Alchemyst by CactusRose (classic reads .TXT) 📕

hand, drew her close, kissed her with a burning passion that captured the magic of the night. That was all it took to relight her fire. She felt such relentless beauty that it illuminated the darkness and brought her to her knees.

Despite the seduction of wind-tossed waves, moonlit dancing, and a lingering kiss from a sweet young Caribbean Chef, she rallied all her resources and ran, leaving behind not so much as a sliver of glass slipper. She wanted more...love that would last. Even so, she was sorry beyond belief when she reached her room, wishing she could have brought herself to stay in that dangerous place so alienated from the stiff, conservative confines of home.

The next morning, Bacchus caught Maggie returning to the ship from a straw market shopping spree. He begged her to meet him again that evening. After dinner the music began slowly, as they tried to reestablish their rhythm without the star-laden breeze. The watchful gaze of friends further weakened the magic, so they lowered the ship's sails to a bagpipe rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’ and slipped away in different directions, never to rediscover the magic of the night.

When Maggie returned home she acknowledged her deeply spiritual time in the Caribbean. Traveling alone in a crowd had swept her soul bare. She felt that portions of her heart remained behind, in very good hands. As soon as possible

, she vowed, "I will return."

Other recent ventures besides open seas carried her into a spiritual shadowland. Native American totems...had she forgotten those? Her sister shared cards from a “life path” array that revealed which spiritual animal guides walked with her after the painful injury that damageded muscles in her back. She recovered, after much exercise, and decided there had to be a bit of alchemy tucked in those cards.

Alchemy meant many things, really, but when used to symbolize spirituality, it was an analogy for personal transformation, purification, and perfection. This approach was often termed 'spiritual', 'esoteric', or 'internal' alchemy, to show the evolution from living in an imperfect state to a more healthy and everlasting state.

Did this mean she had to uncover multiple layers of meaning to decipher the real message? Previous wisdom from the cards already warned her to be aware of hidden changes around her and be ready for a quick response. That made her wonder if grandma was right about a subtle thread of native blood running through the family.

Sweetly and naïvely, she smiled to let her friends know she was still with them.

Then, another impromptu fortuneteller came to mind. This time it was a turbaned visitor from the Indian subcontinent who greeted her with a customary Middle Eastern hand kiss, and lingered to read her palm. The incident occurred at a time when she was pregnant with her first child. Caught up in a busy life, she didn’t take him seriously. In fact, she forgot.

Strangely enough, her life unfolded exactly as predicted. He said she would marry twice with painful endings, and fall in love again only to have her heart broken. Remembering that incident in the presence of someone who was mystically involved, like Sara, Maggie wondered if the endings she'd encountered had been a self-fulfilling prophecy. But wait…hadn't she forgotten the Easterner’s words until now?

Suddenly, she was no longer certain of her convictions. The mystic had also mentioned the current loose ends that gave her power over her next destiny. Was there something to this spiritual mumbo-jumbo?

Perhaps she ought to listen to the numerologist, after all. As she shifted her eyes to Sara, she sensed a swirl of energy over her head that felt both forceful and startling. She rocketed from her seat.

Revelations

“S’cuse me fellas!” she interrupted, “I think my mother‘s here… and she wants to say something.”

Shocked by her impulsive words, Maggie slumped in the chair. She slapped a precautionary palm across her lips. Oh no! What have I done? Movement swirled over my head, and words streamed from my mouth like it was now or never. My colleagues will think I’m… impractical. Oh, crap, it's my ex boss, too. And we’re sitting in a public restaurant!

Maggie had never felt so humiliated before. She had also not felt this much curiosity.

Her friends gaped, waiting for Sara’s reaction.

Maggie glanced at her beseechingly.

Activity paused in the coffee sho; it was if everyone expected something momentous to arrive.

To her credit, JD's guest listened with earnest concentration. She was oblivious of other surroundings. When she began speaking again, Sara talked haltingly for ten minutes without stopping,

At first Maggie’s suspicious nature was aroused. Did the stranger really speak her mother’s thoughts? No one else in the room knew these intimate details. These were secret topics. After listening intently for several seconds, she scrambled for paper. Her first notes were mere scribbles.

“She wants you to know there was no pain,” droned Sara, as conversationally as if she were reading a recipe for chocolate brownies. “She had an aneurysm, bleeding led to a stroke, and she woke up almost immediately on the other side. She also says that is unusual.”

“So that’s it.” Maggie began to cry. “Everyone at the scene said she had a...a heart attack b-but I knew that wasn’t right.”

“Oh, wait, there’s more…”

Clenching a handful of tissue, Maggie nodded to encourage Sara. She felt so confused. How could this woman be speaking for her mother? And yet, she believed that the information was coming straight from her mother.

“Sorry… this is coming in staccato bursts. She was… meticulous, tried to role model, act sophisticated. Was an urban girl who didn’t fit in with country neighbors or their wives. This winsome, attractive kid… from across the tracks… was not an interloper… proud of you. Had physical problems after losing a child. She was alone, far from the help of relatives, a superwoman before ‘supermoms’…”

“Go on,” insisted Maggie. Tears streamed from her eyes so fast now she hardly dared to lift them from the scrawling, sketchy notes she wrote on the back of a menu.

“She says your dad was… an extremely powerful thinker, explorer, workaholic. Came to Earth to be an authority…to create something unique…bonded with nature, people. He was a channel changer, wanted new all the time…lots of moves, toys…could light someone’s fire. Good instigator…knew what emotional power buttons to push…freedom issues, don’t chain-limit-stop me

, good mentor…inspiring. He was spiritually deep, wanted to help nature…woodland bison, plants. You hated to disappoint him. He was a pretty nice guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me rephrase. She wants you to know why she let your father have the limelight and stood in his shadow when she wanted to earn a degree. It was so he could excel in his career.

"She gave you children crayons, coloring books, models, and other things to round out your education and teach you about the creative side of life, not just science and math. She’s terribly proud of you kids and your children.

“Oh, and another thing… she’s been spending time with a little blonde boy waiting to enter the world. Her spirit is still tired and sleeps a lot, going back and forth to check on each of you. But the old playfulness is starting to return, so watch out for surprises.”

“Will you ask a question?” Maggie astonished herself. “We’re missing someone. Is he happy?”

“She says ‘Yes’, he’s happy. E-Ethan? He’s musical, bright, college degree, medicine… a healer? Father, professor, teacher…doctor, books around him, something about a priest. Extraordinary! Must be a physician.”

When Sara finished, she closed the interaction and gave her back, saying Mother belonged not to us but to the Divine.

“Thanks, Sara!” Maggie thankfully set three pages of notes aside to translate later, hoping she hadn't ruined the luncheon for her friends.

Surprisingly, no one mentioned the incident and table chat was casual. She'd had no idea her coworkers were so spiritual.

“What’s your birthday, Maggie?” Sara asked before parting.

Without hesitation, she jotted down the date.

“Hmmm… You’re a peacemaker, aren’t you? Your strong feminine heart has an intuitive side. Looks like you’ll be challenged by relationships ‘til you die if you keep needing peace and harmony.”

Maggie nodded slightly but didn't smile. Oh, god. How disconcerting.

“Your destiny, on the other hand, is most high-powered. You were a shy child who interacted well when forced out of the countryside into the public eye. You’re a determined driver, creatively talented, persevering to overcome all obstacles.

"Strengths you possess are expressed in kindness and sympathy, which means you may be given heavy burdens. But your ability to face circumstances while working toward your goals and those of others increases your loving nature and blankets your life with good influences, lightening your load.”

“You have that part right, at least! It does lighten the task.” Maggie hadn't thought about these good influences in life before.

“Your vibration is known as the ‘Instant Manifester.’ Surrounded by money, you easily attract luck, success, and rewards for which others struggle. Unfortunately that subjects you to subtle jealousy. But your experiences result from your own efforts, and you have unlimited influence.

"Don't forget that your crystal clarity makes things real; you can make anything happen. Whatever you visualize comes into being quickly. So stay positive, Maggie.”

“I’ll say! Except for money and crystal clarity, anyway. Is this bad or good?”

“Sure... it's good. You can manifest millions. Focus is your main challenge, because you’re into so much.”

Maggie gulped. Focus was hard when you were running in ten different directions at once. She hadn't manifested anything nearly so great. “What about love?”

“Read the ‘Love Language’ book. It’s just been released in paperback.”

Maggie broke out a smile for the first time. “Thank you! This was an awesome gift. What about you? Does interpreting for others tire you?”

“Not at all. I enjoy what I do. These intuitive tidbits occur and I pass them on." Sara stretched her palms and grasped the table. "So what do you say, everyone? Is it time to say farewell till next time?”

With a round of hugs, they arranged to reunite a few weeks later, and paid their bills.

Sensory Overload

On the drive home, Maggie was nearing sensory overload and wanted to pour a relaxing bath in her little sanctuary.

Oddly enough, the first thing she noticed at home was an undeniably clean living room. ‘Clean’ and ‘Maggie’s house’ rarely occupied the same sentence. The only room not in a state of controlled chaos was Mother’s guest room.

Concentrating on domestic tasks was difficult because aftershocks occurring over the past few years made the horror hard to forget.

It was Maggie who discovered Mother’s body. One moment she’d expected her mother to open the door to her apartment laughing, with a coffee cup in her hand, and a heartbeat later Maggie plunged headfirst into the most surreal, barely comprehensible world of disbelief and remorse she had ever known.

Comfort came slowly. One thing that kept her grief alive was the sharing of near death experiences by friends. Without the right confidante, she was overwhelmed.

Ghastly Times Tabby

In an effort to understand her plight, Maggie jumped on her treadmill and ran like all of hell was after her while she glanced backward.

Father and Mother divorced when she was quite young. Well, to a small child, their separation seemed like divorce. His work required travel, so he hired Tabitha, a housekeeper living in the vicinity.

Unfortunately, poor Tabby had detestable habits. She chomped her food wickedly, refusing to close her gap-toothed mouth. On top of that, she cooked greasy meals and spewed a bantering chain of offensive backwoods grammar throughout the summer.

By fall, the vulgarity so irritated the children that they complained to Father, who in turn fired Tabby. Worse, the old