Becoming Indigo

by Tara Taylor

  “What happened to you came from a dark place, Indie.”

  “It’s over now.” I shrugged as if I didn’t care.

  “It’s not over. It never will be, because it’s part of you.”

  “I wish it would go away.”

  “Indie, you have to be careful, because right now you are like an open vessel for spirits. This darkness that surrounds you is like glue for dark beings who don’t want to leave the earth. Are you protecting yourself?”

  “Sometimes,” I answered. Again, she always knew. I hadn’t protected myself when I read for Lacey, the one and only time I had even looked at my cards in the past month.

  “By the way, what happened with the ghost? I know you protected your apartment a while ago, and she left, but sometimes they can return.”

  I shrugged. “She’s gone.”

  “Did you see her walk through the light?”

  “Not exactly. She left through a window.”

  Annabelle scrunched up her face. “Okay, sweetie. I know you did what I told you, and that’s great, but she could still be around, living somewhere else.”

  “I think she’s gone,” I said. “It’s been ages since any of us have seen her.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Okay. Now … one more thing. I hate to be a nag tonight, but there is a dark side to the cards, too, Indie. I worry about you. It is what we call the occult, and if you use and abuse the cards, you can open yourself to all sorts of bad things. The same goes with stuff like the Ouija board.” She wagged her finger at me. “Am I getting through?”

  “Yes.” Why was she talking about Ouija boards? The woman wasn’t making sense.

  “All right, beautiful,” she said. “I’ve given you enough to chew on for one day.”

  She was only trying to help me. I knew that. I looked at her and smiled. “Thanks,” I said.

  “I’m here for you,” she said.

  Suddenly, my vision blurred.

  I saw white, and I was sliding down my long tunnel. In my telescopic lens, I saw an aqua river with a streak of red blood flowing through it. I had seen this before. But this time the blood stopped and pooled, and it thumped and bubbled, but not in any kind of rhythm.

  Sadness flowed through me, and I had to lower my head.

  “It will all be okay,” said Annabelle.

  “Will it?” I lifted my head to stare into her eyes.

  “Yes.” She smiled broadly, a fake smile I could tell, but a smile, and it didn’t look good at all. Her teeth had a funny color to them.

  I held up the brown book. “Thanks for this,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.” Then she winked at me. “Promise me you’ll use it.”

  “Sure. Okay. I’ll try.” I said, wanting to lighten the mood. I glanced at the clock. “You have a client in thirty minutes.”

  “I’d better get prepared.” She gave me an impish grin. “I need to protect myself first.”

  “You do that,” I said.

  As she was leaving the room, she turned to me and said, “I keep hearing the word Paul. I know I’ve told you this before, but it keeps coming back.”

  “Stop matchmaking.”

  “I’m not.” She waved her hands, and I smiled, happy to see her animated again. “It might not even have to do with Paul. Your friend.”

  “Thirty minutes.” I tapped the book.

  “I’m going.” She walked to the back, to her pink room.

  The day cruised by, and as hard as it was to admit, I liked my job and I liked the store. I almost felt more at home in the store than I did anywhere in my life. Annabelle knocked off early, at two, and I was left alone for the last two hours. I cleaned and tidied and talked to customers.

  At exactly 4 P.M., the door chimed, and in walked Paul, which surprised me. I hadn’t seen him in a week or so. I immediately smiled. The guy did have a way of lighting up a room and making me sing a little happy song inside.

  “You need a ride?” he asked.

  “I thought you had school.” He had started at Carleton, so we didn’t see each other as much. His daily trips to the store had dwindled. Because of being in school full-time, he’d had to quit his sandwich job.

  “I’m pulling a few short day shifts at Starbucks. I worked three hours this afternoon. I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I might as well drive you home. Timing was perfect. I got off just before four.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Just let me lock up.”

  The brilliant sun shone in a beautiful azure sky, and although the air was warm, there was this hint of crispness to it. Time was moving forward, and the seasons were changing. Ottawa had four distinct seasons, and I loved the fall because every day was different. Summer fun was now over, and it was time to do something.

  We strolled slowly to his car, chatting about his classes. I got into his car and immediately rolled down the window; he threw on some tunes. We pulled away from the curb, and comfort set in. We didn’t have to talk. The music was enough.

  When he pulled up in front of my apartment, around 15 minutes later, I gasped.

  A FOR SALE sign hung in the window of George’s antique store.

  “George is selling already?” I asked out loud.

  “That’s the antique’s guy, right? Your friend.”

  I turned to Paul. “Yeah. He’s a great guy. I got to go. Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem. See yah,” he said.

  I hopped out of the car and ran toward the store. The door tinkled when I bounded in. George was behind the counter, shining jewelry.

  “George, I saw the sign on the door.” I walked toward the counter.

  “Indie.” He put down the necklace and wiped his hands on his apron. He always wore the same checked apron when he cleaned.

  “This is so sudden,” I said. “When you said Claire wanted you to retire, I didn’t think you meant this winter.”

  “Ahh, Indie. It’s time.”

  “I’m going to miss you,” I said.

  “You’re one sweet girl.”

  “You love this so much,” I said. “Won’t you miss it?”

  “Of course I’ll miss it and your smile, of course. But I’m having some health issues.” He laughed. “Claire thinks I’m getting dementia. Every time I try to find something, I discover it somewhere else. She thinks I’m losing my memory, and she wants me to sell before it’s too late and she has to do all the work. We might get a place in Florida for the winter.”

  “What do you mean, things have been moved?”

  “I just forget where I put things. I think they’re one place and then I find them somewhere else.”

  “We all do that when we’re busy,” I said.

  He laughed and winked at me. “I’ve saved something for you.”

  “What?”

  He pulled out an exact replica of the ring that he had cut off my finger. “I looked high and low for this and finally I found it. I wanted you to have another one. I know it’s not the one your mother gave you, but since it is a family thing, I still think it will be something you can cherish.” He winked at me. “Plus, I think it means something that you believe in. Afterlife.”

  Little did George know, I wasn’t sure what I believed in anymore. But I wouldn’t tell him that, not after he had given me such a nice gift.

  “Thank you,” I exclaimed. I took the ring and slipped it on my finger. “Perfect fit. Thank you again, George.”

  We chatted for a few more minutes before I decided to browse around the room, knowing soon I wouldn’t have this opportunity. I leafed through old books and magazines and carefully, almost reverently, touched old lamps and furniture.

  When I spotted a brown box that looked like a game of some sort, shoved to the back of a shelf, I pulled it out. Although the black scrolling letters were a bit smeared because of age, I could still read Ouija Board on the front of the box.

  I gasped out loud. And stared at it. Annabelle.

  “That it is one of the first editions of the Ouija boards,”
said George from across the room.

  I turned to him. “What do you know about it?”

  “Well, it was a game that was created in the 1800s and has an incredible history.”

  “Tell me,” I urged.

  “In the late 1800s, people were crazy about séances and trying to contact the dead through spirit mediums. They loved automatic writing and sitting around a table calling out to the dead, and they thought if the chair tipped or the table rocked, some spirit was in the room.” He motioned for me to bring the game over.

  Once it was on the counter, he opened up the box and pulled out the wooden board. “But then someone had the great idea to create a board game. A businessman named William Fuld bought a company called Kennard Novelty Company in a business takeover, and they had created the final form of the board. So it wasn’t really created by Fuld, but like a lot of businessmen, he took the darn credit. Anyway, he took over and renamed the company Ouija Novelty Company, and he promoted the game like crazy. Everyone thinks he was the founder, but he wasn’t really.”

  I waited, hoping to hear more.

  He touched the board. “He died young after falling off his factory roof. His family sold it to Parker Brothers.”

  “I didn’t realize the game had been around for that long,” I said.

  “It had many names, like the talking board or the witch board.” He shrugged. “Many believe that it’s dangerous because it can allow spirits in.”

  I gingerly touched the wood, intrigued that the Ouija board had been around for so many years. A hundred. Wow. My fingertips burned as I traced the scrolled alphabet and the words no and yes that were in the top corners. Twice in one day, I’d heard about this type of board.

  Synchronicity.

  It had to be.

  “How much is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t think you should buy this. Save your money.” George picked up the lid to put it back on the box.

  And I reached out and put my hand on top of his. I wanted to know more about this board that had come up twice in one day. “Please,” I said. “I bet it’s harmless. I think it would be fun for me and my roommates.”

  “Okay. But I don’t want any money for it.” He rubbed his chin. “It’s all a bit strange how I found it, though.” He furrowed his eyebrows, looking perplexed. “It was in the bottom of a dresser. In a drawer. I swear I had gone through the dresser when I bought it. I had to fix the hardware on the bottom drawer, and when I pulled it out, I found the board.” He laughed. “That’s why my wife thinks we need to get a condo in Florida.”

  “Ahh.” I winked at him. “I bet she just wants to spend more time with you in a nice sunny place.”

  He grinned. “You sure know how to make an old man feel good. Before you go, I have to tell you how to play the game.”

  I had to hide my smile. Of course he would have to explain it to me. He pulled out the little block that went with the game. “It’s really quite simple. This here is called a planchette. And you ask a question and move it around until it hits either yes or no or hits a letter. If it goes to a letter, you keep going until you spell something. I think it’s all staged. Kind of like magicians.”

  He put the game back in the box, handed it to me, and reluctantly sighed. “It’s yours. I never could say no to a pretty young thing like you.”

  I put the box under my arm and expressed my thanks again.

  You’re not listening. Isaiah spoke to me as I left the store.

  “So?” I said under my breath. “It was a gift. Am I not supposed to take a gift from a friend? Anyway, you didn’t listen to me, so why should I listen to anyone? And you’re the one always telling me about synchronicity. Isn’t that what this is?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Look at those guys standing by the bar,” Sarah whispered in my ear. “I bet they’d buy us a beer.”

  “Sarah, no,” I pleaded. Natalie was working, so I didn’t have her to back me up.

  “Come on, please, Indie. I need to do something to forget about jerk-face.” She swigged back the rest of her beer, then held up her glass. Last week, Sarah walked in on Tyler in bed with his old girlfriend.

  “I bet you could work some of your magic,” Sarah continued, scrunching up her face. “Pleeeease. I’m so low on cash because I’m saving so hard for school next fall.”

  Don’t give in. Isaiah spoke to me. I wished he’d leave me alone. I had been ignoring him lately, because he was always trying to ruin my fun.

  This isn’t the way to use your abilities.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” I said. I needed to help Sarah get through this. Tyler was still living in our building, and she kept running into him. It made her crazy.

  I took a deep breath, exhaled, and did that three times as I stared at the guys. Annabelle had taught me that breathing was so important to my visions. And three times in and out was the magic number. I was to inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. Breath was life. And perhaps tonight it was free drinks.

  After getting a good look at the guys, I closed my eyes.

  Blond. I heard the word loud and clear.

  I leaned in to Sarah and whispered, “The guy with the blond hair is the one we hit.”

  “Yes-s-s,” said Sarah. “I knew you could do this. Come on. Let’s make our way over there.”

  After ten minutes, Sarah and I each had another beer in our hands, compliments of Stephen, the blond guy. In total, we were surrounded by four guys, who were sort of fun. Sarah flung her head back and laughed loudly at some dumb joke, and I laughed, too, although I didn’t think the joke was all that funny.

  As we were hanging out, talking about nothing, I kept scanning the bar, in the hopes of not seeing Paul here. What would he think if he saw me purposely trying to get guys to buy us beer?

  Paul liked me. I knew he did. But I just hadn’t been able to get close to him. Not after what had happened at the river party. I shivered, thinking of that awful night. Would the horribleness of it ever go away?

  Two more beers later, with a numbness that felt good, I realized that it was already midnight. “I got to go,” I said to Sarah. “I have to work in the morning.”

  “Me too,” she replied.

  “We’re going to go for pizza,” said Stephen. “You girls want to come?” He nudged Sarah with his shoulder. “My treat.”

  “Sure,” said Sarah before I could say no.

  “You look tired,” said Annabelle the next morning. She eyed me. “Late night?”

  “Not too bad.” I went behind the counter and opened up the schedule book. Sarah and I had gone to bed at four. We had gotten home at three and played around with the Ouija board for an hour. It kept spelling out the name Stephen, which made us laugh hysterically and convinced me that it really was just a fun party game, nothing more to it. Natalie had joined us as well when she had come in from a night out with friends. We’d had so much fun we were all keen to play with it again another night. After dark. With candles.

  So I’d only had a couple of hours of sleep.

  “You only have two clients today,” I said ignoring her stares.

  “I have an appointment,” she said.

  Annabelle suddenly grabbed the counter with one hand and pressed the other hand to her chest. Her face drained of color.

  “What’s wrong?” I came up behind her and put my arm around her to help hold her up.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’m just having the odd dizzy spell. Too much caffeine perhaps. My periods have been heavy lately, too.”

  “Maybe you should go to a doctor.”

  She blew out a rush of air, steadied herself, and pointed to the back door. “I’m okay. I’m going to my room to get ready.”

  I watched her walk away and noticed her sagging shoulders and heavy footsteps.

  Annabelle finished her two sessions and left, and I was alone in the store. I tried to stay awake by cleaning and straightening. The minutes ticked by at a snail’s pace, and every time I glan
ced at the clock, it didn’t seem to have progressed more than five minutes. In the afternoon, the odd person came in, which made the time go by a little faster. Still, it was the slowest day I’d ever worked.

  Finally, it was five to four. I started tidying up when the door tinkled, and I knew before looking up who it was.

  “Hi, Paul,” I said.

  “I was in the neighborhood to pick up my check from Starbucks. I got some cash. You want to go to a movie tonight?”

  “Sure!” The thought of sitting in a movie theater sounded great. I needed an early night with no alcohol. Five nights in a row had worn me down. “You don’t have homework tonight?”

  “I did it all. And”—he gave me a sheepish shrug—“this movie is for film class. I have to write a report on it.”

  “And you don’t want to go alone.”

  “Going with you will make it feel a lot less like school and a lot more like something fun to do.”

  I smiled. “Let me lock up.”

  “You want to get something to eat before the movie?”

  “Only if you let me buy dinner.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go to Starbucks for free coffee and muffins.”

  I shook my finger at him. “No way. You’re not getting out of this. I’m a working girl, and you’re a student.”

  “Yeah, but I’m taking you to the movie for a school project. You are helping me get an A.”

  “Stop arguing with me.” I made a playful face.

  It was such a beautiful autumn day, the breeze warm and the air crystal clear, that we decided to pick up a cheap takeout pizza and go to the park, knowing that soon it would be winter and the snow would fall. This might be our last chance to sit outside and eat. With soda and pizza, we sat on one of the picnic tables, just under a tree. The leaves above graced us with their magnificent shades of orange and red and yellow.

  “The park is always so quiet in the fall.” I stared out at the trees. “I like this time of year.”

  Paul yanked open the box and dove into the pizza, handing me the first piece. “Me too. It always has that feeling of new beginnings. I guess it’s because school always starts in the fall. It was always a new grade and a new teacher, and there were new kids to sit beside. That part scared the heck out of me.”