Luc Baldwin was born to rich parents. They weren't really old money, but there had always been lots of it. Entitlement so finely woven wealth did not leak. Unless you were a tracker of spiritual legacy the source of original wealth mattered little in today's world. Thing was though, the cowlicks that whorled on the back of Luc Baldwin's head knew where the money began and even in braids the stubborn patterns would have their way. Dani was one of the few people who got close enough to track that legacy, and she was very good at keeping secrets and better still at maintaining The Borders. The cowlicks? She's never seen them. But the lines and matching whorls that lived in the man's palms were maps she read with keen and respectful agility.This was a man who could, and did, say one thing today, because he meant it, and tomorrow reverse course and say exactly the opposite thing. Cowlicks are those wild-hair territory that show up on human heads in unexpected places. Or, perhaps it is as the Ancients of India say, it is the sacred God -- the cow who has licked your head leaving the hairs with minds of their own.
The shortbread was rich, and the plate was empty."It's a good thing you have a constitution of a horse Mr. Baldwin," Dani teased knowing Luc would bike an hour back to his gated lake-side complex once he left and could afford to eat the plateful of confectionary. "A race horse, bred to win. I like the race and ..." Dani held Luc's left hand and finished his sentence, "You like to win. Now what bit of that story do you question. Or have you changed your mind about racing or winning?"
The usually confident man ran his right hand over his forehead, "I've been having dreams. Every night I have the same, or similar dream. My father is in it, but he's not really like Dad looks today. I just know it's him though. We're in this shop together going through racks of clothes ... jackets, coats. Denim studded jackets." Luc's eyebrows pinched in a look that made Dani laugh. "We talk about the feel of the fabric. He says he'd like to get matching coats. Some nights it's the same shop. Other nights like last night, the shop had no ceiling. I can feel warm breezes and see clouds racing. We have never shopped for clothes together." Luc drove the point home pulling his hand free to motion with both hands. "Never buy jackets off the rack." He stopped, aware Dani was reaching for his hands. She was slowly pressing the soft part of his palm between thumb and index finger. She was listening, but more than that she was seeing the dream.
Rather than give her interpretation of Luc's dream, Dani DeSilva knew the proper thing to do was open space for Luc. He knew the meaning of his dream. And, from her angle Dani suspected this was one of the big dreams that didn't slip into the waters of the collective dreams. This one was Luc's. "You've never said what your family did to have the money they, and you have. People talk, and there are lots of stories, but you are coming to a woman who takes photographs that tell stories all on their own. You return almost monthly wanting what I have? My business. And. And. You ask me for stories I read in lines that mark your palms." Defensively, though not very, Luc countered, "I pay you for your stories, even offer you more than you ask. An E.O.R. Equal Opportunity Reader." Luc was punting here, but little did he know how close he was to the truth. Dani DeSilva was bred to give every one she met an equal opportunity. For a moment she remembered how her mom had nicknamed her an E.O.E. Equal Opportunity Eater who could be a vegan with vegans, while relishing a plate with juicy burger and fries if offered one. Luc Baldwin is not your mother. The voice reminded her.
"There is another piece of this dream that comes just before I wake up. I'm ..." Luc hesitated to choose the words. "I think I'm flying and as I look down at my bed I can see myself, lying there. It's me in my bed. But if I close my eyes and cozy down I'm flying above an old clipper. A sailing ship. A large one. I see men climbing the ropes. A man and a woman are on the deck. The dream fades again. I try to see what's next. But just like the rest of this dream, I don't see anything new. I've dreamt this dream every night every night since I last ate those Sweet Sisters Shortbread".
"You remember, that's the important part Luc." Luc shrugged suspecting she was probably right but still hadn't the slightest of clues as to what it meant. Dani drew her index finger through the middle of Luc's hand. "This line that runs deep through the center of your hand, both hands, but the left one is deeper than the right. See that?" Luc was curious, always curious about the maps Dani DeSilva read in this palms. Skeptical in most encounters with people, he was oddly trusting when it came to Dani, and looked at his palms. "Yeh, I see them. This one runs right through my Heart Line." The basic lines of palmistry included the line that went from left to right across the top third of the palm. Luc's Heart Line stopped just below his middle finger and was a line 'with feathers'. Dani had used that description to point out the light but visible etchings that she read as a heart that could be flighty. When he asked what that meant Dani said, "You like to wonder into short flights of fancy, but at your core your heart is true. See how deep and otherwise uncomplicated that line is? Once you find a love this will last. You love women!" When he'd first heard this Luc nearly laughed himself out of his chair. The woman was poetic with her discoveries.
Dani was fascinated with the connections she was seeing between Luc's dream with the clipper ship and the Fate Line that was flashing like purple neon. "Your Fate Line runs right through that solid heart line. There's something in your destiny that will move you smack in the center of her family legacy. Something to do with love, maybe betrayal even. Fate Lines don't appear in everyone's hand, and some readers call them the Line of Fortune. I'm reading ..." Dani stopped for emphasis, and to consider how she phrased what she was about to say. She knew the power of magic and the responsibility to share what was shown to her. Dani picked up her gut instinct and asked again, "You never have said how your family is so rich. Before you tell me ... 'cause I'm not asking you to tell me. Not really. What I'm asking is for you to be open to the possibility that your being here today with your hands out." She paused again and those deep clefts, the dimples that carved ancient spaces in both cheeks were glowing. "I'm saying you might be on to something your Fate Line is teleporting you. Wait here, I've got something for you." Dani's apartment, which Luc has never seen was up the stairs. To get to it you had to go outside. Years ago, when you first leased the place she thought about opening up an entrance from within the gallery but her instinct said wait. She was glad listened to the voice. Having a separate entrance kept work downstairs, and home upstairs. Border protocol was important. Dani pulled her keys from the tiny pouch she wore on a soft leather strap around her neck. Just two keys and one shiny stone. Light-weight but a medicine pouch with all the protection she needed. With an easy turn of the key, the dead lock opened quietly the door opened in and jangled the wind chime placed just inside. "I'm home!" Her cat was glad to hear it. Lotta was a small blonde cat who had found Dani the night she signed the lease on the apartment. Her golden eyes blinked awake, but sleep was far too delicious after a night out. Meooww. Dani rustled the drowsy kitty's head on her way to the bookshelves that lined both sides of the beautiful old window at the back of the apartment. This end of the large open room looked down at the tiny but bountiful garden where Dani kept her hands in dirt. She found what she'd come looking for, slipped her middle finger into the top of the spine and collected the book. "Later Lotta. We'll go for a work before dinner, I promise." The cat liked a routine though sometimes, things came up and she (the cat) did have her own door and a fire-escape that took her on adventures leaving Dani to fend for herself on occasion. Still ... the walks had been a forever treat so she let out a Meooww and followed Dani to the door.
Luc had poured himself another cup of coffee careful to drink it while standing over the sink. He was leaning with his hip up against the old wood cupboard when the front door of the gallery opened, bell jangling and Dani with her dimples tucked away had a book in her hand. She waved it like a flag. "Flying Cloud ever heard of it?"
"Nope, sounds like the name of an important chief."
"It does, doesn't it. It's not. It's the name of the fastest clipper ship during Victorian America. It was built in New York, and held the record for a cross-Atlantic journey until 2000."
"Wow, must have been some ship." Dani handed Luc the book. A rendering of the clipper was on the cover.
"I was a very beautiful ship built when the tall trees of the New England past were looked at as the Costco for rich and powerful merchants. You know to get something from here to there meant you had to travel by water, and that did not mean packing your manufacturer sink from China to San Francisco in a cargo container. Flying Cloud was built with a cargo hold that could house the chickens, pigs, and ice to make a thirty day voyage around Cape Horn from New York to San Francisco. But that's just the front line story Luc. The real story, at least for me when I first read it, was the story of the navigator who charted the courses from New York to San Francisco. Here is where the story really gets trippy. And ... Luc I think this story, have clues to the story you're after."
Luc knew enough about Dani DeSilva to know her intuition pointed to something. Any of his questions or skepticism would lead to more questions because of course, he was asking from his head. Dani read his pause, "The only way to it, is through it. Read the book young man." Her gestures were dramatic and playful, making her even more beguiling. Yeh, it was an old-fashioned word for hooked but there it was. Without prying into his family secrets, Dani allowed the man with cowlicks a challenge. Connect the dots. He was willing to explore the connections, he was a gambler at heart, a heart with feathers. "I take the challenge." Luc had a check written and folded in his shirt pocket. He handed it to Dani.
"No. Read the story first. When you're done with the book, give me a call we'll talk again. You can give me a check for both the readers then. But. No calling or pestering me until you're finished reading. Deal?"
"Deal."
