“What are we doing up here?” While he looked around, she placed a brick in the doorway to keep it from closing.
Instead of answering his question, she went over to the corner of the roof and brought out the blanket that she kept there. She spread it out, sat down, and invited him to join her. He took a seat beside her. He moved gracefully—almost catlike. She could imagine him practicing martial arts. He smirked and accepted her scrutiny.
“Where are you from?” she asked him, attempting to cover up her appraisal.
“Well, I was raised in Queens,” he supplied.
“Interesting.”
“Why is that?”
“You just seem foreign and a bit exotic. You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is.”
He smiled at her. “My parents died when I was young but we moved around a bit before that—all over the world, so maybe that’s what you’re sensing. I was a well-travelled six-year-old.”
Memphis laughed. She could picture him with a head full of curls and a mini set of luggage.
“Lie back,” she commanded. “Tonight is a very special night.”
“Gee thanks, I’m having a good time, too,” he quipped.
She lightly punched him in the arm. “No, tonight you’ll get a chance to see a shooting star.”
“Really? But we’re not even that high up. Are you sure we don’t need a telescope? And what makes you think that I haven’t seen one?”
“Oh, you have?” Her voice was filled with disappointment.
“No,” he quickly answered.
“Great.” She brightened up. “You’ll get to see one tonight because it’s a meteor. A type of Perseids, except it’s not a meteor shower but a single one—well, part of one. I used a meteor calculator to determine when it would fall. I’m not sure if my calculations were accurate—I was just playing around with the estimator—but I have a feeling that I may be right.” She looked up. “See? There it is!” She pointed up in the air behind him. He followed her finger and his face immediately lit up. Memphis couldn’t decide what was more amazing between him or the meteor. She couldn’t bear to tear her eyes away from him.
“Memphis, this is amazing,” he breathed. He met her eyes. The star disappeared.
“What about you? What’s your story?”
She had the sudden urge to open up to him. “I was a foster child, and I don’t remember my parents.”
“Are you Indian?”
“No,” she answered. Was he trying to guess her ethnicity?
“Italian. No, wait—Persian.”
Memphis laughed and shook her head. “I’m black.” She waited for his reaction.
He cocked his head. “Yeah, that makes sense. Ethiopian,” he mused, continuing his guessing game.
“Actually, I’m not so sure. I only discovered that I was black while I was in college.”
“That’s insane. How did you find out?”
She could see his frown under the light of the moon. She told him about the professor who took a sample of her DNA.
“I didn’t think that was possible. Don’t all humans have the same DNA?”
“Yes, at a certain level; 99.9 percent of our DNA is identical, but it’s the .1 percent that makes us different, and about 1 percent of that .1 percent is different as a function of our differing history. He used a set of 176 genetic markers selected primarily because they show the most information about physical characteristics. Most of mine were found in people of African heritage. I’ve always wondered why I was able to tan so easily,” she joked.
“He sounds like quite a talented scientist.”
“He was. He died in a car accident that year.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He sat up to caress her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes.
“It was actually a little after he completed my test results. He said he found something else of interest, but he died before we could meet.”
Lawrence looked away. For some reason he didn’t ask what she thought the doctor might have found. Was the conversation about her race making him uncomfortable? Was he just like her old college boyfriend? He’d seemed receptive to her up until now.
“When I found out that I was of African descent, it made a lot of sense. Too bad my boyfriend at the time didn’t agree.”
“What do you mean?”
“He dumped me because of my race.”
“He must have been an idiot.”
She beamed. “He definitely was.”
“Do you have a boyfriend now?” he asked shyly.
He knew very well that she didn’t have a boyfriend, but she took it as a compliment.
“No, I do not.”
“You’re not attached, are you?”
A shadow crossed his face. “No,” he answered flatly. He then clumsily changed the subject. “I love your hair,” he said, grasping one of her many curls. “It’s amazing; your curls loosen and tighten according to your mood. Right now they’re loose waves.”
He was right. Memphis was surprised that he’d noticed. Her hair had responded to her moods since she was a child. He leaned in closer to analyze her coil pattern. She took the opportunity to note how long his eyelashes were. Why were some men blessed with such long lashes? It bothered her that she had to pile on mascara while he woke up practically with falsies.
Once again he caught her staring at him, and all her thoughts flew out of her head. He was right in front of her, but his energy surrounded her. He was intoxicating. She was certain that it wasn’t the sake. She felt this way at the office without a drop of alcohol in sight.
“What are you thinking?” His eyes bore into her.
Oh, now he asks. She wanted to deflect his attention, but instead he took all of hers. He placed two fingers at the base of her throat.
Her heart raced. “What are you doing?”
He took her hand and placed it on the base of his throat.
He began to count. “One, two, three. One, two, three.”
She felt his pulse.
“One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.” He repeated.
“They say that if two people are meant to be together, their hearts will beat in sync,” he whispered.
“One, two, three.” Their beats were in sync. This was too much, too soon. Their feelings shouldn’t be so strong; they barely knew each other. She dropped her hand from his throat and tried to move away from him.
He didn’t let her get too far. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and gently forced her to look directly into his eyes. She felt weak, but relaxed against him. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he bent down to kiss her.
The night’s mystery was solved—he tasted like strawberries. He tasted better than strawberries, and better than anything she’d ever tasted. He pulled her on top of him. His lips were soft but his body was hard underneath her, lean and muscular. She was getting warm. The heat from his lips spread throughout her body. She began to perspire. Gross. She didn’t want him to feel her sweating. She broke the kiss and turned her head, but he continued to kiss her neck lightly down the side. She tried to get up, but she was just too hot. She was burning up. She looked down at Lawrence. Her vision was suddenly blinded by a bright, white light.
Chapter 12
Memphis woke up alone in her bed with her head pounding. Memories from last night rushed back into her mind. Did she and Lawrence—? She looked under the sheets and found that she was fully clothed. Nothing had happened. Memphis ignored her disappointment; she must have passed out and he tucked her in. She blushed at the thought of him carrying her to bed. Her cheeks became hotter when she thought about what they almost did. He was a colleague. What a terrible idea.
She looked at the clock and realized that she was almost late for her appointment with Virgil. She leapt out of bed and quickly dressed.
She met Virgil at the coffee shop creatively named Coffee Shop. He was already seated at a booth when s
he arrived ten minutes earlier than their scheduled meeting. Something in her chart must have caused his haste. He sat toward the back of the restaurant and faced the entrance. His head was well above the booth; he was quite tall. He confirmed her observation when he got up from the booth to greet her; he was well over six feet. He had a smooth complexion, and his deep blue eyes smiled at her from behind his glasses.
“Memphis, it’s so lovely to meet you.” He had a slight accent. She couldn’t remember whether she’d noticed it when he was on air.
“Hi.” She was surprised that he knew who she was.
They sat down. “It’s great to meet you, too. I try to watch your show whenever I’m home. How long has it been in production? It’s the best one airing on the local channel.”
He gave her a strange smile before thanking her for the compliment. “I haven’t been on long; it’s been almost three months now. I actually just moved here from Paris.”
“Oh really? For work?”
“No, actually, for a personal project.”
Memphis knew to stop asking questions when someone dropped the P word. She pulled out a folder that held her chart and placed it on the table; she’d brought it just in case he wanted to examine the original.
“I was so worried about our meeting this morning. I spent the night wondering about what you could have possibly seen in my chart.” She said though she’d actually slept without waking and hadn’t even thought about Virgil until she looked at her clock.
He leaned forward. “Memphis, what do you know about your family?”
“Nothing, really. As I stated in my e-mail to you, I was raised in foster care from the age of six.”
“Yes, yes. Do you recall when I told you about the houses that show psychic ability?”
“Do you mean did I watch that episode of your show?”
He was about to say something, but quickly changed his mind. “Yes, that’s right. On my show.”
“Were you running a marathon this past week? It seemed like it was always on whenever I turned on the television.”
“Not sure. The episodes are prerecorded; it’s up to the network and the viewers when they actually air.”
“That makes sense. I guess your ratings have been high.”
He agreed and then changed the subject. “Do you have the original chart?”
“Yes, I do.” Memphis pulled out the papyrus from the folder.
He took it from her and held it as if it were a newborn. “Do you see here?” he asked, pointing at an area of the chart. “The angles of the chart and planets occupy all the water signs; Cancer in the fourth house, Scorpio in the eighth house, and Pisces in the twelfth house. This indicates great psychic ability. Have you had any such experiences?” His blue eyes bore into hers. She wanted to ask his nationality; he had such exotic features.
“No, nothing strange has really happened to me. Sometimes I know when the phone is about to ring, but that’s about it.” She laughed nervously.
He gave her a skeptical look, but continued to go over her chart. “Amazing. Pluto sits right in your eighth house; this gives you the understanding of powerful thoughts. Thoughts are actually tangible. If practiced often, one can construct a thought and make it come into being, overcoming the laws of the material world and entering the surface, changing the working machine. This is too strong a power to use for personal gain, Memphis.”
“Well, good thing I don’t have it.” She forced a smile.
He ignored her. “These powers are linked to an angular position of Neptune or Pluto occupying the first, fourth, seventh, or tenth house. You have both of them and they are linked to the Sun and the Moon. The link to the Moon is quite common, but the Sun link is not. The Sun rules personal destiny and ego.”
Memphis simply nodded.
“You also have a Leo Ascendant; this speaks of royalty.”
“Maybe I’m the long lost princess of some foreign land.”
He looked up from the paper and just stared at her. “Maybe,” he said at last, and then resumed poring over the natal chart.
“Your North Node is in Pisces and the twelfth house. Mars is in Capricorn. This means you are a determined and hard worker. The Moon rules and occupies the eighth house with Pluto attending. So, each of your occult houses is ruled by water.” He pulled out a sheet of paper from his briefcase. “I created a daily chart for you. It shows an unusual form of communication between Pluto and Neptune last week.”
“How could you have been working on my chart for two weeks? I just sent you the information yesterday.”
He looked at her for a moment before replying. “No, I just went back a week, for comparison purposes.”
“I see.” But Memphis had a funny feeling.
“Well, your daily charts look good—seven planets in your twelfth house and five planets in your eighth house. Pluto and Neptune connect to the Moon and Sun—the Moon in the eighth house and the Sun in the twelfth house. Mid-heaven is fully aligned with the fixed star Spica. This is a star of luck and fortune.”
Suddenly he grabbed her hand. “Memphis, I have something very important to explain to you. Your birthday is coming up, yes?”
“Yes, it is. Next month. Why?”
“This may take longer than you may have scheduled. Do you have time?”
Memphis didn’t bother looking at her watch to confirm. He had her hooked. “Yes, of course I do.”
“Good, then. Let’s order some coffee.”
They ordered coffee and danishes. After the waitress left with their order, Virgil went right to his lecture. It was like his show, except live, and she was his only audience member.
“The Great Polar Cycle, the Unfolding of Man-the-Whole and the division of this cycle, should be divided into seven or seventy sections because of the natural division of the poles’ path due to nutation. Nutation is a small swinging from the Earth’s north and south poles that then travels around the poles of the elliptic according to the changes of the Moon, specifically the periodic changes of the Moon’s nodes, which complete a cycle in an average of 24.1 years. There are close to fourteen hundred polar oscillations due to nutation within each Great Polar Cycle.”
“Twenty-four—that is how old I will be turning. Is that why you asked me about my birthday?”
“Yes, that is the reason for all my questions. The fact that someone with your planetary alignments is turning such a critical age at such a crucial time is very important.”
“What do you mean by crucial time?”
Their food had arrived. Virgil paused to bite into a danish. Memphis didn’t want to move her attention from her host, so she didn’t touch her own pastry.
“In astronomy, ‘precession’ refers to any of several slow changes in an astronomical body’s rotational or orbital parameters, and especially to the Earth’s precession of the equinoxes. It isn’t a constant. The last erect precessional cross occurred exactly 180 degrees ago in the precessional cycle, but we can only estimate that to be nine thousand to thirteen thousand years ago. The rate of precession may vary over long periods of time. There are many continuously changing astronomical factors that affect the rate of precession, not to mention that the cause of the precessional of the equinoxes is not even clear.
“With The Great World Cycle, the precessional cycle is between twenty-two thousand and twenty-six thousand solar years. It’s often rounded to twenty-six thousand from approximately 25,867 years and it is slightly increasing. This is about every 71.85 years. Well, it has accelerated and we are now entering the Age of Ophiuchus.”
“I thought we were entering the Age of Aquarius.”
“No, my dear, it is in fact Ophiuchus.”
“So what does this mean? How is this important and how is it related to me and my chart?”
“The twenty-six thousand year cycle has itself been divided into twelve astrological ages of approximately two thousand years each. For the last two thousand years, the spring equinox of the Sun has, in fact, been rising
against the constellation of Scorpio and will gradually begin to rise against the constellation of Ophiuchus, heralding the start of the new astrological age.”
Memphis was confused. “Is this because the signs of the zodiac used by astrologers do not correspond to the actual constellations of stars on the sky?”
“Yes, that is correct. The real star constellations have been shifting relative to the astrological signs for the last two thousand years. Because of a particular movement of the Earth’s pole, the Sun crosses the Equator at a slightly different point every year. With the passing years, this point shifts one degree approximately every seventy-two years, and shifts signs approximately every 2,156. This movement is called precession of the equinoxes. A complete cycle lasts around 25,868 years. At the end of each cycle, there is complete synchronization between each sign and each constellation.”
“I actually explained this to a friend, but I didn’t know that the difference was so much that we would skip a few ages.”
“The heavens cannot be controlled by man, but they can control man,” he said sagely.
“All right, so every 2,156 years a new age begins. From 498 AD to the year 2654, the spring equinox has not really been in the Pisces constellation.”
“No, it has not. We are technically in the Age of Scorpio. The Aquarian Age had already begun with Russia’s first space probes in the late 1950s. It is an age characterized by technical progress, by technology and spectacular inventions. And I would like for you to know that an age’s influence is strongly felt years before the exact juxtaposition of the signs and constellations. So, though we are not in the Age of Ophiuchus, we are feeling its effects. We are progressively leaving the Age of Scorpio and entering the Age of Ophiuchus. Therefore, we are in a position midway between these two astrological ages, just as you are midway to becoming a full being.”
“A full being? I’m not fully formed?” Memphis looked down at herself.
Virgil explained that he meant spiritually and then returned to the subject.
“On November 29, the Sun moves into the Real Time thirteenth sign of Ophiuchus. The Gregorian Calendar and popular zodiac magazines indicate that at this time of year, the Sun is moving through tropical Capricorn and sidereal Sagittarius. This would be true if we were still in the Aries Age, which was four thousand years ago, and the Age of Pisces, which was over two thousand years ago. However, as of 2000 AD, we are in the Age of Scorpio. Not many people have your natal chart and are born under the sign of Ophiuchus.
Written in the Sky* Rise of the Wadjet Witch Page 9
