The Quest part one

Where does intuition come from

Like a greedy woman in need of a secret I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. Once down the lane, I light up, letting the Winston dance between my fingers. I find myself needing something all my own, that only I know about.

It all began a month ago. I was on a road trip and while driving I had the urge to smoke. It hit me out of the blue. What makes that odd is I don’t smoke. I also started humming a song. It was an angel lullaby, I guess I learned it in school, but for the life of me, I can’t remember learning it. I know all the words to this song. For some reason, I only think of it when driving. No, I only think of it when smoking.  I only get this urge when I’m alone and it gives me deep satisfaction.

 

It is not the fact I don’t want anyone to know, but the need to have something all my own. If the discovery was made my interest for it would die. Would I have the need to replace it with something new only time could tell? 

 

We are wonderfully complex beings and I love the simplicity of that. I slowed my red charger to a stop, in front of a signal light and realized I didn’t know where I was. I had lost track of time. On the Southeast corner of the intersection was Madame Zeal’s House of Cards. All the windows were blacked out and the oversized front door was oak trimmed with cast iron, giving it an ole world flare. I was compelled to pull in.

 

“Well, hello there,” I mumbled, as I opened my car door. I let my smoke fall to the ground and lightly stomped it out as I walked by. Normally I would never go inside a place like this. I have an aversion to places I’ve never been. Not to mention the fact that there is no outside lighting for this building. Never the less I pulled that door wide and stepped inside.

The walls were lined with mason jars. They were filled with dried herbs and such. In the middle of the room stood a single table with two chairs. I was expecting to see a wall of beads hanging in the adjoining doorway and to my surprise there they hung. The beads sang out and began to sway. A very old woman appeared. Her tanned skin was tooled to a leathery complexion. She held a corn cob pipe in her right hand. Just like an old movie she wore a long-patched skirt and matching scarf.

“You are not a seeker.” She said flatly. She took a small step forward. The puzzled look on my face made her explain. "You don't seek anyone on the next plane."

 

 She looked into my eyes. There was no warmth to be found in the depths of her gaze. I forced myself to blink. I had no words to offer. She repeated herself in a soft chuckle. “You are not a seeker, but you have the gift. Pay me and sit quickly.”

I reached into my back pocket where I knew I had a ten dollar bill. My hand and the money slowly reached for her. She made no attempt to take the offering. Her spine straightened, and she seemed to grow an inch. It was like, my money, was dirty. She nodded toward the table. I laid the money down and in unison, we both sat. It was then I realized the money was atonement and not a payment. I wasn’t sure what I was atoning for, but I had the idea she did.

“You have a follower.” She said to me. My own voice failed me and all I could do was shake my head no.

In response, she nodded yes.” Oh yes, there is no mistake you have a Shade. An angelic being shadows you. I can see him clearly.”

“No, that simply isn’t so,” I said in protest as my voice cracked and my left hand trembled slightly.

“Tell me, do you talk to yourself? Yes, I can see that you do.” Again, she stared into my eyes. "In your car while driving. That is when he talks to you. It is the only time when you will listen.”

 

 I reached my palm toward her. So, she could look upon it.

“Don’t be silly, put your hand down.” She paused and lit a pipe. She sat without moving for so long I thought she had fallen asleep. I stood to leave.

“Sit down.” She said in a timid voice. “His name is Mercy and he wishes to cover those that you will see. He sends you on a quest. Do not come back here the Almighty’s host dislike my casting of lots.” Quickly I jumped to my feet. The old woman grabbed my hand and she began to sing that song. The one I hear so often. I melted into my chair. Her eyes flew open at the same time the front door flew open and light flooded the room. The old woman ran down the hallway and slammed a door.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run after the woman, but my own fear took hold and I ran out the door. I chucked the pack of smokes out the window and raced toward the house. I drove in silence. I pulled under the carport.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Ardra]

Ooh.. cherrie.. you are a talented story teller...n I love the way you tell the story n...i like the way the lady reached the place...her need to have a secret hehe .... :) am in love with your way of story telling...never a dull min..

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you, this chapter still needs a little work but I'm already working on part two