[pirate witch]: 524.Novels.NaNoWriMo 2006

December 1st
Weird dreams. Not the kind of weird dreams where you wake up going, "Wow, that was weird." Weird dreams where you wake up and go, "Oh no I'm being attacked by a bottle of bumblebees that's on fire!" Those are the kind of dreams I have been having lately. For the past month, I haven't woken up refreshed. I wake up with angry spoons doing the polka in my mind, and it is quite distracting. While in history class a few days ago, my friend saw me muttering to myself, trying to drive the images away, and she recommended I go see a psychic. "A psychic?" I asked myself. "Why would a psychic care about my dreams?" But, as it happened, I was in town today and saw a new shop. I decided to investigate, and much to my surprise, a woman in a starry turban and a long pink dress was just putting up a sign by the door. "The Eternally Illustrious Madame Zupinski. Psychic advisor and expert in exotic teas." The sign read. She saw me looking and swooped off the ladder to shake my hand.

"Hello dear, welcome to my new domain." She said, as though she had been expecting me. "Do come in, have a cup of tea, and allow me to read into your future." She startled me so much that I didn't have time to argue as she pulled me into the dimly lit shop and pushed me unto a cushion on the floor. "I'll be right back!" She called as she floated into the adjoining room. Within moments, she returned carrying a tray, on which was a large floral teapot that had blue steam coming from the spout. Two matching tea cups rattled next to it. With a flourish Madame Zupinski handed me a cup and began to pour some violet tea into it with such drama that one would have thought she was presenting me with the holy grail.

"Please, drink my dear." She said. "This is my favorite tea. I call it the holy grail of tea, because it is so often sought after, but the result is even better than one could have imagined." Of course. I took a sip though, and found that it was good tea. Maybe it was alright that I had been practically dragged into a psychic shop by a crazed tea enthusiast. After all, my friend had suggested I see a psychic. I decided to try my luck.

"Madame Zupinski." I said, taking yet another sip of my tea. "What coincidence that you should open up shop in my town." My voice was becoming more and more sickeningly polite and flattering, but what could I do? Psychics are, I have heard, rather susceptible to flattery. " Lately, I have been having troubling dreams. Dreams that I think may foretell of my future. Do you know anything about dreams?" I fluttered my eyelashes, hoping that I wouldn't look like as much of an idiot as I felt.

Madame Zupinski gasped and put one ring encrusted hand to her bright red lips. "My dear, I absolutely excelled at dream reading in my youth!" She gushed. "But first, let us finish our tea, and you can introduce yourself." She poured more tea for herself and looked at me intently, waiting. It took me a while to realize that she was expecting me to talk.

"Err, well, I am Kathryn." I said, feeling foolish. Why hadn't I introduced myself before? Oh yes. Because Madame Mysterious had swept me into her little shop with a flurry of tea and dramatics. What the hell was I doing? "I live here in town, and I am in ninth grade at the high school." I expected that to be it, mais non. Madame Zupinski, enthralled, gestured for me to continue.

"Go on dear. It is necessary that I know as much about you as possible before I hear about these dreams." Right. I had been to psychics before, I knew that the more you talked, the more they memorized about you to stick into your fortune to make it more real. I almost got up and left right then, thinking about how stupid this whole thing was, when I saw in my mind's eye penguins shooting at me with Tommy guns. Needless to say, I stayed in my seat.

"I live with my older sister and her boyfriend. Lily, my sister, is twenty two. Her boyfriend Rod is twenty three. My parents died in a plane accident when they were coming home from Bermuda two years ago. Aside from that and these dreams, I'm not all that interesting." I hoped that would be enough, because the last thing I wanted to do was go into detail on my eating habits, the kind of toothpaste I used, and all the other useless facts one could possibly want to know about me. Luckily, it seemed to be enough to satisfy Madame Zupinski, for she let her eyes go all teary for a moment before snapping back into business mode.uld figure out what was going on with the dreams, she would not charge me for visits. All she required was that every weekend I would come and help her run the little tea shop for a few hours. I happily agreed, first because I loved the idea of not paying, and also because I was really beginning to like Madame Zupinski, despite all of her dramatics. Working in the tea shop could be fun.

"Yes, yes. Tragedy does eventually fall unto us all." This sounded painfully familiar to me. She probably got it out of a book. However, despite the melodramatic demeanor, I was beginning to warm up to Madame Zupinski. Maybe it was the tea, or the cozy room, or the prospect of my dreams being cleared up, but I was beginning to relax.

"On your sign, it mentions exotic teas." I pointed out. "What kind of tea is this that you are serving? It is delicious." And that was the truth. If I had brought any money with me, (and of course I hadn't), I would have bought some. It tasted like chamomile and ginseng mixed with wild roses and blackberries and the scent of lavender. There was also something I couldn't quite place. The sound of rain on a warm night, and sunsets over the ocean were all that came to mind. Obviously, this tea was good.

"This tea is, as I said before, my very favorite. I only give it to my special clients. Since you were my first client here at my new shop, I thought to bring it out. You have no idea how happy I am to hear that you enjoy it as much as I do. The tea is called Farrendian, and I make it myself." She poured me another cup full of it, and I smiled at the color of the steam. "Now, tell me about your dreams, Kathryn."

As I opened my mouth to test Madame Zupinski's psychic skills, Lily called me. I answered the phone in time to hear "GET BACK HOME NOW FOR DINNER!" So I left the warm room into the snow, but I am going back tomorrow. If not for anything but that tea.

A butterfly fell out of thin air.
The butterflies were just that, butter with wings. It was all very strange. Kathryn certainly thought so, because the toast she had in her hand was struggling to take to the skies with it's companions. Unfortunately for the toast, a rather large bullfrog was sitting on it.

"Hello." The bullfrog said to Kathryn politely. "Lovely evening, isn't it?" It whipped its tongue out to catch one of the butterflies from the air and ate it in one bite.

"Tasty?" Kathryn asked. She wasn't really interested in the taste of the bullfrog's meal at all, she was more interested in seeing if it really could speak, and she hadn't imagined it.

The bullfrog considered her question. "I've had better." She admitted. "This one was a bit too salty, and the wings always get stuck in my throat. Still, it's better than eating flies isn't it?"

Kathryn, who had never eaten a fly before, just nodded. One of the butterflies had gotten stuck on a branch of the large oak tree that Kathryn and the bullfrog were sitting under. She really wanted to help it, but the frog didn't look like she would appreciate being put back down onto the ground. The toast still struggled to take to the air. This earned it a disapproving look from the heavy frog.

"Your toast is problematic." The frog pointed out, almost rudely. Still, she hopped to the side of Kathryn's hand, and the Toast burst into the air joyfully, making joyful toasty noises. After a few seconds of blissful freedom, however, the wind got too hard, and the once liberated toast fell back down to the base of the oak tree. Embarrassed, it lay down and pretended to die, waiting for the bullfrog to stop laughing.

"I really shouldn't be laughing so hard." The bullfrog croaked. "I have a terrible case of asthma, you see. I should stop smoking those lillypad cigarettes, but they do wonders for my weight. If only it were June." By this time, Kathryn was so fed up with the bullfrog that she left her by the disgruntled peice of toast and set off down the gravel path to her left. It ended at a clearing where several antelope were playing golf. Not liking golf at all, Kathryn, just braided a daisy chain until she woke up, singing about the days of June.


December 2nd
Weird dreams last night too, although thankfully no polka music this time. I never want to eat toast again, that's for sure. Or for that matter see a bullfrog. School is boring, homework is enormous, I was anxious all day to go back to Madame Zupinski's.
By the time I left school, snow was falling faster than it was this morning. The fat wet flakes were getting caught in my curly hair, and by the time I got into town I slightly resembled a drowned cat. I saw the telltale colorful scarves and shining tassels that were in Madame Zupinski's window, and couldn't wait to get inside, where it was warm.

To my surprise though, Madame Zupinski already had someone sitting in my cushion. It was a man, a man who’s face I couldn’t see, as his back was to me. But I could see Madame Zupinski. She was holding three tarot cards, and shaking them at her client. She looked angry. No, not angry. She looked upset, scared. But then she saw me looking through the shop window, and she pointed the man to the back room. He got up and walked through the curtain to the room where Madame Zupinski had brought the tea out yesterday.

Madame Zupinski waved me into the shop. When I walked in, thankful for the warmth, she was putting the tarot cards away. "Hello Kathryn!" She said. Her mysterious air seemed to have dissipated with her previous visitor. She seemed flustered and nervous. It was very strange to see, and although I had only known her for only a day, I was concerned.

"Are you alright Madame Zupinski?" I asked. "Is there anything I can do?" She just shook her head and straightened up the cushions. There might have been tears in her eyes, because she did wipe them with her chiffon sleeve. But when she turned back to me, her eyes were clear and penetrating.

"My dear, could you please wait here for just a few moments? I have some things I need to take care of." She pointed to the cushion and adjusted her turban. I took the seat, trying to keep my wet hair from dripping on anything important. "Would you like more Farrendian while you wait?" She asked me. I nodded, remembering the effect of the tea yesterday. I could use some warm happiness on such a cold day. After Madame Zupinski brought out the tea tray and poured me a cup, she returned to the back room. I found myself thinking about her visitor and why he could have made her so upset. It wasn't my business I know, but I was feeling nosy. After all, if I was going to bore this woman with my infernal dreams, she could tell me things too. Lilly always yells at me, telling me that I care too much about other stranger's lives. Thats probably true.

I waited for over an hour, wondering what Madame Zupinski could be doing that was taking up so much time. I had finished the entire pot of tea, and my hair was almost dry. The snow outside was beginning to pile up, and I was getting tired. As my eyes began to shut, images danced in front of my eyelids. The last thing I heard before sinking into the cushion was raised voices, one female and one male, coming from the back room.

Kathryn was ballroom dancing on a checkerboard floor. Her partner was only a shadow. This was a little bit discerning. Even the shadow's hand on her waist didn't feel quite solid enough. But when her foot slipped off the floor and into the emptiness, the shadow disappeared. A turban broke her fall.

I had been dreaming I guess, because Madame Zupinski shook me awake, and the man from before was with her. She looked genuinely concerned, but her companion simply looked bored. His facial features reminded me of Madame Zupinski, they were very expressive. "I'm ok." I reassured the worried woman. "I was just dreaming."
"You were screaming." The man pointed out. He seemed to be around twenty years old or so, give or take two years. His tone was almost mocking. "Bad dreams?"
"I've had worse." It was true. Falling into black abysses after dancing with shadow men was almost boring for me. Usually I was pushed into an abyss, or dancing with jello monsters. "I'm sorry that I worried you Madame Zupinski." She relaxed a bit, and sat down onto her cushion.

"No dear. I am sorry that I took so long to meet with you. Almost two hours I was in the back room." She glared at the man next to her for a moment before continuing. "Today will be free of charge." That was good, because the thought of money had never even crossed my mind. Of course I should be paying for these psychic visits! Now I hope Lilly doesn't see the bill for yesterday. But back to this evening.
The man returned to the back room, and Madame Zupinski regained her mystical additude from the first day I met her. "Now, my dear, I think that it is time for us to discuss these strange dreams of yours. Do begin."

I told her about the dreams where I died several times over, the dreams where I was someone different entirely, and the dreams so scary I wake up screaming. I even told Madame Zupinski about the dreams so abstract it was an embarrassment to recount them. These were the dreams about the polka dancing spoons, and the antelopes playing golf. Madame Zupinski took this all in, and when I was finally done talking, she was deep in thought. After a few moments of what looked like pained concentration, she spoke to me.

"I think that it would be best if you start a dream diary Kathryn." She said. "Record everything you can about these dreams, how you feel about them, anything you can think of. Each time you come here for a session, bring this diary with you. I believe that with this tactic, we can begin to muddle through the symbols and puzzle out what your subconscious is trying to tell us." She also told me that, until we could "delve deeper" (as madame mystery would put it) into my subconscious situation, I could borrow a book on dream interpretation. 

I have the book under my bed now, as I'm sure Lily would laugh at me for going to see a psychic, let alone having a book on dreams in the house. Lily isn't always the most open minded of people, she likes to believe what she sees and what they taught her in school, and that's it. Not that I believe everything either. I'm just a bit too trusting and gullible. Nothing wrong with that. Yet. I do have a lot of life to live.

Tonight, I begin to keep track of my dreams. I am going to see Madame Zupinski in three days. That is a lot of dreams. A lot of looking up abstract symbols. 

The logs needed to be chopped. It was necessary, seeing as it was almost winter. As Kathryn lifted the axe and chopped the logs one laboring swing at a time, she began to hear some strange sounds. The last leaves that were clinging to the trees were rustling, although there was no wind that night. Then there were soft sounds like rocks being dropped onto the ground. In fact, the grass was getting squished by something. As Kathryn put down her axe to investigate, the sounds increased, and hail began to fall on her head. She pulled up her hood, and returned to the chopping of the wood, because if she went inside without that wood, something bad would happen. As Kathryn picked up the axe, she saw a back car pull up in her driveway. Without picking up any of the wood, she ran inside as fast as she could.

December 3rd
Last night my dream was quite dark, I remember being slightly scared I think. There was a hail storm while I was chopping a log into firewood. And a car pulled up into the driveway, then I ran away. Now it's time to see if these actually mean anything. Into the book we go.

The Complete Dream Book. the classic guide to the mysterious world of dreams. By Edward Frank Allen.

Hail: To dream of hail signifies sorrow and trouble, and sometimes that the most hidden secrets shall be revealed and made known. To dream of great and long-continued hail, attended with tempest and thunder, signifies afflictions, troubles, dangers losses, and perils; though to the poorer sort such dreams signify repose; for during such storms they are shut up and at rest.

Well, I don't know what the end of that meant, but I should venture to guess that something bad is going to happen, and that someone's secrets will not be so secret anymore.

Woodpile: Misunderstandings in love are betokened by dreaming of a wood pile. to dream of working at a woodpile, either sawing or piling logs, is a sign of failure to make marraige a success.

I'm not planning to get married anytime soon, so this one doesn't make too much sense.

Axe: A much battered, nicked, rusty or broken axe fortells irresponsibility on the part of loved ones, also unfortunate investments.

That axe was pretty battered I think, seeing as I think that in my dream I got a splinter in my hand.

So it would seem that there is to be trouble, revealing of secrets, failed marriage, and irresponsible loved ones in my future. Fabulous. Maybe Madame Zupinski can figure it out better, especially since there is no romance at all in my life. None. Zipnada. Void of relationships. How very depressing. I have to go to school now, maybe I will start writing in my dream diary after school, because I fell a little rushed. Actually, I feel very rushed. I'm late.

.......

Well, school was an absolute disaster. I have been so preoccupied lately that I only realized during homeroom that I had not done any homework at all. Then, throughout all my classes I kept thinking about that guy who had upset Madame Zupinski. I wondered what he had done, and I was worrying about her. I don't know why, I'm sure Madame Zupinski is perfectly able to take care of herself. 

I told Hannah that I had gone to a psychic like she had suggested. It turns out she was just joking. Why am I so gullible, I could have sworn that she was being serious. As it turns out though, I think that going to Madame Zupinski's is working out well, much better than any of those therapists. I hated them so much. 

Today I have to do all of my homework before I go to sleep. Mr. Culler was furious with me, I almost got a detention.

The scent of ammonia is never a good one, and Kathryn was no exception to this rule. She was sitting in her math class, when the scent wafted in through one of the windows. No one else seemed to notice, all of the other students were still looking at the black board or sleeping, or talking to each other. But Kathryn's head was reeling, and she was feeling sicker by the second. She turned to look out the window, holding her breath.

Nothing was to be seen amiss from her seat at her desk. So Kathryn got up and staggered across the room, leaning out the window. She vaguely heard her teacher calling her name as she leaned outside, trying to see who was using the ammonia. No one was out there. As she began to succumb to a sudden attack of nausea and was about to dispell the remenants of her last meal, Kathryn fainted and fell out the window onto the concrete below.

December 4th.
I woke up this morning puking up a lung. I felt so sick, which was odd since I felt perfectly fine yesterday when I went to sleep. Maybe it was that dream. I hate the smell of ammonia. When I was young, when my parents were still alive, I was in a building where someone had been cleaning with it once and spilled it all over the floor. I think it was daddy's work building. Anyway, the point is, I threw up all over the floor. Lily was thirteen at the time, I must have been six or seven. She got so angry at me because I had ruined her dress. No one has used ammonia around me since, now Lily doesn't even buy it.

Because I was so sick this morning, Lily called the school and told them I was not coming in. Now I feel fine, but I'm not going to complain about a day off. I can use this time to look up my dreams and get some of that homework out of the way. 

The Complete Dream Book

Ammonia: You will be decieved by one of the people whom you considered freindly if you dream of smelling ammonia or using it for cleaning.
Fabulous. Just what I need.

School: Distinction will come to you if you dream of attending school. It is an augury of progress in many lines.
That one is a bit confusing. I will have to ask Madame Zupinski.

Falling: This dream is merely a warning to "watch your step" in connection with business, members of the opposite sex, and physical fitness
I will take this one literally. Never disregard a direct warning.

There is something I have noticed. Since I began this dream diary my dreams have been getting progressively darker. They began as just weird dreams, almost humorous. Now they are making me physically sick. This is something that I will have to bring up tomorrow when I go back to the psychic shop.

Outside of the dream world, I think that Hannah is angry with me, although I have no idea why. I called her a while ago, asking about homework since I had missed classes today, and she was very cold. It could be nothing, but this does concern me a bit. She is my best friend, and I hope she is honest with me. Life is currently being weird enough without angry friends.

Kathryn reached her hand out to the door knocker. It was heavy, probably made of iron or something equally sinister. Sinister? Why had she thought that? Kathryn shook her head, took a deep breath, and knocked. The sound that reverberated around the dark stone hall was quite eerie. The door was made of wood, that was for certain, but the sound the knocker made against it almost reminded Kathryn of glass. 

The castle that Kathryn was in was freezing, and the stone floor against her bare feet did nothing to help with this predicament. This whole situation was very spooky, Kathryn realized, it reminded her of one of those traditional black and white horror movies. All she needed now was a wolf howling in the background. As that thought crossed her mind, a wolf did howl in the background.

"Perfect." Kathryn said out loud, in response to the oh so cliche wolf howl, but also to hear her own voice. It was meant to be a comforting sound. The echo that it threw around the castle hall completely failed to comfort. She knocked on the door again, more determined this time. Whoever was behind it was taking their own sweet time to open the door. Finally Kathryn pushed it open herself, silently hoping that the person she was going to see was less intimidating than the setting, and would forgive her intrusion.

No such luck. The woman was in the middle of a drink of wine and did not look pleased to see Kathryn waltz right into the room. Not that she was waltzing, but she wasn’t exactly bowing and averting her eyes either. Although the woman’s shoulder length hair obscured Kathryn’s vision of her, she looked oddly familiar. 

"What are you doing here Kathryn?" The woman asked. She put the wine down and stood up from the throne of a chair that she was seated in. Her dress was black, kind of medieval looking. It didn’t look very comfortable. All that Kathryn could see of this strange woman’s face were her lips, and they were bright red. Was it from the wine or some kind of lipstick? Kathryn took a step backwards towards the door she entered from. 

"I’m sorry ma’am." Kathryn mumbled. She wondered how the woman had learned her name. "For some reason I thought I was supposed to come here. I...I don’t know why." Then the thought occurred to her. "Do you know why I was supposed to be here?"

The woman laughed her eerily familiar laugh and shook her head. It caused her hair to fall away from her face. It was Hannah’s face. Hannah about twenty years older, true, but Kathryn recognized her right away. “Stop thinking so much Kathryn,” The older Hannah said. “It will only get you into trouble.”

This was all too weird for poor Kathryn. She turned and ran through the giant doors, and although no one was following her, she continued running. She raced through the stone hallway, the sounds of her bare feet hitting the cold floor echoing. She fled into the dying garden, bathed in moonlight, that was (if possible) spookier than the castle. The wolf howled again. This time the goose bumps that ran up and down Kathryn’s arms were instant. This was not a good place to be. 

Kathryn tried, she really did, but the iron gate surrounding the garden would not open. The spikes decorating the top of the fence did not bode well for climbing, but she could not reach the top. By this point in time, the wolf was biting at her heels, and Kathryn’s hand slipped.

December 5th.
That was one terrifying dream. Scary as hell. And what was Hannah doing as a red wine drinking creepy lady? Could this just be a result of my worrying? Could be. But I’ll talk to Madame Zulu about it anyway. I’m going to see her after school. And I’m going to bring some money, if not to pay for the sessions, (Madame Zupinski told me that they would be free until we reached the bottom of this dream mess), to buy some Farrendian tea. Maybe I’ll give some to Lily and Rod. Or maybe I won’t. I would have to explain that I’ve been seeing a psychic. I haven’t told them yet. They think I keep going to Hannah’s or eating in town. I should probably think of a suitable excuse for when Lily asks. She is not as bad as a parent when it comes to security, but I think she does go a bit overboard sometimes. Maybe she is trying to make up for the death of Mom and Daddy, perhaps she feels like she owes them something. But could she please make it up to them in some other way than worrying about my mental health?

I admit, recently I have been concerned with my own mental health. I’m not a scary person. I do not read gothic novels or watch horror movies. Where is my mind coming up with these weird images? What are the images anyway? I can usually remember the general plot of my dreams when I wake up. When there is a plot that is. But the scenery is always difficult to remember. I remember the door with the heavy knocker, I remember the cold hallway, and I remember the garden. The garden is the most vivid. The trees in it were dead, the roses were blackening, and the moon made everything look like ghosts. Even the statues looked dead, from what I could see as ran from Hannah. I really hope I do not have any more dreams like that.

Later The Same Day

Of course I would come right home and write in this cursed diary rather than get a start on my constantly calling homework. But I just got back from Madame Zupinski’s shop, and I want to make sure I remember everything that she told me. I showed her my dream diary, and she likes it so far. When she read my translations of symbols, she would write down notes on a pad of paper with stars and moons on it. How fitting for the situation.At times she nodded, frowned, and she even gasped when, I will assume, she got to my description of my most recent dream. Or maybe it was the fact that a dream can make me so sick I have to stay home from school.

“Kathryn, my dear, you are certainly a special case.”

I waited for the rest. Maybe this was meant to be a compliment, but I wasn’t sure what to think. A special case? Ok. Why was I a special case? Is that a bad thing? Are you going to throw me out of here right now? These thoughts all ran through my mind, and I just nodded.

“Many people have to guess the meanings of their dream interpretations and just run on that guesswork. If you have read the signs carefully, and it looks to me like you have. (Trust me, I’m experienced in this kind of thing.)” I did trust her. Who better to trust with dreams than a psychic? Back to this afternoon and our conversation. 

“You, Kathryn, you seem to have dreams that run in some sort of order.” This made me laugh. My dreams certainly do not run in any kind of order! Madame Zupinski tapped her ringed fingers impatiently and waited for me to finish my explosive bout of chuckling. “Yes. It may not seem so to you, the dreamer, and of course it wouldn’t. But I can see otherwise. Each morning, you record the meanings of the dream the night before. And then you dream that night. If you look closely, and read between the lines, you will see that many times, your dreams complete the prophesy of the symbols.”

“The symbols are making a prophesy?” I shook my head. This was all becoming very confusing. I sipped the Farrendian tea from my floral teacup. It made me hiccup. “What *hic* is this *hic* supposed prophesy?”  Madame Zupinski frowned in a way a teacher would frown at a child. 

“Prophesy is just a fancy word for prediction Kathryn. How do you expect me to get any clients if I can’t speak in a mystical and dramatic fashion?” This was the first time I had ever heard Madame Zupinski talk about her professional life.

“What do you mean?” I asked, rather startled. “You don’t normally speak like that?” I had thought that the out there attitude came with the being a psychic package. It never occurred to me that it could be a way of treating customers.

“Of course I don’t silly girl!” She said. “I speak just like a normal person. The only difference with me is that I make fabulous tea and am rather in tune with the world around me.” She smiled. “My name isn’t really Zupinski either. It seems to be necessary for a psychic to have a last name that starts with a Z and sounds foreign. My name is Elizabeth Mulkin. Rather plain sounding isn’t it?”

I made one of those non-committal half nod half head shakes. “Would you like me to still call you Madame Zupinski?” I felt like quite an idiot. Did the name really matter all that much, did it help her see the future? Was Elizabeth Mulkin really all together that eternally illustrious?

Madame Zupinski/ Elizabeth thought about this for a few minutes. “No, Kathryn, I think I would like you to call me Elizabeth. After all, you were my first customer, and I must say that I really do care about your situation. Maybe you and I can become friends.” She slumped back into her cushion. “I am getting rather tired. Maybe you could come back tomorrow?”

Eager to please, I gathered up my dream diary and put it in my back pack. “Of course Elizabeth.” I said. “I’ll record my dreams tonight and come back tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely.” She said. “Would you do me a favor please?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t tell anyone about my mundane side. I would prefer to stay the Eternally Illustrious Madame Zupinski here in town. I think it would be better for business.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I said, and I left. The visit wasn’t too progressive for my dreams, but I didn’t want to exhaust Madame Zupinski - Elizabeth. I needed her psychic powers too much. Plus, I really did like her, and since she had trusted me, I thought even more highly of her. I’ll go back tomorrow.

“Oh dear.” Kathryn said out loud to herself. She was in a horse drawn carriage that was charging at top speed towards a castle in the distance. It was freezing out, and her velvet cloak didn’t do much to keep her warm.

Kathryn was wearing a green dress that looked somewhat like a princess dress. That made since, because she was a princess. Her chin length hair was covered by a snood, and how she knew that it was called a snood, she could not say.  Her breath was coming out in clouds, freezing clouds, and Kathryn clutched her cloak around her more tightly.  The carriage was almost at the castle now. With a jolt, she recognized it. In the back of her mind, she could remember being there before, and not having a pleasant experience. She was busy trying to remember when she had been to the dreary looking castle when the carriage pulled to a halt. 

“This is as far as we go highness.” A man’s voice said as the door to Kathryn’s left swung open. “We will return for you tomorrow morning. Enjoy your stay at castle,” The horse at the front of the carriage whinnied loudly, cutting off the man’s sentence. Kathryn stepped out of the carriage, intending to ask the man to repeat himself and then return back to the safe interior. The second her foot hit the gravel path though, the man cracked the reins and took off, leaving Kathryn standing at the gate of the castle she knew she should be terrified of.

A doorman opened the heavy sounding oak and iron front entrance door to the castle within seconds after Kathryn was left at the front gate. “Mistress Kathryn?” He called out to her. “Are you going to come inside or would you prefer to catch your death out here in the cold?” If the comment was supposed to be polite, it missed by a few levels.

It was cold though. Very cold. Between fighting the woods that this Princess Kathryn knew were lurking just out of sight and the possible dangers regarding the castle that were only lurking in Kathryn’s mind, she chose the castle. “I’m coming!” She called to the doorman, catching him right as he was closing the door with a loud squeak. He held it open for her as she raced into the castle hoping for some warmth.

The halls were lit by torches inside. The doorman shut the door with a clang behind Kathryn, and walked a little ahead of her in the passageway. “Are you expecting to see her now?” He asked.

It was quite possible that he expected Kathryn to know what he was talking about, but she didn’t have a clue. “See who?” She asked. The torches on the walls were throwing disconcerting shadows everywhere, making it hard to focus on any one point in the hall.

“Your host of course!” He sounded insulted. Kathryn was still confused as she could not seem to find the names of her hosts anywhere in her mind or her memory.

“My host?” The doorman stopped at a heavy door with an iron knocker on the right side of the hall. “Who is my host?” Kathryn asked.

The doorman sighed dramatically, but kept the cold polite tone in his voice. “I’ll let her explain to you, princess, if you don’t know what you are doing here. Heaven knows, I’m just the doorman. What could I possibly know about anything?” And with that remark he lifted the heavy iron knocker and banged it against the door three times.

To Kathryn, the door didn’t sound like heavy wood. It almost sounded like crystal or glass. But before she could ponder this oddity much longer, a voice rang out from behind the door.

“Who is it?” It was a woman’s voice, and it sounded cruel and unforgiving. There was no light on the doorman’s face, so Kathryn could not see his expression. The way that he physically recoiled though, gave her the impression that this woman frightened him a great deal.

“It’s the princess Kathryn. I know you wanted to see her, but she doesn’t seem to have any recollection of why. Are you sure you invited her?” He glanced hastily at Kathryn, who did her best not to look both afraid and insulted.

“Do you think that I invited her?”

After a few glances her way, he turned back to the door and shouted through it once again. “I am fairly sure you did mistress!” He said. “She came here in a carriage and the driver, at least, seemed to know what he was doing.”

The sigh that came from behind the thick door had to have been done rather loudly indeed for both Kathryn and the door man to have heard it. “Fine then. Give me a moment. Carl, you may leave. Princess,” The word was almost said with scorn, “Do not enter until I open the door.”

There was a small amount of shuffling from the closed off room before the door swung open. The woman who, Kathryn presumed, had been speaking quickly arranged her oddly familiar face into a hospitable and slightly patronizing expression.

“Hello princess.” The woman said as she stepped aside to let Kathryn into the room. The roaring fire in the fireplace was a welcome sight, and the room was quite cheery, much unlike the rest of the castle. The woman closed the door behind Kathryn and sat down in a throne like chair beside the fire.

“Please sit.” The woman adjusted her extremely fancy black and white dress and gestured towards a smaller, but still comfortable looking, armchair for Kathryn. Kathryn sat down immediately, glad to be warming up. “Now, tell me why you are here Kathryn.” The woman said this kindly, but it had a sort of a challenge to it.

“To be honest, I have know idea. I don’t know what I am doing here, and I am sorry to say that I do not know who you are.” Kathryn sounded like an idiot.

The woman laughed slightly. “Poor child. For some odd reason I thought you knew that you were coming here. When I watched you get out of the carriage that brought you it seemed like you recognized my palace.”

“I may have recognized it, but I do not know why. Forgive my ignorance.”

“Ignorance is allowed in small amounts.” The woman settled into her throne and began. “My name is Queen Hannah the Cold and everyone does what I say. Some people don’t know that they are doing what I say, but I decree mostly everything and someone always does it. That is just the way life works, and if someone doesn’t like it, there are very few other places to go. That’s my personal philosophy. Or, it would be, if I suddenly decided to have a philosophy.” Kathryn was already confused. What did philosophies have to do with anything that was going on? Nonetheless, Queen Hannah the Cold plowed on, not to be interrupted.

“I have lived in this castle for a very long time, and I like it here. It’s cold just like my name. No one ever comes around, and whenever they do, they always (well usually, we still have yet to find out about you) have a purpose for being here. Sometimes I like ruining their dreams right away, but most of the time I try to be a benevolent or at least fair ruler.”

The queen had lost her cold high and mighty attitude and was now rambling like an excited child. Kathryn could do nothing but nod and wonder. “You are a special case though. I was told by the psychic who lives a few miles to the south that I should invite you. And who am I to argue with psychics? Have you ever spoken to a psychic. Where are you from?” The last two questions sounded demanding, and Kathryn didn’t want to disappoint the queen, but she was sure her answers would do just that.

“I don’t believe I have ever spoken to a psychic before. And, strangely enough, I am having difficulty remembering where I am from. Now that I think about it, it seems like I woke up from some dream on the carriage ride over here, and I can’t remember a single thing about myself. I must admit that when I arrived at this castle I hoped someone here would know what was going on.”

Queen Hannah the Cold narrowed her eyes angrily. “Don’t you dare blame me for not knowing what you are doing!” She growled. “I am the queen here, and you are my guest. I was talking to you.”

“But you asked me a question!” Kathryn pointed out desperately. This woman was getting weirder by the second, and somewhere in her uncooperative memory she seemed to remember meeting someone like her.

“Did I really? Oh, I suppose I did. I’m sorry Kathryn. Living all alone with only those insufferable servants does make one rather irritable.”

“I suppose so.” Kathryn now regarded this Queen as somewhat of a lunatic, but she wasn’t about to let that slip out of her mouth. “Will you go on your majesty?”

“I’ll be asking the politely hospitable questions in this castle thank you very much! And yes, I will go on. By the way, Queen is a good enough title for now I should think. It gives me the proper amount of respect, but it doesn’t take all together that much time to say. Now I go on! You watch me go on!” The woman was shouting now. It was ridiculous almost to the point of hilarity. It was so ridiculous in fact, that Kathryn woke up.

December 6
I was at that castle again, and I think the older Hannah was there again. At least I didn’t die this time. One really odd thing is that I didn’t remember the castle when I was there in the dream. And I was a princess. What is up with that? I was never into princess stories or princess costumes or anything relatively princess like when I was young. My mind confuses itself.
Today, after school, I am going to try and get Hannah to come with me to Madame Zupinski’s. I doubt she will do it, since she hasn’t spoken to me aside from the usual “What is our homework today?” thing for nearly a week, but it’s worth a try. She is the one who suggested seeing a psychic after all, even if that psychic did not turn out to be as mysterious as originally assumed. Maybe she will be able to figure out why Hannah is a crazed queen in my dreams or why she always appears as older.

Later the same day
Hannah blatantly refused. She barely spoke, but when I asked her if she wanted to come with me, she said, “No I don’t. I don’t want to go see any psychic. Why are you suggesting it back to me? I don’t take psychics seriously!” She was getting very upset, and I was really confused. I have known Hannah for over three years and she very rarely gets mad at me. You go to your psychic and tell her all about me if you want!” She yelled. It was catching a few people’s attention. “Maybe she can figure out how you should live your life for you!”

Hannah ran off to catch her bus, leaving me standing alone, extremely confused. Something was wrong. Very wrong, and I felt to need to make it not quite so wrong again. Ever since these damn dreams started my life has been so weird. I need to get to the bottom of this. 

I got to Madame Zupinski’s around two hours later. It was so cold that I had to stop home first and put on a sweater under my coat and over my tee shirt. It wasn’t snowing today, but I could feel the cold making my bones stiff and creaky. I felt old, oddly enough. But eventually I got to the tea shop/psychic domain and went inside, breathing in the warm scents of many different teas. 

“I thought we would try a new kind of tea today.” Elizabeth said from the small table. “The kind I made is from India, and I think you will find it quite regenerating.” This time, no strange colored steam rose from the tea, it was a lightly woody color. It still smelled delicious so I gladly took the cup and sat down.

We talked for a while over the tea. I learned about how Elizabeth learned she was a psychic, what kind of things she could read, all of the interesting clients she had seen as “Madame Zupinski.” I talked about living with Lily and Rod, school, stuff like that. Then I brought up Hannah, not giving her name out of courtesy, and how odd she was acting. I did mention that Hannah was the Queen in the castle that I had been dreaming of lately. Elizabeth was just going to get her tarot cards when a knock sounded on the door from outside.

It was the man who had upset Elizabeth so much before. He looked impatient, or maybe just cold. He knocked again, louder this time. Elizabeth turned around to answer the door, and froze when she saw him. She put the Tarot cards back in the drawer and said to me, “Kathryn, I need to see this customer. I’m sorry to cut our session short, but would you mind coming back tomorrow?”

“Elizabeth, who is that man?” I asked. She glanced through the glass door nervously. “Why do you act so nervous when he is around?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, trying to mask the waver in her voice with indignation. “When have you seen me act nervous before?”

“He was here a few days ago, the day I fell asleep in your chair and had the dream about dancing with the shadow man. You were talking to him in the back room.”

Elizabeth shook her head urgently. “I don’t know what on earth you are talking about Kathryn. Please come again tomorrow. I’m sorry about this.” She ushered me out the door into the freezing cold and stepped aside for the man to come in. “This had better not take long.” I heard her whisper to him before she shut the door.

Tomorrow, I am going to find out who that man was. I don’t like it when Elizabeth gets so nervous, and it may seem selfish but I don’t like how he always ruins my talks with her when it seems like we are finally going to figure something out. He seems to be like bad luck, and I intend to find out who he is.

Man, right now I feel like some really lame excuse for a detective. But I don’t care. Maybe I do care too much.

Kathryn saw the leopard in the tree and stood still as a statue. The giant cat looked bigger than normal, and it was directly ahead of her. She gripped her machete tightly, knowing that it would do no good in an attack. Maybe this trip into the jungle hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Kathryn struggled to remember what she had been taught in the information session. Don’t turn your back on an animal that would consider you a snack. She kept her front to the leopard and began to inch to the side. She wished she had another pair of eyes. She had to keep on switching her attention from the giant cat to where she was going. The jungle really was a dangerous place, far too dangerous for her liking.

When the leopard growled and got up, stretching, from it’s resting place on the tree branch, Kathryn froze again. This was positively terrifying. Practically moving an inch an hour, she began to creep to the side, not taking her eyes of the huge animal slowly advancing in her direction.

The leopard leapt from the tree with a quiet but still intimidating roar. Kathryn wrenched her eyes away and began racing at top speed through the jungle’s undergrowth, feeling stupider and more frightened by the second. Of course the cat could out run her! In fact, she could hear it inches away from her, tearing through everything in it’s path. Why had she run? Why??? Frustration and helplessness engulfed her as she stumbled over a root. Now she was crawling, trying her hardest to right herself and keep on running. But when Kathryn pulled herself up, using a tree branch as leverage, the first step she took sent her plummeting.

The quicksand was getting in her nose and mouth, a result of the initial gasp she had stupidly given when her feet didn’t find a hard surface to land on. Kathryn tried to hold her breath, and spread her arms and legs out, trying to slow her fall. Why though? No one was going to save her. No one even knew that she was in the jungle. Then her lungs began to burn. She tried to swim upward, but the sand was not as forgiving as water. Her limbs became heavy and her head started to swim as she slowed to a stop and began to sink. It was an extremely uncomfortable feeling, the sinking, but nothing in comparison to the fire in her lungs. She was about to pass out as she felt herself going faster through the sand. 

The instant Kathryn gave up on life and released her breath she fell out of the quicksand. Fresh air surrounded her and she gulped it up as fast as she could. This was a bad plan, as the mix of air and sand in her throat made her cough uncontrollably. She grabbed onto the grass at her knees, hacking and gasping, and yet still inconceivably relieved. When she finished coughing, Kathryn stood up to see where she had miraculously fallen. She saw herself surrounded by several miniature ponies, who had stopped grazing to look at her, adorably confused. Then Kathryn smelled it. The sea. How had she ended up by the sea? It didn’t make any sense, but she was on a foggy grey island surrounded my miniature ponies.

The ponies began to laugh at her, a chortling, giddy sound that made Kathryn laugh too. She through herself down on the ground amongst the ponies and the lot of them laughed until they could laugh no more.

December 7th.
Finally! A dream that I can remember well enough to look up the symbols once again. It started out very scary, and ended with miniature ponies laughing? Extremely confusing. But that’s quite alright with me! Into the dream interpretations we go...

The Complete Dream Book

Quicksand: A dream of being slowly engulfed in quicksand is a portent of difficulties which can be overcome only by heroic treatment. It foretells quarrels with a lover, or with someone you esteem highly.

Oddly enough, I can’t find anything about leopards, miniature ponies, or laughter in the dream diary. I will have to ask Elizabeth about them when I go back to the shop today. I promised myself that I would never look up my dreams in the morning, but I seem to have broken that rule, as I write in this diary almost every morning. Most of the time by nightfall I have forgotten all of the important elements of my dreams. Oh well. At least it’s the weekend today. That is good for two reasons. One, I can stay at the psychic shop longer without worrying about too much, even though I do have a lot of homework to do. School seems to have gone down a few notches on my priority list. That probably isn’t too fabulous, since these weird dreams are just in my head and school is in the tangible world. 

The second good reason is me not seeing Hannah for two days, and giving her time to cool off. I don’t know what has been up with her lately, but it’s making me so confused that I almost want to forget about it. But a psychic is not a good enough reason to separate friends. Not a good reason at all. 

I think that Lily and Rob are fighting. This isn’t that much of a big deal for me, it’s not like Rob is my dad, but it still makes it a bit uncomfortable at home. They never fight in my presence, I guess Lily doesn’t want me to know, but I can tell. Everything is so tense, and Rob is rarely ever home. I feel bad, because I have been spending so much time away from home as well. Of course, I don’t feel bad enough to get in the middle of their problems. I may be nosy and curious, but I know when not to interfere. 

Lately, I have been thinking that I might want to get a job at “Madame Zupinski’s.” I could use the extra money, and working would give my mind something to do other than dwell on these dreams. I’ll ask Elizabeth about it today. Maybe I’ll even learn how to make Farrendian. 
Later That Day

I got the job! Elizabeth was happy to have me, and the pay is decent. I’m really excited.. My first day is tomorrow after school.

In other news, we went over my dream diary this afternoon. She read all of my interpretations of the symbols I have been dreaming of and gave me some advise. 

“It’s obvious that there is one message you are constantly getting.” Elizabeth said as we were drinking the Indian tea together.

I frowned. “Is there?” I asked. “I haven’t noticed one.”

“That’s because I am trained in this and you are not. If you could interoperate cosmic signs all by yourself, you wouldn’t need me. And think how depressing that would be for both of us.” Elizabeth smiled as she said this and circled some things in my diary. “Someone close to you is either not as they seem or not themselves lately. Can you think of who this might be?”

I could. Hannah. I said so. Elizabeth just smiled knowingly. “A friend of yours. One of your best friends.” It wasn’t a question.

“Did you know that because you are a psychic?” I asked, intrigued by her sudden knowledge on the matter.

“No. I knew it because you write about her in your diary.” Elizabeth sighed. “If you are going to let someone read your diary, I would suggest that you not write things in it you don’t want anyone to know. Like the ‘strange man’ you keep on writing about. And how worried you are about me. I can read, I know what you are thinking.” The look on her face didn’t show anger, which was a comfort. I had forgotten that I let her read my diary when I write my opinions in it. I’ll have to remember that from now on.

“As for the psychic business,” Elizabeth continued, a lot of being a ‘psychic’ is just paying a lot of attention to everything. Having good observation skills. That’s why most psychics have that floaty out there attitude. To throw their customers off. I think I do rather well, don’t you?”


“You do indeed.” I agreed. Then I decided to try my luck to it’s best advantage, if it had any advantage at all. “Since you know what I think about that man who makes you nervous,” Elizabeth began to protest but I kept on going, “can you please tell me who he is? I’m curious, I’m always curious about everything.”

Elizabeth scowled a little bit, but finally gave in. “His name is Isaac, and he is my son.” This was quite a shock to me. I had thought that maybe he was a bad customer or something like that. It had never occurred to me that he could be a relation of some sort.

“Why do you always seem so upset when you speak with him? And why was it that on the first day I saw you with him you were showing him a tarot card and you looked afraid?” I figured that honesty was the best policy at a time like this. After all, she probably read about me seeing them already.

“Isaac doesn’t really believe in any of this psychic business.” She explained, after taking a long sip of her tea. “He thinks it’s all a ploy. That’s why he won’t listen to me when I sense something is going to go wrong for him. He is twenty three years old and has the problems of someone my age.”

“What kind of problems.” This was probably too nosey, but I was interested.

“The kind of problems that do not concern you at this time.” She stood up and took the tray with the empty tea things into the back room. When she came back she said, “I am sure that when you start working here tomorrow you will figure out the problems for your own. I don’t see a reason why I should tell you.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Never be sorry for curiosity Kathryn. If it weren’t for human curiosity I would not have a job to speak of. Now, let me show you what you will be doing while you work here...” Elizabeth showed me the ropes of the store. Obviously, I would not be doing psychic readings. Instead, I am going to schedule appointments, make tea, and deal with customers. The dealing with customers I am a little worried about, but these skills need to be learned someday. We talked about my dreams a little more, and what signs to look for, and then I left.

I told Lily that I have started working at a tea shop. It’s true enough, and she isn’t interested enough in tea to come looking for the place anytime soon. I feel bad keeping things from her, but I don’t want to be laughed at. Not by her too.

Kathryn was being given a grand tour of the secret facility building. The woman leading her around was pointing to different machines and rooms, explaining how inordinately important and expensive they were. Her black hair was in a tight bun, almost plastered to her head. She wore a highly impressive business skirt suit, and stiletto shoes. 

“This is where we listen to everything that is going on. Those headsets cost nearly one thousand dollars each. Don’t touch them tomorrow, on your first day here.”  Click.  click.  click.  click. “In this room we keep the prototypes of all the machines we might eventually use. I can let you look, but unless you eventually get trained, you are forbidden to touch anything.”  Click, click. Click, click. 

The woman, whose name tag Kathryn had just noticed read “Jessica, Personnel” walked up to the metal doors of the prototype room and slid her name tag across a laser reader. “Welcome, Jessica.” A cool male voice intoned. The doors slid open with a whooshing sound to reveal a large room where thousands of computer like sounds immediately met Kathryn’s ears.

A twenty something year old man stepped out from behind what looked like a soda dispenser. He had goggles pushed up onto his forehead, they looked like fighter pilot goggles. They tousled his dark hair. Kathryn immediately remarked, in her head thankfully, on how attractive this made him look. 

When the young man spoke, he had a British accent. “Hullo Jessica!” He said brightly, pulling off the large engineering gloves that were on his hands. “Are you giving a tour? New recruit?”

Jessica nodded curtly. “I am. This is...” She turned to Kathryn, in order to check the visitor name tag. “This is Kathryn. She will be working in records.”

The man winced, and Kathryn paled. Were records that bad? But then the man’s face regained it’s boyish charm. “Glad to meet you Kathryn.” He shook her hand. “I’m Colin. I fix the prototypes when the break down. Which, I’m sorry to say, has been happening increasingly frequently.” He shot a look at Jessica, who glared back. 

“You will be working with Colin for the time being.” Jessica explained to Kathryn curtly. 

“Wait... I thought I was not allowed to touch any...” Kathryn began, but Jessica cut her off.

“You will be working in records. It’s just paper. But Colin is your boss. I’ll leave you here, you won’t need to see anything else.” Jessica exited quickly, the sliding doors whooshing closed on the sound of her clicking heels.

Collin shakes his head after Jessica as she leaves. “What a bitch.” He laughs, then turns to me. “Sorry, I forgot we were hiring younger people now. So many people quit last month that we have been taking on highschool students to do the easier jobs.” He dons the heavy leather gloves once again, and walks over to the soda machine that he was working on earlier.

“What am I going to do here?” Kathryn asked, following Collin to the machine. He was muttering a steady stream of swears in a heavy accent, trying to fix a sparking wire with pliers. The goggles were back over his eyes, obstructing his view of Kathryn. Suddenly, the sparks flew even higher, and Collin dropped his pliers and started to kick the machine.

“BACK FROM WHENCE YOU CAME, DEVIL MACHINERY!” He shouted, and gave a final mighty kick. The machine made the sound of a dying vulture, and then the sound of a chainsaw, and then no sound at all. Collin stuck his head around from the back of it and faced Kathryn. “What was that you said?” He asked. The sparks had made his forehead black, and when he took off the goggles once again he looked like a reversed raccoon. Kathryn giggled, but stopped herself.

“I was wondering what my job is going to be like? What am I supposed to do? Jessica mentioned something about paperwork.” There was not much paperwork to be found in the prototype room. Collin picked up the pliers and came around from the back, looking exhausted.

“You are going to do the records. It is quite possibly the most mind numbing, excruciating, dry, and bloody boring on the planet earth, but someone’s got to do it.” He showed Kathryn to a small door that lead into an office only a little larger than a closet. Papers were strewn everywhere. “It’s a bit of a mess, the last person left in a rush. Rotten bastard.”

Kathryn kicked some of the papers around, and sat down in the chair by a small, proportionally small desk. From there, she could see a television screen with a black and white static covered picture on it. She couldn’t quite make it out. Collin saw her looking at the screen.

“Oh yes. That’s the slightly interesting part of the job.” He reached up to fiddle with the dials on the side of the TV. “While you are doing paperwork, and sorting, and other such homely activities, you get to monitor screen...B.” He had checked the back of the television for the letter.  When he replaced it on the shelf, the screen cleared up.

“There, that did the trick!” But Kathryn could barely hear him, the drop in her stomach was too sudden and overwhelming. There, on the screen, was a setting she remembered. The nightmarish feeling came over her as she recognized the iron gates and dead plants of the castle garden. The garden and castle wall that was being monitored was bathed in moonlight, and in the moonlight Kathryn could see that the statues were moving.

She backed up, trying to run from the room. Colin glanced at the screen, and then seemed to realize why Kathryn was so frightened. “Oh, that. The statues move around at night. If I were you, I would just be glad that you are safe in a government guarded building. The woman who lives in that castle, she is a bit weird in the head.

Kathryn nodded. She couldn’t speak. When a statue looked through the camera on their end of the screen and met Kathryn’s eyes with it’s own unblinking, white orbs, Kathryn passed out.

December 8th
I must have been worried about working. My dream last night started out all very realistic. This was the first dream I have had in a long time that wasn’t really all that weird, at least in the beginning it wasn’t. A tour of a secret government facility, where I guess I was going to be working. How delightfully mundane! The idea probably came from the fact that I am starting work at Madame Zupinski’s. An idea from real life! I love feeling normal again. In fact, I can remember everything perfectly. It’s almost as if I really went there in my sleep.

But then those statues, they were from Queen Hannah’s castle, I am sure of it. The first time I dreamed of that castle, I saw them in the garden. When I was running. Marble statues, and the moonlight did make them seem to move before. It made their faces show expression, and I was terrified as I ran. But last night they were really moving, it was as if they were alive. Terrifying. That nightmarish feeling where your solar plexus ends up near your feet, it had me so bad. Just when I thought the weirdness was over and done with.

The Complete Dream Book

Working: If, in your dream of working, you appear to be making progress, the portent is a good one for your success. On the other hand, if the work is tedious and unproductive, you will suffer a disappointment.
In my dream, Collin said that the work was boring, but it was pretty exciting during the dream. A bit too exciting maybe. I guess this interpretation works for any situation. 

Statues: If a statue of marble is seen in a dream , there will be a prolonged period of indifference on the part of your beloved.
That’s good to know, I’ll make sure to remember this if any sort of “beloved” enters my life.

My first real day of work at Madame Zupinski’s is today! I hope it won’t be as traumatic as my first day of work in that dream. I leave in an hour. But right now, I am going to eat breakfast. Lily wanted me to eat with her a few days ago, and I never did. I don’t want her to think I have been avoiding her, since I think that Rob has. I’ll ask Elizabeth to take a peek into the “cosmic world” today. Maybe she can figure out why they have been fighting.

Later That Day
I got to Madame Zupinski’s early this morning, and I had butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t know why I was nervous, since I knew Elizabeth well, and I wasn’t going to be doing anything really difficult. Maybe it’s because the only other job I have had was at the library, and that didn’t even count as a job. 

Madame Zupinski had a new client, or one I had never seen at least, when I got inside, so I stomped the snow off my boots and went to the back room. I hung up my winter coat next to Elizabeth’s long spangled cloak and changed into my work shoes. The voices of Elizabeth and her client were muted, but I could tell that Elizabeth had the Madame Zupinski act up. I peeked through the beaded curtain separating the two rooms and watched them. A middle aged woman with harsh red lipstick and platinum blonde hair was sitting in the visitor’s cushion. She had an expensive looking purse, and an enthralled look scrawled all over her excessively made up facial features.

“Listen to your husband, try to understand what he is saying to you.” Elizabeth told the woman, waving her hands around in air for dramatic effect. The woman nodded, transfixed. “I see a mutual understanding in your future, but you have to be the first to back down. Your husband is waiting for you to make the first move.”

“He is?” The woman asked. She sounded amazed that a psychic could figure this out. I had to giggle, so I ducked behind the curtain and laughed. I had never seen a forty something woman look so childish.

“Yes, he is. Go home, pour him some wine, and have a romantic candle lit dinner. By the end of the night, he will open up to you.” Elizabeth patted the woman sympathetically on the shoulder and offered more tea. 

“No tea, thank you.” The woman said. “I’ll just pay and go home. Thank you so much Madame Zupinski. I don’t know what I would have done left to my own devices. How much do I owe you?”

Elizabeth pulled out a rather old fashioned calculator and started punching in figures with her painted thumbnails. “Twenty Four dollars. Would you like to buy any tea? It’s twenty percent off if you buy after a reading, you know.”

“No tea, thank you. Here is your check.” The woman lay a check on the table, signed it hurriedly, thanked Elizabeth once again, and left. 

Elizabeth chuckled as she put the check into the cash register. “You can come out now Kathryn!” She called, shutting the cash register with a snap. “I’m assuming you were watching?”

“I was. I’m sorry, but she was so enthralled. You really do have an impressive act.”

Elizabeth smiled to herself but tried to hide it. “Thank you. But, to be fair, she was desperate for good news. I just gave her a push in the right direction, and she will make everything better for herself.” Elizabeth looked up sharply, as if she had just remembered something. “I must ask you not to repeat anything you hear or see in here. Client confidentiality, I’m sure you would understand.”

I did understand, so I really hope that no one reads my diary except for me and you, Elizabeth. But trust me, I will guard it well. I don’t usually trust people, it’s amazing that I trust Elizabeth enough to let her read my future and tell my fortune and all other personal things like that.

“Thank you. So, lets get down to business. For most of the time, I would like you to sit behind the check out counter. That’s where the appointment book is, the cash register, the accounting books, everything you will work with is. If things have quieted down and you need something to do, feel free to make up some more pots of tea or to read some of the books I have in the back room. You may find some of the books quite interesting, some of them deal with dreams.”

I settled into the chair behind the cash register and looked into the appointment book. It was 11:30 am, and Elizabeth had a woman coming in at noon. It’s funny, a lot of women go to psychics, but you rarely see a man tell his problems to a fortune teller. I wonder why that is.  “You have a lady coming in half an hour from now.” I told Elizabeth, as she was taking off her turban. “Do you want me to make some tea for the two of you?”

“What is the woman’s name?” Elizabeth asked. She looked into the reflection of one of the many mirrors decorating the shop. Frowning at her reflection, she tried to smooth out her long black hair. Giving up, she just put the turban back on.

“Peg Peterson.”

“Okay. Brew up some chamomile tea. It’s in the third cabinet to the left as you walk in the door to the back room.”  I went through the beads into the back room. Behind me, the little plastic moons and stars clacked together. Three cabinets to the left. I opened the appropriate doors. Instead of boxes of tea, I saw a crystal ball, tarot cards, and a black satchel with the draw string tightly tied.

“Are you sure it’s the third cabinet to the left?” I called out to Elizabeth, who was fluffing the cushions and humming some sort of Arabian song to herself. “I don’t see any tea here!”

“Did I say left? Sorry Kathryn. I meant the third cabinet to the right. I walked across the room and sure enough there were boxes and boxes of tea. Tea bags, loose tea leaves, strainers, everything that has to do with tea. I found the box marked chamomile, and opened it up. It was a very old looking box, almost as if it had come off a tea trading boat some hundreds of years ago. The scent of chamomile and roses rose up. I picked a tea bag, I didn’t really feel like steeping loose tea leaves. In fact, I’m not even sure if I know how to use loose tea leaves.

I heard the bells chime signaling the entrance of somebody right as the tea was coming to a boil. I could hear Elizabeth greeting somebody, her floaty mystical air back in a flash. It sounded like another emotionally distraught, middle aged woman. I put the tea things on a tray, making sure they matched perfectly, and went to the front room. Peg Peterson had short brown hair, and looked a little more practical than the blonde woman. 

I put the tea tray on the table where Elizabeth and Peg were sitting. Peg looked at me, she seemed suspicious. “What’s this?” She asked, gesturing towards the tea. I noticed that she had the slightly red eyed look of someone who had been crying. She sniffled a bit.

I looked to Elizabeth, hoping that she would explain. For some reason, I didn’t want to have to explain about the tea, as simple as it was. Elizabeth looked pointedly back at me. “Chamomile tea.” I said, rattling it out rather quickly. “Do you like chamomile? I could get a different kind if you would like.” 

Peg smiled a little bit. “Chamomile is fine. Thanks.” She put her purse and her coat to the side and settled into the cushion. I made a hasty retreat to the back room. This woman looked so sad and upset that I didn’t want to make her nervous about talking to Elizabeth. Madame Zupinski, as Peg must have assumed, was very understanding. After several minutes of exchanging pleasantries, Elizabeth came to the back room to get her crystal ball. 

“I’m sorry I was so nervous out there.” I whispered to her as she was going through the beads. “I probably freaked that lady out within her first four minutes here.”

Elizabeth shook her head, resulting in her turban falling forward on her head. She handed me the crystal ball while she readjusted it. “You did fine.” She whispered back, taking the crystal ball. “Come out again in ten minutes or so to refill the teapot, and then at the end when she checks out. Don’t worry so much, Kathryn. I know you will do well. I’m a psychic.”

I really do like Elizabeth. She makes everything seem better. In ten minutes, or probably more like fifteen, I refilled the teapot without any terrible accidents, and when I heard Elizabeth and Peg wrapping up their conversation, I went to the cash register.

“That will be fifteen dollars Madame Zupinski, am I correct?” I punched in the numbers, ready to collect the cash. Peg started digging in her purse, and pulled out a ten and a five. When she started to hand them to me, when Elizabeth put a hand on her wrist to stop her.

“Lets make it ten dollars for today. I don’t believe I helped as much as I should have. Please, come back soon and I’ll give you another reading for half price.”

Peg Peterson looked shocked. “On the contrary, I think you helped me a great deal Madame Zupinski.” It was probably true. The woman did not sound nearly as miserable as she had when she came in the shop, and her face looked a lot cheerier. Nonetheless, Elizabeth pushed the five back into Peg’s hand.

“Ten will do for today. Come back soon!” She thrust the ten at me, and ushered Peg Peterson to the door while I tried to figure out how to open the cash register. It wouldn’t work. The drawer would bing, but not slide. I must have sounded like an idiot, ringing the cash register over and over, but it was being impossible. Once the woman had left, Elizabeth showed me the trick to opening it. (I will not disclose the trick here. On the rare chance that my diary is read, I don’t think that anyone should learn how to open Elizabeth’s cash register.)

“I’m a wreck.” I wailed a few minutes later, sinking into the cushion. It seems that I may have picked up Elizabeth’s flair for drama. “I made a complete idiot of myself!”

Elizabeth sat down too, and poured herself another cup of tea from the pot still on the table. “Stop that!” She commanded to me. “You did fine! You should have seen me when I first decided to open up a shop, back when I lived in the city. I was shaking so hard. Much to my good fortune, however, people thought that the shaking was me having premonitions. It actually helped with business.” She took another sip of her tea.

“Why did you only charge the Peg lady ten dollars?” I asked. It had confused me a lot. “Did you really not read that well?” It seemed to me that Peg had thought Elizabeth helped her a lot.

“No, no. That’s not it at all. The thing is, she had real problems, problems that actually mean something. These days, people like to come complaining about how the don’t think their spouse loves them or that their boss is being mean. There are simple solutions to problems like that. Those people could fix their problems themselves, so I don’t give them a discount. I call it a dependancy tax. They depend on other people to tell them how to live their lives. They trust a psychic, for heaven’s sake, to read their future for them!” Elizabeth shook her head, disgusted. “When people come in with real problems, problems that I really do need to work on, I consider it my duty to help. That’s why I’m not charging you. That and, I just like you. You enjoy my tea.”

I laughed with Elizabeth and got myself a teacup from behind the checkout desk. “You think my problems are worth working on?” I asked, feeling a lot better about myself already.

“I do. I think that these dreams mean something a lot bigger than either you or I could possibly imagine. This is why I don’t charge you. I think that, by helping you interoperate your strange subconscious, that I am helping more than one person.”

This brought up a good opening for me to talk about what was going on at home. I told Elizabeth about Lily and Rod, about how I thought they were fighting. “They never tell me or fight in front of me,” I explained, “But I can tell. They are hardly in the same room together, and Rod stays at work very late.” I wasn’t going to complain, Rob working more meant more money for the three of us, but I feel bad for both him and Lily. “They are the closest things I have for parents, and they give me more freedom than any parent would. I don’t want them to do something they will regret.”

“I think...I think that you should let them figure this out for themselves.” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. I raised my voice to argue, but she held up a hand to stop me. “You should let them work this out on their own, they are adults, they can handle themselves. However, I do not agree with them keeping everything under wraps. As we can clearly see, it is not helping you a great deal. They should tell you what is going on, you can handle it.” She looked at me as if appraising me. “You can handle this, can’t you?”

“I can.” And I really can. If I feel any more weird tension today, I am going to talk to Lily. Or Rod. I am going to talk to someone, because I hate being in the dark.

For the rest of the afternoon, Elizabeth and I just talked as though we were old friends. She did read my dream diary, and go over a few things with me, but nothing that would change anything. I told her that nothing had really happened with Hannah over the weekend. I don’t want to have to deal with her issues right now. I am feeling fine, even with these weird dreams. I have a great new job and I feel like maybe, someday soon, things will start to make more sense.