Chapter 14
River grinned at the noise of the kids’ chatter that filled the downstairs room.
They used it for all kinds of workshops, and she and Audrey had done her best to make it comfortable.
A mishmash array of beanbags, old chairs, and beat-up sofas lined the walls.
There were a couple desks, too, as well as lap trays.
“Let me get that,” Leo said, popping into the kitchen next to River. They picked up the tray laden with mugs and cookies.
“Thanks.” River picked up the coffee urn and followed Leo downstairs into the cacophony.
They set everything on the table, and River barely made it out of the way before the group descended on the food.
Several of them would hardly have eaten that day, and she was glad to see no one hanging back.
New kids always took a little time to settle in and get comfortable helping themselves.
But there hadn’t been anyone new in a while.
River plunged into an enormous beanbag and began shuffling the cards slowly. She listened and laughed, occasionally joining in, but mostly just let the kids settle into their safe space.
She felt Marina before she saw her. Energy, tightly wound and about as smooth as churned-up gravel, moved down the stairs well ahead of her body.
River watched, her breath hitching as Marina’s black heels came into view first, and she was treated to a slow reveal of Marina’s body as she made her way down.
It was like a piece of polished marble had dropped into a noisy, disheveled cave.
Normally, River would have gotten up, greeted her, and found a good chair for her.
Today, she stayed put. She gave her a quick smile and a nod. “You made it,” she said, continuing to lazily shuffle the deck in her hands.
Marina held up a box. “I brought my dinner.” She glanced around the room, her eyes shifting fast, her smile practiced. “Hey there,” she said to Leo, who didn’t smile back.
“Grab a seat. We were just about to get started.” River watched as Marina looked around and finally chose a discarded straight-backed chair up against a wall at the back.
She couldn’t have placed herself more outside the circle and remained in the room.
River was about to suggest a different chair and then mentally shrugged. It would probably be fine.
“All right, folks. Let’s mellow.” River reached over and lit the small sandalwood cone, and one of the kids lit the simple white candles in the middle of the circle. The group slowly grew quiet and still. “Who wants to start us off?”
“I do!” Jenny raised her hand, then pressed her palms together and placed them in front of her forehead. “We are grateful for what we have, we accept who we are, we help those in need, and we’re open to healing so we can be the best versions of ourselves.”
There was a murmur of agreement as the others lowered their hands from their foreheads, or unclasped them from their laps, or returned their palms from upturned to face down on their legs.
“That was nice, Jenny. Simple and clear.” River smiled at the girl who’d been nonvocal when she’d first arrived. Now she was not only one of the first to speak, she was also trying out for the debate team at school. “Anyone have anything to say before we start?”
The room was quiet for a moment, and then Tim sighed. “I went to a protest last week. I was totally ready, you know? Excited and stuff. But then shit kicked off, and it was so fucking scary. Like, I wondered what I was doing there.”
River nodded. These kids were political in a way her generation hadn’t been. “Protests are like that, especially right now. Want to talk about what happened?”
He scuffed at the worn reddish carpet with his equally worn sneakers. “Not really. But I decided that even though I was scared, I wasn’t going to leave. People were there, shoulder to shoulder, and it felt really good too. I’m going to do it again, but now I’ll know what I’m in for.”
“That’s really awesome.” River concentrated on him and pulled a card from the deck. She glanced at it and then showed it to him.
“The Fool.” He frowned and looked up at the ceiling. “Doing something stupid?” he finally asked.
“No,” Leo said, staring at the card. “It means taking a leap of faith. Or being open to a new journey.” They looked at River. “Right?”
“Right.” River was pretty sure Leo had some insight gifts of their own, but their life hadn’t been one that provided enough safety for them to dig into that possibility. Not until they’d started coming to Echoes. It might be that River needed to do some work with them to help develop those skills.
A loud crunching sound came from the back of the room, and everyone turned to look for the source. Marina stopped chewing, wide-eyed, like she’d been caught doing something naughty. “Sorry,” she mumbled around her mouthful of tortilla chips.
The group began to laugh, and River joined in.
Marina set the box of food on the floor beside her chair. “I didn’t realize the room would be so quiet and my food would be so loud. Please go on,” she said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin.
“I should have warned you to bring soft food.” River winked and then pulled another card. “Page of Swords.” She looked around the group. “Someone having some issues with communication? Maybe with a good friend?”
Zac raised her hand a little. “That’s me.” She looked around. “Unless it’s someone else?” A couple people shook their heads, and everyone remained quiet. “Just me then.” She sighed and stared at her balled-up fists in her lap.
“Hey now.” River tapped Zac’s foot with her own. “Unclench and talk to us.”
Zac proceeded to explain the fight she’d had with her best friend, who wanted her to go on a double date with boys from their class. “I’ve told her I’m gay. But it’s like she goes deaf every time I say it.”
“I hate that.” Keith, a young transguy frowned. “Like, they don’t know how to handle it, so they just pretend you haven’t said anything. They just…ignore you.”
River pulled another card. “Five of Pentacles. You’re feeling left out, ignored?”
He nodded and looked at Zac. “I get it.”
She glanced at him and gave a small, sad smile. “I know.”
There was an energy shift, and River looked up from the deck. Marina wiped at her eyes. Her energy had gone from angry rubble to sad quicksand, like she was being pulled under by the weight of the kids’ emotions. Good. She needs to remember how to feel.
The rest of the hour went on that way. The kids talked a little, and River used the cards to keep them going.
At the end, she put the deck in the middle of the floor, between the candles, and the kids all picked one.
They’d focus on whatever that card had to teach them until the next time they got together.
“Okay, guys. Don’t forget to grab a baggie and share out the rest of the cookies to take with—”
There was a shriek, and then a crack, and then a thud.
Marina’s chair had given way, one of the legs snapping in half, and it had flipped her backward and sideways, dumping her in a heap.
River swallowed her laugh as the kids jumped up to help. She caught a glimpse of thigh, thanks to Marina’s skirt riding up, before the kids were there haphazardly trying to help her to her feet. Guess the chair wasn’t okay after all.
Marina stood, and the kids moved away. Only then did River notice the thick cheese acting like glue as it stuck uneaten nachos, complete with black olives, to Marina’s hip.
“Justice,” Leo fake-whispered to River as they walked by, tray of dirty mugs in hand.
River couldn’t help but agree. She grabbed a roll of paper towels and handed them to Marina.
“I need to get the kids set to head home, and then I’ll come down and help you clean up…
” She grinned and raised her eyebrows, then backed out of the room as Marina glared at her.
But there was a twitch to her lips that suggested she just might smile once River left the room.
She took the stairs two at a time and stood on the sidewalk, watching carefully as one group of kids walked off, heading toward the L train station, and another group piled into Leo’s car. They’d all check in using the WhatsApp message board set up specifically for them to say they were home safe.
She breathed in the chill in the night air, nodded toward a ghostly woman drifting down the street, her hands held up in a pleading gesture. River watched her disappear into the night and then turned back to go into the shop.
“Turnips and cheese!” she yelled as she nearly crashed into Marina, who was standing silently behind her. She put her hand over her chest. “You’re as silent as the dead.”
Marina winced and stepped back. “Creepy comparison.” She followed River back into the shop, and then, once River had locked the door, back down to the basement. She was still limping slightly, but River made sure not to offer assistance.
As River started stacking chairs, Marina began gathering plates. “So, can I ask you something personal?”
River shrugged. “Why not? You’ll probably find out most everything about me when you try to pull this place from under me.” She blanched a little at the touch of vitriol in her tone, but she didn’t apologize.
Marina was silent for a moment. “Tell me about your…powers. Or whatever it is. What do you do?”
River glanced up, unsure if she should divulge that.
But then, what they offered in the shop was on the website.
If Marina wanted to use it against her, it wouldn’t be difficult to find that information anyway.
“I’m a medium. I can see and speak to souls that have passed on.
I’m also a clairsentient empath, meaning I can read energies and emotions, and I’m an intuitive tarot reader.
That last one is mostly easy because of the other stuff. ”
Marina continued to gather the detritus of the evening, and she looked thoughtful rather than judgmental. “Can you read the future? Or thoughts, like Audrey?”
“No. I use the tarot cards to get an idea about someone’s path, and my openness to the spiritual realm means it’s usually pretty accurate. And I’d hate to have Audrey’s gift. It nearly drove her to—” River shook her head. It wasn’t her story to tell, and certainly not to Marina.
Marina’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t respond right away.
They headed back toward the kitchen in silence.
Finally, she shook her head. “I wish I could understand it. I don’t believe in ghosts.
I think once you’re dead, you’re worm food.
The soul is a fiction, something made up to help us understand human behavior.
” She looked at River steadily, clearly waiting for an argument or a rebuke.
When none came, she sighed. “And as for energies and emotions…that’s just learning to read body language.
It might be a talent for seeing the minute expression changes or even physical shifts in someone’s posture, but there’s no… woo-woo involved.”
River half smiled at her. “Woo-woo?”
Marina gave her a small grin. “Yeah. All this.” She waved toward the darkened shop. “You don’t seem angry.”
River frowned. “Angry? At what?”
“At me. For telling you what I think.” Marina shrugged on her coat and kept her gaze averted.
“Why would I be?” River opened the door and followed Marina out.
She locked it, then turned to her. “Marina, I’ve been told all my life that I’m crazy.
That I’m weird. That I don’t belong. When you can talk to the dead, believe me when I say you aren’t the most popular kid in school.
When you know someone is lying or hiding things from you, it definitely cramps a relationship.
Everyone has a right to privacy, but it isn’t something I can contain.
I can’t stop it or put a lid on it. It’s just who I am.
I’ve learned when to bring things up and when to let them go.
” She took a shaky breath. She hadn’t had to justify her existence in a long time.
“And that makes for a pretty lonely existence sometimes. But I won’t, and can’t, change for anyone. ”
Marina’s eyes searched hers. Strangely enough, her energy was quiet, contemplative.
It was the least combative it had been since they’d met.
“I like that you’re who you are no matter what,” she finally said softly.
“Not many people get that option.” She stepped back, her car keys in hand.
“Thank you for inviting me tonight. I have a lot to think about. Good night.”
She waved, got in her car, and drove away.
River sighed and leaned against the building. Marina’s energy at that last moment had reached out to her, begging to be cradled. For someone who didn’t believe in a soul, Marina’s was crying out to be loved.