Giving one last look in the mirror at the rising welt on my forehead, I leave the mirror.
She’s waiting for me in her Reading Room. ”Come with me. I’ve been thinking some more about you.”
The Love Charm
”You’re kidding! A Love Charm?” I ask, as we walk along rows of glass jars of dried herbs, flowers, and colored pebbles, and jar after jar of every kind of feather.
”People come to me sometimes to hedge their bets.” She sends me a ‘take it or leave it’ look. “This will get her attention, if that’s what you want. A Love Charm, no doubt about it, it will get her thinking about you again. Then, it’s up to you. You can decide once she’s got the scent again.”
”So, you think she’s lost it?” A tinge of alarm in my voice.
The Gypsy’s fingers taps against the jars, as she searches row after row, filled with curious roots, and other earthy looking things. ”What of hers do you have on you? Anything?” She turns her attention back to me, as she lifts a container down.
”Let’s see.” I spread out my hands. ”She gave me these rings.”
”No, those are yours. We need something of hers. Strains of her hair, a piece of her clothing. Something that has her magnetism still on it.”
”Okay, I can’t imagine I have anything in my purse.” I open it and look through its bare contents.
The Gypsy’s voice breaks through my pawing search. ”What’s that on the handkerchief?”
”Where?” I unfold it and see a press of Bette’s lips against the linen.
The Gypsy and I both smile. ”Can I turn it off or down once you make it?”
”Yes and no. When it’s very close to her it will catch her attention and you can’t do anything about that once you put it near her. If you keep it with you, and it’s long distance, you concentrate on wanting her to return to you, and you amplify it that way.”
She snips the shape of Bette’s lips from the handkerchief. ”Tina, you can leave it at home and put it in away in a drawer and try to forget about it, if you want to. But one way or the other, the time to decide what your future is with hers is coming.”
”If we’re going to be together for our daughter, I should know, right? At least I should know.”
”Exactly, for your daughter.” The edges of her eyes wrinkle with amusement. ”Now, be still. I need a snip of your hair to go inside the charm.”
Inside the reddish impression of Bette’s lips she places strands of my hair, tiny magnets and iron filings, a mandrake root and a small, perfectly round black stone. Once final time she looks at me for my agreement. I nod and she sews the magical ingredients together into a pouch.
Holding the charm my hand, the Gypsy says words I have no meanings for, but as she mummers them the back of my neck tingles.