The Skye in June (31 page)

“
Whadda ya want? I don’t have all day,” Mary said roughly, knowing what they wanted. She was not one of Mary’s favorite customers. The girl complained too much about the quality of her products.

“
Got some bennies?” the gangly guy asked.

The girl said quickly,
“Weed, too.”

Mary opened her big suede handbag and delved deeply into it as she joked with the guy about his ta
ttered jeans being so dirty they’d stand up by themselves. Finally, she handed him what he wanted with one hand and took his money with the other.

“
Cool. Thanks. Hey Mar, I swear, ya shoulda come with us last night. Bob Dylan is so slick!” the guy exclaimed.

The girl rose from the pavement.
“Shit. All this talk! It’s cold. Come on. Let’s go get high. Bring your friend, too.”

“
Naw. I’m high already,” Mary said. Her dilated pupils conveyed the truth of her statement. “Besides, my little sister don’t do drugs. It interferes with her visions. She’s on a natural high,” she said proudly, putting her arm around June’s shoulders.

“
Yeah, right! Like whadda ya vision about me?” the snooty girl said challengingly.

“
It’s not real good when people are on drugs,” June said, rejecting the request. She was not about to share her precious energy with this haughty person.

“
She can read your aura,” Mary said twirling her hair around her finger.

June knew her sister was leading the girl along, trying to get her to part with some more money.

“That’s bull!” the girl retorted putting her hands on her hips.

“
You don’t even know what an aura is,” Mary taunted, keeping the girl’s interest.

The girl stood directly over June.
“Yeah, do it then,” she said as the wind blew her short skirt even higher.

A flash of hot anger hit June
’s stomach, stirring up the familiar feelings she had when ridiculed for her abilities. In the past she had been comforted with what Mrs. G and Sister Noel had told her. “People who scoff at your psychic gifts are actually afraid of them.”

Good, be afraid of me, she thought. She als
o surmised the girl shared Maggie’s egotistical belief her beauty allowed her privileged behavior. Slyly, June scrutinized her up and down. She felt assured she could put the arrogant girl in her place.

In a sweet voice, June said,
“Okay, I’ll tell you this…maybe you should go to the clinic.”

The couple looked at each other astounded.
“Shit!” they said in unison.

“
Man, we just got tested for the clap,” the guy said.

Mary guffawed loudly. It was on the tip of her tongue to interest them in a reading, but the seer was not finis
hed. She had another prediction and knew this one would hurt.

“
When she gets pregnant,” June tossed her chin at the girl, “it won’t be his. It’ll be…” Her eyes drifted beyond the couple and upward to a gray sky. A fierce gush of wind ripped down the street, temporarily clearing away the fog. “…Roger. You know him, right?” Her eyes focused on the gaunt face of the guy.

“
You bitch!” he yelled to the snooty girl. He walked briskly away down Ashbury Street with the girl chasing after him.

“
Man, you blow my mind! That’s his best friend’s name. What a trip. Showed that skag, huh?” Mary laughed, enjoying her sister’s uncanny abilities.

It wasn
’t showing off that brought a sense of satisfaction for June, but more of a need to be accepted for her abilities. Since she was a small child, her parents and the nuns had punished her for being unusual. Enduring this only made her cling to her visionary gifts.

Like a freight train coming through a tunnel, the deafening boom of a Harley startled the girls. The biker roared to a halt in front of the sisters. His thick brown hair laid straight back from riding against the wind. The jet-black sunglasses hiding his eyes reminded June of a fly. His Levi jeans, extended to the front pegs on the bike, tapered off at his sturdy, black steeled-toe
boots, giving the illusion he was taller than he actually was. And with his black-leather jacket, he was the perfect image of the bad boy rebel, especially for a former Catholic school kid.

Eddie Gallagher sat on the rumbling black motorcycle, grinning widely as he stared down at the sisters.

“He’s hoping to impress us,” Mary giggled.

He does impress her,
June thought, eyeing the two. She was reluctant to warm up to Eddie, whom she never really forgave for crumbling her tarot cards. More importantly, she blamed him for Mary’s drug addiction. At first her sister took the bennies to help her lose weight, only she never stopped taking them. Although June repeatedly praised her sister’s beauty, Mary’s self-image was stuck in their father’s taunts about her being “a sturdy boy.”

Switching off the engine, he pushed up his glasses over his hair, revealing his Mediterranean blue eyes fringed with black lashes. He curved his full lips into a lopsided half smile at Mary.

“Hey babe, how’s it goin’?” he said.

Grimacing, June thou
ght how, even at eighteen-years-old, he hadn’t changed much from that boastful boy at Holy Savior School. June had heard he got kicked out of the boys’ Catholic high school in his junior year and never did get a diploma.

Mary
’s tawny waist-length hair blew across her face as she looked up at him. Tipping her head to the side, she answered with a half-smile, “Copasetic. Dig your new pan head,” she said referring to the type of Harley-Davidson Eddie was riding.

Now who
’s trying to impress? June thought.

“
Yeah, ain’t it boss, man?” Eddie swung his long legs over the seat to squat on his haunches in front of Mary.

Flustered at his closeness, she immediately ducked her head and dug into her handbag, rummaging through it. June watched Eddie lick his lips nervously while resting his eyes on the swell of Mary
’s full breasts rising and falling beneath her tight brown-leather jacket. He readjusted his position, causing him to tip forward, almost as though he were collapsing into her. His arousal from being so near to Mary was apparent.

Her hand shook as she pulled out a bunch of greenbacks. Like a bank teller she sm
oothed out the rumpled bills and carefully turned them all in the same direction as she tallied up a balance. Satisfied with the count, she glanced up and down the street before handing him the bills, keeping her eyes diverted from his face.

Accepting the wad of cash, his fingers lingered on her hand longer than necessary.
“Good deal, Lucille,” he said in his rich baritone voice.

Their private dance of desire left June feeling like an interloper. Eddie was Mary
’s connection for drugs to sell and indulge in, but the younger sister knew it was more than just that. Mary needed his attention, as meager as it was. June’s distaste for Eddie spilled beyond the boundaries of her mind. The young man’s eyes twitched as he sensed her searing blue eyes boring into him. He pulled his sunglasses back down and stood up. Casually, he leaned against the seat of his bike, lit up a cigarette and blew a couple of smoke rings.

“
Saw Maggie singing at some joint with that guy Jerry Garcia,” he said. “Man, can she fuckin’ groove.” His last comment was drawled out as long as his wide grin.

The very mention of Maggie
’s name produced an ill effect. June watched Mary scrunch down, scowling. She knew her sister felt inadequate to Maggie’s female prowess. But it wasn’t jealous insecurity that grinded at June’s gut. For her, it was pure dislike. Maggie never apologized for her grievous betrayal of June’s secret.

Eyeing a beat cop walking their way, Eddie ground out his cigarette and swung a leg over the Harley. He nodded his head toward
the cop. “Later,” he said to the girls before he roared away.

It took only a few strides for the big cop to come up to June and Mary. He tipped his cap
with his nightstick. “Shouldn’t you girls be home?” he asked.

“
Waiting for the bus to get home, Officer,” Mary answered politely.

He smiled and continued his beat, his nightstick swinging alongside his leg.

When the cop was a block away, Mary ordered June to “Go get me some Zig Zags.” She waved several bills in front of her face and nodded toward East Meets West, a head shop on the opposite side of the street. The sisters enjoyed shopping on Haight Street in these new kinds of boutiques, or hippy shops, as the adults called them. In them, they’d find hippy clothes and beaded earrings, candles and incense, drug paraphernalia, psychedelic merchandise and occult objects, and books.

Although June really didn
’t want to support her sister getting high by buying the Zig Zag rolling papers, she understood Mary was hurting from Eddie’s comments about Maggie.

“
More,” June said, gesturing for more money.

Her big sister
’s mouth dropped in mock surprise.

June wasn
’t put off. “For my stuff, too. You promised.”

“
How come I gotta buy your stuff?” Mary said cheekily, knowing full well she had agreed beforehand to buy incense and candles for her sister’s hidden altar.

A dark sullen look crossed June
’s face.

“
You owe me,” she answered strongly. “Because of me, you didn’t get your butt kicked by Daddy for cutting school––again.” June knew Mary understood how influential she had been in helping her stay clear of their father’s wrath. 

Ever since Mary had been warned about expulsion from Girls Convent if she was truant again, her father had become ruthless, trying to catch her doing anything out of order. When he did, the punishment was usually a solid beating with the belt, which Mary endured. She hated going to the Catholic high school
and planned to join Jeannie at Mission High, a public school, by flunking out of her present situation. June pleaded with her to finish her junior year, which was only months away. “Mommy’s getting sick again from all the fighting,” she had told Mary.

The need to protect her sister and mother drew forth June
’s strong telepathic ability, which had become increasingly effortless over the years. She employed it often and chose to ignore Sister Noel’s sage advice; never use it for selfish purposes. With great concentration, she would scramble her father’s thoughts by bombarding him with images of unfinished work projects so that he would forget about Mary. As stubborn a man as Jimmy was, June was equally so. Her telepathic thoughts won out.

Mary didn
’t offer more money, so June didn’t budge from the sidewalk. The sisters continued to stare across to the head shop’s large window display of pot pipes, candles, incense and hippy adornments. Also, there was occult paraphernalia like tarot cards and talismans; religious statues of Our Lady sat next to idols of the Santeria, and Voodoo religions.

“The same stuff we use at Mass. Incense, candles, statues, flowers. All that stuff. Occult and Catholics, it’s like a big old magical mystery trip, man,” Mary laughed ironically.

“
The mystical part of Catholicism is what I’ve always liked about it. It’s the other stuff that got to me,” June said seriously.

“
Yeah, like don’t question anything,” Mary added.

A self-proclaimed atheist, Mary would still pray a
“Hail Mary” when feeling needy. June often reminded her, praying to Our Lady and having faith She would help, was the mystical part of Catholicism. Still, she understood why Mary didn’t want to be a Catholic any longer. Like her sister, June was also irked by the memories of Sister St. Pius, as well as Jimmy’s warnings whenever she committed some infraction. He would say things like, “God doesn’t like bad girls,” or “Good Catholic girls don’t behave like that.” Yet she yearned for spiritual practice to support her psychic gifts in a positive way. As little as she knew about it, witchcraft was fulfilling that need.

“
Yeah, I guess it’s true. Catholic girls can make good witches,” June admitted.

“
Of course you’d think that way, you heathen pagan,” Mary snickered teasingly, knowing it annoyed June to be called the name their father called her. Before June could retaliate, Mary jumped up and threw her bag over her shoulder just as the bus rolled to a stop in front of them. June hurried on after her.

The girls sat down in the warm bus, happy to be out of the cold. Twilight was beginning to fall. Unsure if they
’d make their curfew, the girls agreed to say they had been studying at the library, which was the only excuse their father was likely to accept to pardon their tardiness. With their fib settled upon, they sat quietly watching the lights from the cars and street lamps moving past them.

“
Hey! Let’s go up to Twin Peaks and trip out on the city lights,” Mary said dreamily.

June slumped into the seat, depleted of energy and sick of Mary
’s stupid jabbering. She yanked off the ribbon holding her wild curls in place. Tears sprang to her eyes. Fear for Mary’s growing substance abuse interfered more and more with her psychic ability to keep her sister out of trouble. She looked down at the bright orange ribbon and twirled it around her fingers. She felt utterly alone.