Death Omen

by Amber Foxx

  “Hold on. Did Hubert ask you to do that?”

  “No. I started thinking about it back in August when the girls visited. But now I’m scared Jamie might be really sick. Have you seen him?”

  “No. We invited him for dinner tonight, but he didn’t get back to us.”

  “I don’t suppose he’d know what to say. He keeps trying to act well, but he hardly eats, and you know that’s not normal for Jamie. And Sierra, that woman from the workshop I told you about, she keeps saying that he’s got something serious and that he could die. He says it’s cat scratch disease, but she said he had cancer.”

  Marty gave her a worried look. “Can she know things like that?”

  “I don’t think so. But maybe. I’d be able to tell, but I can’t invade him like that.” The trail took a downhill turn, and they sped up, disturbing a quail that scurried peeping across their path. Mae pictured Jamie with his soundless walk, gliding through the desert without frightening a single creature. Even this random thought was painful. He had to be all right. “Sierra doesn’t respect his feelings, his privacy, anything. She tells him she sees his past lives and how sick he is without asking if he wants to know.”

  “Jamie gets so anxious. She’s got to be scaring him.”

  “She is.” Mae thought of his panic attack in the grocery store. “But he wants to fight back. I told him to rest, but I kinda have to admire the way he’s pushing through this.”

  “You were furious with him for ‘pushing through’ while he had Brook and Stream with him.”

  “I know. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough, so he tries to prove he is in all the wrong ways.”

  Something in the quality of her father’s silence told Mae he understood.

  As they approached the end of the trail, the lake came into view, blue-green and dotted with boats. Marty asked, “If he really does have cancer, how would you feel about moving back East?”

  “Before we fought, I was thinking of asking him to move with me. I can’t see that now. But I can’t see leaving him, either, not if he’s that sick. It would be cruel.”

  “I wondered if you’d say that. His fiancée Lisa stuck with him when he broke his hip, and all that did was postpone the end. And what did he do after that accident last winter?”

  “He asked me to give him time to get well. But he was depressed, and we weren’t really in a relationship yet.”

  “And is he depressed now?”

  “No. He’s ... well, for Jamie, he’s doing okay.”

  “And he has friends and family and a therapist. It might be hard for you to leave him, and God knows it’d be hard on me and Niall if you moved away, but if it’d be better for the children, maybe you should think about it. If you’re sure you and Jamie aren’t right for each other.”

  “I’m not sure. Not at all.” They slowed their pace to a walk on their way to the lot where Marty’s truck was parked. “Maybe I’ll get some clarity while we finish this business with Sierra.”

  After breakfast with Niall and Marty and the twins, Mae left the girls helping Niall rummage through his junk metal collection for the perfect parts for a triceratops sculpture and returned to her house to attempt another psychic journey. She hoped that working with Sierra’s and Posey’s belongings would give her more insight this time.

  It didn’t, though. Her vision took her to the support group meeting. Posey was sitting on the floor in the center of a tight circle at the feet of the other members, crying as she sorted through her garbage. The ceremony had sounded silly when Kate had first mentioned it, but it wasn’t. It was degrading. Appalled, Mae was unable to hold her trance, and before she could make another effort, Derek called to let her know that she had a healing client booked at the Charles.

  As Mae walked to the spa, she called Jamie. No answer. The morning sessions might still be wrapping up. She left a message, asking him to get Magda’s letter, if Ezra had brought it, or something from Yeshi if possible. Approaching the question through one of them might be a better route to learning about donations and plans for the retreat center.

  Mae’s walk took her past the motel-like apartments where Misty lived. Refugio’s unmistakable art-embellished truck was outside. If Jamie forgot to check his messages, maybe Refugio could remind Ezra about the letter. Mae didn’t know his number, so she left a note behind the screen door, not wanting to disturb him after his late night with Misty. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jamie, but he was easily distracted at the best of times and might be even more forgetful now, when he was sick and stressed. Perhaps very sick.

  Crossing from Clancy to the north side of Broadway, she caught herself praying, though she wasn’t religious and wasn’t sure to whom she was praying. Please, don’t let it be cancer. No matter how many times she rejected the possibility, it kept coming back.

  When Mae entered The Charles, Derek was at the front desk, training a new employee. He explained to the girl who Mae was and how to check in her client. Mae asked if it was one of her regulars.

  “No,” Derek said. “It’s no one I know. Not one of our guests, either. She might be staying at one of the other spas. Or maybe you know her. Sierra Mu.”

  *****

  Escaping the breakfast crowd, Jamie slipped back to his room and turned on his laptop to Skype his parrots. Gasser was sleeping in the bathroom under the sink, so Jamie closed him in and left his front door open, letting in the fresh air. He sat at the table with the sun bathing him and hoped his bird-sitter remembered the date. Or that he had it right. To his relief, Letitia was ready with his birds on a perch facing the camera and her pair of rose cockatoos on her shoulders. After greeting Jamie, she stepped away and let him talk to Bouquet and Placido.

  “Miss ya,” he said. “Won’t be long. Tomorrow night.”

  Bouquet focused one huge, yellow-rimmed eye on him. “Fuck me dead.”

  Jamie laughed, and tears swelled under his laughter. “Yeah. Fuck me dead. After all this time, we’ll be together. Me and my animals.” And that would be his family. Not Mae and her children. Jamie and his pets. “Letitia been taking you flying a lot?”

  Stretching his wings, Placido said, “Fly.”

  “New word, mate. Good job. Looks like you’ve got all your flight feathers now.”

  Somehow this made Jamie think of himself going bald. Jeezus. With all he had to face, he was glad he had the birds to look forward to. Without them, he would dread going home. It now struck him as ludicrous that his desire to learn medical intuition for giving his pets checkups had led him to get entangled with Sierra. Would William have shown up if he hadn’t, though?

  “Love you.” Placido’s small sweet voice brought Jamie’s attention back.

  “Love ya, too, mate. Want me to sing to you? Will you dance for me?”

  Jamie began the first song that came to mind, his new lyrics for his nonsense song, the ones that mocked Sierra. The parrots, fond of music, bobbed their heads and bounced to the beat, and Placido did little side steps.

  I logged into my past life to see what I could see

  And wooden ya know it, I used to be a tree.

  I put down roots but I still branched out.

  Birds sat on me and they’d sing and shout.

  A large shadow blocked much of the sun and Rex’s resonant baritone chimed in:

  Then I got cut down but I came right back

  To work out my karma with the lumberjack

  Delighted, Jamie kept singing, drumming on the table, and Rex shuffle-danced in, humming along while Jamie played with the refrain.

  Nk a dada mp a wada hey ya ho

  Samsara, Samskara, round we go,

  Mp a walla thmp a lalla way-a-hey

  Aahh! Make that face.

  Rex executed a turn, made a face that Jamie took to be an imitation of a parrot’s beak, flapped his arms, and plopped onto the couch. A kindred spirit. The shared silliness was healing.

  Jamie spoke to his birds. “Hate to hang up so soon, but I’ve got company. Tomo
rrow night, though. See you in person. Catcha.” He signed off with Letitia and looked at Rex. “Guess that was weird.”

  “The song or the parrots?”

  “Dunno. They like the song.” So did Mae’s children. A stab of loss hit Jamie, but then he told himself he and Mae hadn’t really broken up. They might yet work things out. “Funny that you know it, though.”

  “I’m a musical omnivore.” Rex made a grand, circular gesture. “I have diverse, even cosmopolitan, tastes. And of course I looked you up when Posey got me into this retreat and she said there was going to be music. It’s certainly turned out to be the best part. To think I expected she would be. And having my Akashic records read, and being healed together.” He shook his head. “The funny thing is, I actually felt a little something when we did that healing circle. Not my fictitious lung cancer being healed. But something. Like my disappointment over Posey being healed. I hurt less.”

  “Mmm. I might have done something.”

  “You’re a healer?” Rex cocked his head in a way that reminded Jamie of Placido. Got parrots on the brain.

  “Not exactly. I work with animals. Volunteer at the shelter.” And get cat scratch fever. If Jamie volunteered at the parrot rescue place, he would probably get bird flu. “Not really into working with people, but I can if I have to.”

  “Does Sierra know that?”

  “Reckon. People had kind of intense interactions with me at the workshop where we met.”

  “I wondered why she had us face the other way in the circle. I get it now. She wanted me to get a genuine healing of some sort, so I’d think I’d been cured of what I never had and give her credit at my next checkup. When, of course, I would find I didn’t have it.”

  “Jeezus. Y’think she plans that well? Did you talk to her? Y’know, about giving her money?”

  “She’s still not here.” Rex crossed his legs. “That’s what I stopped by to tell you. I talked to Yeshi instead. And Daphne and Chuck are talking with him now. We all had the same idea. If it’s their scam together, he’ll do, right?”

  Jamie realized he’d stopped thinking of Yeshi as part of a scam after their last encounter. But that was a gut feeling. It could be wrong. “What’d you find out?”

  “Something strange.” Rex tapped a finger against his jaw, frowning. “I told him I wanted to become a donor for his retreat center, and he said, ‘Do you mean an investor?’ I thought we were having a language problem, so I said it again, and he said that he was starting a business, not a nonprofit, and he wanted investors. So I told him I’d been inspired to give because Sierra healed me. You should have heard him. I’m at least ten years older than him, and he sat me down like I was a child and explained that healing takes much longer than that. He said Sierra ‘should not do diagnosis’ without him present.”

  “Sounds like the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing.”

  “Or he was lying. He might have been, if he could tell I was lying.”

  “Nah. Too complicated.”

  “Not for a used car salesman.”

  “What? I thought you were an honest one.”

  “As honest as they come. We need to get going for our soul group gathering.”

  “With Posey in charge.” Jamie turned off his laptop with a sinking feeling. “Is she excited about being Little Sierra?”

  “Insecure is more like it. I had to pull her off me like a leech to come here.”

  “Y’think she’s actually fond of you? Or just doing it for Sierra to get you in the group?”

  “I hope it’s the latter. Because I’m already back on Spiritual Singles, looking more carefully this time.”

  Jamie and Rex walked to the Loft. Jamie tried to open the door, but it was locked.

  “Our lucky day?” Rex asked.

  “Nah, there’s people in there. Think they just forgot and locked—” Then he realized whose voices he was hearing. Jamie stepped away from the door. “Yeshi’s with the Bradys still. Maybe Posey freaked out and isn’t running the group after all.”

  “I wish. But Posey? Disobeying Sierra?”

  A door opened across the courtyard and Posey peeped out. “Here we are, Rexie.”

  Rex groaned. “Call me Sal. Salvatore. Mr. Rexrode. But please, not Rexie.”

  Jamie snort-laughed and punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Why not, mate? It’s cute. Like Jamie.”

  Tittering, Posey beckoned. Rex grimaced and braced himself, and he and Jamie crossed the courtyard to Posey’s open door. Their arrival startled a sunbathing whiptail and it shot between Jamie’s feet.

  “Bloody hell. Ya see that?”

  Posey shivered. “Ooh. Lizards give me the creepy-weepies. Where did it go?”

  It had scurried down the sidewalk, but a reek of stale floral perfume emanating from Posey’s room moved Jamie to lie, so he wouldn’t have to go in and breathe it. “Into your room.”

  She sprang out over the threshold. “Oh no. Rexie-sweetie-pie, can you catch it? I’m scared it’ll run up my leg.”

  “Or get in your bed,” Jamie added, remembering what he’d dreaded about his late unfortunate gecko.

  “It won’t hurt you,” Rex grumbled. “Just name it Lizzie and keep it for a pet.”

  Jamie laughed out loud, but Posey whined. He cut her off. “Have the meeting out here. Nice day, y’know? Fresh air. And no lizard.”

  Inside, Leon, apparently oblivious to the perfume, was slumped on a red couch like the one in Jamie’s suite. “I’d catch it for you,” he said, “but I’m ... I’m not doing well with my ... my ...” He looked down at his hands. His fingers and thumbs were moving as if rolling a pellet around, over and over. “Why did Magda have to fail us? This could all be different.”

  Jeezus. Leon believed he would have been healed. Pitiful. But Jamie could have been sucked that deeply into the mire, too. If he hadn’t had a spirit guide. If he hadn’t known Mu was false. Sierra had seen how sick he was before anyone else could, and fear of death did funny things to your head. Made reincarnation look good. Immortality in the face of mortality. Don and Dr. Farrow had given Jamie his odds, though no promises, and even with such good odds, the long and difficult treatment ahead was unnerving. The side effects scared him as much as the disease. For people with no cure in sight, only a lifetime of medication and deterioration, Sierra’s bait could be irresistible.

  Jamie watched Leon’s hands. They were still repeating the rolling motion and a tremor pulsed through his arms. Not doing well with what? Self-healing? “Leon. You didn’t go off your meds, did you?”

  “You did. Sierra told us about you. You made a big speech about it at a concert.”

  “Yeah. Before I ever heard of her. And I’m not cured. Have to work my arse off for the rest of my life to keep my head on straight. And I’m sick right now and I’m taking medicine.”

  “Stop arguing, please,” Posey begged, “and somebody catch that lizard. I don’t want it in my drawers. And what if Magda gets back and finds it in her bed?”

  “You’ve heard from Magda?” Leon lifted his head. “Is she coming back?”

  Glancing around, Posey hurried her words out in her breathy little-girl voice. “If we want her to, we have to send healing.” She batted her eyelashes as she looked up into Rex’s face. “Can you catch the lizard for me?”

  He sighed. “Posey, I really don’t think it can hurt you. Let’s just have the meeting outdoors.”

  “Yeah, do that. Start without me.” Jamie had forgotten about Mae’s message until now. He took a breath of fresh air and forced himself into the suite. “I get it, being scared of stuff. I’ll find the lizard.”

  Or something for Mae to use as a psychic.

  The others left. It was easy for him to see which side of the bedroom was Magda’s, since housekeeping hadn’t come yet. Posey’s bed was unmade and her makeup cluttered the dresser. All Jamie had to do was steal something small. He opened Magda’s top drawer. Empty. Another. Empty. Fuck. He looked for a suitcase. The
re was none on her side of the room or under her bed. What had happened to her things? Who had packed for her? Did Posey know? Was she pretending she expected Magda to come back?

  Nauseated by the perfume, Jamie made a quick examination of the kitchenette. There were no personal belongings lying around. In the bathroom, he found only one set of grooming items. Posey had to know someone had cleared out Magda’s stuff.

  He left the suite and joined the others in the center of the courtyard. They sat facing in toward the big rock, Rex and Posey on one bench, Leon on the next. Jamie took the spot beside him. “Chased it out the window. All clear.”

  Posey beamed at him. “Thank you. Every little kindness eases your karmic load, doesn’t it?”

  “Reckon. What did I miss?”

  Leon sighed. “We’re supposed to raise our energy and direct it to Magda.”

  “That it? No ceremony? Just do your best?”

  Posey squirmed. “We have to do it all at the same time, while Sierra is with Magda in person. As soon as she signals me.”

  “So that’s where she is. She take Magda’s clothes to her? Funny thing to do if she’s coming back here from the hospital. She doesn’t need all her outfits for that.”

  Posey turned pink and scooted closer to Rex. “Rexie, sweetie-pie, can you help me get the group ready? You have so much more authority than I do.”

  “Wait,” Leon cut in. “Magda’s clothes are gone? She’s not coming back? Why didn’t you tell us this? Is she dying? Going back to Santa Fe? What do you know?”

  “Her daughter came and packed for her,” Posey squeaked. “She wouldn’t tell me anything. She was awful, as if I’d done something terrible to Magda.”

  Posey’s phone emitted a chime-like sound.

  “Fuck me dead. Think I’m psychic,” Jamie exclaimed. “Sierra’s sending Posey a message.”

  Posey began to cry. Leon clenched and unclenched his fists. Jamie had the feeling the older man wanted to smack Posey. She clung to Rex. “We have to do what Sierra asked us to.”