“Hardly,” I replied, leaning against the island while I watched her. “Don’tblame me for Mom and your handiwork.”
“Not me,” she argued, tossing a tea bag into her nuked water. “That was all Kathleen.”
She pointed toward the table again. “Hurry and sit.”
I begrudgingly sat across from her and watched her pull out spirit toys or whatever one called the baubles and cards. She looked up after arranging her tools of the trade between us, a serious look on her face. “So, when exactly did you arrive?”
“That’s a tough one if you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about.”
“Cut the shit, kid.”
“Jesus, lady,” I huffed. “You’re the so-called expert ain’t ya?”
“Like I told you, I didn’t do whatever this is,” she replied, waving her hands around while gesturing toward me. “Dates,” she insisted. “Give me dates.”
“So, you’re buying my story?” I asked. “No questions asked?”
“Trust me, I’ve got questions, but I don’t need convincing that you’re a visitor to this realm. I knew that the moment I held your hand last week.”
I stood and crossed the open space to the front window to check if Mom was home. “You didn’t hear this from me,” I began before returning to the table. I leaned forward and lowered my voice hoping the crazy I was about to drop on her wouldn’t get me committed. “I left this same house on September 7, 2023, and woke up in my bedroom upstairs on June 13, 2013, three and half weeks ago.”
“No shit?” she asked. Not the reply I’d expected. “How’d she do it?”
“With your help I was told.”
Druzella leaned back in her chair and stared into space for what seemed an hour but was maybe three minutes tops. “Was September an important date?”
“No, August 30thwas the important date for Mom, but the ritual or whatever, had to take place seven days after according to both you and Mom,” I explained. “You know,” I whispered. “Mom and her illness.”
Druzella went white and clutched at her odd necklace that she waswearing the first night I met her. “No . . . oh no, no, no, no, no,” she moaned in shock. “I can’t believe this and I haven’t seen any signs of her illness in my visions. And of course you’re sure because you were there.”
I nodded.
“So she sent you back to warn her? Try to save her life?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
Druzella let go of her necklace and spread her tarot cards out, breathing loudly and wincing when she touched a card.
I watched intently as she mumbled and reacted to certain cards until she held one up for me to see.
“Who else died on August 30th? Your father? A relative? There’s a third loved one coming through,” she began before dropping the black card suddenly and lowering her voice to a tone that seemed otherworldly, which honesty was how she seemed to me from the jump. “The trinity is dead,” she stated. “And what about the jewels I keep visualizing?”
“Dad died but not in August. The other person . . . well . . . he’s not dead . . . yet,” I said. She looked at me like I was a ghost. “And I came through holding the ring that you keep seeing.”
“The three Cancers,” she mumbled. “You, Kathleen, and who else,” she asked.
I pointed across the street.
“The boy,” she stated.
I nodded. “He’s eighteen today, like me.”
“So, both of you were born on the same day,” she mused, speaking to herself and staring at Coop’s house. She reached for the dark and foreboding card she’d earlier dropped. “Let me guess,” she began, rubbing the card between her palms. “Kathleen and the boy?” she asked without saying the worddied. “On August 30th?”
“That is correct,” I said.
“And the jewels?” she asked.
