot?"
"Actually, my Mom does. I just sneak a bowl here and there. It helps with my ADHD." She grabbed a small glass pipe, lit the end, and breathed in long and deep. "Besides," she squeaked out while holding her breath, "weed comes from the Earth. Helps you connect with—" She let out a trail of smoke. "Nature."
"I guess I never thought about it that way."
She put the pipe away. "Seeing things differently is one of my talents. Now, on to the real reason I asked you to come over—Jan."
A shiver ran down my back. She had used that name last night when we played the cards. "Jan?"
"Yeah, Jan. The neighbor who gave me the cards from last night. I want you to meet her. She’s got some cool numerology she wants to show me."
She led me out the garage door and across the street. My pulse raced as images of the red desert danced before my eyes. "Infiniti, I’m not so sure—"
"Hey, Jan’s awesome. If anything, she always gives me great advice on things. You know, like a trusted grandma or something."
My curiosity made me follow her, even though a hint of fear settled in me. Jan lived in a two-story traditional home with off-white stone and brick. She had a lot of interesting and unusual yard art: a copper pole with a blue ball on top, a tree decorated with hanging forks and spoons, and pieces of colorful tile bordering her shrubs. When we approached the house, the front door opened almost magically, as if Jan knew we were coming.
Jan looked completely different then what I had pictured. She stood at least six feet tall, with puffy shoulder-length blonde hair. Deeply etched wrinkles lined her lips and blue-green eyes. I figured she was in her early sixties. Although warm outside, in the mid-eighties, she wore a long black-sleeved turtleneck, a multi-colored, ankle-length plaid skirt, and white athletic socks with black loafers.
"Hey, Jan," Infiniti said. "This is our new neighbor down the street, Dominique."
Jan stood at the doorway and studied me with a penetrating gaze. I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Her stare held me captive. "You don’t sleep well," she said.
My skin lined with goose bumps. How could she know that? "No, I don’t."
"Since when?" she asked.
Her voice commanded me to answer, even though I didn't want to. "Since, uh, moving here last week."
"Whoa, Jan, how did you know that?" Infiniti asked.
Jan’s eyes remained on my face while heat crept up my cheeks.
"Jan," Infiniti said with a little force behind her voice, breaking the awkward silence. "Are you okay?"
"Yes—Yes. I just, well, never mind. Come in, Infiniti, and welcome, Dominique. Welcome to Houston and to the fine subdivision of Rolling Lakes. I’m Jan Kelly. But please, call me Jan." Her deep voice almost vibrated within me. She held out her hand and gave me a firm handshake. Her skin was thick, wrinkly, and warm. "Come, have a seat."
"Thank you, Jan. It’s nice to meet you," I muttered, following her inside.
The inside of her house sparkled with cleanliness. Her walls were a crisp white. The floors lined with a shiny dark wood. Like an art gallery, paintings covered her walls from floor to ceiling. Most were of woodsy landscapes, except for one. It was a little girl with long white hair and big green eyes. For a minute there, I thought her eyes were following me, and I found myself avoiding her face. The furnishings were dark antiques, accented with crystal vases and bowls. But what struck me the most was the overpowering smell of vanilla that hung in the air.
"Your home is very nice," I said.
"Thank you, my dear. I enjoy having beautiful things around me."
Jan led me and Infiniti to a blue couch. It had wood trim that curved down a little in the middle. It reminded me of a couch you might see in an old-fashioned movie. She motioned for us to sit while she took a seat on a black and white striped chair. She grabbed a pen and some paper from an oversized dark wooden chest that served as her coffee table. "I’m going to tell you your soul lives."
I glanced at Infiniti through the corner of my eye, wondering if she was as freaked out as me, but I couldn’t tell. "Soul lives?" I asked, trying to disguise the fear in my voice.
"Numerology tells us that we have nine soul lives on this Earth. Nine tries to get it right, or nine tries to do what needs to be done before we pass on to the other side."
I sat there, interested and scared all at the same time, wondering which soul life I was living, wondering what I needed to do to pass on, recalling the feeling of dread in that red desert which reminded me of death.
"Let’s start with you, Dominique. What year were you born?"
"1994."
"The day?"
"The third."
"And the month?"
"January."
"Ah, just over a month away," Jan whispered. She wrote the numbers down: 1994, 3, 1, one on top of the other and added them. The total was 1998. She crossed out the nines until there was only the one and the eight. She added them to get nine. She circled it. Her gaze pierced right through me, her brow furrowed, the lines on her face looked pronounced and worry-filled. "This is your last life." The vanilla smell in the house grew stronger. "You better get it right this time."
My thoughts flooded with my vision. Jan leaned forward, as if trying to read my mind. I did my best to shut off my thoughts, just in case. Thankfully her attention left me when the booming chime of a clock from somewhere in the house sounded.
She turned her attention to Infiniti. "Now you, my dear."
Infiniti, eager to go next, blurted out, "1993, May, first."
Jan wrote the numbers: 1993, 5, 1, and added them. The total was 1999. She crossed out the nines leaving just the one. "Ah, you’re a one. You’re brand new."
An uncomfortable feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. While Infiniti chatted about senior year, Jan’s eyes kept searching mine, her gaze smothering me until I almost couldn’t breathe. Finally, I stood. "Thank you for having me, Jan. But I better get home. I’ve got tons to do before school tomorrow."
I made my way to the door and Infiniti followed. "Thank you again, Jan."
"You’re very welcome," she replied,
her head cocked to the side, her eyes still glued on me.
"Yeah, thanks, Jan. See ya around," Infiniti said cheerfully.
Once outside, I took in a deep breath, erasing the vanilla scent from my lungs and replacing it with the smell of dirt and trees.
Infiniti stretched her arms. "I’m freakin’ starving. Wanna come over and hang out?"
"Sure," I said, my mind replaying the penetrating and eerily all-knowing look on Jan’s face while she studied me.
Infiniti stared at the sky. "Clouds are cool," she said. "And that visit with Jan—that was really cool." She brought her head down and focused on me. "So how does it feel to be a nine?"
"You don’t seriously believe in that stuff, do you?" Shivers still rippled through me and I wondered if I was trying to convince her, or me.
Infiniti shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, why not? It’s fun."
My nerves began to ease with each step away from Jan’s. "I don’t know. It just seems so freaky."
Infiniti wiggled her fingers. "Totally freaky," she said with a giggle. "And speaking of freaky, Trent sure did ask a lot of questions about you last night."
"He did?" We went into Infiniti’s and headed straight to the kitchen.
"Yep, and Veronica was pissed. I mean, I totally had to calm her down." She popped a Twinkie in her mouth and handed one to me.
"That’s just great," I said, not wanting to be the hated new girl before even starting school. My stomach tightened and I pushed the Twinkie away.
"Hey, don’t worry about her. She’s always pissed about something. Besides, she had her eye on someone else by the end of the night anyway. So you’re cool."
"Good," I said. "The last thing I need is to get caught up in drama." I thought of the red vision, the card I had drawn, and now the thing about my soul life. "Besides, I just want to keep my head down, finish this year, and get back up North for college."
Infiniti had downed her Twinkie, and shoved another in her mouth. "You know, I like you, Dominique. You’ve got it all figured out. I think we’re gonna be good friends, you and me."
She was so tiny, her arms and legs like twigs, and I couldn’t help but wonder where she put all the calories. She was also really friendly, and I liked that about her. I smiled. "Yeah, that would be great."
As I let myself out, I noticed an Ouija board on the bookshelf. I hadn’t seen one of those in years. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised at all to see it there.
