Bradley sighs. “Are you here for some help? I can see that you are, but I have to tell you that I’m feeling very weak.”
I can see why. He’s lost weight since we’ve been here and his dark skin has gotten a kind of yellowish tint to it. His eyes are drooping and red. The dreadlocks, usually clean and gorgeous, are matted and greasy and carrying bits of leaves or possibly garbage. “What’s going on, Brad?”
“Too many ghosts. I can’t keep up with them all.”
Sam rolls her eyes as I whip ten bucks out of my pocket and hand it to him. He barely glances at it before shoving it into the front of his cut off jean shorts.
“Listen, Brad. I’ve been having some...er...problems. I used to have pretty strong visions, but I got rid of them.” Pausing, I think about it for a second. “Well, mostly.”
“Ah, they’re back now,” he said.
“Wow, can’t believe you picked up that one,” Sam intones. I kick her before turning back to Brad.
“Yes, they’ve come back with a vengeance.”
“There’s someone who means you harm. One, maybe two. The spirit is trying to warn you.”
Rolling my eyes, I raise my eyebrow at him. “The spirit? God?”
“God. The creator. The universe. Your own mind. Whatever it is, whatever you pray to, it’s trying to help you.”
“Help me what?”
He shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Dunno. Maybe let go of your past.”
“I have let go of my past,” I reply, ignoring Sam’s skeptical snort.
“Obviously not if the ghosts from your past are trying to talk to you.”
Pausing, I stare at the wall for a moment. Brad’s apartment is small, dirty, and overloaded with furniture, including the most ridiculous blend of artwork I have ever seen. When his clients can’t afford to pay him cash, he will usually take something in trade. By the looks of his art collection, he isn’t picky about what he takes, either. Blinking at a velvet clown, I formulate my next question.
“Do you think it’s really Fran who is trying to communicate with me?”
Without taking my eyes from the wall, I can feel Brad staring at me. Sam’s staring at me, too. Suddenly, I feel like more of a freak than I usually do. Brad hasn’t answered, so I clear my throat. “Well?”
Shrugging again, he gives me a half smile. “Her energy never left you.”
“It’s a curse.”
He shakes his head. “Your visions are a gift, not a curse.”
“So then what do I do?”
Laughing, he spreads his hands in amazement. “Listen to the voice, of course!”
“Of course,” Sam says in the same amazed tone. “Listen to the voice!”
Brad laughs at Sam and pats her hard on the shoulder. “You keep dismissing me, woman, but you will find out someday about these things and you won’t be laughing then.”
“Food for thought,” Sam says, standing up.
The front door slams open and a teenage girl in short shorts and a bra storms into the room. She pushes past Sam and plants herself in front of Brad. “I need to put a hex on someone who’s out to get me,” she demands.
I dig out another ten and hand it over to Brad who makes it disappear into his shorts again. I shudder at the idea of being handed that same money as change in one of the local shops. Making a mental note to start carrying hand sanitizer, I thank Brad. “We’ll leave you to your next client,” I say. The girl doesn’t even look up as we depart.
Sam is chuckling before we make it to the car. “Are you serious?” she says as we drive out of the city. “You’re taking advice from a man who keeps his money in his crotch?”
“Maybe I should get hypnosis.”
“Maybe you need therapy.”
Shrugging, I look out the window. “I’m not saying that’s not a distinct possibility.”
Susannah and Thomas are sitting at a table outside of Seth’s coffee shop, so Sam pulls over to the curb. Thomas jumps up and leans in the window. “Can I buy you ladies a coffee?”
“I have to get back to work,” Sam says. “Do you want me to drop you off here or at home?”
Envisioning Roxanne and Esmé drinking tea and comparing notes about my sanity, I decide that home is probably not my best bet at this point. Slugging Sam on the shoulder, I thank her and jump out of the car. Susannah stands to give me a hug and Thomas goes in to buy me a coffee.
“I heard Voldemort showed up at your house this morning,” she says.
“How the fuck is that even possible?”
“I just ran into Esmé at the gas station.”
Island grapevine. At least I know she’s not hanging out at my house waiting for me to come home. Thomas returns with my coffee and sits next to Susannah, touching her arm gently as he sits. She smiles at him. They look happy.