The Seventh Direction

PART THREE: Stalking Violet. Episode 92

                                               ["D/A" narrates —A.A.]

"Dorothy's not dead," she countered, patted my knee. "And . . . no, death doesn't bother me. I'm a nurse."

"Well . . ." Master J' said, emphatically. There was a long silence. Not only his tone said things were going to get serious, Lady El's face did too . . . and the atmosphere in the room changed. (Game over.) The brightness round the Masters, however? That hadn't changed. If anything, they had grown even brighter! Seeing as who they both were now (El and Jay no longer, but Lady El and Master J'), both Aces and I should have been gob-smacked! I put my shades back on.

Aces, stone-faced, looked at the three of us, one by one. She had seen or maybe sensed the change, as well?

Master J' piped-up again, he was seriously looking at me. "Well, it seems that you have created a 'probability 'again." ('Uh-oh') "Truth be told, the two of you created it. Both of you guys," he said, then telepathized: And you are going to help me, right? I side-glanced Aces. ('Aces can't hear us, can she?') No, she can't and she won't, not unless Lady El possesses her again. But that shouldn't happen now, playtime's over, or in the least it's downgraded. You ARE going to help me, yes? ('So, should I start with the obvious question?') He nodded, making sure Aces saw him do it.

"Did we change the timeline, too?" I asked. It was a legitimate question.

"What probability? What timeline?" Aces demanded—firm, barging and bold! "What kind of probability are you guys talking about? Timeline?"

"Our probability. Master J's and mine," Lady El said. "Ever had a psychic-reading?"

My word! What would possess El to ask Aces that? Aces raised one finger.

"Was it any good?" Lady El said. "There are lots of psychic-wannabees out there, you know." El was keeping it light, so far.

"Yeah, it was good one. Madame . . . I can't remember her last name, but it was a long Russian name ending in 'ova.' Madame Ova— well, she said she SAW that I would be working specifically with two different patients, in two different locations, nine-hundred and fourteen miles apart, and that the two knew each other. I was really totally skeptical at first. But you know the rest. Obviously, she was right. And there's other stuff she was right about, but one thing she got wrong. Actually, she was right . . . but I only dreamed it, so she was wrong—" 

Aces seemed to be finished speaking, or she had paused. Master J' took two steps back, unhooked Aces' black coat from the coat hook, turned it over, scraped off with his fingernail some crusty red stuff, put it into his palm, held his palm up for all to see, and it vanished. Not his palm, the crusty red stuff. We all kept watching. He said nothing. Raising the coat up, in front of his face, his light shone through a smallish hole (the burnt hole, remember?), then he put a finger up near his nose, stuck his finger through the hole and wiggled it round. His light streaked the room, like a disco ball. Glittered.

"Know what this is?" Jay said, his finger still wiggling. Aces nodded.

"You never told Dorothy, though, did you?"

"I was afraid to," Aces said.

"And it wasn't exactly a dream," Lady El said. "No, probabilities can be changed. And that's exactly what happened. And that's the reason Madame Bartsasimpsonova was wrong."

Aces burst a button. "That was her name! I saw it on her shingle. I just knew there was something funny about that name. But I missed it then."