Written in the Sky* Rise of the Wadjet Witch (6 page)

Read Written in the Sky* Rise of the Wadjet Witch Online

Authors: Juliet C. Obodo

“
The outer planets are very important when it comes to looking at a person’s chart.” He began to draw on a portable chalkboard. He drew several circles and divided them into thirds. “Water signs indicate psychic ability.” He created a list of the chart’s angles and the planets occupying the water signs. “Cancer in the fourth house, Scorpio in the eighth house, and Pisces in the twelfth; these signs and houses all deal with deep psychological levels of a person’s personality.
“
If the water signs don’t dominate the chart, then the planets will be in the water houses. The eighth house rules all occult matters and the twelfth rules the subliminal. But having prominent water signs or houses is not enough to assume extraordinary psychic or intuitive talents exist. What matters is the natural planetary rulers of the water signs; if they encompass most of the chart, they show more psychic awareness and intuitive ability than just the water signs.”
He created another list titled “The Natural Planetary Rulers.” “Neptune unveils what is hidden; it rules Pisces and the twelfth house. It’s connected to seeing beyond the material world. It rules the imagination and stimulates a tendency toward fantasy and daydreaming.”
He turned to face the camera. His blue eyes were piercing, and Memphis shivered. For some strange reason it felt as if he were looking directly at her.
“
If you have Neptune in your twelfth house you may show the ability to clearly visualize events with great detail. Now, if it’s linked to the Moon in your chart, it shows a special capacity to transcend normal limitations. Because the Moon is a personal planet and rules the senses when it is attached to Neptune, the visions receive emotional magnification, giving them the strength to leave the material world and enter another plane. The visions are elevated and become the material world’s future. What is at first a part of the imagination becomes reality with this mental projection power. Some people experience this only during their childhood, but for others it remains dormant until activated. Some people believe that psychic abilities can be activated or enhanced through the study and practice of meditation and hypnosis.”
Hypnosis? So it wasn’t just for weight loss and smoking. Memphis bit her bottom lip; this was quite a coincidence.
“
The next planet is Pluto. It probes and rules Scorpio and the eighth house. It goes below the surface and gives you the understanding of powerful thoughts. Thoughts are actually tangible. If practiced often, one can construct a thought and make it come into being, overcoming the laws of the material world and entering the surface, changing the working machine.”
Memphis had been watching for a few minutes when it hit her: he was completely spot on when it came to Jonathan’s reading! She tried to recall what he said about the actor with the same birth date. He had a great deal of secrets—another side to his personality. Well, that was an understatement. Jonathan was leading a completely different life from the one he created so carefully on his public calendar. She took more of an interest in the show. She listened intently to the host, Virgil. She repeated his name softly as she grabbed a pad and pen from the end table beside the sofa.
On Gemma’s Hello Kitty stationery pad, she began to take notes on how to complete your own birth chart. This time she would do one on herself. With her birthday falling on December 12, she was a “fire sign.” Memphis wrote the letters smaller than usual. She wished she had invisible ink. It was almost embarrassing writing down terms such as love sign compatibility and zodiac color, but after the incident with Jonathan, she needed all the information she could get to avoid pushing another lover out of the closet. As the show ended, Virgil supplied the audience with his e-mail address for inquires and personal chart readings. She probably couldn’t afford him; she would have to go this alone. She just needed her birth time to begin.
She turned off the television as the credits rolled. She went to her room and took out a box from under her bed. It was made of cherry wood and had the letter “M” inscribed in ivory. It was the only thing besides her looks that she could confidently say her parents gave her. She opened the gold latch and took out a necklace, a stack of papers, and a rock. She sighed; her legacy was a rock.
She started sifting through the papers for her birth certificate when she realized that the one she had wouldn’t be accurate. They never found her parents, so they never knew her actual place of birth. The certificate that they found with her just had her name and birth date. What a strange thing to leave with a six-year-old. But then again, who would abandon a child in the first place? Her race nor her nationality was listed on her birth certificate. People often assumed she was Hispanic because of her long, curly hair and olive skin, but she didn’t speak Spanish. She had a bit of an accent until her foster mother steadily slapped her round vowels off her tongue.
Only in college, when a professor offered to complete DNA testing for her, did she discover that she was actually black. She never based her identity on her race, but her boyfriend at the time did; he enjoyed telling racist jokes whenever he drank too much. They broke up shortly after she received her test results.
She never really looked through the stack of papers that lay in the box. The last time she opened this box was right after her eighteenth birthday. Strangely, her foster parents were instructed to give her the box once she became an adult; it was her first and last Christmas gift from them. She hoped to find pictures or clues as to who her parents were and who she was, but instead she was greeted with these papers, a necklace with a creepy eye as a charm, and a rock. She’d gathered up her disappointment and the objects and returned them to their container. From that moment on, she was determined to create her own identity. She wouldn’t sit around and wait for someone to give her a piece of paper telling her who she was.
Looking through the stack of papers, she noticed that a few of them had drawings and symbols that she hadn’t noticed before; her memory was clouded by teen angst. They were actually very good. The style resembled ancient drawings found in Egyptian pyramids. She wondered if they were hieroglyphics. She placed them to the side; she would review them later. She was getting tired again and wanted to find her birth certificate to see if it had information to help her create her birth chart. Just as she thought of the word “chart,” a folded sheet of paper fell out of the pile. It wasn’t actually paper; it was more like papyrus. The grainy texture felt scratchy against her fingertips as she opened it. She glanced at the clock; it was a quarter to midnight. Yup, it was officially the strangest day of her life.
The folded sheet of paper was a natal chart. On the corner was her name written in calligraphy; unfortunately, her surname was smudged. This chart seemed a bit more intricate and colorful than Virgil’s normal nodes and cusps. There were animal caricatures and even hieroglyphics. She would need professional assistance to decode this, but she may learn something about her roots from this sheet. Who created a natal chart for a newborn? What a strange gift; maybe her parents didn’t have a baby shower registry.
She wanted to kick herself for waiting so long to look in the box again. Maybe she hadn’t been ready to find out the truth. Well, now she was. She went to her desk and turned on her laptop. She tried to find out more information about her chart, but none of the charts on the websites resembled the intricate details on hers. She decided to e-mail Virgil and request his services. He probably would never get back to her, but at least she would try.
She sent the e-mail, then yawned and turned off her computer. She looked at the time; it was already well into the next day. She got under her sheets. Hopefully today everything would return to normal. No more random and unusual events, she thought as she closed her eyes.
Chapter 6

 

Memphis woke up before her alarm went off. She felt great. She just needed a day of napping. She grabbed her running shoes; she would attempt another go at the park. She stepped into the sunshine. The Gods smiled at her newly regained strength. She ran three laps around the park and decided to run back to her apartment.
Just a few more blocks and then I’ll come back around,
she thought as she passed the entrance to her apartment building. She lived by Central Park but never ran or walked over there. Hitting two parks in one day would definitely be a good beginning to this new health kick of hers. She ran down 85
th
Street, then onto Museum Mile. She cut through a parade of dog walkers and ran into the park. She felt free and weightless—as light as a feather.
“
Light as a feather, light as a feather, light as a feather,” she chanted to herself between deep, even breaths.
She looked up at the trees, not paying attention to the other runners on the path and not caring about the glare from the sun. The trees were brightly colored, paying homage to autumn. Though it was the end of October, the leaves hadn’t begun to fall yet. The wind blew and she noticed one leaf beginning to fall, separating from the others. It was its time.
She stopped and walked toward the falling foliage. She felt bad that it had to go on this journey alone. She could empathize. She’d had to do it all her life. She walked faster; she wanted to be there when it reached the ground, to keep it company before she would have to leave. The descent was slow and graceful. Memphis wished she could go through life with such grace. She continued to watch the leaf’s dance. She wished she could join it, to be as light as the leaf.
“
Light as a leaf, light as a leaf. Let us meet,” she chanted.
She kept her gaze on the golden flake. She was so entranced that she didn’t notice she was no longer walking, but floating toward the leaf. She met it midair and kept it at eye level, and together they fell.
She was floating. The leaf wouldn’t be alone; they would do this together.
“
Mommy!” She heard a child’s voice. “Look at the lady!” the child called out.
Memphis broke her trance to look behind her—or rather, below her—to see a little girl pointing in the air. She was pointing at her—she was in the air! Her stomach flipped and she felt as if she weighed a ton.
“
Heavy,” she whispered.
And with that, she fell to the ground.
“
Oof!
” She let out a gust of air. She was concentrating on the pain in her derriere when she suddenly noticed the little girl in front of her.
“
Are you an angel?” she asked. Her nose was wrinkled and she wore a slight frown as if she hoped the answer was no. Angels couldn’t simply wear old sweats and sit in the dirt.
“
Uh, no, I’m actually a magician,” she quickly covered. She sat up and tried to dust herself off. “I was just working on some magic tricks. Ha, ha. You’re the first person to see my flying trick. What did you think?”
“
Oh, it was a trick!” The little girl looked relieved. Her image of angels remained unmarred by a sweaty runner. “Yes, it was great. It looked like you were really flying.”
“
Thank you, my dear! Well, I believe that I am done for the day. I shall be off now!” Memphis tried not to cringe at the fact that she was talking like a coked up Mary Poppins. Children always made her nervous, even when she was one herself.
She quickly walked away before the little girl could ask her to explain her “trick.” She headed south toward her apartment, but stopped and turned to look behind her. The little girl was with a woman; she pointed in the air and then in her direction. Memphis turned away and ran home.
By the time she got to her room, she was sweaty and her heart was racing. She was actually flying. Well, technically she was floating, but still. She kicked off her sneakers and removed her clothes, and then she noticed that her computer was still on. She thought she had turned it off the night before. It was old and temperamental; it didn’t appreciate being left running for long periods, so she always turned it off when she wasn’t using it.
The window contained her inbox. She had a new e-mail labeled, “Personalized Horoscope for Memphis Holland.” That was strange. She didn’t remember filling out a form last night while she was searching the astrology websites. It wasn’t from Virgil, the host of
The Universe Now.
The sender’s e-mail address was [email protected].
She was about to open it when her cell phone rang. She went to answer it. Jill needed to see her immediately and invited her to meet for lunch at their favorite place on Bowery in an hour. Memphis agreed and said good-bye. She rushed to shower, get dressed and catch the train. She needed to straighten her hair. In her haste, she forgot all about her mystery mail.

 

 

 

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