CHAPTER 40

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The next morning I wake with blood stains on my bed. This means the ocean's aquamarine blue can now hide Hazel from all who laugh at her; and everyone caught during its transition will walk around stained until it recedes. I pour some detergent into my hand and head for the bathroom. If anyone smells it, they'll think I'm washing my underwear. I hustle to get out before the usual Sunday cooks crowd the hallway with pots clanging. Then a crazy thought jumps into my head as I dry my skin. Maybe I won one number because I wasn't specific enough. Maybe the Universe translated my one dollar spell into me wanting one number. A quick visit to the website goads me along. I drag the blood-stained sheet off and replace it with my dingy one.

Another quick visit to my purse intensifies my desperation. I take six dollars out and set it next to the same black plastic bag; then head down to the matron's herb garden. From the sign of things, she's been there since my last visit. I can tell because those plants I massacred are trimmed down to encourage new growth. To hell with it! I pick the few leaves she left behind and head back upstairs just as her snowed-on hair peeps through the office window. She scowls at me then looks over my head at one of her beloved students. My feet move into second gear to avoid the brat. And by the time she enters the ground floor I'm almost on the middle. Then I do a tiptoe run to put two floors between us and slam my room door behind me for effect.

It doesn't take long for me to do the six dollar spell. But as soon as the last knot is tied I remember that the main ingredient is missing. Well, not really an ingredient; just a superstition at this point. What if the last spell had worked because I was on the roof? And what if this one is destined to fail for the same reason? I slump down on the small bed with a healthy sigh, a cloudy mirror the only thing interested in conversation; so I ask it: do you know when I'm going to die?

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