by C. M. Murphy
"I'm only half white."
"He doesn't know that," Doug shot back. Then he yelled out, "Yolanda!"
"What?" Yolanda yelled.
Alma shot Doug a look.
"Don't you find it weird that only the white people in the office ever get overtime?"
"That prick!" Yolanda muttered under her breath and snapped up another call.
The on-hold number jumped from one to six. Alma nudged Doug, and they logged back in.
Rick returned from the bathroom twenty minutes later. Alma's gut churned as she watched Yolanda log off her station and march across the office to confront Rick.
"Why don't you ever give any of us Mexicans overtime?" Yolanda asked, not masking her anger.
Rick put down the tan bag he'd brought to the restroom. Alma had never noticed it before. That's probably where he kept the newspaper.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rick said.
The incoming calls died down to zero. Everyone's attention focused on Yolanda and Rick.
"I should get the overtime. I have the best sales," Yolanda said as she folded her arms.
"You have overtime next weekend," Rick said, his face red with embarrassment.
"That's because Doug and Alma asked for it off."
"That's right!" Doug piped in. "It's Alma's aunt's birthday party."
"See! They get all the overtime unless they ask for the same day off, and they're the only white people except for you."
"Alma's like part Chinese," Rick said.
"Filipino!" Doug called out.
"All those people are the same," Rick said.
"Whoa!" Yolanda said at his use of "those people."
The room quieted. Doug turned to Alma with an I-told-you-so expression. Alma's eyes widened.
Rick's face flushed a deeper red.
"Looks like we're going to check out that music box," Doug whispered to Alma.
Alma forced herself not to let her smile get too big. That didn't seem appropriate.
Haniel waited behind the counter of the shop. He caught himself holding his breath, and then let out an anxious laugh. The weight of his father's expectations made him tense. Haniel normalized his breathing and told himself to be cool. It would only prove James right if he blew it by appearing overeager or nervous.
Haniel reached under the counter and grabbed a basket of receipts next to the cardboard box of junk his dad had prepared. The box was a test of some kind for Alma, but his father hadn't shared the details. Omissions like that added to Haniel's growing insecurity. James didn't trust him.
He reached for the ledger in the drawer next to the register. Doing a little work would distract him. He could do the books with Lotus 1-2-3 on the ancient shop PC, but he enjoyed doing the work by hand. If business picked up, he'd upgrade to a new computer that could run Windows 3.0 and Excel. Haniel busied himself recording the receipts, and his nerves calmed.
The bell over the door tinkled. Haniel paused before looking up. He didn't want to appear overeager. It disappointed him when he lifted his head and found an elderly woman with curly hair holding a pair of boots.
"Can you stretch the calves on these?" she asked as she set the boots on the glass countertop.
"Of course," he said slipping into customer-service mode. He enjoyed the customers and running the business. A part of him hoped that his father would move on after all of this was over and leave Haniel to live a normal life. But his father never talked about what came after the girl.
"Have you been here before?" Haniel asked, part making conversation and part hoping to satisfy his curiosity.
"I just got these on sale and saw an open parking spot in front of your shop," the woman said with a smile.
Her voice sounded so familiar. Then it struck him. "You're a professor at Cal State Northridge, aren't you?" Haniel asked, knowing she was Professor Ann Cassidy. He struggled to contain his excitement. An Immortal Mortal was in his shop, today of all days! This couldn't be a coincidence.
"I teach a few classes at Valley College, too," she said, her voice noncommittal.
Haniel didn't introduce himself, but explained to the professor he'd graduated from Cal State Northridge last year, although it was actually three years ago. He told her how he intended to take one of her anthropology classes, but couldn't schedule it in with all of his math studies. The truth was his father forbade it.
The young man's undue excitement put Professor Cassidy on alert. Living over a dozen lifetimes, she'd learned to trust her well-honed intuition. She took her claim ticket from the young man and turned for the door, careful to listen for the sound of his feet rushing from behind the counter.
"Would you mind checking out some antiques for me?" he asked before she reached the door. Cassidy stopped and turned back. Of course. He must've heard about her spotting the fake museum piece. She'd brought too much attention to herself doing that. Cassidy hadn't intended to cause a stir spotting the forgery, but she'd been with the duke when the original vase had been delivered. She'd blurted out that it wasn't his before she'd thought the better of it.
"I have a buyer coming from Valley Classified in a few minutes," the young man said, breaking the silence. Cassidy hadn't intended to build tension by not answering, but she decided to go with it and remained silent. People always filled silence with information. If she'd learned anything over her many lifetimes, it was that one rarely regretted remaining silent.
"It's an amazing stroke of fate you being here and all," the young man explained.
The word "fate" caught Cassidy's attention. Words like "fate" and "destiny" popped into the minds and out of the minds of ordinary humans at the most interesting times. Cassidy decided to stick around.
"Despite what you may have heard, I'm an anthropologist, not an archeologist. I'm not good at appraisals."
It was her standard disclaimer. It wasn't true. She'd studied so many things over the years including archeology, but it kept people from bothering with every piece of junk they found at a yard sale.
Haniel reached under the counter and pulled out the cardboard box. "This is what the ad was for," he said, handing her the music box.
Even at a glance, Cassidy surmised the music box wasn't worth much. Holding it in her hands confirmed her initial assessment. The tacky trinket had been deliberately aged and painted to appear like metal, but it was just plastic molded onto a standard low-quality steel base. Cassidy tried to think of a tactful way to let the young man know that his treasure was worthless.
"Hmm," she said, stalling for time. Her eyes fell on the cardboard box. "Let's see what else you've got here."
The bell above the door tinkled. Cassidy assumed it was the young man's buyer. She felt bad for the person who drove in rush-hour traffic to check out that worthless music box. Cassidy dug around the box of junk and spotted an old pocket watch missing its chain. Her heart pounded as she picked it up. The timepiece hummed in her hands. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned it over. There it was engraved on the back—a small infinity symbol. Bernie's watch!
Over the past two decades, Cassidy had gone to countless antique shops, estate sales, auction houses, and she'd happened upon it in a random box in a shoe repair shop.
Cassidy's mind whirred with the implications of her discovery. She'd completely forgotten another person had entered the shop until the young man spoke.
"You're here," he said. "Alma, right?"
Cassidy's head shot up upon mention of the name, Alma, and found herself staring at a ghost. The young woman's long, dark hair, the expression on her oval face, and even her small rounded shoulders made her a dead ringer for Bernadette Fernandez. Impossible! This wasn't the way this was supposed to happen.
Alma and Doug approached the counter. Alma wasn't enthused to see an older woman in a designer suit looking at the items. She didn't want a bidding situation.
At the same time, Haniel wasn't happy to see Doug. It hadn't occurred to him that he might have to beat out a rival
for Alma's affections. He pretended like the man didn't faze him, but her companion's good looks rattled Haniel's confidence.
"I was just showing Professor Cassidy the music box," Haniel said, pleased that his voice had come across as casual.
Alma frowned. Doug put his hand on her arm. Haniel fought to keep his pleasant expression unchanged. Cassidy remained dumbfounded.
This wasn't going well for anyone.
Alma broke the silence. "I forgot to get your name when we spoke."
"Haniel."
"Daniel?" she asked.
"Like Daniel, but with an H," he corrected.
"Oh," Alma said, and feeling stupid, she jumped to introduce her best friend. "This is my friend, Doug."
Doug put his hand out for Haniel to shake. The two men shook—each squeezing a little harder and longer than necessary.
Alma turned her full attention to Haniel for the first time. He was cuter than she dared to hope. He looked about two inches shorter than Doug, so he was still tall. Maybe about six feet. He had short, black hair, and an angular jaw.
From the way Doug glared at him, Alma knew the Haniel's good looks weren't lost on her friend either. Doug always glared at men he considered handsome. He said he did it to keep them from getting too cocky.
But what captivated Alma most about Haniel were his eyes. They were a light blue-gray that almost appeared purple. They made him look mysterious. She wondered how old he was. He looked to be a little older than Alma, but not by much.
He smiled back, and she noted that he even had perfect teeth, with the exception of one incisor that was turned a tad out of place. Alma thought it added to his charm.
Doug spoke up. "Can we see the music box?"
Embarrassed, Alma nodded yes and hurried to the counter. Doug remained close to her. Alma smiled. Her best friend was always protective.
Haniel handed Alma the music box, but the minute Alma held it, she knew it was junk.
"You don't like it," Haniel said.
"It's not that. It's just I was hoping for something older," she said.
When she started hunting for gold, certain objects spoke to her. Some even sparked stories in her mind—especially the older antiques. Somehow the older the object, the more it triggered Alma's imagination. She'd pretend she was in another time and another place. Somehow the antiques made her little fantasies come alive.
"Do you want it for like five bucks?" Haniel asked.
Alma was tempted to buy it just to be nice, but she hated collecting stuff and was disciplined with her money. On the other hand, she did like Haniel.
She was about to cave when he said, "Don't worry about it. What about these other things?" Haniel took the watch from Cassidy, put it in the box, and slid it across the counter toward Alma.
"I was actually interested in buying that," Cassidy said. She hadn't expected the timepiece to be snatched out of her hands.
Alma poked in the box, and the moment her hand grazed the watch, she knew she wanted it. It hummed with history. She'd never been this attached to a new find in all of her gold hunting.
"This looks pretty decent," she said, trying to hide her excitement. Alma couldn't wait to go home and let her imagination take hold. The thing had to be at least a hundred years old.
Professor Cassidy interrupted. "I'm willing to give you a hundred dollars for the watch."
Alma's gaze shot from her newfound treasure to her rival. Alma only had sixty dollars with her.
"Wow!" Haniel said, taking the watch from Alma and pretending to look at it more closely. "This watch must be pretty old if you'd pay hundred dollars for it, Professor Cassidy."
"It matches another watch in my collection. This would be a nice complementary piece, but I can't imagine it would be worth much on its own." The professor realized she'd overplayed her bargaining hand by leading with all the money she had on her at the moment. But she could get more money from an ATM nearby. She needed the watch to ensure Bernadette's vision came true.
"You teach at my school," Doug interjected, also recognizing the professor.
Alma elbowed Doug. He was fraternizing with the enemy.
"I've only got sixty dollars on me, but I can give you another sixty come payday," Alma said.
"It's not worth that much," Professor Cassidy said.
"I wouldn't want you to go over your budget," Haniel said to Alma.
"I have forty bucks," Doug said, pulling the money out of his wallet and giving it to Alma. "And since you seemed fine with the hundred-dollar offer, we'll give it to you today. After all, Alma called first."
"That seems fair," Haniel said. Alma beamed with excitement, which made Haniel smile until she hugged her friend. Haniel's expression turned sour for a second, but he regained his composure before Alma noticed. Doug had seen it, but no one but Doug knew that. Alma dug into her pocket, pulled out her part of the money, and added it to the forty bucks from Doug.
"I'll hit the money machine down the street and make it two hundred," Cassidy said.
Alma's face fell. Two hundred dollars was well out of her price range.
"I'll tell you what," Haniel said reaching for the money in Alma's hand. "I'll give you the watch," he said to Alma, "and I'll stretch your boots for free," he said, turning to Cassidy. He held his hand out for Alma to shake on the deal. They shook hands. Alma sensed Haniel held her hand for a second longer than necessary. When she looked up at him, he winked. Her heart jumped when he handed her the watch.
Alma held her new treasure in the palm of her hand. It was an old pocket watch that was missing its chain, but the weight of the metal revealed its quality.
"Sorry, professor," Haniel said.
Cassidy nodded and offered her hand to Alma to shake. "No hard feelings. It's a good buy at a hundred dollars."
Now that they weren't competing for the watch, Alma harbored no ill will. She pushed the timepiece into her pocket and reached out to shake the woman's hand.
As their hands clasped, the light in the room flared to a blinding white, and the sensation of falling into a bottomless hole overwhelmed Alma. Snapshots of people, places, and things flashed into Alma's mind. A classic car. A woman with bobbed hair. A farm. Mountains. Books. Women. A castle. An old church. A broken coffee cup. The images flooded through her thoughts faster and faster until they were unrecognizable.
"Alma! Alma!" Doug called out, but it sounded like he was a far away. It was as if Alma was under water.
Alma tried to blink but was unsure if her eyelids had even moved. The images flashing in front of her weren't affected in any way. It was as if Alma's mind was dreaming in quick scenes on fast forward while her body was still awake. Doug's voice faded. Her vision blurred into a purple haze and then there was darkness.
Chapter Three
Doug caught Alma before she collapsed. He kneeled and laid her down on the floor to keep her from hitting her head. Haniel rushed around the counter to see if Alma was all right. Neither he nor Haniel understood what had happened, but Professor Cassidy had suspected Bernadette's daughter had experienced an Awakening. But in all the professor's lifetimes she'd never seen an Awakening outside of her own kind.
Doug and Haniel called to Alma and shook her gently to try to wake her. Cassidy moved closer to look. She could tell from Alma's flushed coloring and the moving of her chest that she would be all right.
"She should be up in a minute," Professor Cassidy said. "I'm sure she'll be fine."
Alma heard the woman's voice and blinked, happy to note that her efforts had an actual effect on her eyelids. Alma found herself on the floor with Doug, Haniel, and the professor staring down at her. Alma hated drawing attention to herself, and this was way too much. She sat up, imagining the dust all over her clothes and how ridiculous she must look.
"Careful, sweetie. Not too fast," Doug whispered.
She knew she must have scared her best friend for him to call her sweetie. He never did that. She gave Doug a reassuring smile.
"I'll
help you help her up," Haniel said, slipping his shoulder under her arm and offering her his other hand to steady her. Doug had her other arm.
Alma was on her feet in a few moments. But the two men gave her a moment to steady herself. Haniel looked down at her, and for a moment their eyes locked.
"Let me give you my card in case you ever want to sell the watch," the professor said, stepping closer to Alma.
Alma broke away from Doug and Haniel to step away from Cassidy. "That's okay," Alma said, and hurried to leave. She needed to get away from the lady that made her faint.
Doug followed after her, but Alma paused in the doorway and turned back. She'd wanted to talk to Haniel longer, but she'd probably made a horrible impression already. Feeling she had to say something, she said, "Thanks for selling me the watch."
"Anytime," he said, his voice low and sexy.
Alma blushed. Doug glared, but Alma didn't notice.
Haniel did but didn't let it show. After they left Haniel could tell Alma liked him at least a little, but that "friend" presented a problem.
Professor Cassidy wanted to chase after the girl, but thought better of it. She didn't want to scare her any more than she'd already had. The watch was definitely a presage, an object that psychics handed down from daughter to daughter in families gifted with the sight. But nothing had gone the way it was foretold. Cassidy worried Bernadette's death may have been in vain.
"Are you feeling okay?" Haniel asked the professor.
"Fine," Cassidy said, studying the young man. His expression seemed concerned, but Cassidy sensed his sympathy was fake.
"Do you think she likes me?" he asked.
Ah. That's what it was. He knew he was supposed to look concerned, but his crush was occupying his mind. "I think she might," Cassidy answered and smiled. It might be handy that this young clerk was so taken with Bernie's daughter. "Do you have her number by chance?"
"No," he said, realizing she rushed off before he could get it. "But I know I'll see her again," he said. He told himself he could reach her at Valley Classified, but he knew his father would be angry that he hadn't gotten her number.
