Swapping Spirits

           “So, what’s the catch?” Bix followed Sienna out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. They straightened the bed together. “I don’t see how you can take this curse off me without me having to go through a trial or make a sacrifice.”

           She shook her head and chuckled. “You watch too many movies.”

           “I’m serious, Sienna. I see how powerful you are. You go into people’s heads and do some kind of cranial clean up. People are changed.”

           “And have you ever seen me put anyone through a trial or make a sacrifice?”

“I don’t know if they gave up some memories or you blocked their reality to give them peace.” His voice broke. “I don’t want to lose my mind.”

 “You worried about that before you ever knew me.“

“How do you know that? You’re reading me right now, aren’t you.”

“No! Give me credit for being able to figure that out after four years of being with you.” Regretting her harsh tone, she went to him and took his hands in hers. “It hurts my heart to see you struggling, Bix. You thinking I would do anything at a price to you hurts me more.”

Bix pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t.” She pulled back to look at him. “Are the headaches getting worse? ”

He shook his head. “Just more frequent. Worse after…uh… psychic events.”

“Want to tell me about these psychic events? ”

“No, but I need to. I hate this shit. When you told me I had little magics inside me, I thought I’d know who was calling before I picked up the phone. I wasn’t expecting to become a goddamned emotional chameleon.” He rubbed his forehead with two fingers.

  Sienna sat on the bed. “The word is empath, and I can show you how to shield yourself. But you have a lot more gifts than that, don’t you?”

He paced in front of her. “Sometimes I get sticky daydreams in my head. Everything else disappears for a minute. When they come true, I get nauseated. If they are bad, I feel like I need to say something or do something, but I’m afraid to. Sienna stayed silent as his eyes filled. He sat on the bed beside her and took her hand and took a few deep breaths.

           “What are you afraid of, Sweetheart.”

He thought for a moment. “Making an ass of myself. Being wrong. Looking crazy. Someone getting hurt because I did nothing.” He hesitated before his next disclosure. “Sometimes when I’m worried about something, I’m afraid thinking about it will make it happen.”

“It’s all new to you. Your doubts are normal for anyone just starting out. Gratitude comes later. I can walk you through it.”

“I don’t want you in my head. You already own so much of me.”

Her eyes burned at that rejection, but she persisted. “Then ask one of your witchy aunts to help you with your gifts. ”

“Gifts? Really? It’s a curse.” He winced at his own shout.

“Come here.” She patted the bed. “Let’s take care of that headache. I promise not to do anything else.”

            Bix sighed in resignation then gave her a nod. Sienna settled him with his back against the headboard. “Take a slow breath, then close your eyes and tell me exactly where your head hurts.”

           “Behind my eyes.”

           “What shape is your headache.”

           He didn’t answer right away. “The shape of a dog bone.”

           “What color is it?”

           “Black.”

           “How much does it weigh?

           He paused. “Five pounds.”

           “How much water can it hold?”

           “A gallon.”

           “Is it moving?”

 “No.”

           “You can move it. Imagine little waves in it.” she urged. “Nod when it is moving on its own.” It took less than a minute.

“What color is it now?”

           “Purplish gray”

            Sienna repeated the questions in the same order. By the third repetition, the headache was clear, the size of a pea, and could hold only a drop of water. It was moving, and then it was gone. Bix put his hand on the top of his head, then the crown. Sienna chuckled. “It’s gone, Honey. You can open your eyes.”

             Bix pulled Sienna into his arms as soon as she came into focus. He rested his chin on her head. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick about letting you help me.”

It hurt me, but I never thought you were being a dick.” She looked up at him. “I’m glad if we’re past it.”

“We are.” Bix nuzzled her hair and kissed her forehead. “I don’t need to call anyone else. I want to take this journey with you.”

  Sienna smiled. “When would you like to start your magic management program?”

  Bix didn’t hesitate. “Is tonight too soon?”

At dusk, Bix and Sienna were on the bed, skin to skin. Bix was in her arms nuzzling her neck. Her hand was in his hair. Their legs were tangled together. Bix closed his eyes and surrendered to the comfort of Sienna’s touch. She spoke softly. “Keep your eyes closed and your mind open. Go deeply into yourself. When you feel a change, open your eyes, and tell me what you see.”

Thirty minutes later, Bix whispered, “pink light.” It moved like fog and smelled like roses. He inhaled deeply. “Baby, I see it. It’s going around and through us. I’m buzzing inside.” His eyes fluttered, and he fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, he awoke empowered, enlightened, at peace.

By noon, they were Sienna’s reading room. Bix was struggling to organize his thoughts. Sienna schooled hi. "Magic is like language. Children learn it easily. It is woven into their development. Early trauma stalled the trajectory of your magic, so it has to work its way around. You have to create space for that.”

  “Teach me how?”

“You already know the process. You do it for any project. Envision the outcome, gather information – for you that’s a journal of dreams, intuitions, and coincidences. Put your spirit in the space you create. When you help others, you don’t take anything from them. You lend them your spirit. That’s the trade-off.

Three weeks later, Bix and Sienna were rocking on the glider that was the centerpiece of their front porch.

“Meeeooww.”

  Bix lifted a small, long-haired black cat onto his lap. “There you are, LC.”

 Sienna raised her brows. “Your familiar?”

 Bix nodded. “I think so. He’s here every night.”

“And you named him Elsie?

“No. L…C…” He signed the letters with his thumb and finger. “Little Cat.”

 Sienna stroked LC’s nose. He chirped and purred.

 Bix chuckled. “You have that effect on everyone.”

Sienna took Bix’s face in her hands and rubbed noses with him. “I’ll take care of you later.”

  Bix rubbed his cheek up and down hers and purred.