Sara sat behind the counter reading a book about Kabbalah. Another subject as arcane to him as flower arrangement or playing the cello. “Hello again,” Sara said. She had a friendly face. Ray nodded. “Half-price Tarot readings today,” she said. “If you’re interested.” “No, thanks,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. He’d had enough backwoods voodoo for the time being. Although he didn’t believe in telling fortunes with cards, it still made him uneasy. What if the Death card came up, as it surely must, just like the ace of spades, by the laws of probability? Would he drop dead days later, like when a witch doctor pointed a skeleton finger at someone and they died just from the belief that it really would kill them? He’d pass. She smiled. “How about a cup of tea?” Ray hesitated. He was dreadfully thirsty. “Sure.” The old woman turned toward a hot water dispenser, put some loose tea into a tiny silver tea ball, and dropped the tea ball in a mug. Ray smiled at the neon blue running shoes poking from beneath her batik hippie dress.
