to say. "I was a cop," she said after a moment. "And now I'm not."
This took the man back a moment, and he looked at Sam differently, almost as if he did a double take.
"I have a gift for you," he said, his face expressionless, and he slid a small black stone across the counter.
This was a man that should play poker, Sam thought. "I don't have to get out of town if I accept this, do I?" she asked. The man just shook his head. Reaching out slowly, she grabbed the stone. Smooth and rounded yet with intricate texture, the black stone was cool to the touch and felt good in Sam's palm.
"It is an offering to the land," the man said. "Throw it into the lake along with your greatest intention."
"And then what?" Shells asked.
"I don't understand," the man said.
"After she throws the rock into the lake, then what happens?"
"It is an offering," the man said as if that answered the question, but the look on Shells' face made it clear that she didn't understand. "Hopefully, she will feel blessed afterward. The stone is a river stone from the valley beneath Lake Lure, which was once a flowing river. Offering this stone back to the valley is a way of honoring what was the land's natural form."
"Lake Lure is man made?" Sam asked, and Shells gave her a look that said, "Duh! The Internet, dude, use it!" The man just nodded his head. "Thank you. That's kind of you. Are you having some kind of trouble with the police?"
A tinkling bell rang as another customer entered the store. The man retreated into a room in the back.
"Aw, man. We should've asked him about the psychic," Shells said.
"Are you looking for a psychic?" the person next to Shells asked, and Sam turned to look at her. She was a slender woman in her middle years with a plain face and a pleasant smile. "I'm a little bit psychic myself, you know. Why I bet I was drawn down here today just to help you."
Shells did not look impressed and Sam chose not to say anything yet.
"I sense that you are looking for a professional psychic . . . the best even," the woman said, holding one hand to her forehead. "Am I right?"
"You're good," Shells said.
"Do you know of someone?"
"Yes, ma'am. You want to see the Woods Woman Psychic, that's who you need to see."
"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Shells said. "Do you have a Woods Woman to English dictionary?" she asked no one in particular.
The woman ignored Shells. "She's the best there is; even has her own radio show and everything. Here, I have her number. I'll write it down for you."
"Is it this number?" Shells asked, holding out her smartphone.
"Why, yes," the woman said, looking a bit crestfallen. "How did you do that?"
"I got the Interweb," Shells said, and then she moonwalked to the carving of an eagle. "Aw, man. I have to have that," Sam heard her say.
"Thank you," Sam said.
"You're welcome dear," the woman said with a warm smile. "I hope whatever brought you here is for your own good."
"You can't tell?" Sam asked.
"I'm only a little psychic. Bye now."
"Wait. That's it? Didn't you come in here for something?"
"I did, dear," she said while walking out the door. "I came to see you. Now I'm going home."
It was as strange a thing as anyone had ever said to her, with the noted exception of what the man behind the counter had said. He had yet to reappear.
"C'mon," Shells said. "Let's go."
Sam followed her back outside and they wandered back toward the car.
"I've got this woods woman's phone number," Shells said. "You want me to call her?"
"Uh. Sure."
"Yeah. Is this the woods woman psychic lady? Yeah, my friend is a wreck, a real mess, and she needs to see a professional psychic. We were told you were the person to see. When can we come see you? Now? Sweet!" Shells gave Sam the thumbs up, though Sam had another bad feeling in her gut. What was with her gut these days anyway? She had better not be pregnant, she told herself. But then she quickly did the math and realized there was no way. She shrugged it off.
"Oh yeah,
This took the man back a moment, and he looked at Sam differently, almost as if he did a double take.
"I have a gift for you," he said, his face expressionless, and he slid a small black stone across the counter.
This was a man that should play poker, Sam thought. "I don't have to get out of town if I accept this, do I?" she asked. The man just shook his head. Reaching out slowly, she grabbed the stone. Smooth and rounded yet with intricate texture, the black stone was cool to the touch and felt good in Sam's palm.
"It is an offering to the land," the man said. "Throw it into the lake along with your greatest intention."
"And then what?" Shells asked.
"I don't understand," the man said.
"After she throws the rock into the lake, then what happens?"
"It is an offering," the man said as if that answered the question, but the look on Shells' face made it clear that she didn't understand. "Hopefully, she will feel blessed afterward. The stone is a river stone from the valley beneath Lake Lure, which was once a flowing river. Offering this stone back to the valley is a way of honoring what was the land's natural form."
"Lake Lure is man made?" Sam asked, and Shells gave her a look that said, "Duh! The Internet, dude, use it!" The man just nodded his head. "Thank you. That's kind of you. Are you having some kind of trouble with the police?"
A tinkling bell rang as another customer entered the store. The man retreated into a room in the back.
"Aw, man. We should've asked him about the psychic," Shells said.
"Are you looking for a psychic?" the person next to Shells asked, and Sam turned to look at her. She was a slender woman in her middle years with a plain face and a pleasant smile. "I'm a little bit psychic myself, you know. Why I bet I was drawn down here today just to help you."
Shells did not look impressed and Sam chose not to say anything yet.
"I sense that you are looking for a professional psychic . . . the best even," the woman said, holding one hand to her forehead. "Am I right?"
"You're good," Shells said.
"Do you know of someone?"
"Yes, ma'am. You want to see the Woods Woman Psychic, that's who you need to see."
"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Shells said. "Do you have a Woods Woman to English dictionary?" she asked no one in particular.
The woman ignored Shells. "She's the best there is; even has her own radio show and everything. Here, I have her number. I'll write it down for you."
"Is it this number?" Shells asked, holding out her smartphone.
"Why, yes," the woman said, looking a bit crestfallen. "How did you do that?"
"I got the Interweb," Shells said, and then she moonwalked to the carving of an eagle. "Aw, man. I have to have that," Sam heard her say.
"Thank you," Sam said.
"You're welcome dear," the woman said with a warm smile. "I hope whatever brought you here is for your own good."
"You can't tell?" Sam asked.
"I'm only a little psychic. Bye now."
"Wait. That's it? Didn't you come in here for something?"
"I did, dear," she said while walking out the door. "I came to see you. Now I'm going home."
It was as strange a thing as anyone had ever said to her, with the noted exception of what the man behind the counter had said. He had yet to reappear.
"C'mon," Shells said. "Let's go."
Sam followed her back outside and they wandered back toward the car.
"I've got this woods woman's phone number," Shells said. "You want me to call her?"
"Uh. Sure."
"Yeah. Is this the woods woman psychic lady? Yeah, my friend is a wreck, a real mess, and she needs to see a professional psychic. We were told you were the person to see. When can we come see you? Now? Sweet!" Shells gave Sam the thumbs up, though Sam had another bad feeling in her gut. What was with her gut these days anyway? She had better not be pregnant, she told herself. But then she quickly did the math and realized there was no way. She shrugged it off.
"Oh yeah,
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