Stumbling Toward Serenity: Chapter Five
The bright sunshine streaming in blinds Natalie. She throws an arm over her eyes and wonders why the blackout curtains are failing. Then, peeking through her fingers at her surroundings, she realizes this isn’t her bedroom.
“Ugh.” Natalie makes a face from the rotten fruit taste in her mouth. “Oh, gross.” As she moves again, her laptop shifts. Ninja speed kicks in and she saves the laptop from falling to the floor. Unfortunately, the quick reflex causes the room to spin. Setting the laptop down a little harder than she wants, Natalie rushes to the bathroom.
The wine and junk food make a reappearance she doesn’t care for as her head pounds in unison with her heartbeat. Natalie wants to cry. She forces the feeling away and gets a look at her sloppy self in the mirror. Her hair is the only thing not a disaster since she had the foresight to put it up last night.
Why do I keep doing this to myself?
Reaching for the mouthwash, she rinses her mouth and hopes brushing her teeth won’t make her gag. Natalie feels woozy as she scrubs and moisturizes her face. There is a buzzing in her ears, and it confuses the hell out of her.
Buzz, buzz. Buzzzzzz.
Rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, Natalie goes in search of her cell phone. She finds it against the wine bottle on the floor of the living room. The number is unknown, but she answers it anyway.
“Hello.” There’s no reason to act happy for an unknown caller.
“Ah, good morning, ma’am. I’m here to take you to the marina. Are you ready, or do you need a little time yet?” The guy on the line is obviously a morning person. It gives Natalie a new headache.
“I’m sorry, what?” Natalie looks around her apartment, wondering what the hell she’d done while drinking the awful wine last night. She sees her suitcases standing askew by the door.
“The marina, ma’am. You’re due on the first ferry out. It leaves in twenty minutes, so you have a little time.” He is so polite it makes Natalie want to gag a little.
“Hang on.” Muting the call, she picks up her laptop and unlocks it. She finds a website that looks like it hasn’t gotten an update since the nineties, showing a confirmation for a stay at The Haven, whatever that is
“The fuck?” Opening her email, she finds a confirmation saying they’d send a car for her in the morning.
Unmuting her phone, Natalie goes for the impulsive choice. No reason to change now. It’s not like she has to go to work…
Despite not knowing anything about this haven place, she will head there. Sounds like a resort so perhaps she’ll get some sun, surf, and sexy time. When she comes back, she’ll appear to be a whole new person. They’ll beg for her to return to work with the Merrick account on a gold platter.
“Can you come up to my apartment and help me with my bags?” Natalie adds just enough ‘helpless female’ to her voice.
“Ah, yes ma’am. I’ll come right up. Let me park.” The driver sounds like a sweet old man.
Natalie lays down the suitcase by the door and flings it open, finding a bunch of random clothing and a pile of panties thrown into it.
“Drunk me should never pack.” Sighing, she goes to the bedroom and repacks the suitcase. The blurry photos on the website had shown an island with tiny modern bungalows tucked in along the tropical flora.
Natalie pulls out three bikinis, a one-piece suit, a handful of covers, workout clothes in case she goes tromping around the forest, and a bunch of sundresses. Sandals and flip-flops follow, along with a pair of sneakers and a pair of slides.
The doorbell rings out, and she hollers, “The door is open. I’ll be right there!”
In the bathroom, she slides her arm along the counter, her makeup and lotions dropping into the bag she holds. Natalie isn’t flying and doesn’t have to worry about security. Who knows what amenities this place will offer? For all she knows, the bungalows are for show and she could end up sleeping in some kind of mud hut she has to build herself.
What have I gotten myself into?
An hour later, she’s back on solid ground.
Natalie squints behind the darkest sunglasses she owns. The sunshine is cheery and hot as fuck. She sucks down some iced coffee and shakes the cup. Her headache still throbs a little. The ferry has dropped her off and told her that her luggage will get sent along with the other deliveries when everything is unloaded and sorted.
“Well, I have my wallet, so if I get robbed, at least they only got some clothes and shit.” Hoisting her carry-on bag a little higher, she stares at the signpost some more. She’s walked around it twice, but a third time can’t hurt. Not one sign lists “The Haven” as a destination.
“BangTown Bar and Grille.” Natalie smirks. “That sounds like my kind of place.” Natalie sucks in a deep breath of salty ocean air and heads toward what looks like the main thoroughfare. The simple goal is to relax the way Avery wants her to, then head back home and reclaim her job.
There have been a few other names that make Natalie giggle, all smutty-minded. Rumors she’s heard about Revelry Island have all been like a game of Telephone—someone’s cousin’s niece’s ex-boyfriend’s step-sister or some crazy shit like that. Basically, if you don’t have first-hand knowledge, you can’t trust anyone.
Natalie peeks inside windows of closed businesses. “I feel like a Peeping Tom.” Nothing is open. According to the signs, most of these places will be open around noon or one. Later if they cater to the nighttime crowd. If they hadn’t taken her luggage, she’d attempt getting a room at the hotel and finding some fun here.
“Well, so far, this sucks.” Natalie turns a corner and throws up her hand to prevent total blindness from the shiny rainbows. As she continues, she sees crystals hanging in the window and on shelves of the shop ahead. Shaking her cup again to resettle the ice, she drinks until the straw makes slurping sounds.
“The Enchanted Oracle,” she reads. Her hopes crash like waves hitting the rocks. “Of course it would be some bullshit psychic shop.”
“Oh, it’s not all bullshit.” The woman leans against the open door of the shop.
Natalie swallows the scream before it can escape. Her chest tightens. Breathe, just breathe, it’s easy… everyone else can do it without thinking.
When she finds air again, Natalie whirls on the woman, stomping her foot. “Do you get your rocks off sneaking up on lost people, or is that part of the show?”
She hears a low, throaty chuckle, followed by a soft sigh. “Probably both.” The woman smirks and pushes off the doorway. “Little lost lamb, I am your Bo Peep.” Turning with a flourish as she tosses the end of a scarf over her shoulder, and with a swish of a long beautiful robe, she looks over her shoulder. “Come with me.”
“Lady, I don’t know who the hell you are, and I wasn’t born yesterday, so, don’t think so.” Natalie looks around. “If you could be kind enough to point me toward The Haven, I’ll be on my way.”
“Yes, Natalie, if you want to get to The Haven, then you should come with me for a reading.” The woman turns and strolls into the shop without bothering to see if Natalie follows.
“How do you know my name?” Natalie calls. She steps into the shop and looks around for the woman.
“Your application to The Haven requires scanning your license. You uploaded a photo of yours. It was blurry and askew, but your name and face were visible.”
Closing her eyes, Natalie wants to use the breathing techniques and mantras, but usually it just frustrates her to tears. Giving in, she drags herself to the table and plops into the chair across from the strange woman.
“What is this going to cost me?” She rifles through her bag for her wallet.
“Nothing.” The lady sets a deck of cards in front of her. “Shuffle these and think about why you’re looking for The Haven, then cut the deck and slide them back to me.”
With a huff, Natalie drops her bag and takes the deck of cards. The cards feel sticky to her. Not in a way that something had spilled on them, though. As she shuffles, they don’t flow through the movements the way a normal deck of cards does.
“I don’t understand why I’m here with you doing this.” Natalie sets the deck down and spreads the cards out over the table. It looks like she’s making a mess of things, but they feel less stuck to her this way.
“Well, you applied for a space at The Haven. I control the door there. We only let certain people through. It’s…” the woman pauses and appears to stare off into nothing, “a place to heal. We must be diligent about who we let in.”
“But why does a tarot reading get to say who I am?” Natalie puts the cards back together in a neat stack and hands them over.
“Hmm, that is a good question. How about we let the cards give you the answers.” Without flare, she turns over the first card.
“I don’t even know your fucking name.” Natalie closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, as the headache makes its presence known with a throb.
“You may call me Ophelia.” She places the card in front of Natalie. “Revolution. I wasn’t expecting that for you. You’re going to cause some kind of disruption, but it’ll be good for you, and hopefully not too bad for anyone else nearby.”
Natalie scrunches up her face in her usual ‘what the fuck does that mean’ look, but stays quiet, waiting. When Ophelia doesn’t continue, she rolls her eyes.
“I understand what that means. You can pull the next card.” It is difficult to just sit here. Natalie could’ve just gone and found somewhere else to hide for a month, but no, Drunk Natalie had to pick The Haven.
“Revolutions don’t come easy. It’s possible to hurt you more than you realize.” Ophelia turns over the second card. “Reclamation. This card says if you make the effort, you can be free of the things holding you back.” Ophelia looks at Natalie and turns over card three.
“Ten of Swords. You’ll have to give something up to embrace something new.” Ophelia glances at Natalie before turning another card.
“The Star is going to help you reclaim your true self through the revolution of giving up what no longer benefits you.” Ophelia sits back, looking at the cards, a soft smile on her face.
Natalie sits stock-still, taking in everything Ophelia said with her perfected resting bitch face still in place. She’s had Tarot readings and other types of readings before with friends when they were hanging out at some event, drinking. None of them had hit her like this one. The others were all fluff about love and money. “Who’s The Star?”
“I don’t know. It could be someone you meet at The Haven, someone you already know, or someone you’ve not yet met.” Ophelia runs her fingers along her scarf. “It could even be divine intervention if you believe in that sort of thing.”
Natalie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no thanks.” She sits back in her seat and waits, wondering if the reading is over.
Ophelia flips a fifth card. “The High Priestess shall guide you through all of it. Your intuition is integral in learning from your past to breakthrough to your purpose in the future.” Ophelia closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
Natalie stares at the cards. “Who’s The High Priestess? You?” She sighs, trying not to roll her eyes again.
Ophelia laughs. “No dear, not me. And I can’t say who your guide will be.”
Natalie taps her foot on the floor. Looking at the cards, she shakes her head. “I still don’t really know what this means, though.”
“It means I can let you into The Haven because you truly want to heal, even if you don’t realize it yet.” Ophelia collects the cards and stacks them neatly.
“Can I ask you something else?” Natalie picks up her bag and fishes the journal out, opening it up to get the purple card out.
“Of course, I’ve got some time yet.” Ophelia leans forward to see what Natalie slides across the table.
“I found this card inside this journal. And the journal is how I learned about The Haven.”
“Ahh, yes.” Ophelia picks up the card, raises an eyebrow, and her smile turns salacious. “I have this deck. It’s called the Purple Passion Reflection Deck.” She stands and disappears around a set of shelves. “Here they are.”
Natalie watches as Ophelia uses a nail to slice open the plastic on the deck as she walks back. “Wait, there’s an entire deck? What are they for?”
Ophelia hands them to her. “They’re affirmations for women who are looking to reconnect with their sensual selves.” She sets a purple velvet bag down on the table by Natalie. “Here’s the bag they go inside. You can have these.”
“How much?” Natalie stops looking through the deck as she waits for some outrageous price.
“Nothing, this is my gift to you.” Ophelia walks over to a wall that has a framed tapestry hung on it. “Self-Intimacy will be part of your journey since that is the card that found you.”
Ophelia does something Natalie can’t see then, with a click and no hint of a sound, the tapestry swings open to reveal a carved door. “Come now, dear. Someone will meet you on the other side of this door.”
And what a door it was. Hand carved with hibiscus flowers, the phases of the moon, and palm trees. It looks like a path leads into the distance. It is pretty and Natalie feels drawn to walk down the path featured on it.
“This is the only door to The Haven.” Ophelia goes to open the door.
“No, wait. I’m not ready.” Natalie feels sweat break out on her forehead and the back of her neck.
“Did you read the journal you found?” Ophelia walks to the reading table and picks it up, flipping through it as she brings it over.
“Yeah, but I was pretty drunk when I did, so I don’t really remember much.” Natalie feels her face flush, and she focuses on the door, not wanting to see judgment from Ophelia.
“This was my journal when I first came to The Haven for healing. Take it with you. I think it’ll help you on your own journey.” Ophelia slips the journal back into Natalie’s bag and then takes her by the arm to lead her to the door.
“It’s a safe place, dear. You’ll be challenged, but no harm will come to you here.” Ophelia reaches out to open the door again.
Swallowing hard, Natalie straightens up. She nods at Ophelia. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Natalie is lying. She isn’t ready yet. Her pulse is racing and her mind is buzzing. She wants to return to the comfort and safety of what she knows. However, she knows now it would mean losing her job and her best friend. The need to move forward, to prove to them—and herself—gives her the strength to go through the door.
When Ophelia opens the door, sunshine fills the portal and reveals a beautiful veranda. She can hear ocean waves and its salty scent rushes into the shop.
With a soft smile, Ophelia gazes out at the sand and lush tropical plants. “I was once like you.” Ophelia gestures and gives Natalie a little push toward the door. “No more stalling. Time to go.”
