At Last

“It smells like my grandmother in here.” Lydia gave the perfume bottle a quick sniff before replacing it amongst the collections of antique glassware cluttering the top of an art deco vanity.

Caro giggled at her friend’s observation. The old thrift store was stuffed full of either trash or treasure depending on your outlook.

Caro chose to see treasure.

She perused the shelves, shifting through the various housewares. It was like browsing through the decades. Here was the scared tin cookware from the 40s beside the varies useless kitchenware of the 50’s with the pickle forks and tiny salt crystal salt cellars. The bright almost vulgar brown and gold flower patterned dishware of the 60’s. She seemed to remember the names of Harvest Gold and Avocado Green and Coppertone. When she came to a collection of salt and pepper shakers, Caro smiled at the pair depicting a couple of painted wooden Dutch children, the girls adorable bonnet with the flips leaned to touch lips with a little boy in blue pantaloons and a cap. It was a bit depressing really. That someone’s prize collection, likely accumulated over years, was now regulated to the dusty shelves of a thrift store.

“Ooo, Look at this.” Lydia turned, holding up one of the bottles from the vanity.

The overhead lights bounced and sparkled off the beautiful cut crystal of the little bottle of perfume. A thin tube ran from its stopper to an intricate threaded bulb ending in a gold tassel.

“Look, it has a pump.” Lydia flicked the golden tassel and shook the bottle. “It still has some stuff in it.”

“I think it’s called an atomizer?” Caro said.

“Wonder if it still smells?” Lydia pondered and pointed the bottle’s spout in Caro’s direction.

“Wait...!”

A spray of perfume caught Caro right in the face, her mouth open in protest and received most of the fine mist.

They faced each in matching wide-eyed shock in the dissipating vapor.

“Caro! I am so sorry!” Lydia reached for her friend.

The smell of the old perfume, sour and metallic, flooded her senses as Caro felt herself falling backwards.

Lydia’s pale face blocked out the shine of the thrift store’s fluorescent lights, and Caro noticed, numbly, how the plastic covering them was brown along the edges. The light flicked around Lydia’s panicked expression like a halo before it started to dim.

Caro felt herself falling again and a weight started in her belly and pulled her through the floor into a swirling blackness.

She could feel the scream in her throat, but there was no sound in the cold void she tumbled through.

Over and over, she swirled through a dizzying array of lights and flashes until a sudden jolt stopped her momentum and knocked the wind from her lungs.

She hung face down in what seemed to be a web of black netting. She could easily see through the gossamer fabric and was alarmed to see she seemed to be suspended from the ceiling of a very strange room. Alarmed she clawed at the netting, but instead of the feel of mesh she had expected, her hands encountered a smooth surface. It didn’t seem to register against her skin, it just held her in place. On the ceiling. It suddenly felt very secure, and Caro calmed, glancing down into the room below.

The room was circular in shape, and completely draped in a heavy deep red velvet.

It was the objects in the room that drew her attention next. Curios and cabinets of all shapes and sizes nestled among the folds of the drapes, the objects inside cased in shadows, while white candles sat alongside oil lamps with frost globes. The lamps and candle were lit but seemed to be for show, because, if she lifted her head Caro could make out what looked like a small chandelier.

And directly under the chandelier, what caught her gaze was the people at the table occupying the very center of the room. An armed chair with a wide arched back was presided in front of a small oval tabletop arranged loosely with the same fabric as the perimeter of the room.

The light revealed a short older woman dressed in the style Caro had seen on fortune tellers at the fairs, Gypsies. Her short waisted torso was worn a tight velvet vest piped with gold and her skirt flowed in an assortment of bright loose colorful scarves. Corse gray curls peeked out from her long black scarf and beneath the band of crystals crossing her brow.

She looked like an ancient queen enthroned as she sat with her eyes closed. The candlelight danced over the crystals at her brow, reflected on the golden hoops in her slightly snagging earlobe and the bangles around her thin wrists where they lay on the chair arms. Cards were fanned out in front of the woman.

In a less ornate chair across from her, sat a man. He was a young man; dapper they would have called him. Very handsome. From his straw boater hat sitting in his lap, to capped toe oxfords on his feed, he expressed wealth and privilege.

He ran a hand over his slicked back black hair, his chest pressed to the rim of the tabletop, “What do the cards say, Madame Hanzi? Does Evelyn Nesbit love me?”

The Madame sighed, her hands hovered over the fanned cards, before she picked a card and turned it over.

From her perch, Caro could make out the image on the card very clearly.

She had never been to the Tarot reading or even a fortune teller for that matter, but the two people entwined on the card seemed a good omen. But It seemed almost too good. The man had asked about love and boom, here was a card for lovers.

“What a setup. She looks like a nice little shyster” Caro said to herself.

Below, Madame Hanzi froze, her covered head bobbed up and Caro was surprised as the old woman looked straight at her.

“Wait! can you see me?”

“Is there a problem, Madame Hanzi?” The young man was leaning over the table, hope shining.

Madame Hanzi shook her head and brought attention back to her client. “No, not at all Mr. Thaw. Just an uninvited guest.”

The young man looked up briefly, but his priority was with the card. “What does it mean?”

“I will be gentle Mr. Thaw.” The old fortune teller began. “But I fear your ladylove does not return your affections.”

Mr. Thaw starred for a long while, his face pale, his jaw slack in dismay.

Caro’s heart went out to the guy. “Poor schmuck.” She mused.

Madame Hanzi let out a huff and looked up, locking eyes with Caro. “Alright. That is enough!”

Caro fussed in the netting, uncomfortable and distressed. “I am sorry.” She started. “Did he hear me? You can see me! Help me. Why am I here.”

At the other end of the table Mr. Thaw had recovered from his disappointing news and sat regarding his hostess. “I beg your pardon.”

“No, he can’t hear you. What is your name?”

“Carolyn. Caro.”

“My name is Harvey, Madame Hanzi, you know that?”

“Are you engaged or married? Carolyn?”

“No.” Caro answered hesitantly.

Harvey sat up and glanced around the room. “Hear who? Madame Hanzi. Who is Carolyn? No matter. Please Madame Hanzi. Evelyn…she doesn't love me?”

Madame Hanzi sighed and faced the broken-hearted young man. “No, I am afraid her heart belongs to another. “

The despairing look was back, but only briefly. The young man surged to his feet, his eyes flashing. “Madame Hanzi. Can you make her love me?”

Caro felt more than saw the fortune teller stiffen at the young man’s question. “Mr. Thaw. I am not known to trade in such practice. A heart is not a toy. I am sorry for the situation, I truly am. The lady has the right to her decision in matters of her own affection. You are handsome, young and from a respected family. There will be others.”

“You do not know of a potion, a spell?” He pleaded. “I love her so dearly. I feel I cannot live without her.”

Madame Hanzi considered her client for a moment, before glancing up at Caro.

“Young lady, I think your visit is not a coincidence.”

Suddenly she gathered the cards and swiftly shuffled them in her wizened hands.

With a flick she splayed them out in an arch before her. Whatever the cards revealed made the old woman grin, she sat back with a sigh. “Who would have thought?” She mused out loud.

Caro stained her eyes to take in the cards, suddenly feeling very invested. They were pretty pictures, but meaningless to her and to Harvey too it seemed.

“What do the cards say?” Harvey ventured.

“This calls for a little higher resolution. Don’t mind the cards.” She leaned forward and pulled the small glass orb in front of her. She peered into its depth with great concentration.

Suddenly, Caro felt the tug again, and she struggled against the pull, but it was useless and she again found herself tumbling, this time down, down into the room. It didn’t seem a great height from the ceiling to the flood. All the same, Caro braced herself for a rough landing onto the room's floor. The ornate carpet did not look very plush.

Without a jostle or jolt, Caro landed on her feet.

She gasped and threw out her arms in alarm when she saw nothing below her feet but a structure of brass below her feet before she realized she now stood on a glass floor. Moreover, the floor curved into glass walls. She was in the glass orb.

Madame Hanzi's creased face loomed at her, the old woman’s nose a study of pores and makeup.

“That's better. Harvey, look into the glass, and behold your true love. Carolyn.” She said and moved over to make room for the young man.

“Wait! What?” Caro and Harvey echoed each other.

“He is handsome, No?” the old fortune teller queried.

Harvey searched the glass, frowning. The young man held back more and his features were more visible. He was very handsome with a square face. Bold black brows over a straight nose, with very nice lips. And a cleft chin. She already liked cleft chins. She patted her hair feeling a little unsure of her appearance. She had not planned for a sudden blind date.

Harvey’s blue eyes widened, and his very nice lips widened also. “She is beautiful.”

Caro felt her cheeks heat. How sweet he was.

“Okay, yes.” Caro conceded. “But the problem is apparent here. I don’t even know what century this is. Can you help me get home.”

Madame Hanzi made an impatient gesture, waving Caro’s concerns away, “Time is but an idea. You are here for a reason. When your task is fulfilled, you will go home.”

“What is my task to fulfill?” Caro frowned.

She watched as Madame Hanzi pulled Harvey to his feet. She was able to track them as the pair moved away from the table.

Madame Hanzi turned to one of the cabinets. “Mr. Thaw. Against my better judgment, I have decided to help you.” She opened the cabinet door and disappeared from Caro’s view for a moment.

The old woman reappeared holding a small object Caro could not see and stepped towards Harvey.

“This is a very powerful love potion.” She pointed a gnarled finger, its long nail sharp at him. “Don’t tell anyone. You understand.”

She handed Harvey the potion and for a moment Caro caught the reflection of light against the small crystal bottle with a thin tube running from its stopper to an intricate threaded bulb ending in a gold tassel.

“Wait, I know that bottle.” She gasped.

Madame Hanzi smiled and winked before turning back to Harvey. She caught the young man’s arm moving him towards the door. “You spray this into your true love’s face. Make sure she inhales the vapors. When she is looking at you, say these words. “At last.” Only those words at first. Do you understand me?”

Harvey nodded, still observing the bottle.

He paused at the door, turning back to the glass sphere holding Caro. “Wait. How do I find her? Where is she?”

Madame Hanzi waved away his inquiry. “She will drop into your arms one day. I warn you. No time soon. Be patient.”

The pull was back, Caro braced herself for another fall. This time the air in the sphere suddenly picked up blowing Caro around. With nothing to hold onto Caro was at the mercy of the rapid rising wind in the small bubble.

She screamed at the sensation of being in a washing machine. Everything circling towards …What?

She landed with a jolt…. on softness. Like a bed, only it was rocking.

She opened her eyes to find she was in a white box. No, a van with lights and beeping.

She was in an ambulance.

Beside her a man in crisp white shirt and black cargo pants sat partially turned from her view. His black hair was tousled, his arm was long and muscular as he reached up to adjust the flow in the bag of liquid leading to the IV in her arm.

She might have made a sound, because he turned swiftly, and Caro could make out the square face and dark brows of Harvey Thaw.

“At Last.” His very nice lips widened. “I’m Harvey, your EMT. You took a nasty fall. Just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” he patted her arm reassuringly.

Caro closed her eyes again, completely at peace. “I know you will, Harvey.” she patted his hand back. 

Suddenly he frowned. “Have we met before?”