by Amber Foxx
Mae had no such power and no idea what it would be like. If she studied with Gaia Greene, would she somehow acquire such abilities? She doubted it. The spirit world had given Jamie different gifts than it had given her. “Do you ever call them in now?”
“Nah. Just do a little song to send ’em off every night.”
“Do they go?”
“Fuck. Dunno. Hope so. Don’t feel ’em. They sort of whizz if they’re lurking. You think they’re still here?”
“I don’t know. I wondered what turned the fan on. Or the lamp. Or Wendy’s printer. If it was your energy or these spirits.”
He rolled his shoulders in a one-two shrug. “Dunno. That’s the one thing I can’t get a grip on, y’know? Fucking up the electrics. Dunno what makes things do that.” He prodded the edge of a pancake and frowned. “Bloody pan. Jesus.” He turned down the heat. “Fucking electric stove.”
“You’ll have to have me to your place. Bet your kitchen is nice.”
“You’d think. Fuck. Give me a week.”
She drank her coffee. What could be so bad about his kitchen? He’d lived there for five months and he’d obviously been cooking and eating. “A week for what?”
“Unpack. Buy furniture. Thought I had another three weeks or so, get ready to have you up. Fuck. Place is ...” He shook his head, squirmed the alternate-shoulder shrug again. “Next weekend good, though? Can you come up?”
“I’d love to.”
He served her three small pancakes, placed the syrup on the table, and hovered while she tasted a bite.
“They’re good, sugar. Get yourself some.”
Sticking his fork into the stack on her plate, he cut off a taste and returned to the stove, muttering with his mouth full. “Too crunchy.”
While he spooned more batter into the pan, Mae reviewed his long story. He’d reached the end, but one piece was missing. A big one, missing from the very beginning.
“Sugar? I know you think you died, and that’s how all this got started, but you can’t remember, and that bothers you. Do you want me to do some psychic work? Maybe I can see what happened to you.”
“Never.” The lightness of his cooking mood went out of him. He turned to face her, his eyes dark and hot. “You know that.”
“I know. But what if I could help you? I’d try to keep the journey focused—”
“No. Don’t ever want you looking back through me. Jeezus, I can hardly stand to do it myself and I’m paying Gorman a bloody fortune to make me. If I can’t remember, I can’t remember.” He returned to cooking, separating and then flipping the pancakes. “Probably surfaced on a fart, y’know? Blew myself ashore like a fucking motorboat.”
Chapter Six
Kate had signed two graduations over the weekend and then had five fortune telling clients on Monday. The last thing she wanted to do Monday night was more work, but she’d scheduled the meeting of the board of directors of the Spirit Fest Music Festival and Psychic Fair before she knew she would be that busy. This evening’s discussion should lead to her working less, though, and getting to AA more, as long as the other board members would go along with her requests.
The fair had no offices, so they’d agreed to meet in a downtown coffee shop. Arriving just on time at eight, Kate saw two of the three people she expected seated on the couches in the back. She rolled up to the coffee table to join Azure Skye, a billowing blonde with bright blue eyes, rosy lips, and a triple chin, and Ximena Castillo, a short, squarely-built woman whose lined brown face and work-worn hands contrasted with Azure’s pink smoothness.
As they exchanged greetings, Kate noted that Ximena was clad in an old gray T-shirt and sweatpants. The drab color drew attention to the tired circles under her eyes. Normally, Ximena wore bright dresses and jewelry like a tropical garden, but today she hadn’t even bothered with lipstick. Azure’s manner was more subdued than usual, too, though her tent of a dress was her customary Easter egg pastel, a minty green this time. She dipped a spoon into her frothy drink and made lifeless small talk about the weather.
Ximena rose and offered to get Kate a drink. Digging some cash out of her purse, Kate thanked her and asked for chai tea. While Ximena made her way to the counter—in slow motion, it seemed to Kate—Azure sipped her drink and fell silent. Their low mood didn’t bode well for the meeting, and Kate tried to brighten things up. “How’s work, Azure? After History’s Mysteries, I imagine you’ve been busy.”
Azure communicated with the dead. Already well known in Santa Fe, she had become famous nationally after a recent TV appearance. Ximena, a Mexican curandera, was less famous but locally well respected. The board was made up of the best.
Azure lifted a small cookie from a stack on her paper plate and took a dainty bite, eyes downcast. “I was busy. Yes. I’m ... taking a little time off right now.”
Kate swallowed a four letter word. I’m the one that needs time off. Ximena returned, and set the tea in front of Kate with her change, saying, “Here’s your tea.” As if it weren’t obvious. Whoa, I’m grouchy. Kate thanked her again and dropped the coins into her bag.
“We’re waiting on Jangarrai,” she said. “It’s time I had a musician on the board. He’s had some good ideas for the musical part of the event so I invited him to join. I wanted him here so he could know what’s going on with the psychic fair as well.”
The other two women looked at each other, then at Kate. “Excellent,” Ximena said finally. “His father’s a good connection. They may know people we haven’t worked with yet.”
“His father?”
“Stan Ellerbee. He’s an anthropologist. He did some studies on curanderismo with me.” She looked off into the far side of the room for a moment, a shadow of sadness crossing her face, and then returned her attention to Kate. “He researched traditional healing and shamanic religions all over Asia and Australia for a long time—that’s where he met Jamie’s mother—but Stan’s from here originally. He’s been studying local healing traditions for quite a few years since he moved back.”
“That’s good news. He might know some healers and shamans that I don’t. I’m having trouble getting people to sign up to do demonstrations. We may need to find some new participants.”
Azure and Ximena exchanged glances. Ximena looked down at her hands, and Azure put on a strained little smile. What was that about? Kate wanted to ask, but was distracted by Jamie making his entrance, carrying a bicycle wheel and bouncing it in little claps between his hands. He wore a big loud Hawaiian shirt with blue and yellow flowers, and a straw fedora with a pink striped band. His eyes searched the room, lit on her, and he grinned, calling out, “Kate!”
As he wove through the tables, lifting the wheel higher to avoid people’s heads, his expression shifted to a frown then back to a sudden smile and a near-laugh in some inner dialogue.
“Sorry. Late. Can’t find things. Lock. Y’know?” He propped the wheel against the wall, raised both his index fingers, tapped them against some unseen thing in front of him, narrowed his eyes in concentration, and broke into that vast, gold-toothed smile again. “Yeah. One second.”
He nodded to Ximena, said, “Good to see ya,” and half-danced to the counter to order coffee and a brownie. The other board members watched him. Their focus on the musician bothered Kate, but there was something larger than life about Jamie that compelled people to pay attention to him even if he was doing nothing that should have been interesting. He paid with a card, one toe tapping a steady rhythm, his shoulders and ribcage moving subtly in a dance-like fidget while he waited for the sale to be processed.
Carrying his coffee and his brownie, he came to sit beside Kate. Lobo ignored him, but Jamie jolted away from the dog as if he’d touched a hot stove, spilling a little coffee. He set it down. Still holding the plate with the brownie, he closed his eyes and placed his free hand on his belly. “What’s the matter?” Kate asked. “What are you doing?”
Jamie opened his eyes. “Sorry. Breathing exercises. Scared of dogs
.” He offered a less than full-strength smile. “Working on it, but I still get a little nervous.”
Kate ordered Lobo to move to her other side, and Jamie mumbled thanks.
“That looks good,” said Azure, her eyes on the brownie perched on Jamie’s upper thigh.
He gave her a wink. “Thanks. Chocolate’s not bad either.”
Azure blushed and almost smiled. Kate didn’t. She sipped her tea, her bangle bracelets sliding up her thin arm with a jingle. “Thanks for coming tonight, all of you. Do you need introductions?”
“Nah—not with Ximena.” Jamie reached across the table and clasped Azure’s soft pink hand. “Jamie Ellerbee.” His accent made it sound like Jiymie Illerbee. “Go by Jangarrai onstage.”
“Azure Skye. Nice to meet you.”
“Heard of you. Didn’t catch that TV thing, but—” He slurped his coffee, sniffed it, slurped again. “Mm.” A quiver of bliss. “If you could taste and smell God, it’d be chocolate and coffee.” He shook his head as if something had landed on it and took a huge bite of the brownie. “Heard you’re good.”
Azure made a bird-like movement, her chin poking forward and pulling back, let out a small, half-breathed sound, and nibbled a cookie. What is wrong with her tonight?
Kate suppressed her irritation and resumed the meeting. “My order of business tonight is to make some changes in responsibilities for the board. As director all I’ve usually asked of you is some creative input and approval of any major changes. I’ve appreciated that, and of course your names have done wonders for recognition of the quality of this event. But this year, I need more.”
They looked at her, Jamie sniffing his coffee again but attentive, Ximena solemn, and Azure almost sad. Kate continued. “I’ve been recruiting the participants, renting the venue, taking deposits from vendors, paying the musicians, doing the marketing, the bookkeeping, the web site, every little detail down to the tents and the schedule. Some of it’s easy, some of it’s hard, but the big thing is the time suck. I’ve been getting a lot of work as a sign interpreter, and my fortune telling business is picking up, too. That’s good, but my AA sponsor says that if I don’t stop being a workaholic, I’m going to relapse as an alcoholic. She’s right. I have to cut back. With your help, it’s going to be on the fair.”
“Jeezus.” Jamie choked on a bite of brownie, coughed until his eyes watered, and blew his nose in a napkin. “Sorry. That’s a bloody load of yakka. Could be a fucking job. This thing make enough money to hire someone?” He wiped his eyes with his hand, stifling another cough.
“No. I’ve never paid myself a cent. It’s a promotional event for local healers and psychics. They rent space and do demonstrations, sell books if they write them. I’ve had some spiritually themed artists rent space, too, to sell their work. Then we hire musicians to entertain and set the mood, and help draw a crowd. It’s designed to break even.”
“Fuck. Get bigger stars and charge more for admission.”
“Who? Name one.”
“Might have Harold Petersen. Talked to him yesterday.”
Kate was surprised and impressed, but doubtful. “He’ll fit in with a spiritual event? I think of Blues Ridge as old dope-smoking hippies.”
“Give me credit, Kate. He’ll do gospel if he says yes.”
“All right. Good. That’s one more musician, possibly, and I appreciate it. But there’s still the rest of the work load.”
“Jeezus. You’ve got to hire someone. I’d drink, too, if I was doing all that crap that you are.”
“We don’t have the budget to pay someone this year, even if we do decide to raise the admission. That’s revenue we don’t have in the bank yet.”
“Pay ’em later. I pay my manager after I earn something.”
Instead of taking on more work, Jamie had come up with an unrealistic way to do less. Kate turned to her other board members for help. “Ladies? Is there anything you think you could pick up?”
Ximena shook her head. “I’m very sorry.” She took a long drink of her tea. “Perhaps you should replace me on the board.”
Azure patted Ximena’s arm and gave Kate a placating little smile. “Of course she won’t.”
But I’d like to. Kate pulled back from the angry thought. Something was troubling Ximena. She shouldn’t replace her, just add another board member, or get more work out of Azure and Jamie. “What do you think you can do, Azure?”
“I can help with marketing. But—”She looked at Ximena.
The curandera shook her head. “Wait. Not yet. First let’s hear more of Jamie’s ideas. I like what he’s said so far. Maybe you should hire someone.”
Kate protested. “I need to split up the workload. Not fantasize about avoiding it.”
Ximena said, “This is what the board has always done. We vet major decisions. We come up with ideas. This is what I’m here to do. You have a new member with a good mind. Don’t shut him down yet.”
Kate felt chastised. Jamie annoyed her, but if he’d had the initiative to find Harold Petersen and ask him to do gospel, he might have some valuable suggestions. “All right, Jamie. I might not hire someone, but what else would you change?”
“Dunno.” He ate and drank. Abruptly, he put his plate and cup down, long fingers flying in a whirling motion as if to hurry the chewing and swallowing process. “Mmf. Yeah. The name. Make it all one thing, y’know? Psychic Fair always sounded a little shonky anyway, but—sorry, foot—” He mimed the extraction of his foot from his mouth. “Anyway, if it was called something that didn’t make the music and the other stuff separate, like—Spirit World Fair, then you’d have it all under one umbrella and the art would be part of it, too. Get more artists. Have some storytellers, dancers. Y’know. A real festival.”
“I like the name.” Kate had to acknowledge it was an improvement. “And getting more artists. That would increase the revenue if they paid enough for their space.”
“But you’d have to screen, y’know, not just take anyone. Don’t want crap for art if people are paying admission. Maybe you’d need an artist on the board. And—fuck. How do you screen psychics?”
“We don’t, but I invite the best known people as headliners.”
Jamie popped the rest of the brownie into his mouth and licked chocolate off his thumb. “Famous doesn’t mean good. There’s blokes that sing like they’re fucking yelling and they’re famous. Got to be a few quack healers with big names. Like Jill Betts.”
Kate had been thinking of inviting Jill to participate. The shamanic teacher had always turned her down in the past, but the low level of vendor registration troubled Kate enough to want to ask again. She didn’t like being so uncertain about her lineup with only weeks to go. She—and the members of her board—should already be planning how many booths, what size, and the layout of the vendors’ area, and writing the ads. If they could mention Jill in those ads, the fair would draw a huge crowd. “What makes you call her a quack? I’ve never heard that.”
“That woman’s so full of shit she needs another arsehole.”
“That’s a strong opinion. Can you back it up?”
A dark fire flashed in Jamie’s eyes. “She’s a fraud.”
“Her books sell millions, and I’ve heard that her women’s drum circle is amazing. I don’t see how a fraud could pull that off.”
“She does. Fuck, you go to some shamanic thing and nothing happens, you think it’s you. There’s no test for a good shaman. Jeezus. Wish there was. Some sort of verification. Somebody could—some unbiased person, y’know—test everyone that’s participating and see if they can do what they say they can.”
“That’s ridiculous. Do you how many people usually participate? That would take forever.”
“What? Thirty or forty people?”
“Yes. Think about it.”
“Then test the ones who’ll be the stars, y’know? They’d be ... dunno ... what am I thinking ... Like, if I’d gone into opera, I’d be in a union. I don’t mean a healers’ uni
on though, but something you join if you’re professional, like the way it means something in performing arts when you’re eligible to get in the union.”
“A guild,” Ximena said.
“Yeah.” Jamie held up his arms, miming the unfurling of a banner, speaking in a deep, announcer-type voice. “The Santa Fe Guild of Healers, Seers, and Intuitives.” He let out a snort-laugh. “That’d keep Jill Betts on the sidelines. Couldn’t get her fake arse through the door.”
Kate tried to ignore her aversion to Jamie and Jamie’s aversion to Jill and examine the idea on its own merits. It would take a lot of organization and a few independent experts to set up some kind of verification, but she knew she could pass it. Such a credential would be great for her business, and the guild would elevate the image of the fair. Jill, she suspected, might be more likely to participate rather than be kept out. It might finally be good enough for a teacher and healer of her stature. “This is more work for the board, but I like it.”
A small furrow appeared between Azure’s golden eyebrows and her blue eyes clouded. “You’d find a way to test all the vendors before they participated?”
“Nah.” Jamie gulped some coffee. “Just the ones who wanted to be in the guild. You’d be special.”
Ximena shifted to the edge of her seat. Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’ll be very good on the board, Jamie. I won’t be a member of this guild, though. Or part of the fair.”
Kate froze, too startled to say a thing. Why was Ximena backing out of the fair—and crying? Jamie reached to take the curandera’s hand, but she rose, escaping his touch. “I need to go.”
“Are you all right?” He looked up at her with huge, worried eyes. “Fuck. Did I say something? Ximena—”
“I have to go.” She picked up her purse, said goodbye to Kate and Azure, told Jamie to give her best to his father, and left.
Azure spoke barely over a whisper, standing and clutching a green crocheted bag. “I’ll stay on the board and do what I can.” Her eyes brimmed and reddened. “But I won’t be participating, either. In the fair or the guild.” Her voice broke, and she squeezed past the other chairs and out the door with as much haste as a woman her size could manage.
