Page 43 of Here One Moment

“Harvey,” says Ethan. “I’m okay for now. I’ll, uh, let you know.”

The Uber drops them off in front of an arched doorway and Ethan follows Jasmine into what appears to be a dimly lit gift shop. It’s fragrant with incense and adorned with mystical symbols and celestial images. The shelves shimmer with crystals, occult jewelry, candles, skulls, silver bowls, gold bells, and figurines of cats, wolves, angels, dragons, and demons. Mirrored walls behind the shelves refract prisms of red and purple light. It’s like being inside a pirate’s treasure chest.

“Jasmine!” A woman in a gray hoodie sits behind a desk eating a banana and working on an Apple Mac. Her vibe is all wrong.

“Althea! How are you? This is my friend Ethan. Sorry, I mean, Jason. My friend Jason.” Jasmine gestures back and forth so her bracelets slide back and forth. “Jason Bourne.”

Ethan splutter-coughs, meets Jasmine’s dancing eyes, and for a moment they are schoolkids trying not to laugh in class.

“Been in the wars, Jason?” Althea nods at Ethan’s wrist, and sticks her leg, which is strapped into a formidable-looking hinged and buckled brace, out from behind the desk. “Me too! Did my meniscus in the Coles car park!”

While Jasmine and Althea discuss her meniscus, Ethan wanders through the shop studying the titles of hardback books: Beginner’s Guide to Pendulum Magic, A Practical Guide to Psychic Self-Defense: The Classic Instruction Manual for Protecting Yourself Against Paranormal Attack.

Ethan finds himself unexpectedly enthralled. He’s remembering the magic kit he got for his ninth birthday. He picks up a miniature box of crystals, sees the price, reels, and quickly sets it back down, a little less enthralled.

“Luca is ready for you,” says Althea. “Who wants to go first?”

“You go first,” Jasmine says to him. “I want to make a quick call to a surgeon I know.”

“Down the stairs, open the oak door on the right, through the purple curtains on your left,” says Althea, fastidiously peeling the last of her banana.

As he leaves, Jasmine has her phone to her ear. “You can’t risk it with a cowboy, Althea, you need—” She holds up one finger. “Dr. Geoffrey! Yep, I’ve got another meniscus for you!”

Ethan goes down the stairs, ducks under a Watch Your Head sign, opens the oak door, and draws back the purple curtains to see a clean-shaven, bald man about his dad’s age wearing a black U2 Achtung Baby concert tour T-shirt and ripped jeans. He’s sitting in a small white-walled room that could be for recruitment interviews, except for the fact that the table is covered with a purple cloth embroidered with gold stars and moons.

“Luca?” says Ethan.

“That’s me! Have a seat. Jason, is it? How are you?”

“Not bad.” Ethan is not giving anything away, not even his state ofmind.

There is a framed typed sign sitting so that it faces the customer. It says: Readings Are for Entertainment Purposes Only, and No Guarantee Can Be Given as to Their Accuracy. I Do Not Give Medical, Legal, or Financial Advice.

So they’re not even pretending it’s real?

“Broken arm?” asks Luca.

“Wrist,” says Ethan. “Rock-climbing accident.” Dammit! All he needed to say was “wrist.” He’s already given away information without even being asked!

“That’s bad luck. Althea did her meniscus in the Coles car park,” remarks Luca.

“Yes,” says Ethan. “I, uh, heard.”

“So just a general reading today?” Luca presses a button on a cheap plastic kitchen timer and picks up the deck of tarot cards. “Can you shuffle?”

Ethan waggles his fingers. “I think so.”

“Left hand,” says Luca. “Three piles.”

Ethan puts the cards into three piles.

“Which one?” asks Luca.

“Ah. Middle one, please.”

Luca bangs the pile of cards against the side of the table.

“You single? In a relationship?” he asks as he lays out the cards in overlapping rows as if he’s playing an unusual version of solitaire, stopping every now and then to consider what he sees.

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