Unexpected Visitor

Marta looked over the tiny colorful room where she had created a living for herself and daughter the last 15 years.  It was colorful and filled with natural elements, including residual smoke from thousands of smudged sage bundles and patchouli incense sticks spent over the last 15 years.  They cleared the air and space of negative energy, somehow though, their power had run out.  It was a sad day, the cloudy sky reflected her inner turmoil effectively.  Just twenty-four hours from now Marta would be in court defending her business practices, ethics and lifestyle.  It had already bankrupted her business, good legal help isn’t cheap.  

When her daughter was in the second grade, Marta’s small psychic reading business demanded a space grander than her living room. Referral business from existing customers left her neighbors, mother and daughter weary with the sheer amount of people in and out each day.  She searched and searched but found very little that suited her.  Until one day, in the classified section of the Star Tribune, she found it in a smallish suburb a few miles outside of the big city.  The charming main street would be decorated in wreaths and candles over winter, there were festivals in the summer and thriving small businesses, mostly family owned, littered all up and down the quaint street.  Upstairs from a dive bar that celebrated weekly meat raffles, bingo and daily pull tabs and cheap happy hour drinks, Marta’s vision began to literally take concrete form.  She signed the paperwork on the spot and leased for 1 year to start a small store front with a proper front entrance for paying customers and a private back entrance that could service her daughter and mother when they came by.  She fell more and more in love with it as she splashed the walls with ethereal paintings and the shelves with brightly colored stones.

The blondish graying, curly haired petite psychic had read tarot cards all her life and began working with Miss Elliot roughly 6 years ago.  The mature woman who dressed in dark solid colors was well off and could afford to offer her a penance in exchange for peace of mind from her fallen husband and daughter.  Nearly 7 years ago a car crash stole their lives from her.  She had become vacant and empty.  Marta offered her a reprise.  And a new way of seeing things, a place where her loved ones still saw her, communicated with her, and loved her.  There was no doubt she was a shade closer to her old self, happier and healthier because of her weekly visits in the small colorful space with Marta.  In the beginning she labored in every exchange, each word seemed to take more effort.  Her face was somehow gaunt while the rest of her body bulged and stretched her clothing until finally, she started showing up wearing loose and shapeless gowns.  The look completed the downtrodden, loss of hope she wore in her heart.  Still, Marta offered support and saw a beacon of hope in the new dour look.  She saw that after so long, Miss Elliot was beginning to accept her existence and circumstances the way they were.  Despite the drab colors, there was bravery in the billowy house dresses. 

It started a few months ago, with just a whispered warning of danger.  Miss Elliot was so happy she was finally able to face her family again, she could finally tolerate them after years of separation.  Their faces and voices ripped open painful memories of the loss of her daughter and husband.  It brought Miss Elliot into a deep despair, for months it went on.  At first, she surrounded herself with family for support and comfort.  Their voices and presence were a band aid for the pain of the all too quiet and still house that she now occupied alone.  As time went on though, the upturned noses and wide brown eyes were reminders that hinted at her lost soul mates.  Their mannerisms tickled those of her daughter especially and made her freeze from the inside out.   Slowly, she stopped seeing them.  Completely disengaging with them as a sort to protect her from the bleeding tears that followed every phone call and every visit with them.  A great solution, it was not.  A broken heart can not be healed while it continues to be punctured on a regular basis though.  Marta was proud of her work and of Miss Elliot when after just a few years of weekly visits, she was able to be a part of her family again without all the freezing heart break.

As Miss Elliot advanced in age she developed a cancer, highly treatable though.  As she continued through her treatments bravely, her nieces made themselves more and more seen.  They wanted everyone to know they were caring for her.  Marta was quite weary of them.  They seemed to want each ounce of credit possible for each mile driven or each step taken in order to aid Miss Elliot through her doctor appointments.  And then, there were lawyer appointments.  They became meddling, greedy and menacing, dipping their interest in her savings.  They were taken aback to realize how much time, and consequently money was spent with Marta over the years.  Weekly visits for psychic readings would not separate them from an inheritance.  The entitled young adults decided to wage a small war inorder to discredit Marta and recoup what they could of Miss Elliot’s savings.  Marta and the small shop would become roadkill, they were well armoured with legal help and Miss Elliot’s oddly declining health.  The weekly visits slowed and stopped as the woman became grayer, cloudier and slower physically and in conversation.

Marta released her mane of curly hair from the bun atop her head and sat in the middle of the room.  She decided she would meditate while she still could in this room, rich with memories, positivity and healing.  Whether or not it was scientifically proven, clients were much better off after their visits.  She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply, immediately falling into a deep and heavy trance.  Out of a dark corner of her mind she saw a flicker of a light, and the deep voice of a large man, somehow familiar to her.  “Hello Marta, I know this is the first time you’re hearing my voice despite telling Abby otherwise.  You are on the eve of an unfair battle.  I am truly sorry.  I had to let you know that words cannot express the gratitude I have for you taking care of my wife spiritually after my daughter and I left her so many years ago”.  He continued, “My nieces are well armed but I promise to visit you, if you are willing to visit with me, to advise you and help you decide which steps to take as this fight progresses, I will be with you every step of the way”.