September 5, 2007

Lime
By Kathleen Dale

Melly blew her bangs out of her eyes and placed the last tray of fruit out on the table. It was hot for the beginning of May and she'd left the fruit until the street and the little park at the end of it had started to fill up, people wandering over for food, to put out the fresh vegetables and fruit.

Her business was starting to pick up, word of mouth bringing her more business like this block party in a nice neighbourhood and the last thing she needed was a bad review because the heat had taken the bloom off her strawberries.

At least it wasn't raining.

The park was mostly green grass with a few trees and a small sandy area holding two tire swings and a short slide, though so far she'd seen more dogs than kids.

She made sure the plates, utensils, cups and napkins were easily accessible at both ends of the long tables, put her supplies under the last table, under cover of the table cloths and went over to lock up the van.

She wouldn't really be needed again until four when she was scheduled to clean up, but she liked to stay fairly close so she could keep the tables neat, top things up on a regular basis and just generally make sure everything was running smoothly.

It was such a nice day today though, she thought she just might go for a bit of a walk. She pocketed her cell-phone and keys to the van, retied the heavy tail at the back of her neck and put on her sunglasses. With her jeans and t-shirt, she'd pretty much fit in with the partiers.

She'd listened to one mediocre local band, caught a stray volleyball and grabbed a cheap margarita in a plastic cup, when she saw the little gaggle of people near a giant live oak tree. She wandered over, grinning at the sign that said, "psychic artist -- $10".

Oh, now this could be entertaining.

She checked her back pocket, checking to see if she had enough. Still grinning as she pulled out two fives and several ones, she got into the little queue.

The girls in front of her were chattering, giggling. "Col did a reading for me at the New Age fair two weekends ago. I framed the picture. Too cool."

"Yeah? What was it like?"

The little blond pushed her hair back off her shoulder. "She had these chalky colors and she held my hands and then she started talking about opening my third chakra and letting things out. Then the drawing was all blue and swirling and cool."

She bit back her chuckle. Third chakra indeed. Still, it did sound like a fun way to kill some time.

Just because she was practical and realistic and believed you made your own luck, didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun. Maybe she'd frame the results herself and then she could invite dates back to see her third chakra.

By the time the two girls stepped behind the suns and moons shower curtain tied between two trees, her margarita was finished and she was more than a little grateful for the big fans blowing over the front of the line, cooling her down.

When the two girls slipped out, still laughing, she went in, blinking at the dimmed light. The shower curtains did a fine job with the sunlight and the fans and bowls of ice in the corners made the little makeshift room comfortable.

"Come on in, honey. Sit." The voice -- low and husky and southern -- came from a pile of pillows behind a ground easel, a pad of paper leaned against it. The girl the voice belonged to looked...

Well...

If they're had been such a thing as a punk magical woodland creature? She'd be it.

Short-short hair in varied pinks and blues, rings in eyebrow, ears, nose, and lip -- those were enough to distract from the tank top and cut-off jeans exposing about a yard of inked skin.

Melly sat down, thinking if she hadn't come out she would have missed this. She didn't know what to look at first, the tattoos, the piercings, the hair... she settled on looking into the girl's face.

"Hi. I'm Colleen. Thanks for waiting." The girl's eyes were the color of limes, happy and laughing and Melly could smell roses and the hint of clove cigarettes. One thin hand was offered over, a daisy chain inked around the wrist. "Do you have any questions?"

She shook her head, not wanting to even give away the sound of her voice. What kind of picture would this girl draw with so few clues?

"Okay then, I'm just going to hold your hand for a second, sort of groove on your vibe." Those eyes twinkled as Colleen winked. "It won't hurt, I promise."

Groove on her vibe? Oh, this was going to fuel her story telling at the Prancing Poodle for weeks, maybe even months.

The girl's eyes closed, giving Melly a chance to look. The tattoos were stunning -- a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns -- suns and moons and birds and rainbows and fairies. There was a pixie on her neck, pansies on one arm, a baby dragon peering from the edge of tank top, leaning on one breast.

Melly was struck by the sudden desire to see them all, to trace them with her tongue, taste the bottom of that dragon...

Those eyes opened, stared into hers. "You're sensual -- tasting, touching, smelling. You laugh a lot. You're looking for magic, but you pretend you're not."

Her lips twitched, but she kept her chuckle to herself. Presumptuous youngster. She was too old for magic.

"You think you're old, too, and jaded, but you're faking it. You need more kisses from strangers and letters written in magical ink."

She almost pulled her hand away, but realised it would easy to guess her age, to guess that an older woman without a companion present, without a wedding band, might be lonely. She kept her cool, she watched Colleen's amazing eyes.

Colleen released her hand, picked up a fuchsia chalk, a deep green, started drawing. "You want long kisses and someone to hold you in the shower, wash you. You dream about wine-flavored kisses and sharp-toothed lovers and someone dancing naked for you in the full moon."

Heat bloomed in her belly, the words close enough to her late-night fantasies to arouse. Coincidence, she told herself, the girl reading her body-language rather than her mind.

"Someone to dip their hands in oil and slide them over your skin, anoint you, make you shine and need. You dream at night of being someone else, some heavy-skirted and powdered woman with a wanton serving girl desperate for you." The air was heavy, one chalk exchanged for another, Colleen's voice rough, skin flushed. "Or perhaps you are a priestess, strong and dressed in white, called to serve your goddess."

Melly found she was breathing heavily, the atmosphere charged by Colleen's words, the images the girl was drawing between them.

"You want someone to treat your body as a banquet -- slide berries over your skin, tiny drops of honey on your folds, a hungry, decadent tongue to lap them up."

She gasped at that, the words 'how dare you!' on her lips, but something held her back from saying them.

A navy chalk was chosen. "Love letters, too. Pages and pages of desire scribbled in colored ink and sealed with wax, tied with satin ribbons -- all bound together and scented with a memory's perfume. You have a rich spirit, a curious one."

"Who are you?" she finally asked, the final image too close to the wrapped letters in her bottom drawer, missives never sent to her heart's first desire.

"Just a girl who listens." Those eyes met hers, held her. "It's a talent. Do you want to hear more?"

No. Yes.

She nodded.

"Someone lied to you. Told you you dreamed too much, that you needed to grow up, quit believing in magic and fairies and lovers with dancing eyes and you did, so they fill your dreams up, your fantasies. You used to collect magical things -- dragons? Gargoyles?"

"Unicorns. Like every other little girl." Like every other little girl. This wasn't magic. This girl wasn't a reader of minds, she just knew people.

"Mine was pegasi. I like wings." Colleen stopped, looked over. "I didn't mean to make you angry."

"I just find it hard to believe you know these things just from holding my hand." She wasn't angry, not really. Well, not at this girl.

Colleen nodded, the sunlight catching on the pink in her hair. "I hear that a lot."

The paper was torn free, carefully slid into a large envelope. "There's your picture. Ten dollars, please."

"Just like that we're done?" She didn't know why she was surprised, why she suddenly felt gypped -- this was exactly what she had expected from the experience.

"I don't have anything to say that you want to hear. Entertainment only, right? That's what the sign says. I'll stop knowing things I'm not supposed to." If she didn't know better, she'd say those eyes were hurt, shuttered somehow.

"I'm sorry." Why was she apologizing?

She handed over the two fives, taking her envelope, confused, by this girl and her own behavior. Magic wasn't real, she knew that, so why was she upset?

Colleen's fingers trailed over her hand, almost tingling. "It's all good, lady. All good."

"Thank you."

She stood reluctantly, watching the strange green eyes before turning and leaving.

The sunshine was bright, almost blinding as she left the makeshift tent and she stumbled, clutching the envelope to her.

She got another margarita and went to rest in the shade by her van, after checking the tables, straightening the trays. When she got settled, she pulled out the picture. It was a nude woman with auburn hair, curvy and pale, luscious, hands sliding over her own skin. Over her shoulder watched a pair of lime-green eyes.

end

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Today's Scavenger Hunt Clue- You don't have to go off world to find this next clue, just see what's available now.