The Company of Darkness (17 page)

Being a psychic must pay better than being a receptionist.  Gobi lived in a sprawling apartment covering the entire second floor over a converted bank that was now a jewelry store.  The ceilings were high, at least ten feet, the marble tiles cracked in a few places, but largely intact.  Sure the place needed a new coat of paint, but Cady would’ve switched places with him in a heartbeat.     

The insides were closer to the furnishings you’d find in any twenty-something gamer struggling to make ends meet apartment, and Cady felt at home there in the eclectic mix.  A nubby brown couch sat next to a glass and chrome coffee table.  A large papasan chair jostled for space next to a brocade covered wing back and an ancient bean bag, scarred with duct tape. 

Cady had no idea what Gobi’s phone number was or how to reach him beyond showing up at the door to knock.  True to form, she heard a shouted, “Come in,” from inside when she raised her hand to the door.   “Hey, Cady,” he said with a lazy stretch, turning his head to greet her but not getting up from where he lay on the couch reading a comic book through old red and blue 3D glasses.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Don’t you already know?”

“Maybe, but it’s polite to ask,” Gobi grinned.  He wore a blue and green argyle sweater vest over a bright pink t-shirt, paired with lime green golf pants and purple patent leather Doc Martens.  His dirty blonde hair hung into his eyes, tiny braids tied with colorful rubber bands sticking out every which way.  The place smelled like the back room of a head shop and Cady wondered if he spent his entire life at least half baked, but she greeted him with a polite smile. 

“I came to ask for your help.”

“Well, duh,” he frowned, stumbling to his feet.  “That’s the only reason a chick like you ever comes up here.  You never call, you never write.”

“Oh, I don’t actually know your phone number, so…”

The frown disappeared, a lazy grin replacing it.  “It’s cool, I’m just busting your balls.  So, you’re looking for Ethan.  You and him had a bit of a row, eh?” he said with what was probably supposed to be a snobby British accent, but came out more like a chimney sweep. 

  “Yes, something like that.”  Her head tilted to one side as she debated whether or not to ask him exactly how he knew.

“It’s okay, you can ask, you know.”

“Do you read minds, or what?  I mean, how do you know why I’m here or that we got into a fight?”

Gobi shrugged, flopping back down on the couch again and motioning her to join him.  “It’s nothing as badass as reading minds.  I always thought that would be pretty fucking cool.  I dunno, stuff just comes to me, I don’t know how.  I get the occasional picture or image sometimes.  It’s not like I can see into your memories or what the fight was about, I just
knew
you’d been in a fight and that you’re looking for him.”

Cady slouched on the other end of the couch, fascinated by the topic.  What would it be like to have gifts like that?  “What about when you’re doing that thing with the pencil?  What do they call that, channeling?”

“Automatic writing.  And no, most of the time I’m not really aware of what I’m getting as it comes through.  My mind is sort of blank, I guess I’m kinda good at that,” he said with a loopy grin.

“So the last time I was here and you drew all of those stacking dolls, you didn’t see them in my head or a vision of them or anything?”

“Nah, most of the time when I’m drawing, I don’t get a good look at it until I’m done.  Then it starts to makes sense, which is good, ’cause sometimes my drawing is kind of shitty.”

Cady picked up the sketch book, only looking through it once he gave her the go ahead.  “I think you do okay,” she said, flipping through the pages.  There were a whole slew of images, everything from houses to keychains to a pretty good rendition of an old fashioned jukebox from the fifties.  “Have you seen Ethan’s drawings before?  He’s fantastic.”

“Yeah, he’s a real catch,” he said sourly, pulling the book from her hands.  “So, are we gonna talk turkey now?  My usual price is an even thou for a peek and it goes up from there, depending on what you’re looking for.”

“A thousand dollars?” she squeaked.  Somehow she’d forgotten about the money part.  “I ah, I don’t have that kind of money.”  Or
any
money beyond what was stuffed in the pocket of her jeans.     

Gobi leaned back on the couch, his fingers walking along the back toward her shoulder.  “I’m sure we can work things out,” he said with a leer and Cady launched off the couch.

“Ick, no thanks.”

“Wait, wait, wait…”  Gobi jumped up and ran around to block her path to the door, his hands up in front of him.  “I’m just joshing with ya.  Ethan’s an okay guy and I think you’re good for him.  I’ll help you for free.”

Cady remained tensed to spring past him for a few moments longer, trying to decide if she could take him at his word before relaxing.  “Thanks.  I appreciate it.  I really wasn’t sure who else I could come to for help, to be honest.”

“No sweat.  Of course, I also think you’d be good for me too,” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows at her comically, but this time she ignored the come on, starting to grasp that it was just his sense of humor.   “Shit, I completely forgot my duties as host.  Is there anything I can get you?  A little drink, a little toke, a little smoke?”

“No, thanks, I’m good,” she shook her head.  More than anything she wanted to get on with it before he changed his mind and got distracted by something else.  She sensed that happened a lot. 

“Well, I’m going to have a cosmic brownie to lubricate the gears before I get started.  You sure you don’t want?”  Gobi produced a plate of thick, fudgy brownies, frosted like cake.    

“Will it help?”

“Only one way to find out,” he grinned.

They did look good, but she was pretty sure the word
cosmic
meant she might end up on a farther trip than she’d planned for.  “What’s in it?”

“The usual, chocolate, eggs, flour, vitamin THC.”  He waggled his brows for effect.

“You’re talking about weed?”

“It helps open the third eye.”

“Ah, what the hell, why not?” she said, picking the smallest one on the plate.  It wasn’t the first time she’d tried pot, though in general, she wasn’t a regular user.  There were too many other things to spend her money on that didn’t lead to binge eating.  At least she didn’t have to smoke it, and it was pretty tasty.  It was probably a placebo effect since it wouldn’t kick in that fast, but by the time she got to the end of the brownie, she felt less tense about the whole thing, ready to go with the flow. 

Gobi, meanwhile, had crammed two brownies into his mouth in the same amount of time, washing it down with the dregs of a can of Red Bull.  “Let’s take a look,” he said after a chocolatey belch.   He plopped down on the papasan chair, bringing a pencil with him, balancing the sketch pad on his knees.  The tip of the pencil traveled lazily over the page in a loop, crossing back over itself in the other direction in an infinite pattern.  Over and over it traced over itself, following the lines, making it darker, moving faster.  Then the pencil shifted, scratching against the paper as he scribbled, hand traveling over the page in jerky movements.  Cady watched in silence, not wanting to get too close to him and mess with his mojo.        

Finally his hand stilled, and Gobi blinked, staring down at the pad.  “Let’s see what we got here,” he said, a pucker appearing on his brow as he squinted at the page.  “Sorry man, alls I got is this symbol, over and over again.”  Turning the page toward her, she could see a bunch of sketches of the tattoo lying over Ethan’s heart, in varying sizes and levels of detail. 

“It’s Ash…” she gasped, and Gobi clapped his hand across her mouth. 

“Whoa, we don’t use those kinds of names around here.  Let’s call him The Big A, cool?”  Cady nodded, her eyes wide, and he let go of her. 

“You didn’t get an image of Ethan at all?  Just the tattoo?”

“Nope, doesn’t look like it.  Sorry, I thought I had enough juice to find him on my own, but apparently we don’t run as deep as I thought.  Looks like I’m gonna need you on this one,” he said, holding his hand out, palm up. 

Cady nodded, placing her hand in his and Gobi closed his eyes, cracking his neck first one way and then the other before his mouth went slack and the pencil started to move again.  Cady closed her eyes and unconsciously matched her breathing to his, focusing on Ethan, though she wasn’t sure if it was better to make her mind a blank slate like Gobi’s.

Unlike the last time she’d done this, an image flickered in her mind as the pencil moved over the pad – Ethan scribbling furiously over the walls of a small, drab room.  Just as quickly the image faded away, only to reappear twice more, Ethan busily covering the adjacent walls with protective sigils.  Once her mind identified the symbols, she focused more on the man himself when he came into view, taking in the deep furrow in his forehead, the way the corner of his lips turned down in sorrow. 

“He looks so sad…” she murmured, and Gobi’s hand stilled on the page which was covered with the same protective symbols, the central figure being the back of Ethan’s torso, his hand outstretched to the wall in mid scribble. 

“You saw him?” he blinked, mouth hanging agape. 

“Yes, a few flashes, but I saw him making these sigils on all the walls, and the one time I saw his face, he looked like he was about ready to fall apart.  Isn’t that what you got too?”

“Hold on, sister… this is getting interesting.”  He leaned forward, capturing her hand in his again.  “That’s the first time this has ever happened.   You actually got more than I did.  You been holding out on me with your own bad self?”  Gobi made a wavering gesture to her head.

“Nooo, this has never happened to me either.  Maybe it was the cosmic brownie?” she giggled, tickled by the idea. 

“You guys are really copacetic.”

“Huh?”  He’d lost her. 

“You know, like made for each other, beyond compatible.”

“Do you mean like simpatico?”

Gobi snapped his fingers.  “Yeah, that’s it.  I mean I sensed it before, but this is off the charts.  You guys are like definitely on the same wavelength.  I should be letting you try to dig him up.”  He held the pencil and pad of paper out to her, but she didn’t take them.

“Well, odd curiosity aside, we’re still no closer to finding him.  I saw him in the room, but I have no idea where he is.  Do you know how to do that vision spell he does?  Could we be able to find him that way?”

“No can do.”  He shook his head.  “I try not to mess with that stuff.  You never know what might follow you back when you open yourself up like that.”

Disappointment sliced through her, cutting through the mellow haze the brownie provided.  “What about the astral projection thing?  You gotta put me under like last time so I can try to find him.  You said that was safe before,” she tried again, but he was already shaking his head. 

“Way too risky, I got no black salt.”

“Can we get some?”

“Sure, but it’ll take some time, and it’s not without its own cost.  I don’t mind helping you out for free, but I draw the line at paying for the privilege, you dig?”

“So we’re screwed then, is that what you’re saying?”

Gobi’s hands came up in a calming effort.  “Don’t be so quick to throw in the towel, Cady-bear, we can lick this thing.  I say we try again, only this time, we make you the focus, not me.”

“Wha…huh?”  Maybe it was the drugs, but she had a hard time following him.  “You mean I hold the pencil this time?  I don’t think that’s going to work, I can’t even draw stick figures.”

“No, but that might be entertaining later,” he grinned, his excitement growing as he warmed to the idea.  “We still hold hands, but I won’t focus on being the channel, I’ll just try and point you in the right direction, so to speak.  Without the pencil to focus the impressions you might end up with a more complete vision.”

“And you really think that’ll work?  I told you, I’ve never done this before.”

“If I’m right it won’t matter.  The part of the two of you that belongs together will do all the heavy lifting.”

Cady let out a long breath.  “Okay then, how do we get started?  And don’t say another brownie, one was my limit.”

Gobi’s face fell and she didn’t have to be a psychic to tell he was about to suggest that very thing.  “Now we settle for getting comfy then,” he said, pulling two cushions from the couch onto the floor and sitting cross legged on one.  Cady followed, duplicating his position and body language as much as possible and putting both her hands into his. 

“Atta girl,” he said, his voice dropping in tone, softer, more soothing.  “Now, this time, I want you to leave your mind as open as possible.  Don’t try to force finding him, but it is okay to think about him.  The way he smells, the way he sounds, the way he tastes.  But mostly I want you to be open for anything.  Are you feeling open?”

Trying to obey, Cady gave a slow nod, thinking about the first time he’d kissed her.  “Yes, I’m open.”

“Ooh, how open?”  A crazy grin stole over his features as he dropped her hand to grab her knee and she smacked it away, following up with another harder punch to the shoulder.