poemtry and prose

The phone rings and i jump.

I quickly put the purple ribbon back into the Book and set it down, darting off to get the receiver. In my haste to start reading more, i had forgotten to set the phone next to me in case people did want to call me.

“Hello,” i say yawning.

“Kendra?” Sam’s voice calls out to me from the other end.

I finish my yawn, “Hiya Sam, I’ve been reading that book all day, it is rather interesting. Is it customary to include biographical details mixed in with the bits of majick?” I had to know because reading some of that book seemed more like a young woman’s diary than a Book that could teach anyone majick.

“Um, yes, some people do place the majickal teachings within context of their lives. It’s all very flexible and i guess the author wanted to include that part down as well. I tend to keep a few different books for that purpose. One is filled with my basic majickal notes and then i have one for my daily ramblings and then another for tarot and rune stuff.”

“Really, that is quite interesting. So what is up, i take it this is not exactly a social call?” I wanted to get down to business because i was not in the mood to just hang out on the phone chatting. That story in the book was just as interesting as the bits it contained on majick and i really wanted to get back into reading it.

“Um, sorta, yeah. I did ask around the community about the name Rayne and its origins and so far I have not gotten very far. But that does not mean that no one may know something. Since i am at work i have not had a chance to surf the Internet to see what it has to say. But i did want to know if you wanted to come down here and maybe meet some of the people who may shed some more information on the stuff found in the book. What do you say?”

I glance over at my clock. And pull my head back in surprise. It’s only 3 pm in the afternoon I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Sam, i will try and be there within a half-hour. After all i gotta get dressed; yes i am still in my pajamas, and grab the next bus. Does that work?”

I hear Sam yell out the info to someone in the room. “Sure, dahling. We will be here waiting for you. Seeya soon, chau.”

Static reappears on the phone. I click it off and drop it on the counter. Staring at the clock again, i figure i better get ready fast. So i grab a pair of jeans from the closet and grab my favorite black chenille sweater. Not knowing how cold it is outside, i decide that i would rather be hot than to be stuck with a cold. Going to school and doing research sucks when you have a massive cold. Then i toss my black doc marten’s boots on and grab my backpack. My green pen, a new blank notebook and the Book of Shadows all get put into the backpack and i also toss my wallet in it. I have no idea how long i will be out for the day, but i am not going to take any chances of being stuck without money in case i need food.

I make sure Mosi has enough food and water for the next day and give her a good scratch for a good bye. She “purrrrupts” at me and stretches out one of her paws.

I grab the keys of the table and rush out the door, locking it behind me. I run down the stairs saying hello to some of the neighbors as i streak past them. Not knowing how much time i have until the next bus that takes me downtown to where the Wishpering Shadows is located, i continue running to the bus stop. Two high school aged punks who are smoking are at the stop when i get there. They are laughing and talking about nothing and i try to ignore them. I look up at the white bus stop sign with the Met’s logo and bus line schedule stamped into the metal. Give or take a few minutes, i guess that the next bus going my way arrives in a few minutes.

My rushed breath exhales out from me causing small pools of smoke to waif in the cold air. I am glad i wore this sweater tonight, i think. Traffic is light for this time of day on a Saturday. There seem to be only a handful of cars driving by the street my studio complex is off of. It is unusual to not see all sorts of cars and trucks whizzing by 10 miles over the speed limit. Especially on a Saturday night. I do remind myself that it is getting close to terms and rationalize the lack of traffic out that way.

The black and red painted bus pulls up next to me. A billboard advertising Smithers’ Auto Care glows pink on the black background. I giggle at the sign. Smithers is a local gay friendly and owned Auto Center that brings all sorts of controversy to the city. When they started doing these black and purple billboards on the busses and benches, many antigay groups were highly annoyed saying that it brings the quality of the town and what it stands for down and promotes unhealthy family values. Of course, the government could not do anything about it so luckily Smithers was free to continue promoting their stores with the oddly colored billboards. I hear it helped get them more patrons.

I sit somewhat close to the front of the bus. I am not really in the mood to deal with the two high school kids and their banter. I relax into my seat and watch the world pass me by outside in the cold. The bus winds and weaves its way through town, picking up a few people here and there. The high school boys get off at the Mall stop. Guess it’s that sort of day to go wandering through the halls, shopping for nothing while hanging with your friends. I remember when i used to do that with my girlfriends. It seems to long ago.

The bus takes a left turn and i see my stop coming up ahead. The sun begins to set early these days and it is dusk by the time i get off the bus. The old town lamp-style lights begin to light the walkways. I pull my jacket on closer around my chest. The Wishpering Shadows bookstore is two blocks on the other side of Lombard from where i am. So i check for traffic before crossing over and dart across the street. Briskly i walk towards the store, trying not to notice any of the beggars who usually sit outside the stores asking for handouts. The store’s hanging sign, a piece of parchment with a rune or Chinese character appears above my head and i am finally at the store. Sam spots me from the inside and waves to me to come in.

The walls of the Wishpering Shadows are eclectically painted. And they are shaped in odd corners as the store is not exactly square. One wall is painted purple and another is green. The concrete walls do show through in spots but it just adds to the artiness. One wall has cork board attached to it’s midriff, a painted celtic border decorates it’s outside. Various notes and business cards requesting attendance and attention are posted. Three clip boards sit beneath the cork board each listing a class name, description, date and price offered. A small list of names and contact information lines some of the pages. I never realized just how many people where into reading tarot or some other alternative healing-based practice or that there were quite a diverse group of people who wanted to learn majick and WICCA.

Some of the walls have huge paintings on them. Some depict angels, Goddesses and faeries. Others show distorted faces of people or elegant bliss. All have some sort of carving or statuette attached to wherever the artist deemed the center of the painting to be. Some of them have sticks with stone and feathers dangling from them. Others have dolls attached to them in various pious positions. I’m not sure i like these images and a small shudder creeps down my spine.

The light in the store is dim. The traditional halogen lamps commonly familiar to most commercial bookstores do not have a place here. Instead there are several track lights running over the ceiling and a few lamps clamped to the exposed piping. Tiny track lights shaped in various shapes of bugs and stars and triangles dangle down about 2 inches from their wires. They sort of remind me of miniature Industrial marionettes. Most of the lamps hover over various key shelves located around the store and near the checkout counter highlighting these stations.

Several bookcases line the walls closest to the front of the store. Alluring potential customers from the street. New books, old books and oversized books line the shelves. Stones and figurines and other occultist objects sit on top of the shelving and amongst the books. I wander over to one shelf, the small hand printed signs read, “General--WICCA, General Majick, Tantric Studies,” and the list goes on and on. Some of the topics i am becoming familiar with, others are completely foreign to me. Maybe one day I will wander into the store and fully understand what all these topics mean. Whether or not i chose to study them further. A few shelves even display tarot boxes or other keepsake style containers. Another shelf is marked Smudge Sticks and tiny bundles of sage, juniper pushes and pine wrapped with hemp string fill the holes. There are candles and incense containers adorning other tables and shelves where books do not rest.

The center of the store, etched in the floor sits a gigantic pentagram rug. The cement floor makes the huge rug stand out almost like an eyesore. Placed almost kitty-corner on the rug sit two more cases. I guess these cases display the high price and most interesting objects the Wishpering Shadows has to offer. One contains several rocks and crystals, of various sizes and types, all neatly polished and shiny. They are gorgeous stones all of which glisten unnaturally in the small light from above. The other case displays collectable items and figurines. Some wands, some knives, and cups. Again, these have symbols and markings on the ranging from pentagrams to weird Chinese characters. The bottom shelf in this case, displays a few handmade books. Presumably used by the store’s patrons as Books of Shadows or bought as journals for family gifts. These books look similar to the one that is still inside my backpack. The binding however, is slightly different and more ornamental, more along the Asian style of bookbinding. Some of the books are tiny, with wrap around covers.

There is a smaller back room behind the center two display cases. Unlike the front part of the store, with it’s walls painted bright colors. This area is marked overhead by a black board, with golden dragon scrolling painted into it. Purple curtains drape down, marking the barrier between this area and the back room. The curtains are drawn open, so i get a clear image of what that part of the store looks like. Unlike the main room with its track lighting overhangs, this room is darkly lit with only a few table lamps sitting on two corner tables. All the walls are painted black, and there are only two paintings hanging in this room, both are of nature scenes. To my right, two chairs and a sofa sit against the wall. Pillows and throw blankets rest haphazardly over them, as if they were worn with love. A small coffee table is thrown in the room, and it appears as if it has been donated. Across the room another chair has been placed, this time a crushed, purple velvet padded cover sits tied to the seat and back of the chair. A wooden dream catcher hangs from the ceiling above the chair, two feathers dangling in the store’s heater ventilation. It appears as if this is a classroom.

The last corner of this room contains a smaller table, built into the wall, with booth style chairs, also painted black seated to either side of the table. More curtains hang from the ceiling here allowing this small confessional style room to be blocked off if needed. A small tarot deck sits a top its black velvet pouch. i gather this is where Sam reads cards and runes to her clients. i like it, the way it’s set up is very friendly and inviting, much like the way my studio feels when i sit down to read or study.

The earthy aroma of incense hangs thick in the air of the store. Like all other New Age-y type stores i have been too, the Wishpering Shadows is no different, with its constant smell of burnt candles and incense steadily burning throughout all business hours. It is a smell that is both comforting and a bit overpowering. My nose sniffles with the mix of fumes. Surprisingly, no one else but Sam and me are in the store. Which is a contrast to the chatter i heard from here over the phone almost an hour ago.

Sam sits on a stool behind two counters. One contains silver and gold rings and jewelry. Stones buried within the metal glimmer in the light. I see rings with tiny pentacles on them, ankhs, and moons set in various styles. There are plain silver rings designed with Celtic knots. And there are necklaces again ranging from plain chains with stones dangling from them to ornate and intricate Celtic knot work wrapped around stones and pentagrams. A few crystal balls sit on stands on the second shelf. Tags describing the stones and what their properties are sit in front of each ball. The lighting from the back of the case show wisps of smoke within each stone. The last shelf contains a few more metal knives sit on the red velvet lining the bottom shelf of the case.

The second case sits deep. Boxes and other books, i presume, sit stacked beneath a black cloth at varying heights. Tarot cards, other divinatory tools and runes stones are carefully laid out in fancy displays, their boxes neatly shrink wrapped in plastic. The rune stones seem to be designed by hand and are etched in various glass pieces and stones. Some of the etchings are lined in paint, others are clear, just a slight discoloration appearing in the stones. Like the other cases, name cards sit in front of the runes and their soft bags, giving descriptions of the materials and prices. Sitting a top of this case were sample decks of the cards the store offered for sale. Their edge were worn with time and abuse from having been flipped through in time. Some of the cards were bent and others were torn and almost falling off the big O-rings that kept the sample decks together.

Two shelves, built into the concrete is behind her, a small worn stereo sits on it, with a cd case next to it. Currently the soft sounds of a flute fill the air accompanied by a didgeridoo. A few older books and some other tarot decks sit on the lower shelf, placed just slightly out of reach of the kleptomaniacs’ wandering five-finger discount hands. Sam watches me the entire time i wander throughout the store, examining everything in almost minute detail. Speaking on words and paying almost little to no attention to her. I walk up to the counter and she is grinning wide, a Cheshire cat sort of a smile that tells me she has discovered something important in the time she got off the phone with me to the moment she waved at me to come into the store.

“Okay, Sam,” I start, carefully setting the backpack down on the floor besides me. “You’ve got that look on your face. You know the one.”

Sam’s smile breaks out into laughter. “Oh it is nothing. I was just watching you do the same thing i about did when i first wandered into this store and this scene a few years back.”

“Oh, I see.” My face flushes red.

“Actually, I did find out a little something for you. Give me one second.” Sam hops down from her stool perch and goes back to one of the walls that has drapes near it. She pulls back the drapes to expose a door and goes through it. A minute later, she wanders back out with a piece of paper.

“Saw this while i was researching the mysterious Rayne name online.”