Amos

An intro to Blair (1)

I tilted the paper cup into my mouth, letting a few peanuts slide unto my tongue before pulling the cup away and continue my guard over the beagles. Stupid dogs. The owner had tried shock collars on them and even that didn’t shut up their relentless stealing of food and ceaseless barking.

I tilted my head back and finished off what was left in the cup when the sliding door swung open and I heard the small clanking of clogs on rustic tiles.

“Hey, Margie, Can I have a cheese stick?” Karen twiddled her thumbs.

I looked over little six year old body and nodded.

The salt of the peanuts seared a part of my tongue I had bitten earlier, keeping me from yelling at her when she slammed the door closed.

Once Polly and Sassy settled down, I let them go inside and head to their beds hidden amongst the furniture. Following them, I locked the door and went about to find Karen.

Her door was closed and as I turned the knob, my subconscious knew who awaited on the other side of the door.

“Karen?”

She looked up at me from the small wooden seat that matched with the pastel table before her. A tea set displayed with plates and teacups distributed evenly amongst the other small chairs. She took the elongated tea kettle and poured in a teacup actual steaming liquid. I opened my mouth to say something when Karen’s voice stopped me.

“Take a seat.” She gestured to where she set the cup. Her voice stronger and more baritones like that of a middle aged woman.

I should have listened to the suspicion inside my mind.

Blair was visiting.

I sighed inwardly and took the seat assigned to me. Picking up the teacup with a grimace I peered into it and smiled.

Coffee, I’m not a fan of tea and Blair knew it better than anyone.

“Milk, please.” I hold the cup out to her and she complies in drizzling the cream into it. The tilts of her small hands have me mesmerized.

“You and I have to talk, Margaret.”

I sniffed with annoyance, rotating the cup in it’s partnered saucer. Karen only called me Margaret in her spirit mode. Blair was old fashioned and enjoyed the sound of my name and what it did to me when she said it.

“What about?”

She sipped lightly, staring at me intently. “Amos has arrived.”

I frown with wide eyes and catch myself from straining them. I shift in the toddler chair to slant my legs without having my knees bang against the table.

“He arrived yesterday noon. I am still unsure to how you want to meet…so I haven’t contacted his spirit yet.”

She eyed me, expecting a thank you. When I didn’t she continued, “What is that you want to do?”

I gulped the shot of coffee and slapped my thighs with impatience. “Are you sure it’s him, Blair?”

Karen nods in a dignified manner.

I hated spirit mode.

That’s the label I gave to the transition from Karen being Karen to Karen being possessed by the spirit of a lady named Blair. As far as I’m concerned, only I know this happens to Karen and her parents are clueless.

I’ve figured that the only possible explanation was my insanity, several times. Sometimes I think it might be a tumor lodged somewhere deep in my brain, but instead of reacting either way, I humor it by tagging along.

When Blair was alive back in the 1910’s, she had spiritual contacts and made an interesting living as a fortune teller traveling in a carnival called Thistle.

Dying gave her even more access to the secrets hidden to her in life.

She nudged her saucer and cup at me with an arched eyebrow,

I looked inside.

I’ve seen the Harry Potter movies, I know that what I was looking at, was tea leaves.

“Should I make it so that he comes closer to you?” she purred.

I was staring intently on the remains in the cup. “What shape is this?” She grinned and remained staring at me instead of looking to where I pointed. Her smile large and I could imagine the yellow smoker teeth on Karen, matching the cynical gleam in her eyes.

“Take a guess, Margaret.”

I thought of it and set the cup down, turning away from it.

“You see?” She whispered madly.

I ran a hand across my face.

Blair lifted a clean teacup and poured in it from a smaller kettle that matched with the rest of the china. Her eyebrow was still arched.

I side glanced the cup she had given to me earlier with the tea leaves, and winced.

Near the rim I saw three circles, one empty inside, the other had a tail that curled and the last had a thin splotch in the middle with smaller ones around it.

Zero, the letter ‘a’ and a clock.

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Amos is a codename Blair and I came up with in one of our past conversations.

After two months from whence Blair first appeared in Karen during my babysitting, and convinced to listen to what she had to say since what she threatened me with were things no mortal should know about me, Blair appeared with news.

My soul mate.

She gave so many confusing tantrums and obsessed speeches I can’t remember her reasoning behind it all.

So my soul mate was codenamed Amos during one of our talks where I asked about his name and she, in her pompous way, explained she had no way of knowing that. That she only saw his soul and spirit. That I was lucky she even knew it was male.

I was eating Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies and suggested we used that rather than soul mate. Because whether or not I believed in what she said, hearing it over and over was freaky.

(Begin Flashback)

“Good Afternoon Margaret.” Karen stood at the other side of the kitchen counter as I stirred macaroni and cheese in a metal pot with a wooden spoon on medium heat.

“Good afternoon Blair, do you like macaroni and cheese?”

She gave it an appraised look. “I never tried it.”

“It’s pasta with processed cheese from a box. The only thing your mo-Karen’s mom had in the pantry.”

“Is there lemonade?” She peered at me anxiously.

I closed my eyes, remembering the contents in the pantry. “Yes, but its pink lemonade.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Grapefruit, I believe.”

“Is it good.” She asked cautiously.

“I don’t know, I don’t like lemonade no matter what flavor it is.”

“That’ll do, then.” She dismissed me, heading to the dining table and sitting down.

I brought out the container from the pantry and uncapped it.

“Margaret,” I shivered at the sound of my name said the way she does it. “Do you believe in love?”

“Of course.” I looked up from my mixing and stifled a laugh at the dead panned look on her face, creases on the sides of her mouth.

“Why do you ask?” a walked around the counter and handed her a glass of lemonade.

“We all have a soul mate, Margaret.”

My face lost it’s humor and I returned to the macaroni and cheese.

“Whether we meet them in this lifetime or not, they are always there.”
”Ok.” I placed a healthy portion in a bowl and served it to her, handing her a small green spoon that ended in the shape of a croc.

I sat across from her as she tried it. She chewed and when she swallowed and scooped up more, went on. “I have come in contact with your other half.”

I leaned my chin on my hand. “What are you talking about?”

Her cheeks turned red as she shoved spoonfuls and frowned; when she swallowed she waved the spoon in my face. “Don’t even consider telling me you don’t need anyone!”

“Shit.” she huffed as she stabbed the macaroni. “I need a cig.”

I watched her.

“Do you want to know about him or not?” She snapped angrily.

I waved my hand back at her for her to continue.

“You have no idea how lucky you are to have me…..” and she went on, proclaiming herself a martyr. I was almost going to drone her out when she actually spoke about the original subject. “……..He’ll be coming to you, aren’t you anxious?”

I nodded and took her glass and bowl away placing them in the sink.

“Margaret, he is young.”

“How young?”

“3 years younger.”

Maybe in ten years, a 3 year difference would mean little to nothing, but at my 18 and a half years, he would be an immature kid. “I don’t like younger men.” I was as nonchalant as manageable.

She hissed in anger. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? He is your soul mate! You liking him isn’t a liberty.”

I drew a bag of cookies from one of the cabinets. “Okay, so what’s his name?”

(End of Flashback)

And that’s how his name emerged. I stilled remember Karen’s pissed off face after I had asked that.

She scratched her chin in thought. “We can lead his spirit to you, what do you think?”

I frowned at her, she sipped her tea again and pursed her lips, boring her eyes into me.

“Well?”

“I think this is insane.”

She wrinkled her nose, tilting her head threateningly. “You are ungrateful! I had no on such as you to guide me and tell me the man I married would leave me because he wasn’t the one! I am here giving you the chance-”

She was shrieking but I was developing a headache. “Why?”

Shocked, she sat there. “What do you mean why?”

“Why are you bothering?”

I was being cocky and she knew it. She quivered with rage.

“It is not your place to question what is meant to be, follow my heed if you wish to find him!”

I was silent, watching her try to calm down by adding sugar cubes to her tea.

“I thought you said he would come to me.”

“And he has.” She sighed weakly. “He has traveled far to be where he is now, it is your job to capture him.”

“Capture? I’m not a pirate, you know.” I laughed aloud.

She sniffed angrily. “Enough. I will speak to you at some other moment.”

She closed her eyes.

The transitional nap that brings back Karen back to her normal six year old self.