Paralysis of the Voyeur

Originally written Saturday, December 24, 2005

I acted as if I were dismissing her question as rhetorical—as it would have been if posed to anyone else—by giving a triumphant look to Ian as I overheard him saying to Liz, “Hey, we didn’t get to know when we die!”

I turned back to Medusa, who was still staring at my eyes, and acted casual as I asked, “So what do I need to do to keep this from happening?”

“You have an item of great value in your possession. Or… protection.” I felt nearly paralyzed, yet voyeuristically so, as she continued to relate the details of my current predicament in terms that indicated she was only telling me part of what she knew.

“Great value. You mean, like, money value?” I tested.

She chuckled. “Well, maybe not at one point, but everyone in America is a capitalist. Young. Old. Living. Dead.”

Ian broke in from the couch. “Hey! Not everyone.” He and I had been co-chairs of the Young Socialists in college. That’s how we met. Now he’s an attorney for the ACLU.

My first response was, of course, to be annoyed by his interjections, and I expressed that annoyance, but there was another level, that of gratitude. It was a convenient excuse for moving him and Liz outside without making them feel like I didn’t trust them. “You know, on second thought, I think you guys should wait in the store.”

“Why me? I didn’t say anything!” Liz protested, but Ian was already on his way into the shop, and we overheard him challenging the clerk to explain to him exactly how healing crystals are supposed to work. Realizing that lawyers should never be left unattended in New Age shops, Liz dashed after him to prevent him from ruining the young woman’s afternoon.

As soon as they were out of sight, Medusa’s face crinkled up around the corners of her mouth as she grinned widely. “Thanks. This’ll make things a whole lot easier.” She had already started picking up the cards spread out on the table and returning them to their box. She leaned back in her seat, sans the supposed tools of the trade.

“No problem. So I’ve been thrown a bit off guard here. What—how much do you know about me?”

“Besides what I already said? I sense an old soul in you. Not ancient, but old. And you’ve been surrounded by some really random energy lately. I can’t put my finger on all of it, it’s all over the place. Kind of hemming in your own. Don’t get yourself too wrapped up in that thing you’re protecting, but don’t let anyone else get wrapped up in it, either, or else what it could do to you, it could also do to them.”

“Patrick….” Is that what she was talking about? “One of my students has been worried about me getting sucked into it, so he’s been wanting to take over. I didn’t want him to because he can’t protect himself yet from whoever else is looking for it, but it sounds like it itself could be a danger to him? He’s still mortal. Does that make a difference?”

The events of this day to be continued...