by Amber Foxx
Kate and Mae both said “yes” at the same time.
“It was kind of sad. She was in a hospital bed with oxygen tubes in her nose, and there was a younger lady sitting with her, showing her some pictures. I didn’t think she was a relative. She was acting more business-like.”
Kate described Sierra. “Was that her?”
“Yes. She wasn’t actually in the room with Ms. Stein. I don’t know how to explain it. She was there, but she was outdoors somewhere at the same time, at the place in the pictures. It looked like one of those ghost towns around here, with the house falling down and everything.”
“There are ghost towns?” How did Kate not know this? She and Tim needed to get out of Santa Fe more often. “Where?”
Mae kept her focus on the children and Lobo scampering back and forth. “All over Sierra County. Old nineteenth-century mining towns.”
“We’re in Sierra County?”
“Funny, I noticed that coincidence, too, when I saw Sierra’s childhood—shoot. Ezra. That dream. Was it a small house? Might have been painted red once? Were there three steps to the front door? A fenced place to the left of the yard that might have been a garden once?”
As she progressed through her questions, he nodded, agreeing with each detail of the description.
“I think she’s from around here,” Mae said, looking at Kate and Ezra. “Her parents could have named her for Sierra County. Maybe she wants to buy back their old farm with Magda’s money. To start the retreat center.”
Ezra drew his head back. “In that rundown place?”
Kate seconded his doubt. “Why? There’s a big Tibetan community in Santa Fe, and people with money to spend on alternative healing.”
“We have a Tibetan meditation center here,” Mae said.
“And I bet that’s all the area can support. Your town’s pretty small and it’s in the middle of nowhere.”
“It is. But people travel to retreat centers and ashrams that are out in the middle of nowhere. Isn’t that part of the appeal?”
Kate tried to picture Yeshi buying a rundown, abandoned farm in the desert for his retreat center. She couldn’t. “You haven’t met Yeshi. He strikes me as down-to-earth and practical. I can’t see him buying a place they’d just have to tear down.”
“He might if she asked him to. But I wonder why Sierra would want her old home back. I didn’t get the feeling she was happy there.”
Jamie emerged from his suite, heading toward the Red Pelican, and Kate checked the time. They had to break off the discussion, as the retreat’s morning session was due to begin.
On entering the Loft, she noted that Sierra was conspicuously absent. Kate asked about her, and Yeshi only shrugged, saying, “Perhaps later.” Kate was both relieved and frustrated. Most of the plans they had made that morning were based on the assumption that Sierra would be around.
Yeshi sat on the corner of the bed and translated some of the mantras Jamie would be chanting. Once again, Jamie’s voice had a transcendent effect on Kate, which faded as Yeshi guided a long meditation. She was restless but drowsy by the time he started his lecture on the fundamentals of Tibetan medicine.
Kate moved her chair to park between Bernadette, who sat on a cushion on the floor taking notes as always, and Jamie, who had sunk deep into the couch beside Chuck and Daphne Brady. Reading over Bernadette’s shoulder could be informative, and Jamie might be distracting enough to keep Kate awake.
Yeshi began with a review of the three nyepa, or systems—lung or wind, tripa or bile, and badken or phlegm—and their interactions with the five elements of earth, water, fire, wind, and space. Now Kate better understood the advice he’d given her, and noticed Bernadette had written, “consistent, accurate.” In other words, not Sierra-like. Yeshi explained that his wasn’t a disease-oriented model of medicine, and that a healthy lifestyle was often the most beneficial treatment.
Jamie muttered, “Healthy lifestyle,” under his breath with unmistakable sarcasm, and Posey, on a cushion near his feet, gave him a disapproving look. Kate moved her chair closer to Jamie and nudged him. He whispered, “Sierra eats cheeseburgers.”
Kate doubted Yeshi approved, not after what he’d told her to eat. The Tibetan doctor’s subtle straightening betrayed that he’d overheard, but he continued, saying that spiritual and behavioral changes would address the root cause of conditions. Massage and mantras were most helpful. Herbs, acupuncture, and medicines weren’t always needed.
Sierra’s core supporters didn’t like to take medicine. Was he building up to a solicitation for the retreat center?
Bernadette nodded as she wrote: effective preventive health care. Maybe Yeshi was telling the truth about Tibetan medicine, not making a sales pitch, but he and Sierra had to be influencing each other and agreeing on ideas. Otherwise, how could they be working together?
Kate thought she detected traces of Sierra when Yeshi mentioned something called Dzog Chen, self- liberation of samsara nirvana. Between his use of Tibetan and Sanskrit, she didn’t quite understand it, but “self-liberation” echoed the support group’s lingo of getting free of self-stories.
As Yeshi’s lecture progressed, he mentioned that his training included the study of death omens. Jamie let out a soft, “Bloody hell,” and interrupted to ask, “You actually tell people if you see one?”
The Tibetan doctor smiled. “Only if they ask. I do not think it is healthy to frighten people.”
“Then you should—”
Kate put a hand on Jamie’s arm, in the same the way Tim sometimes reminded her to chill out when she was losing her cool. Yeshi resumed his talk, and Jamie hissed in Kate’s ear, “He should remind Sierra about that. She told her soul group we could all die if we don’t do what she wants.”
That was one hell of a way to manipulate people who were trying to heal themselves. Kate had been looking for evidence of collaboration, but Sierra appeared to be acting without Yeshi’s approval. As a team, they made less and less sense.
After the talk ended, Posey nervously announced that she’d received a psychic message from Sierra and would, at her request, be running the soul group meeting. Kate caught Jamie’s skeptical eye roll and mimed texting. He nodded.
The caterers delivered a light vegetarian meal. Since Don had said Yeshi’s tripa diet could be good for her, Kate let Jamie serve her a plateful of the unsatisfying stuff, and then felt obligated to endure his random small talk as he poked at a fruit salad, going on about how kiwi fruit made his tongue feel funny, the best way to core and peel a pineapple, and other fruit-related trivia. Annoying though it was, perhaps his chatter meant he was feeling better.
Leon stood beside the breakfast bar, his long thin arms folded over his narrow chest, his eyes fixed on Yeshi, apparently waiting to speak to him, but Yeshi was busy talking with several participants about the qualities of the various foods in terms of the three nyepa. Leon finally walked off with small, rapid steps toward the second bed. Kate finished her meal quickly and followed him. This was one aspect of the plan that didn’t require Sierra’s presence.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. As soon as she spoke, she remembered that she’d meant to be diplomatic and to have Bernadette with her. Had she been too abrupt?
Leon didn’t seem to mind her question. He removed a yoga mat from the stack between the bed and the far wall and unrolled it on the floor. “We need to do the Tibetan yoga. It’s part of our self-healing. Doesn’t Yeshi realize that? How could he skip it?”
“I don’t know. It does seem odd, now that you mention it. Don’t he and Sierra work closely together?”
“They say they do.” Leon sniffed. “But she’s the real spiritual teacher. He’s just a glorified massage therapist.”
Kate disagreed but held her tongue. “She does come across as more of a mystic. Is it normal for her to send psychic messages to people?”
He sat on the bed to remove his shoes, fumbling with the Velcro closures. Was he upset, or were his symptoms
worse than she’d realized? Maybe he’d suspected what Kate and Jamie had, that Posey was lying.
Kate prodded. “Did that upset you? Sierra contacting Posey that way?”
“She chose Posey.” He looked away. “Posey was healed. I haven’t been. Excuse me. I still have to work on myself.”
With grim dignity, he rose and began to spin slowly, hesitating after every few turns. Kate and Lobo moved out of his way. Afraid he could fall, she watched him, though there was little she could do to catch him if he did.
Leon had sounded aggrieved that Posey was healed. Posey, who had never been sick. She’d been stuck in a sick role, and was stuck in an outmoded feminine role as well, along with a saccharine pseudo-spirituality. She could probably be persuaded to do anything. To believe she was healed, or play the role of being healed, and now, conduct a soul group gathering.
To Kate’s relief, Leon didn’t spin as long as Sierra had the previous days, and he descended to his mat to begin the repetitions of the more yoga-like moves. Her phone buzzed and she checked the screen. The text message came from an unfamiliar number with a 505 area code. Northern New Mexico.
Did you bring your Tarot cards with you? I need a fortune told.
Strange. What person with a 505 number knew she was in T or C but wasn’t in the room to talk to her? Sierra? It had to be. Posey could have given her Kate’s number.
Kate replied, Yes. Why did Sierra want to know her future?
Meet me at Passion Pie Café ASAP. Don’t tell anyone. Come alone.
What a line. Sierra must have seen a few too many movies. Did she really think Kate wouldn’t tell anyone? On her way out, she showed the message to Bernadette and then to Jamie. He told her where the coffee shop was, just a few blocks up Main Street, and that the barista was his friend, Misty Chino. “Her boyfriend brought Ezra here. She’s one of the skateboarders who saw Magda fall. She called 911. They’re both fans of Magda’s books. If you need anything, Misty can help.”
Kate couldn’t imagine why she would need a backup person, but she thanked Jamie for the information and left.
Upon entering the busy café, Kate spotted Sierra hunched over her phone at a small square table near the counter. The table itself drew Kate’s attention. Its surface was a black, white, and gray abstract design that reminded her of a Navajo rug. Many of the tabletops were works of art, and paintings for sale hung on the wall. An old blues song played through speakers at just the right volume to set a mood. As Kate approached, a middle-aged woman wearing a suit, a misfit in the casually dressed crowd, was just rising from Sierra’s table. The woman leaned down and said something Kate didn’t make out. Sierra frowned and nodded, and her companion wove between the tables to exit.
An athletically built young woman, presumably Jamie’s friend Misty, removed a chair from Sierra’s table as Kate pulled up. Sierra resumed tapping steadily on her phone. A half-finished breakfast of waffles and bacon sat by her elbow. Kate wished she hadn’t eaten the healthy food already.
“I usually take orders and money at the counter,” said Misty, “but since I’m here, what can I get you?”
Kate ordered chai tea and gave her cash. The barista departed and Sierra, still doing something on her phone, asked, “How did the morning sessions go?”
“Really well.” Kate couldn’t resist needling her. “Probably the best day yet. Yeshi did a great lecture. I learned a lot. I guess he didn’t need you this morning. Gave you the day off.”
“I do what I want. I’m volunteering. I don’t work for Yeshi.”
Interesting. “Leon missed you. He wanted you to lead the Tibetan yoga. I got the feeling he was kind of annoyed that he had to do it on his own.”
“Well, at least he’s committed. Not fighting the work. Have you been visualizing the yoga?”
Kate had forgotten she’d said she would do that. Lies were hard to keep track of, so she made her answer as honest as possible. “It felt like a waste of time.”
“You’re afraid of moving forward.” Sierra shook her head, regarding Kate sadly. “You’re so invested in your self-stories, I doubt you’ll ever get anywhere with self-healing.”
“But Leon will?”
“He may have to move into a parallel life to do it, but yes.”
“A what?”
“A parallel life. We can share souls and lives without being full co-souls. Didn’t you listen to what I said about the bodhisattva? What Yeshi said about the Medicine Buddha?”
“I didn’t get that out of it at all. I thought that was about healing and compassion.”
“And about the nature of reality. You’re not really a spiritual person, are you?”
“Maybe not by your standards. But apparently Posey thought I was a competent fortune teller, since you called me.”
“Yes.” Sierra tapped on her phone, frowning. “I need an ... indicator. How something will go. A Tarot reading would do that, right?”
“It can. Do you want your palm read, also? I’d charge only two thirds of my usual fee since I don’t have the ball.”
“No, I don’t want my palm read. This isn’t about me.” Sierra resumed eating, finally putting her phone down. Its screen showed she’d been using its calculator function. She glared at Kate. “And I’m not paying you. This is part of your karmic healing, your work in my support group. We help each other out. I didn’t charge you for that, did I?”
Kate tried to read the screen upside-down. It showed some large numbers. In the thousands. “Yeshi is charging for this retreat.”
“Well, that’s Yeshi. It’s not me.” Sierra, observant for a change, turned her phone over and took another bite of bacon. The sleeve of her sweater had bits of dried vegetation stuck to it, as if she’d been through some weeds or bushes. In Ezra’s dream, she had been outdoors at her old home and yet in Magda’s room at the same time. “You’re going to help me because I can help you.”
“With my dolphin karma?”
“Don’t mock it. I know what I see in you, and it’s dragging your body down with your soul.”
It took all of Kate’s self-control not to lose her temper. She knew she didn’t sound convinced, gritting out a stiff “Okay,” but as far as she could tell, it didn’t require much acting skill to flatter Sierra’s ego. “Maybe you can help me. So, I’ll help you.” She put her Tarot deck in front of Sierra, telling her to cut and shuffle it. “Posey should have let you know I can’t tell you someone else’s future. What kind of question is this, since it’s not about you?”
Sierra fumbled the shuffling. “I can’t tell you. I just need a sign.”
With such a vague question, Kate saw no point in giving Sierra a full reading, especially for free. “For that, just pull a card.”
Sierra scrunched her face up like a child making a birthday wish, drew a card, and handed it to Kate.
Holy shit. The three of swords, the one Posey had drawn for her past, was the sign for Sierra’s future. Kate laid it on the table. “You should look at this.”
Sierra studied the heart pierced with three swords. Her eyes narrowed as she sucked in her breath.
Kate was intrigued. She hadn’t even explained it yet. “Do you know the Tarot?”
“I don’t need to.” Sierra shoveled a final bite of waffle into her mouth, stuffed her phone into her purse, and took it with her to the counter. Misty was busy with a customer, and Sierra began talking to the next person in line. Then she hurried to the restroom, pulling her phone back out again. Sending Posey another psychic message?
Misty delivered Kate’s tea, and Kate asked her if she’d heard what Sierra had been talking about.
“She asked for directions to the hospital.” Misty looked down at the card. “Whoa. That looks bad.”
“Sierra drew that card for some sort of indicator. And then she got up and asked for directions.”
“Maybe she thought the card was about a heart attack or heart surgery. Like, it could be about Magda Stein.”
As familiar as Kate
was with the cards’ deeper meanings, she had overlooked the obvious. “I should have thought of that. Sierra does take symbols literally.” Kate tried to connect Sierra’s reaction to the card with the secret question for which she had sought an answer. Did it relate to crunching big numbers and meeting with a woman in a suit? “Do you know the woman who was with her when I came in?”
“Not really. She’s a realtor. Suzie somebody.”
Half-formed ideas collided in Kate’s mind. Ezra’s dream. Mae’s vision. The retreat center. Money. Magda. Something was about to happen.
Sierra returned to the table, snatched the three of swords, and hastened out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A mule deer napping in the shade of a twisted juniper scrambled to its feet as Mae and Marty rounded a bend in the trail. The deer leaped across the sand and vanished into the desert. Neither of the runners spoke for a few awed breaths. Mae finally let out a soft, “Wow.”
“I think that’s the first word you’ve said after ‘good morning.’ ” Marty took a gulp from a compact sports water bottle. “What’s bugging you?”
Mae knew she should confide in her father. Though she had previously told him about her big fight with Jamie and that she’d turned down his proposal, she hadn’t shared the most recent events. Wanting to escape her worries while running, not talk about them, she fudged an answer. “Everything.”
“Come on, baby. What’s everything?”
“Jamie. Hubert.”
“Jamie and Hubert in the same breath? That doesn’t sound good.”
They rounded another bend, startling a jackrabbit out of the shade of a sprawling cactus, and began a steeper uphill climb. Mae waited to answer until the ground leveled off. “I’m pretty sure Hubert and Jen aren’t going to last, and he dropped a hint that him and me could try again.”
“Already? That’s his pain talking. He can’t possibly know what he wants yet.”
“No, he can’t. But it would be better for the young’uns if we were closer. I mean, geographically. So we could work together more as parents. I was thinking I might move back East after I graduate. Maybe I should even finish school there.”
