Temperance thought on that for a moment, and then allowed it to leave her mind as quickly as it came. Could it even be a possibility, the thought lingered.
Violet watched the struggle play out in Temperance’s mind. She could always tell when her friend was having reservations about something. The two were bonded friends when their Mother’s had met when Temperance and Violet were only five. Ever since, they had been inseparable. Violet, the shy awkward type, and Temperance the extraverted free loving spirit, with a gift only God could have bestowed. The two together were a force to be recognized, their Mother’s would always say.
Temperance had the frame of a model, and glorious deep auburn hair that cascaded down her back in thick big waves. It framed Temperance’s high cheek bones and stubborn chin. Violet, on the other hand, was barely 5’5 with honey blonde hair, and bright emerald green eyes. She kept her hair cut in a chic bob that reached her shoulders, accentuating her round face. She liked simplicity, where as Temp enjoyed being a girl and all the trouble that comes with it.
“How long has your Mother actually known Hazel?” Temperance interrupted her thoughts.
“About ten years. She came across her shop one day when shopping around town,” Violet replied.
Temperance cocked her head, “It’s very unlike your mother to step into a place like that.”
Temperance sat back in the booth, holding her glass. “I’d like to talk with Lily about this. If you both claim Hazel is legit, and neither of you can determine why my gift is parting, might as well see what your Mama has to say about my reading,” she licked her lips, then shrugged her shoulder.
“Well, being telepathic doesn’t give me privy to see what’s going on with you. And Mama is just a healer, so I don’t know what else we can do Temp,” Violet said with desperation.
“I’m there with you my friend. I have no damn clue where to begin, and no idea where and who to go to in search for an answer,” she clenched her jaw, looking out the pane of the window in the café.
“We just need to narrow some things down Temp. Let’s go back to the shop and talk to Mom when we leave here.”
“Let me finish my drink first,” she sighed, and then remembered. “You’re buying don’t forget,” she added, winking to Violet.
“Yep, I know,” Violet said, reaching in her purse for her wallet. “Although, I think there may be more to the visit than you think.”
Temperance lifted her eyebrow, “how so?’
Violet shrugged her shoulder, “Something about Hazel that just made me feel safe, and that she was being truthful with your reading.” She turned her gaze to the street outside. “I really think you should look into what she said. I mean, what do you have to lose Temp?”
“Well, I think she is a strange bird, and I’m a bit skeptic, even with my open mind.” Her brows drew together. “Didn’t you find her a bit on the eccentric side?”
Violet laughed, “Of course Temp, she reads cards for a living. But look at us, we’re walking around life with gifts that are very rare and nearly unheard of, but we exist,” she said, placing some cash on the table for the waitress then.
“She said I was related to a Saint Violet,” Temperance stressed again. “A bloody Saint!”
She shook her head slowly, “I cannot even pinpoint a third cousin, let alone a Saint,” she said as an afterthought.
Violet tucked her tongue in her cheek, “Sure would be interesting to investigate what the hell she was going on about though,” Violet offered, hoping Temp would take the bait. When she didn’t, but continued to look out at the busy street, Violet continued on.
“There was one thing that struck me as odd while we were there,” Violet said.
“Hmm?” Temp voiced, still gazing outside.
“Hazel had this orb of light surrounding her… Which is good, but I couldn’t get a read on her,” Violet said, shaking her head. “I can pick up on most everyone’s thoughts. I’m surprised hers was like a void,” she breathed out, sighing heavily. “But it does happen, as my Mother reminds me of daily.” She grabbed her chap stick out of her purse and quickly put some on. “I guess I am thinking too much into it.”
“Speaking of your Mama, let’s head to the shop and have a talk with the woman,” Temperance said, getting up.
They both moved to leave, but were stopped there momentarily by a commotion occurring on the street outside. The voices were louder than usual, and they both looked in that direction. Temperance put her cardigan on, all the while, her eyes peering out the window.
“Something is happening,” Temperance stated aloud, walking toward the café’s doors. Violet followed her closely, quickly donning on her blazer as she walked. “I can feel it too,” she said as her and Temperance crested the side walk. There was a mass crowd outside, people in clusters; their voices alarmed and raised.
Temperance and Violet stood with their backs to the café observing the chaos. This was Mardi gras, so the vociferous of the crowd was something that was normal this time of year. Temperance saw that there was a man outside the streets carrying on about the sin of man and how the battle will come if the souls are not freed.
Young college students were mocking him, circled around him like prey.
They were all drunk. Entirely unaware of their lack of humanity, nor tact that would have been present if it weren’t for the spirits that they had overly consumed.
“Sin,” one man in the crowd mocked. “That will be me tonight, along with thousands of others!”
The crowd lit into a frenzy of laughter, all lifting their raised bottles in a salute.
A young blonde kid was patting his friend on the back and decided to join in on the joke.
“The only thing I’ll be battling with is my hangover tomorrow, man.”
Temperance moved in closer, trying to see the man in the center of the gathering.
“You will see,” the man continued. “You’re blind to the celebration. The souls will be harmed.”
Temperance got to the edge of the crowd; she looked over her shoulder for Violet, who was at her flank and trailing behind her steps. She nodded to Temperance, acknowledging she was there right behind her. Temperance could feel the sincerity in the man. He must have been no older than fifty, because he was only lightly gray, and had a nice strong physique. His attire was a bit frayed however. He had a tattered pair of jeans, with a red and blue flannel that was hastily donned, because the buttons were unaligned.
Temperance was able to get to the center, where the man stood clutching his bible tightly to his chest. He circled around, awkwardly. Perhaps he was mad, Temperance thought for a moment. Violet was shoulder to shoulder with Temperance now, each watching the man grow weary by the jests and ridicule of the crowd.
“Mardi Gras marks a holy day,” the man whispered, his voice falling faint. The crowd started to part, growing tired of the skeptical.
“He speaks truth, Temp,” Violet said, her green eyes locking with the man, whom was now sitting on the dirty curb of the street, looking defeated.
Temperance looked at him, and then to Violet, “You read him already?”
Violet nodded, seeing the orb of light encircle him, “He is not of this place.”
Temperance looked over to Violet sharply, “What are you talking about?”
Violet couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She slowly shook her head, swallowing hard. “His mind is filled with no sin.”
Temperance snickered, moving to the street parallel to the man now. “Every human has sin Violet.”