The Cardinal Will Tell All. Carol Smith

      Chapter 2

      Dream of the One

      Dreams are like videos; they are films when you close your eyes. Or they can be places where you can go when your body needs a change of pace. Here I am again looking at a cabin in the forest. The ground around feels so real. And there he is. His back is turned to me, but then he turns around, and he is speaking, but no sound is to be heard! I note his features; he is handsome and has smooth dark-ebony skin with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes. He is smiling as he talks. He lifts his arm, and on his hand, a cardinal, and in the other hand, he has seeds. There is a cardinal on his shoulder, the right one. And other cardinals are enjoying the seeds with the bird feeder.

      I look toward the cabin. Four cutout hearts on a purple door. They are of different sizes with glass in between. It is a beautiful place. The cabin has two stories with the first-floor roof being flat with a balcony and a metal railing with vines and plants, and on top of the railing sits a gray tabby. It opens its mouth but again no sound. Nothing about him or the cabin feels scary. It feels like I’ve been there before.

      The two cardinals that were on him moved to the bird feeder. And then he walks toward me. His blue eyes are intense. My heart beats faster. I can feel his hands holding my arms, and his face moves closer and then ringing. I hear ringing, and I wake up. It is the alarm on my clock.

      Darn it! Well, that was different! I think to myself.

      Triton hops on the bed and looks and me, and on the other side is Jade, she meows.

      Yes, I know, dear ones, it’s breakfast time!

      I get up, and I run for the kitchen with two cats hot on my heels. I get our breakfast ready. While they eat, I light the incense and a candle, and I greet the goddess, the ancestors, and the house. The smell of sandalwood drifts through the house. I start my coffee with the dream fresh in my head.

      As I scramble my eggs, I think, So I saw his face this time.

      Smiling and blushing a little at the thought, I reach for a box of sprouts, then grab my cream from the fridge, and I turn on the kitchen television, and my phone rings. It is Cybelle.

      “Hey, girl,” she says in her most southern drawl. “I called to find out if you would like to go to the nursery with me?”

      “Yes,” I tell her, “that sounds fine, but I need to talk to you. I had that dream again.”

      “Oh really, again?” she says.

      But then I hear my brother’s voice in the background saying, “Again? What’s going on?”

      I yell into the phone, “Hi, Keith!”

      Poor Cybelle, we are a mess. And she married into us wild and crazy people.

      “Hello, sis, are you okay?” Keith says.

      “He says hello and wants to know if you are okay. Yes, she is okay!” Cybelle chimes in before I could answer.

      “I see you’re getting the hang of it!” I say laughing.

      “Yes, I am,” she chimes back.

      Keith can be heard laughing in the background. But then she says, “I get the sense that the dream has changed?”

      “Yes,” I tell her, “I got to see his face this time. He had rich, smooth dark-ebony skin with blue eyes and blond hair.”

      “Oh my, sounds very interesting,” she says.

      “So his hands weren’t dirty, he is just a luscious dark-skinned person.”

      I could hear Keith saying, “Who are you guys talking about?”

      “Nothing!” we both say together.

      He laughs. “You women and your secrets! All right, keep it then.”

      “I see you sticking out your tongue, Keith!” I yell.

      “Damn, she’s good!” I hear him say, and Cybelle starts laughing. Then she says, “I will pick you up at nine, is that okay?”

      “Yes, that will be fine, thank you. I will see you later.”

      We both say goodbye and hang up.

      And she did pick me up promptly at nine in her little green Chevette.

      My goodness, do they even make these cars anymore?

      Cybelle and her happy little ride. She and I have been best friends since grade school and beyond. My brother, Keith, was always teasing her. Who would have thought they would marry each other!

      Guys, why can’t they be honest about their feelings? I thought to myself.

      He is such a varmint but a good one for her, and he loves her. No kids, but they spoil the cat like she was one—Ms. Mindy. Family members would like to see them have kids; they both decided that was not for them. The two of them get slot of flack for that choice. But in my case the questions asked is why don’t you settle down and get married?” And people ask me, “Why are you still single?”

      Keith and I have three older sisters who are married. One has two children, a boy and a girl, and is very important in her church. A deacon’s wife and is always saying that if I leave the devil’s practice, I may find a man in the Lord. Thank you, but no, I am happy, and yes, I do have lonely days but not always. I love my magical life and two wild cats who will make sure I am never too bored. I have had good and bad experiences, and I have a secret that they don’t know nor my friends either, just the cats.

      I get into the car.

      “Hey, girl!” I say to her.

      “Hey yourself,” she answers back.

      And I look around and ask, “When you gonna clean your car?” I tease her.

      “When it needs it,” she says laughing.

      Cybelle is the only person I know who has a car that has, well, everything.

      Let’s see, she has two cups. One has sage, and the other has different stones in them. Then there is a catnip sock—Mindy’s of course. A collar not on Mindy, a pair of sandals, a bell and bells on the mirror with two pentacles, a rabbit’s foot not on the rabbit, poor guy. Assorted papers, and sitting in the back seat is Ms. Mindy!

      “Hello, Mindy!” I say.

      She meows a greeting back.

      We get to Lynn’s Garden shop close to nine forty-five. Now Lynn’s is one of those nurseries that can take you away from the rest of the planet. It is so huge and lovely, and Lynn, the owner, is a garden witch who knows her flowers, vegetables, herbs, and trees and will always make everyone feel like they have known her for years. Her favorite color is green and is always wearing it. She wears green down to her hat and gloves, even her hair is a dark hunter green. And she loves green tea and veggies. She is also a pescatarian; that is someone who, along with veggies, has fish or seafood as the only meat source. I have eaten her dishes, and they are very good.

      Me and my sister-in-law