Kinshasai Hopewell walked the perimeter of the Elder’s circle waving her hands wildly as she spoke. Her thick, gray-flecked dreadlocks looked like a spiny cactus, and today matched her temperament.
“This is unacceptable,” she shouted for the twentieth or thirtieth time, Kai had lost count. Her gray robes billowed as if a strong wind blew through the room, but it was she that was the tempest. Between that particular admonishment and the, “I told you this would happens,” he had managed to tune her out for the most part.
“It is certainly unprecedented, my sister. Please take a seat so that we can discuss a course of action,” he said in his most soothing voice.
She stopped in front of the founding brother, her eyebrows high on her forehead, and hands on her slim hips, and gave him one of her “Don’t try to handle me,” looks.
“Oh, now you want to talk about this shit. I tried to tell you the government’s Psychic Division would not sit idly by while we restored the collective vision of this spiritual desert.’
‘As long as we stuck to the storefront churches shaking tambourines, and the obscene monuments to Christianity, talking in tongues and gettin’ Happy, they left us alone. Now that we doin’ something real, they gonna snatch and Rendition one of ours? Hell no!”
She was back to walking the circle again, and put up her “Talk to the Hand” hand every time someone tried to interject.
“I say we go down to their idol of mythology, Saint Patrick’s — or better yet, right up here to their Saint John’s of the mother freakin’ Divine, and snatch one of theirs.”
Kai sat in his full lotus position watching her face with his one remaining eye. Kinshasai was voluble at times, but she had a point.
“We do apologize for our shortsightedness, sister. Please enlighten us. What exactly is this Psychic Division again?”
Kinshasai swirled down into a half lotus, rolling her eyes, and began tucking her foot over her thigh as she spoke. “See, that’s your problem, you’re so focused on operations that strategic planning suffers. Rai listened to me, he knew about these men who stare at goats Mofos. That’s probably why they snatched his ass.’
‘How did they get past the wards, anyway,” she asked turning her head and looking at brother Elias accusingly.
Kai took a deep breath before he answered her. He was in fact, painfully aware of the Department of Paranormal Activities. The birthchild of DARPA was the very agency that had cost him his eye.
“Rai brought this Parker Leboux, if that is his real name —”
“You know it ain’t, just as well as I do.”
“If I may continue,” he asked, summoning every ounce of calmness he could muster.
“Rai brought him past the wards, and that is when his assailant was able to subdue him, though we are currently at a loss as to how he was able to accomplish such a feat. An Adept within the Village’s magic should have been protected from any attack, magic or mundane.”
Sister Olafamé had kept her thoughts to herself during Kinshasai’s diatribe, but Kai knew she had a lot on her mind, and even more to say. When she raised her hand smoothly, reflecting her inner calm, he nodded to her.
“We are not in the business of retribution, and please refrain from maligning the faiths, it causes a palpable disturbance in the Village’s Ki.’
‘Brother Rai was well aware of the risks involved with our purpose. He is a perfectly capable Adept and will take care of himself. I see no reason to intervene on his behalf.”
As he listened to Olafamé, Kai never took his eye off Kinshasai. Her face went through several changes as she listened to her learned sister. Kai wondered if the dark-skinned Puerto-Rican woman still held resentment toward her Caucasian sister.
Olafamé was blond and blue eyed. Despite her Afghani heritage, she symbolized centuries of oppression for those who had not grown past that history, and for those who had not taken the time to get to know her. Many simply tolerated her whiteness because of the power of her gift, but Olafamé was the most committed of them all.
M. Zane McClellan
Copyright © 2017
All rights reserved