Scent Of Flowers
By Rachel
It was a strange night. The psychic
passed me a piece of paper with the initials of the name of the person I would
somehow cross paths with
supposedly in a garden, beneath a pale full moon. This
person, the person I was meant to share this night with
to share my soul with,
to lie with and love with
that person who was my soul mate on this one eve with
this one full moon, as the orbits of the planets aligned each one just as so
I
couldnt believe my eyes when I saw who it was, whose those initials belonged
to that had been scrawled by this woman, this gypsy who knew not of me nor the
names of anyone that I held close
How could she know? How was it that her
fingers, her hand, had written out those letters, those permanent and impending
letters, in such a faith as to write them down, then pass to me this slip of
paper, just a slip of paper with two inscribed letters, this slip of paper that
would confirm my destiny?
I couldnt
believe it.
In fact,
I didnt.
But I did
as I was told, and when the candle was passed before me, I touched the corner
of the paper and lay it in a dish, and then I watched it burn, the evidence of
her disclosure, never to be laid upon by anothers eyes.
Do not
speak of this no more. She said simply in a heavy east European accent.
She
closed her eyes, and held out her hand, and I passed her a twenty-dollar bill.
With a
wave of her hand, she dismissed me. With the tingle of a bell, a warm breeze
passed, smelling of spring, of honeysuckle and jasmine, and of everything good
in this earth.
I paused
in the doorway, and staring back at her, I cocked my head.
She
hadnt made a sound; she hadnt moved a muscle. I closed my eyes, and as I
reopened them, the smell of spring was gone, replaced with the cold biting
smell of fallen leaves.
And so I
turned, still in awe and feeling a part of myself open up to all the sudden
possibilities that filled my being, and I headed back out into the chilly
October night.
I dont believe in
psychics. Never have, never will
Or so I think.
I dont know what
prompted me to go in. I was walking down the street; it was starting to get
dark out. Cold winds tousled red and gold leaves in all directions. It was as a
leaf scraped past my feet and almost continued slowly before me, leading my
steps, my eyes glued to its parched form, that I almost ran into an opening
door. The leaf suddenly stopped, as did I, and then it suddenly skittered left,
out into the street. I stopped just short of having my nose broken.
Surprised, I looked
up as a woman with long dark hair and a long flowing skirt and a long jacket
stepped out. A bell rang. I held the door for her, and she smiled appreciatively.
As she smiled, as she walked past me, and as she did this without a single word
coming from her lips, time seemed to go to a crawl, and I heard the word
Welcome. The bell rang, and she disappeared and I suddenly looked back to the
door I was holding. I was stricken with curiosity at the painted sign on the
glass door.
A psychic.
As I said, I dont
believe in psychics, but something compelled me to go inside. I dont know what
made me feel so comfortable and safe as I sat down and outstretched my hand,
but whatever it was, I was enchanted.
I was a little
surprised at what I was told.
I laid out a
twenty-dollar bill, and strangely, I didnt feel the least bit foolish for
doing so. I took her heed to heart, and decided I would not mention this to
others.
I started to reach
for the door, and as I did, I heard the bell ring again, and suddenly a warm
breeze that smelled curiously of spring was touching me. I paused, stricken by
its feel, as time seemed to stand still once more that day as I breathed in its
scent. My eyes had been closed. As I reopened them, the warmth disappeared and
instead, there was the bitter cold of fall surrounding me. I stepped out the
door, and headed down the sidewalk.
Only god, or some other force of nature, could know why I
was sitting there
my palm turned face up on the table as an old Hungarian woman
traced a long, dark nail down the lines in my skin. I was anxious, I have to
admit, to hear what she had to say
Not about life, careers, journeys, and all
that other crap, but about love. Thats the whole reason we go to these places,
right? Thats ultimately what draws us here: Whom will I fall for, and will
they fall back?
I guess my eagerness transcended through my palm because
the psychic looked up at me, grinning, and said, I will show you what you want
to see soon enough. I blushed, and lowered my eyes back to her fingers tracing
the skin of my palm.
Unlasting Bliss??? I was baffled. Love is fleeting???
Tell me something I dont know! I would Find love in the purest of moments in
an innocent encounter beneath a blue light
What the
? Yeah! OKAY!
What the hell did that mean?
I had too many questions and her seemingly vague answers
seemed to elude farther from what I wanted, no, needed, to hear.
She looked up from my hand, closed her eyes, tore a scrap
of paper from a notepad at her side and began to write. I watched in wonder as
she, eyes still closed, folded the note and passed it to me.
Slowly, almost cautiously, I opened it. I stared at its
contents wantonly trying to understand its intent. Finally she placed a silver
plate before me, then motioned to the candle.
Now burn it, She said, eyes still closed. And never
speak of what youve been told.
I slowly touched the corner of the paper to the flame and
watched it engulf before I dropped it in the tray to watch it smolder into
ashes.
I didnt understand its meaning, and I doubted I ever
would, but I laid out the twenty anyway and rolled my eyes. I got up, went to
the door, and as I opened it, I heard a bell. And as I heard the bell, I
suddenly had this feeling
I looked back to the woman, who sat eyes still
closed, and something told me not to discount what she had said.
I stepped outside, letting the door swing closed behind
me, and once again I heard the bell, but then I was suddenly overcome by the
smell of flowers.
It was sweet
and somehow promising.
I suddenly remembered we were in the dead of fall, and
looked around expecting to find a street vendor selling bouquets. But the
street was empty.
I spun around to stare back through the glass of the door,
and the smell immediately ceased.
Magic.
I know thats what it was.
I felt magic as I walked past that door, and thats what pulled
me in. Im not exactly a sucker for these things, not exactly, but I do have to
wonder if someone can tell the future by a line in your hand. Or when they flip
a card, if they can tell what kind of struggles youll have, or if by closing
their eyes and growing very quiet if they can somehow tell if youre going to
live your life the way youd always hoped you would.
Okay, so I am a sucker. So sue me.
I was hanging on her every word, every rough roll of her rs;
every beginning of a sentence to every last word at the end of it. I burned the
paper, my future, and I watched until the flame died out. I paid her her money
and dazedly walked out the door, carefully closing it behind me. I wasnt
paying attention to my surroundings, only reliving her words in my head when
the sound of a bell made me jump. I spun around, and only found the closed door
to the shop. Someone must have gone in after me, I hadnt noticed. I turned
back when suddenly I felt it.
The leaves rustled, then the sound disappeared into whispers as
a warm wind caressed my face. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, the smell of
some fragrant and delicate flower filling me. Goosebumps ran down the length of
my arms, and I hugged myself. If ever there was magic, this was it.
I let myself ride the uplifting warmth until it fell away,
replaced by a chilled slice of air. I remembered it was late fall, almost snow.
I opened my eyes and the sounds of the street once again filled me. I smiled
and started walking ahead.
Yes, Im a sucker for magic.
What am I doing here? This isnt me, to put faith in these
things.
But, still I sat, huddled in my chair carefully watching the
woman before me. It was getting dark outside. I glanced back out the glass of
the front door and saw the street lamps had already come on.
This lady better get a move on it, and this had better be worth
the twenty bucks.
I see a great love in your future, She said.
Oh really, I replied blandly, staring into her face. A scowl
appeared across her forehead before a slight smile broke out across her lips. I
think I almost pissed her off.
Yes, child, a great love, full of many surprises and little
pain.
Little pain, that was nice to know.
So, when does this great love come into play? I asked as she
held my palm face up in her hand. She smiled.
Why, tonight.
Tonight? I asked skeptically.
Beneath the full moon, near a body of water.
What? Youre kidding me,
Dont you believe me? I think she looked amused. She was
kidding. I sighed and pushed my hand closer to her. I didnt have all night.
In all seriousness, I do see a great love in your near future.
It will make you rethink how you view yourself, and you will learn something
precious about the gifts youve been given in this life. You will not see it
coming, you will not see in the light but when it does, it will be sweet and
perfect, and you will be happy. But, it can not last. Short lived, but no
matter
in time, you will fall in love again with the right one, and that love
will last through this life and the next.
Vague, mushy, romantic love.
Just what I needed to put my faith into.
I laid out the twenty and started to stand when she passed me a
piece of paper.
Heed your future and never speak of what you have learned.
That was all she said before pushing a candle in front of me. I
guess I was supposed to burn it. I looked down at it one more time, wanting to
instead shove it into my pocket and take it home to tack to my wall. But I
obliged the soothsayers words, and I touched its corner to the tip of the
flame.
It burned and I left, and I pushed it out of my head before I
even heard the door close behind me. What a waste of twenty bucks.
But I caught a scent of flowers in the breeze, and I heard a
bell ring, and I felt warm for the first time all day. Something sparked in my
mind for just a brief second
hope, was it? Maybe
I dont know. I had things to do. I started walking home.
Leave
it to the lady with the gypsy scarf to know exactly what to say to get me
interested.
You
are not like your friends.
How
did she know?
You
are afraid, fearful of a loneliness you desperately resist, yet also cling to
Right
so far,
You
dont have faith in your self and are afraid of what pleases you, what can make
you happy
Wow.
You
curse yourself, and make things harder than they should be. You are not taking
chances, not letting yourself risk what it will take for you to become what
fate has meant for you to be.
But
what if thats not who I want to be? I asked, leaning forward anxiously across
the table. She smiled and continued tracing her finger over my hand.
But
it is you. Why would you not want to be yourself?
She
asked it as if she didnt expect an answer. And she didnt. Her dark eyes
lowered to my palm and I watched her intently.
You
are confused, you want to fit a roll, one that is not meant for you. You have
much heartache ahead if you do not change your way of thinking. You must appreciate
this life, it is the stepping stone of something bigger. This life is meant for
enjoyment. Success. Goodness. You can not fail.
She
was peering at my skin, as if she werent seeing me but something inside of me.
I was nervous. My palm began to sweat, but I dont think she noticed.
You
will fall back into an old shoe. You will do something that brought you pain
the first time around, but this time will bring you comfort and purpose. Do not
let it confuse you, it is not meant to. It is only meant to make you feel that
you are worthy of more than you have allowed yourself. You will stumble many
times on your way to destiny, but somewhere along the way, you will stop to
smell the flowers, This brought a smile to her face. And you will enjoy it.
I sat
waiting for more, but she said nothing. Instead she passed me a note. I looked
down at the scrawling there and looked at her questioningly and started to
speak. I was confused.
She
rose her finger to her lips, hushing me, and motioned to the candle at the edge
of the table. I burnt the paper and stood. I paid her and I went to the door. I
paused, looking back at her, and she grinned.
Whatever
confusion I had left me in that moment, and as I pushed out the door, a gently
bell rang and I was overcome with a calm that matched nothing like the weather.
I stepped outside, and for a brief second, thought I felt a warm blanket
surround me smelling suspiciously of flowers