They both nodded. Their mother was generally a quiet, almost passive woman, but not when someone said anything about her children. She never raised her voice, never cursed, never made threats, but somehow the message was always conveyed. Back off.
They reached their destination, which had become the center of their lives over the last few months. It was an old peach-colored building that stood alone on the corner of what passed for the center of Craiger. The name BEYOND BEYOND had been painted on the wood above the front window, the letters swirling with rainbow colors and dusted with glitter. There were two doors. The big one on Main Street led to a store that sold incense, healing crystals, albums of Tibetan monks chanting, folk instruments like Australian didgeridoos and Chilean pan flutes, bead jewelry from Africa and Costa Rica, and icons from every religion in the world and some, Dana suspected, that had been made up recently. Long glass cases lined the walls, and lots of small display tables created a haphazard maze for browsers. A smaller side door on Calliope Avenue was used mostly for students and participants in the various groups and classes that met there, which ranged from yoga and meditation to Reiki massage and even a local chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous. The two halves of the store were separated by an arched doorway, above which was a sign for the COFFEE BAR, flanked by dozens of hand-painted Malaysian flying figures—sphinxes, dragons, and bats.
The girls went in the side and straight to their favorite booth, which was right past the arch. There were two checkout registers, one up front for the store and one under the arch, separated from their booth by a thin canvas screen, so the cha-chings punctuated everything Dana and Melissa said.
Beyond Beyond was often a very busy place for so small a town, with people regularly coming from all over the region. Apart from their school, which served the whole county, the store was the only “busy” place in sleepy Craiger.
Dana loved the store, even though a lot of it was too far in the post-hippie new age lifestyle for her. But the people here were nice. Their focus was on positive energy, peace, and advancement of the soul, and it was hard to find fault with that.
They sat for a while and dissected the entire freaky occurrence at school, trying to make some sense of it. Melissa had Dana go through every detail.
“Crucified like Jesus?” she said when Dana was finished. “That is so sick.”
“You have no idea. And she said something about something called the Red Age.”
“Red Age?” mused Melissa. “What’s that?”
“I have no idea. I don’t have any idea what any of this means.”
Dana noticed that several times during their talk Melissa had touched the front of her blouse, right over where the small cross she wore under her clothes would be. Dana wondered if Melissa was aware that she did that a lot. It was a habit both of the sisters had developed ever since Mom had given them the crosses. Melissa wore a string of crystals over her blouse, each in a different pastel shade, each supposedly representing some kind of spiritual power. Dana wondered which mattered more to her sister, the cross or those crystals.
Behind them the register went cha-ching again. It seemed to break the spell of the moment. There was a blackboard on an easel just inside the side door to announce what classes were being offered that day. Right now there was only one, and Dana squinted to read it.
“Psychic Emergence…?”
“Oh, sure,” said Melissa, nodding. “That’s supposed to be great. It’s taught by that guy Sunlight.”
Dana raised an eyebrow. “Sunlight? His name is Sunlight?”
“That’s what he calls himself. Haven’t you see him, Dana? He’s so mysterious and gorgeous. He’s Corinda’s business partner and owns half of this place, though she runs it. Oh my God, there he is.”
A man came out of the room and paused to talk with two other arriving students, both girls from FSK High.
“Isn’t he awesome?” asked Melissa dreamily.
Dana had to admit that her sister had a point. The man called Sunlight was tall and thin with very dark hair and pale gray eyes. Dana thought that he looked like a poet, like Percy Shelley or Lord Byron. Full, sensual lips and an aristocratic and intellectual air about him. At first glance she thought he was forty, but she corrected herself. He was probably around thirty, but there was a sense of age and authority in the way he stood and moved. The students coming out of the class all smiled at him and nodded to him, and generally seemed dazed just to be in his presence.
“Isn’t he amazing?” enthused Melissa.
Dana nodded to a second, slightly shorter man who came and stood with Sunlight for a moment. Younger, maybe eighteen, with thick black hair and dark eyes. Where Sunlight was thin like a dancer, the younger man was muscular, like a gymnast.
“Who’s that?” asked Dana. Melissa must have caught something in Dana’s voice, because she gave her sister a knowing grin.
“Oh, him? That’s just Angelo. He helps with some of the classes here. I see him around school sometimes. I think he works part-time there, too. Why?”
“He’s kind of cute.”