The Blossom Sisters

Chapter 17


GUS DUSTED HIS HANDS DRAMATICALLY BEFORE SHAKING HANDS with Pastor Evans. “Appreciate your help, Pastor.” He eyed the oversize drum that was resting in the back of the Blossom Farm van. He wasn’t sure he could count on help getting it back out of the van when he got to the farm. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a man with a backpack walking away from his car, toward the entrance to the day-care and preschool center. He’d seen him somewhere recently but couldn’t remember where. Probably the guy’s kid forgot his lunch or his gear, and he was dropping it off on his way to work. Gus shrugged. In the scheme of things, it hardly seemed important. He put it out of his mind as he climbed behind the wheel of the van. He had made it as far as the parking-lot exit when his cell phone rang. He looked down at the number and grinned. Barney! He backed up away from the exit and parked while he took the call.

“How are things in Hong Kong, Barney?”

“Nothing much ever changes here. What’s going on? Fill me in, Gus.”

“Are you calling me because my attorney called you to complain about me?”

“No. Why? C’mon, Gus, what did you do now to ruffle her feathers?”

“I fouled up, okay? I apologized, and I even sent flowers. I guess I hurt her feelings, and there’s no excuse for that. I’m trying to screw up the courage to invite her out to dinner. A truce of sorts. What—she didn’t call you?”

“She did not. You might as well tell me what it was you did. Guilt is a terrible thing. You know that. And . . . pal, that’s another reason why you’re in the position you’re in now. Tell me, you’ll feel better. It’s called clearing your conscience.”

“I addressed her as Miss Fireplug. Jesus, Barney, it just slipped out. I didn’t mean to say it out loud. It’s how I think of her. I know I hurt her feelings, and I’m going to do my best to correct my comment. It’s all those clothes, and, for crying out loud, she has layers of them. She drives a pickup truck. I try not to be judgmental, but it’s what I see, okay?” The silence on the other end of the line bothered Gus. “I know you’re pissed, Barney, and you’re disappointed in me. I’m sorry.”

“Gus, she’s a top-notch attorney. If she weren’t, I would never have hired her. Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason she dresses like she does and a reason why she drives a pickup truck? And what does her mode of transportation have to do with anything, anyway?”

“You’re right, Barney, I’m not arguing with you. I’m not even defending myself. She’s my lawyer. I think I’d like to know she’s . . . that she has a personality. She’s like a goddamned robot. And she hates me. It’s hard to be nice to someone you know hates your guts.”

“I’m coming home. I should be there sometime tomorrow night. No, I’m not coming back because of you and your problems.”

“Then why are you coming back? When you left, you said you were going to be gone six months.”

“I’m tired of making money. You seem to be having all the fun. I want to be part of it. All work and no play makes for a dull boy. I believe that. I want to be there to see you take your bus driving test. Tell Granny and the aunts I’ll be bringing home some jade and some beautiful silk for them.”

“Come off it, Barney. You love money. You worship money. You eat, sleep, and dream about money. You’d rather cut off your left foot than give up money.”

“I didn’t say I was giving up on money. I still love money, but everyone gets to take a hiatus at some point in their life. I want to take my hiatus now.”

Suddenly, alarm crept into Gus’s voice. “You aren’t sick, are you, Barney?”

“No, I’m not sick, Gus. I’m fine.”

Gus wasn’t sure he believed his friend, but he let it go. “What are you bringing home for the fire . . . Miss Jackson?”

“None of your business.”

“What are you bringing me?”

“A whole new attitude, pal.”

Gus felt his blood pressure rising. He tried to shake off what he was feeling. “If you’re saying in a roundabout way that you’re coming back because you think I’m screwing up, just say it, Barney.”

“I told you. I’m coming back because I’m tired of just making money. I want to stop and smell the roses for a little while. And I want to help with Granny and the aunts, if you all want me. Listen, I gotta go. See you tomorrow night.”

Gus didn’t bother saying good-bye. He just clicked off and took a deep breath. He shifted gears and drove to the EXIT sign. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the man with the backpack coming out the door of the preschool, when he looked in his side-view mirror to see if anyone was behind him.

As Gus drove along, his thoughts went to Barney and his return stateside. Without thinking, he made a left turn and followed a service road that would take him to the DMV so he could pick up a bus driver’s manual. And then, when he got back to the farm, he was going to talk to Granny and ask her opinion as to what he should do next where Jill Jackson was concerned. Barney’s words rang in his ears. Did you ever stop to think there might be a reason she dresses like she does? Well, hell, yes, he’d thought about it, and the only answer he could come up with was his lawyer liked dressing like a bag lady. End of story. And it wasn’t any of his business to begin with. As to her mode of transportation, that wasn’t his business, either. As long as a vehicle got you where you had to go, that was all that mattered. So why was it bothering him?

Gus shrugged off his thoughts as he parked, ran into the DMV, and asked for a bus driver’s manual. He looked at it and shoved it into his back pocket. He’d read it tonight while he and Wilson watched TV. He wondered then if he was putting the cart before the horse. Where was he going to get a bus to practice on? Pastor Evans? Maybe he could practice in the parking lot. He’d ask Granny to intercede. There was no way he wanted to break a promise to Elroy Hitchens and the other seniors.

Gus pulled to a stop at a traffic light. Tapping on the steering wheel, impatient to get moving, he looked into the rearview mirror and frowned. Two cars back was a silver car. The guy with the backpack had been driving a silvery-colored car. His heart fluttered in his chest. Am I being followed? If I am, is it because of Elaine?

The light changed and Gus moved forward. He didn’t have time just then to try to lose his tail, assuming that it was a tail. Watching too much Law & Order, or am I getting paranoid?

Jittery with his thoughts, Gus drove carefully, his gaze going to his rearview mirror when he felt it was safe to take his eyes off the road. If he was being followed, he hated leading his tail to Blossom Farm, but it couldn’t be helped.

An hour later, Gus, with the help of several of the seniors, managed to get the huge drum up on the back porch. Seniors swarmed through the doors. They looked like they knew what they were doing, so he entered the house and sought out his grandmother. “I need to talk to you, Granny. I need some advice, and if you can spare Violet and Iris, I’d like to include them, too.”

“This sounds serious, Augustus. Are you okay?”

“If you mean am I sick, no, I’m not. I just need some advice. Female advice. I think we should go outside to talk.”

Wilson came on the run and waited for Gus to give him a good scratch behind the ears. Gus obliged. Wilson was the first one out the door when Rose, Violet, and Iris appeared.

Outside, Gus let loose with his problem. “Obviously, I know nothing about women, so I’m asking for your help. I don’t know what to do. By the way, Barney is coming home. He said he’s tired of making money. I don’t believe that for one minute. He’s bringing jade and silk for you ladies. And I think someone is following me. Probably someone Elaine has hired to keep tabs on me. You need to know that. If you want me to stay away, I can do that. I don’t want to cause any problems for any of you. Private detectives dig and dig and dig. That’s why they get paid the big bucks. This could mean trouble.”

Violet squared her shoulders. “I think we can handle interference, Augustus. I also agree with you about Barney. Now, as to the young attorney who is handling your divorce . . . you said she accepted your apology. You sent her flowers. You are thinking of asking her to dinner. I say, do it.” Iris and Rose agreed.

Gus felt dizzy as he tried to absorb all the advice they were throwing at him. What he walked away with was that he needed to be humble, complimentary. “And, Augustus, you need to listen and pay attention to what the young lady says. If you get stuck, go to the men’s room and call us; we’ll talk you through it.”

Gus felt like he was sixteen and going out on his first date. He’d been married, had relationships in the past, for crying out loud. If Barney were here, he’d laugh his head off.

“Where are you going now, Augustus?” Rose asked.

“To the post office to pick up your mail. I can do that every morning to save you guys time. Traveling to three different post offices takes time. I’m sort of surprised that you get orders by way of the postal service as opposed to the Internet.”

“There are people who do not have computers, Augustus, or even access to computers. People still write letters and put stamps on the envelopes. I know in your eyes those people are Neanderthals, but it is what it is. When you get to the post office, just say you’re there to pick up Initial B Enterprises’ mail, and they’ll give it to you in a sack. Those sacks have to be brought back here. What is on your agenda for the rest of the day?”

“If you don’t need me, I thought I would try to get myself settled in my new digs. I need to pick up a few more things and some additional groceries. I also need to pick up my own mail at the office and pay some bills. I’m just a phone call away if you need me to do anything.”

Violet sniffed. Of the three sisters, Violet was the most unforgiving. “I think we can manage, nephew. But, we do appreciate all you’ve done for us.”

“Thanks for your advice. I’ll be back with the mail.” Gus waved as he exited with Wilson on his heels.

On his way to the Jeep, Gus noticed movement in the front yard; Mr. Younger and his sons working on the old sycamore. Gus walked over and looked down at the monster logs, which were being split into firewood. He asked about the part of the tree where he and Barney had carved their names. “It’s right there on the steps, Mr. Gus. Your grandmother told us to save it for you. You can take it now if you want. Shame this old tree had to go like that, but Mother Nature is a strange lady.”

Gus was surprised at how heavy the slab of bark was. He felt his eyes start to burn. His index finger traced the deep carvings he and Barney had done what seemed like a lifetime ago. He nodded, picked it up, and carried it out to the driveway. He opened the back of the Jeep and settled it in the corner on top of an old blanket. He walked back to where Alex Younger was standing and shook his hand. He whistled for Wilson, who was sniffing the fresh-cut wood.

Ninety minutes later, Gus had returned to the farm and was unloading the sacks of mail on the back porch. As if by magic, three seniors appeared, scooped up the sacks, and disappeared. Talk about a well-oiled working machine.

Gus was back on the road and headed toward his office. He constantly checked his rearview mirror to see if the silver car was following him. He thought it was there, three cars back. He was certain of it when he pulled into the Target parking lot. “Well, have at it,” he mumbled under his breath as he bolted into the store and was back out in thirty minutes. “What’d you see, Wilson?”

Woof!

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Okay, let’s take this guy for a ride. Buckle up, Wilson.”





Elaine Hollister finished her coffee and headed back upstairs to shower and get ready for the day. She felt irritable and out of sorts. She’d spent a miserable night once she got home from Isaac Diamond’s house in the wee hours of the morning. The intimate evening had not gone according to her plan. Isaac Diamond, even in his seventies, was no pushover, and he hadn’t bought into her act. In her opinion, he was nothing more than a dirty old man who chewed up the little blue pills like they were M&Ms. She’d never worked so hard for nothing in her entire life, and only to lose.

She needed to get cleansed. Even though she’d scrubbed herself raw when she’d returned home hours earlier, it was imperative that her body be purified before she climbed the ladder to her altar so that she could perform her daily ritual.

The white linen gown felt good when she dropped it over her aching body. She shook her shoulders so that the gown settled more comfortably on her body before she pressed the switch that would lower the ladder to the attic. As the hydraulics kicked in, Elaine did her best to clear her mind so that it was as pure as her cleansed body. She took several deep breaths before making her way up to where her altar waited for her. At the last rung, her arm stretched out and hit the switch in the floor that turned on the lights in the attic.

She saw everything all at once, the boxes and empty mailers behind her altar, the overturned vase of white flowers, the roses wilted and already starting to turn brown. Panic rippled through her as she let her gaze rake all the tools that she used to perform her spells and rituals. Her hands trembled as she set the vase upright. She picked up the wilted roses, turned around, and threw them down the ladder. The petals scattered all over the floor, which meant that when she descended, she’d be stepping all over them. The thought bothered her.

Elaine turned and eyed her altar, her heart beating like a trip-hammer. The cloth is soaking wet. Defiled. And I don’t have a backup cloth. She cursed under her breath. She’d had plans to perform two rituals today. Three, now, since she’d spent the better part of the night with Isaac Diamond. Bastard. How could she have been so wrong?

But all that was the least of her problems. Did someone break into the house last night while I was out? How else could the vase have toppled over? A rat? A mouse? Possibly a squirrel. No. Gus had an exterminator come by once a month. If a rodent had taken up residence in the attic, I would have seen droppings when I originally set up the altar. No, someone was in the house, someone who obviously knew how to pick a lock and bypass the alarm system. Gus? No, not Gus. Then who?

Elaine tried to calm her racing heart, her nerves twanging all over the place as she backed up and descended the ladder. She raced into the bedroom and dialed the alarm company and blurted out her questions. When she hung up the phone, she had to sit down on the side of the bed, she felt so light-headed. Someone who was smart enough to know their way around an alarm system had broken into her house not once, but twice. The first time whoever it was had broken in, they spent an hour in the house before turning the alarm back on. The second time, they stayed in the house exactly forty-eight minutes before reconnecting the alarm.

The house looked the same as far as she could tell. Nothing looked out of place. She knew that her jewelry, what there was of it, was still in her jewelry box, because she’d put her earrings in it when she got home, along with her watch with the diamond bezel and the special medallion she’d worn around her neck last night. So, then, why would someone break into her house? Obviously a professional of some sort, looking for . . . what, she didn’t know. It had to concern the divorce proceedings. Maybe it even concerned Isaac Diamond, with plans to blackmail her. Although she thought that the latter might be a stretch.

Her head swimming with all manner of possibilities, Elaine raced back up the ladder to carry her materials down to the dining room, where she was going to set up an emergency altar. It took eight trips before she had everything ready. Then she looked around in a panic.

Dammit. I don’t have a spare altar cloth. Wait. Maybe I do. She ran over to the buffet and yanked at a drawer. There was a brand-new, white linen tablecloth, complete with a sticky label that said the dimensions were 108 by 96 inches. Just big enough to cover the dining-room table, which had three additional leaves. She peeled off the sticky label, shook the tablecloth out, and spread it across the table. She quickly replaced everything the way she’d had it in the attic, minus one vase of flowers.

Elaine ran into the living room, where there was an elaborate silk flower arrangement. She yanked at several white silk orchids and carried them back to the dining room, where she placed them in the empty vase. She looked at everything with a careful eye.

I’m good to go. She was about to sit down when she looked down at the smudges on her priestess gown and felt like crying. She wasn’t pure. She had to take another shower and change into a fresh gown.

Elaine mumbled and muttered all the while she soaped and showered and dried herself off. She ran to the closet, ripped a clean white linen gown off the hanger, pulled it on, and ran back down the stairs.

Like the high priestess she perceived herself to be, Elaine took a seat in front of her altar. She sat quietly, her hands on her knees, as she took deep breaths, holding her breath to the count of seven, then expelling it in a soft swoosh of sound. When she felt sufficiently calm, she reached for a long match, struck it on the side of the special box, and lit the black candle and the two slender incense spears. She waited till the aroma from the incense permeated the room. In her hand, she held a small black bag of herbs to ward off evil. She sprinkled salt over it, then picked up the small bottle of holy water and dripped some on the bag. Then she waved the bag through the vapors of the incense sticks. Back and forth, back and forth.

Finally, Elaine closed her eyes and started to chant words she knew by heart from long months of repeating them daily. The words flowed evenly and with passion. She ended her chant with, “All my enemies to leave my life. I cite the number nine and the number four. Four enemies, Augustus Hollister, Rose Blossom, Violet Blossom, and Iris Blossom. Remove these enemies from my life. I offer up everything on my altar. I want no harm to come to the four because I know if I wish such a thing, that wish will come back to me fourfold. I cite the number nine for this to take place. Nine minutes, nine hours, nine days, nine weeks.”

Elaine stared into the flame of the black candle as she envisioned Gus Hollister and the Blossom sisters walking away, their pockets inside out as they left all their worldly possessions behind. For her. Only her.

With spots in front of her eyes from staring into the flame of the candle, Elaine blinked as she reached behind her to the sideboard, where she had placed her Bible and her glasses. She opened the Bible and started to read the psalms that pertained to her ritual. She read aloud, passion ringing in her voice. When she was finished, she closed the Bible, set it back on the sideboard, and removed her glasses from the tip of her nose, where they rested. She stood up, opened her arms wide, and intoned, “The portals to the universe are now closed. Thank you for hearing my pleas.”

Elaine sat back down and repeated the earlier procedure. She placed her hands on her knees and did her deep breathing exercises. After she leaned over and blew out the black candle, she carried the container with the incense to the kitchen and set it in the sink.

Elaine felt buoyant as she practically flew back to the dining room, where she prepared her altar for a second ritual. To be sure, she had everything ready for what she called a twofer. She ripped through her ritual manual until she found the page she wanted. Her index finger raced across the words as she committed them to memory.

This second ritual was a money ritual, one she performed weekly, but today was the first time she would add a second part to it. Isaac Diamond was the second part of the ritual.

Elaine placed new sticks of frankincense in a crystal cylinder. She set up four green candles, not the squat black kind she’d used earlier. These candles were more like short, thin tapers, which would burn out by the time the ritual was finished. Green symbolized money. Next to the candles were a small green change purse and a small box covered in green felt. She reached for a green velvet drawstring bag, which, according to the ritual instructions, was called a prosperity bag. From the sideboard she picked up a handful of loose change—four pennies, four nickels, four dimes, four quarters—and placed them in the coin purse. She deposited four one-dollar bills in the green felt money box.

Elaine reached for the special gold medallion. It was old, something she’d found in a pawnshop years before. She’d had it modified several days after purchasing it, into a miniature recording device capable of recording for two full hours before the tiny tape had to be replaced, which in the end had cost more than to purchase it. The medallion had proved to be invaluable over the years.

Elaine walked over to the sideboard and picked up a large green crystal and a small container of cinnamon oil. She would use the oil to anoint her candle, the felt-covered box, and the change purse. The last thing she had to do was place jasmine flowers in the middle of the altar. She rummaged in one of the drawers in the sideboard for the pressed jasmine that she’d preserved last summer when they bloomed at the side of the house. The salt to be used this time was sea salt, as opposed to the table salt she’d used in the first ritual.

Elaine looked at her altar, staring at each article to make sure she had it placed properly. Satisfied, she sat down and did her deep breathing preparations.

Calm now, Elaine stared into the flames of the flickering tapers as the vapors from the incense wafted about the dining room. Her hand stretched out to pick up the medallion. She clutched it in her hand as she started to chant, the number four taking precedence in everything she asked for.

Four minutes, four hours, four days, four weeks. Her voice was as passionate as before, her arms waving upward as she pled for help. When she was finished with her chanting, she reached for the green crystal and rubbed it over her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, then up and down her arms. Then she rolled the crystal in the sea salt. The crystal went into the green velvet drawstring bag. The rest of the sea salt was sprinkled over her head. Then she counted the coins and placed each one into the same bag as the crystal. The four one-dollar bills followed. Once again, Elaine anointed the bag, the change purse, and the green money box with the cinnamon oil. Using the same oil, she dabbed her forehead, her neck at her pulse points, and her wrists.

Elaine sat down, took deep breaths, closed her eyes, and chanted her money ritual. “In hours of four, my money worries will be no more. In days of four, my money worries will be no more. In weeks of four, my money worries will be no more. In months of four, my money worries will be no more.” She repeated the chant four times before she let out a long sigh of completion.

Elaine squared her shoulders. She picked up the medallion again and pressed a little button on the back. Isaac Diamond’s mellifluous courtroom voice filled the dining room. Elaine grimaced as she stared into the flickering flames of the tapers sitting on the dining-room table. She repeated Isaac Diamond’s name four times as she wrote his name four times on a piece of paper. She folded the paper into a little square and reached behind her for a small glass jar. She slipped the folded square into the jar and turned the lid.

“Four, four, four, four.” Now she had to wait four minutes before she could fill the jar with the special boiled vinegar mix in the refrigerator, along with the herbs that she’d poured into the vinegar when she returned home in the early hours of the morning.

Elaine watched the minute hand on her watch. When the big hand reached eleven, Elaine ran to the kitchen and opened the door of the refrigerator. When the big hand reached the twelve, she poured the vinegar mixture into the glass jar in her hand. All the while, she chanted, “Four, four, four, four!”

In a flash, she was back at her altar, the small jar still in her hands. She passed it over the flames of the four candles. Then she waved the jar over and through the vapor from the incense sticks. Finally, she anointed the jar with the cinnamon oil.

Done.

But there was one thing she still had to do. She had four hours to take the little jar with the vinegar mixture to a body of water and throw it in.

Elaine leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes. Her ritual was complete. She felt drained, but cleansed.

As Elaine set about cleaning up her altar, she kept chanting, “Four, four, four, four.”