In seconds, Hollie was flipped to the ground. Her loud exhalation upon impact with the mat echoed in the cavernous space. Grayce’s stomach and heart thumped with the sound and sight of Hollie on the ground.
Hollie stood quickly, her ponytail had relocated itself to a spot above her left ear and her oversized T-shirt twisted. Hollie’s eyes were dark. She walked to the corner and put her ponytail back on the top of her head before she moved toward Elaine again.
Hollie circled Elaine, her back hunched, ready to do damage. Elaine’s face and body remained relaxed.
Grayce couldn’t guess Hollie’s next move but she worried about what her street fighting repertoire might include. Hollie rushed Elaine for the second time, with her arm flexed and hand fisted. Elaine pushed Hollie back to the mat in one motion, as if batting at a pesky mosquito.
Each time Hollie hit the mat, Grayce’s stomach did somersaults and dives, dropping to the back of her knees as if she got flipped and slammed.
Hollie jumped up and charged again with her arms in the same attack position as Mary had demonstrated. Elaine easily deflected Hollie’s raised arm by grabbing it at the wrist and taking Hollie to the ground. The two women continued to circle. Hollie tried to change her timing and slow her charges, but Elaine continued to anticipate and redirect each motion.
Hollie’s white T-shirt stuck to her back. It was obvious after watching this demonstration that Hollie had survived her childhood by fearless tenacity.
Hollie was flipped on her back again. The silence in the room was shattered with Hollie’s shout and burst of laughter. “Uncle, Uncle.”
Elaine smiled widely, the first genuine of the day. She extended her hand to Hollie. “You’ll make a good aikido student. You have agility, strength and focus.”
Hollie’s need to decimate Elaine was ignored.
The two women came toward Grayce. Hollie had just found a way to heal herself, like Elaine.
The purpose of the visit was a reminder, a serendipitous instant of the universe. Grayce needed to trust, trust her intuition, and trust Cassie for back up. She would return to her practice of aikido, but not in this studio. Her practice would be solitary, in the silence of her house, her energy focused on stopping a scarred enemy who had attacked Davis and poisoned Mitzi.
They drove back to Fremont. Grayce listened to Hollie’s enthusiastic description of Elaine’s moves. “When I get good, I’m going to challenge James to a match. I would love to flip him.”
“I’m not sure James will be willing to do matches. I don’t think he does karate with people he likes.”
“I can get him mad enough to want to take me on.” The young woman wasn’t exactly on the path to spiritual enlightenment yet.
“I wasn’t planning on sharing today’s excursion with James or Davis.”
Grayce could feel Hollie’s stare.
“Why don’t you want them to know?”
“James would make too many jokes and Davis would ask too many questions.”
“No problem. It will make it more of a surprise when I flip James.”
“You definitely would surprise James.” She could imagine James’ response to Hollie trying to take him down. It actually might be pretty funny.
“Men don’t like it when women are powerful. I think Elaine does aikido to feel powerful.” Hollie said.
And just like back in the studio, Grayce’s stomach dropped and dove. Hollie had recognized Elaine’s anger. Grayce had learned from treating the abused how adept they were in reading the moods of those entrusted with their care. It was a key to their survival.
“That is quite insightful, Hollie. I do believe Elaine is working on whatever happened to her in her past.”
Grayce waited to hear the familiar cracking of the knuckles.
“I’m going to get as good as she is. And Boss, you don’t need to worry about doing aikido. I’ll take care of you.”
Did this mean Hollie would be giving up her video games for real life action?
“Thanks, Hollie. I appreciate it.” She wasn’t about to reveal to her assistant that danger was grinding closer each day, and she believed someone was stalking her. If Hollie got a whiff of a threat, she would never leave Grayce alone. The young woman already acted like her personal body guard.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that the man with the scar loomed somewhere, waiting. But she did not confide in Hollie. How could she tell anyone that she was preparing herself against a man with a scar from a vision she had received from a poodle?
Chapter Thirty-One
He smiled, then Grayce did.
She once told Dr. Zao that his gentle smile resembled the Dalai Lama’s. He chuckled, the light sound floating on the air, like the sweet music of the wind chime in her garden.
“Tea?”
“Yes, please.”
He poured from a plain brown ceramic tea pot. The ritual was the same. Time paused when she visited her mentor. Her fears and worries dissipated like the steam from the tea pot. “How are you?” He was always polite.
He really didn’t need to ask. He already knew. His kindness enveloped her like a soothing balm.
“I’ve been having a nightmare, the same nightmare. Someone is chasing me in a garden. It started with a new patient. During her treatments I have the most overpowering sensations—I go to a fearful place. When I treat her, waves of hostility overcome me. Her chi is low; her lung points sticky. I attempt to balance her kidney, liver and lung points. Instead of relaxing with treatment, she gets agitated.” Even to her own ears, her words sounded rushed, harsh, too intense.
She was leaning forward as she spoke, but now she sat back and took a deep breath.
He sat still in his wooden chair. “Yes?”
“During her last treatment, when I closed my eyes to focus, I had a vision of a man with a long twisted scar on his arm.” She took another deep breath. “I don’t understand what is happening to me.”
Another gentle smile.
“Mitzi has been injured twice. I first thought I was feeling her fear through my nightmares.” Her voice trembled. “But I’ve never had visions before.”
“You have a great connection with this dog.” Dr. Zao smiled.
“It’s different than any other patient. I can’t treat Mitzi’s fear. Instead, I’m taking it on, as if I’m always spinning with dark feelings when she’s near me. I’ve tried to explain my worries to her owner. He misunderstood. He believes the strong feelings are the attraction between us.”
She felt her face flush, the heat moving across her cheeks. Dr. Z, as she affectionately called her mentor, had known her since college when she first became interested in acupuncture. He was the only person who understood the extent of her gifts, and the connection with her sister.
She owed so much to Dr. Z. He had saved her in many ways. He helped her accept the “yin and yang of Grayce Walters” as he liked to tease her. She had begun to accept that a scientist could also have a strong bond with a deceased person and have gifts that science didn’t accept. He never saw any discrepancy in her warring sides. He saw only her goodness. He appreciated the goodness in everyone.
He nodded. Dr. Z never asked prodding questions. He let you wander until your mind became so tired you would eventually get to the heart of the matter and finally acknowledge the real problem.
“So her owner is a good man, yes?”
No pretending with Dr. Z. “Yes, I like him a lot.” It was true. She had let her heart get involved. “He’s a fire investigator. He holds deep pain. I can feel it. When I’ve tried to talk to him, he becomes angry, resistant.”
Another nod from her wizened mentor. She didn’t know Dr. Z’s age, but she thought of him as young and old at the same time.
“Getting too close to his pain, yes?”
It was always like this with Dr. Z—just one comment opening a world of understanding.
“Yes.”
“Do you know what causes so much pain and darkness in this man and hi
s dog?”
“He grieves the loss of his mother as a child, and the recent loss of his father.” She looked into Dr. Z’s black eyes.
“It is hard, Grayce, yes? You want to solve other’s problems.”
“I’ve never encountered anyone I couldn’t help.” Davis and Mitzi were the exception. “Davis is in the middle of a fire investigation. I believe someone wants to harm him. Mitzi knows and is trying to tell me.”
Compassion and concern flickered across his face. Dr. Z looked like he was sifting through all the words and delving deep into her heart.
He knew what her real fear was, why she was here today. To admit out loud that a poodle had given her a vision seemed delusional. She knew full well that science didn’t support such phenomena.
“Someone tried to poison Mitzi by feeding her chocolate. It was during the treatment, after the poisoning, when I saw visions of a black snake, but further in the treatment I realized it was a puckered scar on a man’s arm.” Grayce leaned back in her chair. “I can’t make sense of what’s happening.”
He was silent. Dr. Z never rushed his thoughts or speech. The silence lengthened.
Grayce bristled. “Should I change my treatment?” She wanted a direct answer, an easy solution. She had never felt irritated with Dr. Z.
“Maybe your skills are changing, expanding.”
“My skills aren’t working. I’m having nightmares and now visions.”
“Mitzi was close to death, open to a different consciousness, yes.”
She could only nod her head.
“Is it possible some barriers were unlocked by Mitzi’s altered state? Maybe new channels of understanding were released for you?” Dr. Z didn’t expect her to answer; his questions were always rhetorical. “You are a great empath. You’ve always been able to feel other creatures’ suffering and pain. Is it so hard for you to imagine you might be able to experience their thoughts?”
She sat upright. It wasn’t possible. It was too absurd. She never believed in the charlatans who could communicate with an animal over the phone. She wasn’t a quack.
Dr. Z shook his head. “So much fear for you?”
It always eased her burden when Dr. Z labeled her worries. The words spoken aloud lost their potency, like a nightmare remembered in the morning,
She was leaning forward again in her chair “But how is it possible?”
“What is the difference when you see pictures in your dreams and see Mitzi’s pictures?”
She let the thought settle, trying to understand words that were more than words—a wisdom that defied logic.
“It sounds like you’ve opened your heart to this dog.” Dr. Z pressed his hand to his chest. “And this man.”
Her heart sped. Heat moved through her body, pooling in her face and chest. She barely acknowledged her feelings for Davis. She was beginning to realize the truth in Dr. Z’s words.
“Dogs protect their owners, yes? Mitzi almost died and still wants to protect her owner. How could she do this?” He leaned toward her, closing the space between them. His black eyes focused on her, seeming to see beyond her, looking into her soul. “You’ve always told me that dogs’ hearts are open and can identify people who care about them, who need comforting. Is it so outlandish that Mitzi knows you care about her and Davis?”
“She knows. But that doesn’t mean I can read her thoughts. I care a great deal about many animals, but I’ve never been able to share their thoughts.” The heat moved to the top of her ears. Her voice got louder. “I saw Mitzi’s thoughts. A man with a scar on his arm.”
Dr. Z waited. He was really good at waiting.
“Did I really read Mitzi’s thoughts?”
Again, Dr. Z didn’t reply.
“Are you able to see other’s thoughts?” She had barely uttered the words when the realization struck her. Dr. Z could see others’ thoughts.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Her mind reeled.
He sat back in his chair, his posture open, accepting. “Does knowing of my abilities change yours?” He never raised his voice, but somehow she always knew when he was using his quiet force to make her look more closely.
“No.”
“We all have different gifts. It’s our own journey to discover them.” He smiled. “I will treat you, yes? It’s been a long time. It will help your mind to slow down, calm your fear.”
Grayce left the little house in Ravenna. She found herself sitting in her car, but didn’t remember the one block walk to her car. Her entire being was still in another space, a space that sparkled with bright light, her heart chakra open, resonating with awareness.
Grayce didn’t know how long she sat in her car, but finally, she turned the key in the ignition. It was dangerous for her to drive when she was still woozy from acupuncture, but she had to get back to her office. Between her trips to LA and her investigation, she had a lot to catch up on. At least at this time of night, the office would be empty. She needed the silent time and space to digest Dr. Z’s wisdom, his treatment.
A light of hopefulness radiated through her being. Dr. Z’s treatment prepared her for what was waiting, for whatever shock might come next.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grayce climbed the wooden stairs to her office. With each step the aging wood creaked, fracturing the nighttime silence. The smell of the pine wax that Mr. Lopez used on the fir floors and banisters assaulted her nose.
Every cell in her body went on high alert, synapsing at high frequency, heightening her awareness of every sound, smell, and sight. Her acupuncture treatment hadn’t calmed her nervous system as she first thought, but intensified her sensory input. Her neurons fired, as if she were on speed, on Dexedrine.
Reaching the top of the stairs, she was breathless, not from exertion of climbing but from her agitated state. She groped for the light switch. The school house fixtures barely lit the cavernous hallway. She walked down the passage to her office. Shadows danced on the walls.
The click of the rusty lock she’d inserted into the office door echoed in the quiet. She glanced over her shoulder down the hallway. Nothing.
In her office, Hollie’s familiar chipped tea mug positioned on the right side of her desk and the smell of lavender, used to calm her patients, soothed her jagged nerves. She inhaled the comforting scent, imagining she walked in bright sunlight through the purple French fields. She moved to the filing cabinet and the accumulated stacks of invoices and bills.
Staring at the bulging file, she wished she had hired an accountant. The problem was her system of bartering, discounting special rates for seniors or anyone who fostered abandoned pets didn’t fit on a spreadsheet.
With the heavy file in hand, she opened the door to her office. She heard a noise in the hall. Walking back to the heavy door, she peered down the hallway. “Mr. Lopez?”
No answer. Her nervous system was wacky from her treatment.
She needed to discuss her reaction to today’s treatment with Dr. Z. Her overstimulated response was similar to Mitzi’s. Instead of the deep sense of calm after acupuncture, like Mitzi, she was tense, edgy, hyper-vigilant.
She shut and locked her outer office door. The metal resisted. The old locks had to be replaced.
* * *
Weary after only an hour at her desk, Grayce stood, stretched and began to pack up the files. It was time to head home. The chamomile tea had relaxed her but also had made her sleepy, like the bear on the package.
She checked her cell phone one last time. Davis hadn’t texted to cancel their third official date. After their disagreement, she wished he had cancelled. Getting involved with him wasn’t a good idea. Who was she kidding? She was involved.
Fumbling with her keys in the hallway, she bent to lock the door. She could barely see the keyhole. The hall lights were out. A wave of fear surged through her body, settling in her feet, rooting her to the floor.
Just like on the wharf, danger seared down her spine. A draft of arctic cold rushed down the
hallway. She straightened, pushing against the resistance of her tight lungs, frozen muscles and inert feet.
The fir floor creaked. Heavy footsteps moved toward her. Her heart bolted from her rib cage into her throat. The old floor creaked again.
She ran into the darkness toward the front stairwell.
Her harsh breathing reverberated in her head. Out of the darkness, massive hands clamped down on her arms, hot breath on her neck.
She twisted, trying to use her weight to break the grip. The grip tightened.
“Going somewhere?” His rough laugh grated against her ear, her skin. Shivers of revulsion rolled through her body. He lifted her off her feet.
The stench of alcohol, sweat and tobacco enveloped her. Repulsed, she fought the bile that rose up in her throat. Her feet hung in the darkness. Cold sweat dripped down her back. She had panicked but needed to get back in control.
With his hands pinning her arms to her body, he held her over the top of the stairs. “If you don’t stop moving, I might drop you,” he snickered.
She relaxed into his hands. She couldn’t break his grip, but she could kick him, force him to release her. And then she would fall down the twenty wood steps.
“If you had just learned to stop sticking your high and mighty nose in places it didn’t belong, I wouldn’t have to hurt you.”
Her feet dangled in the air. She waited, marshaling her energy. His hands squeezed tighter, his nails digging into her skin. She ignored the pain and waited for the moment.
“You need to forget the wharf. Get my meaning, bitch?”
He shook her hard, hard enough to make her teeth hurt. His fetid breath blew across her neck.
“Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“If you know what’s good for you and your fuck buddy, Davis, you’ll forget our little conversation. I’d hate for something to happen to the almighty fire investigator.” He placed her on the edge of the steps. This was the moment.
The back of her knees and her stomach fluttered. Her heart sprinted, speeding out of control.
He pushed her forward. “This should help your memory.”
An Inner Fire Page 15
