Oracle in the Mist (6 page)

“He had a good point though, didn't he David?”

“About what?”

“Why are you so uptight? I think it's a very good question.”

She stopped walking and looked him straight in the eye. She couldn't stand his superior attitude any longer.

“What do you mean?” he demanded, “It's not that I'm uptight, as you put it, but that this is just logic, Bobby. If he got a job like everyone else and worked hard he could get himself out of this situation, couldn't he?”

“But maybe he can't get a job; maybe he has some mental problem or disease that holds him back. Maybe everyone is against him like he said. Don't you see how judgemental you're being? You don't know his story; in fact you don't know anything about him. Maybe he can't change for a very good reason and maybe he speaks like that because that was how he was raised to speak. You can't just go around putting everyone and everything into little boxes and labelling them.”

“Gosh, Bobby, why are you taking his side anyway? For all we know it was
his
father who kidnapped those children. I mean, we just don't know, do we?”

“Oh my God, you are impossible!” Bobby turned to walk away from him. She could feel her temper building and she knew from past experience that it wasn't going to be pretty if she lost it. She would say something she regretted later, for sure. Count to ten, she told herself, count to ten and hold your temper, Bobby.

“Is it because you've got Celtic roots too, is that it Bobby? Come back so we can talk!” he shouted, equally furious. She didn't turn back. What she wanted to say was that she thought he was a snob who took his privileged upbringing for granted but she didn't want to have to be the one to say that. It was better for him to work that out for himself. She took giant steps all the way home and when she closed the front door behind her she breathed a sigh of relief and was glad to be in her quiet home alone once more.

B
obby was in two minds about seeing David again. She couldn't imagine how she could be friends with someone who was so different to her. But her reservations were soon forgotten when he arrived on her doorstep the next day, apologising sincerely for the way he had acted.

“Can't we just try to put aside our differences at least until we have a solution to our puzzle? I see how you were right about how I do have neat little categories for everything. It is true, I admit that. But Bobby, what you have to understand is that this is the way I've been brought up. My father and grandfather were doctors and all of my seven older brothers were educated at universities and went on to become doctors, lawyers, newspaper journalists and so on. They are all selfmade men. Even my mother, who is the only female in my life, is bookish and a published author of science reference manuals. We sit at the dinner table for hours and talk about world news, the stock market and politics.

“So …” Bobby couldn't imagine where this was going.

“We have done that ever since I can remember; it's the world I grew up in and it's who I am,” explained David, desperate for her to have a better understanding of his life.

“So what's that got to do with you? Does your whole family hate anyone who doesn't measure up to their own standards and if so do you have to be a sheep?” she demanded. She could see that he was confused now. He blinked heavily and frowned at her. “It's not that they hate people but they have a very strong work ethic that's all. There's nothing wrong with that and I don't want to be different to that … I think.”

“Okay, I do understand David, I really do. But surely you see that it's only that you have the parents and grandparents that you have, that you have those privileges.” He looked at her puzzled.

“You can't blame someone for something that he had no control over; do you see what I mean?” Bobby persisted, “Just because they are born into a different family than yours, is that their fault? In fact we can even go as far as saying that it was just sheer luck that you were born into the family that you were born into, but that doesn't make you better or smarter than anyone else.” She waited for him to absorb this information.

“Yes, well to be honest there have been times in my life where I have had some moments of insight but I suppose in the end I am very limited because of the way my parents have brought me up.” He sat and stared at the floor and paused for a moment as though deep in thought. “But now you've got me thinking about new things, Bobby, which is good. I mean, just think if I had never met you I might have gone the rest of my life not realising what a complete and utter snob I am
and
that it really isn't right for cows to have to give the milk for their calves to humans
and
that we all have a unique destiny and are not necessarily here to just float about on the breeze.” She could see that he was becoming excited with all of this new information. “So can I assume you realise what a hypocrite you've been as well?” she teased.

“How's that?” he asked earnestly.

“You say it's not right for a man to blame his background or upbringing for his circumstances and yet that is exactly what you just did.” He smacked his hand to his mouth in horror and then started to laugh.

They both laughed then and the tension between them dissolved. Then he knelt down in front of her and spoke in Italian, appealing for her forgiveness.

“Mi dispiace, perdonami, spero che si puo essere amici.”

“You don't have to beg me,” she said even though she had no idea what he had just said. His eyes said it all. She could feel the colour rising into her face and yet somehow she could also feel herself softening towards him. He took her hand in his and, looking into her eyes, said, “I'm not begging, but will you forgive me and still be my friend?”

“Yes, of course. I'm sure I make mistakes too and I'm constantly learning new things from you as well, so I guess it's a twoway street, isn't it?” she said quickly and then snatched her hand back. Italians seemed to have no idea of personal space.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“I think you should have some background information about me too. You see I have spent a lot of years travelling all over the world with Daphne to some very exotic places and my childhood has been far from normal. I've learnt about all kinds of different cultures and religions and have taken little pieces from each to become the person that I am today. My mother's main area of interest is spirituality and all that it involves.” She stopped to light a stick of incense and put it on the table beside her. “I can talk about chakras, mediumship, meditation, yoga and clairvoyance all day long because that's what I've been taught about. That's what I know.” She paused to catch her breath. She could tell from the look on his face that he had no idea what she was talking about.

“I'm sorry to have to say this, Bobby, but I've been brought up to believe that unless something can be proven scientifically then it just doesn't exist, unless we're talking about something that's in the minds of lunatics and Satanists. But now I can see that it's time to open my mind more and Bobby …” he looked at her imploringly, “I'd like to be a student in your world but maybe there are things that I can teach you too.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said smiling. She was relieved to be talking all this through.

“We have an agreement then. Shake on it.” He offered his hand and they shook hands.

“So where's your mum right now?” he asked.

“She's with a client in the kitchen.”

“A client?” he asked.

“Yes, she's doing an angel card reading.” She noticed his apprehension.

“Oh don't worry; she won't come riding in here on a broomstick and take your eyeballs for her latest spell.”

David was taken aback at first but then he realised she was joking and he relaxed again.

“Okay … so what is an angel card reading?” She could see he was really trying to learn.

“Right, well it's where Daphne lays out her cards for a client and then, by looking at the pictures and tuning into the voice of her guides, can tell them exactly what is coming up for them in their future.”

“Right and what are ‘guides' then, may I ask?”

“Yes of course. Guides are spiritual beings that live in the ether and communicate with each and every one of us all of the time. If you develop your psychic muscle, which we all have by the way, you can tune into the voice of your guide and you can learn about all kinds of things.” Bobby hoped that this explanation wasn't too weird for him.

“Right … I see,” he said frowning and clearly he didn't see at all. He began to scratch his head and rub his eyes again.

“Look I'll show you,” Bobby said and picked up her cards from the table beside her. She would give him a demonstration.

“So, you're telling me that you can tell my future right now just by looking at some cards? Are the guides talking to you right now?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, I have the gift too. If I just take a moment to centre myself,” she said, taking a deep breath and then she held the cards to her chest and laid them out.

“Yes, I see. It says here that you are going to be sent away to boarding school soon because eventually you're hoping to be a scientist of some sort, maybe a marine biologist or something like that and of course there are no schools around here. It also talks of the fact that your mother homeschools you because she wishes to protect you from the local children who she fears may have a negative impact on you.” Bobby also saw other things too, such as the fact that he had just met a girl with whom he felt a strong connection. She chose not to mention that though. It would be too awkward as she was quite sure that the girl was her. It was times like this that Bobby almost regretted her gift. To see such deep emotion laid out in the cards …

“What? How can that be?” He glanced around the room and then picked up each card to look underneath it and on its back.

“It's all right here,” Bobby said, smiling.

“Yes, but you've just worked that out by sorting through all of the other information I've already given you about me — and the rest was just a lucky guess,” he insisted, at the same time checking underneath all of the cards all over again.

“Ha, I knew it was impossible for you to change. I was right,” she pounced.

“No, no, no, not at all. Okay yes … I suppose you're right. But I am trying to understand Bobby; you've got to give me that.”

“Yes, at least you're trying. That's good. But now I want to try you with something else.” She hadn't intended on showing anyone the crystal ball as yet but before she knew it, she had become swept up in the moment.

“I'll be back in a minute,” she said as she bounded up the stairs. She really had longed to have someone with whom to share her discovery, she had to admit to herself. When she sat down again, she was quite breathless.

“Where did you go?” he asked curiously. She took the ball out from inside her jacket and held it up in front of their faces so they could have the best view of it.

“What!” David exclaimed, “It's beautiful. What is it? Where did it come from?”

“Well, you'll never guess,” answered Bobby excitedly. “I found it with the newspaper articles in the attic of this house.”

“It's extraordinary. What is it?”

“Yes it is and I've just been dying to tell someone. It's a crystal ball, used to tell the future. I have a feeling my grandmother, Ina, had the gift as well although why this has been hidden away in the attic, I can't say.”

“Yes. And look at this beautiful fancy writing. What does it say?” David leant in close to the ball to decipher the old fashioned print.

“Oracle in the Mist,” he said, quite loudly and clearly. “What on earth does that mean?”

Right at that moment the mists started to swirl within the crystal ball as they had done the day before when Bobby had found it.

“What's happening?” David asked, jumping back in the seat and sounding alarmed.

“I wish I knew,” answered Bobby, equally alarmed. “This happened when I was looking at the ball the other day too but I convinced myself that I was just imagining it.”

“How peculiar,” David said as he took the ball and turned it upside down and all around. Again the mists exited the ball and began to swirl all around the room.

Suddenly the children heard the ball calling their names, quietly at first and then louder and with more intensity,
“Bobby-David-Bobby-David-Bobby-David!”

“This can't be happening,” David said. “You're playing some kind of trick on me, aren't you Bobby? Tell me that's what this is?” But he could see by the shocked look on her face and the way that she was recoiling back on the couch as well that she was just as surprised and scared as he was.

“Bobby-David-Bobby-David-Bobby-David!”
it went on and on.