“Tell me again, why are we taking a yoga class?” Joann asked as she tried to maneuver her body into what felt like the human equivalent of becoming a pretzel.

“To keep us limber and youthful, blending our physical selves with our spiritual selves. And to make our sex lives with our husbands more exciting,” Tanya replied.

“Oh yeah, I forgot—you’re sure this is going to help Larry and me in bed?” Joann said as she assumed the Lotus position. Both of her knees cracked loudly. “Ouch! I’m about as flexible as cast iron stove.”
“In time, you will become a flowing river of flexibility,” Tanya said in what Joann came to think of as her “all-knowing hipper-than-thou” voice.

Sometimes, Joann didn’t understand why she and Tanya were such good friends. They were the antithesis of each other. Tanya was tiny with impossibly fine features, porcelain skin, and thick auburn hair. Whereas, Joann was big, sturdy, corn-fed and Teutonic—all she needed was a helmet with horns, a brass breastplate, and a spear. But the differences weren’t just physical. Joann was pragmatic, not given to fads or fashion trends. She was a no-nonsense woman, a low-maintenance woman.

And Tanya, well, she would fly off the planet if her husband Walt and Joann didn’t tether her to the ground, with their practical approaches to life. Tanya was always searching for the latest new-age cure for the ailment de jour. One week it would be Saint John’s Wort, the next week it was magnets, or crystals placed on the pressure points of her chakras—which she claimed were always out of alignment. She was always having her cards, bones, or aura read by the latest New Age psychic. She spent her time and Walt’s money wafting around Marin County in very expensive natural fabrics, seeking answers from New Age health gurus on the great question of our time: Supplements or a completely organic diet?

The only reason that Joann had agreed to take the Yoga class was Tanya insisted that she needed to try new things. And she’d read an article in the New York Times that validated the physical benefits of stretching yourself into a carnival contortionist. Lately, her forty-five-year-old body was betraying her on a daily basis. Things ached, breasts sagged, and her muscle tone was losing its tune. She had to admit that the yoga was making her feel better—and the yoga instructor, a young man named Jarred, was helping her libido reassert itself.

Jarred spoke softly as he led the class through the different positions. He would show the position and then walk around the room, gently placing his hand on a student’s shoulder or back to correct her posture. Joann would watch him move about, noticing the way his yoga pants clung nicely to his slender hips and well-formed butt.

Jarred was trim yet muscular. He had long golden-brown hair that was pulled back in a thick ponytail. His eyes were large, wide-set and sea-green, and his face was downright handsome—he could have been a matinee idol from a earlier time, with his perfectly straight nose, strong jaw line, and full mouth. But he was a yoga instructor and all of twenty-five-years-old, Joann reminded herself—and Larry was the love of her life, even if their sex life was in a yoga position all of its own: Downward facing slump.

After class, Joann and Tanya treated themselves to coffee at Shaky Ground, a local coffee shop that was frequented by those who would never step into the corporate pig, Starbucks. Personally, Joann was fine with Starbucks, and often went there on her own, but Tanya refused out of loyalty to the small businesses that the evil Starbucks was systematically eradicating from the landscape.
“I’ll have a regular cup of coffee with room for cream,” Joann ordered.

“And I’ll have a tall, shade-grown, Soy Chai latte, please,” Tanya added, although no such item was listed on the menu wall. The barista didn’t react; he went to work fixing their order.

“I think that shade-grown only refers to coffee, Tanya.”

“Oh, well it should also apply to tea.”

“It can’t, because tea isn’t grown where coffee is grown. Shade-grown is about not cutting down the rainforest in South America.”

“Really? I guess I thought it meant super organic.”

Joann shook her head, wondering if her friend ever read anything other than the I Ching and her horoscope. She would go to the New Age Renaissance Fair, and listen to every scam artist with complete conviction that they were preaching the truth, never bothering to do the actual research herself on the medical benefits of high colonics or the veracity of the claim that beef will sit in your intestines for seven years. Didn’t Tanya know that one good bout of food poisoning or intestinal flu will effectively clean out everything in your body? Joann shuddered.

“So today, we are going to go to my favorite bookstore, One Hand Clapping. They have so many great books on all aspects of healing and spirituality. Madam Vishnu will be there today. I want you to get your cards read and I’m going to have her read my aura—my treat,” Tanya told Joann as they sat at a table by the window.

“Great, I can’t wait.”

“Seriously, I need her to look at my aura and see if it has improved from last month’s reading. It was very muddy around the edges.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, it means that my life is out of balance—my physical self and spiritual self are not in sync. But I’m hopeful that with all the extra work I’ve been doing this month it will soon be back to its rosy, bright, normal self.”

“What extra work are you doing?” Joann asked, not able to imagine that between the yoga class, chiropractic appointments, meditation sessions, and regular daily workouts at the Dharma Droids Gym that Tanya could eek out any time for “extra work.”

Tanya’s face flushed a very attractive pink. Perhaps her aura was back to its rosy, normal self, thought Joann. But Tanya’s eyes were darting side to side as she tried to form an answer to Joann’s question.

“I’ve been taking extra yoga classes at night.”

“With Jarred?”

“Um, yes, but others as well.”

It was obvious that she didn’t want to go into details, and Joann didn’t really want to hear about more yoga stretches, with their silly names. Joann began making up her own names for yoga positions, as she sipped her coffee and looked out the window. She imagined Jarred asking Tanya to do a Twisted Tied-up Toad, an Upward Facing Guppy, a Sadly Shuffling Elephant, and a Sideways Stretching Goat.

A smile crept up at the corners of her mouth.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Tanya.

“Yoga.”

“You’re thinking about Jarred, aren’t you?”

“You got me.”

“You know you can’t keep anything away from me, with my psychic abilities.”

It was true that Tanya could sometimes read Joann’s mind, or so it seemed. Joann thought Tanya’s ESP abilities had more to do with them knowing each other for most of their lives than anything of a paranormal nature.

“He is kind of hot.”

“Yes, but in a really spiritual way.”

“No, in a really physical way.”

“I try not to think about the physical when I’m working on my spiritual self.”

“I thought we were taking this yoga class to help our sex lives, and you are specifically trying to balance your physical and spiritual selves.”

“It’s my spiritual self that needs the most work right now.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

Tanya gathered her purse and stood up, indicating that it was time to head off to the One Hand Clapping for their psychic readings.

Joann stood with the resignation of a woman about to go to a business dinner with a group of insurance salesmen. She was pretty sure she was going to hear the usual blather that her life was going through a rough patch, but soon things would be set aright, and that an elderly relative, perhaps her Aunt Minnie, was warning her from the other side to stay away from industrial-strength cleaning products.

One Hand Clapping was off of 4th Street on Lootens in San Rafael. It sat tucked behind an Oriental rug store and next to a public parking structure. It was nothing special architecturally, 1950’s utilitarian, but it housed the little bookstore and several curtained booths where psychic readings could be conducted.

The aluminum and glass door was held open by a three-foot-tall stone Buddha, who smiled serenely at all who passed by him. The scent of Sandalwood incense was streaming out the door. It could be smelled from a block away. Sitar music was softly and annoyingly emanating from the store as well. Joann was sure that the combination of the incense and Sitar music would give her a migraine. She wondered if she could hold her breath for an hour, or if she had any earplugs in her purse.

Tanya entered first. She greeted Shanti, the young sales clerk behind the counter. Shanti bowed her head and held her hands pressed in a prayer position.

“Shanti, Shanti be one with peace,” said Tanya returning the bowed head and prayer-pressed hands.
“Tanya, I just got in some powerful amethyst stones, they are so totally healing, you’ve got to sit with one. It will definitely heal your aura,” Shanti said, slowly bobbing her ringlet-covered head in an all-knowing way. Her nose ring bobbed along in agreement.

Tanya looked around the store, eager to touch one of the new stones.

“Where are they?” she asked.

“In the back, but I hung one over the door to heal people as they walk into the store.”

Joann, who had been standing out in front, girding her senses for the overwhelming onslaught that would shortly be upon them, stepped under the suspended one-pound amethyst. Shanti and Tanya were starring up at the rock when the flimsy fishing line that was tied around the stone and held in place by a thumbtack gave way. The amethyst bonked Joann on top of her head. She crumpled before them, hitting the floor knees first and face later.

“Oh!” Shanti shouted.

“Oh, my God!” Tanya ran to the prostrate Joann. “Call 911, call 911, Shanti, call them now.”
Joann rolled to her side and moaned. Her nose was bleeding, and was bent to the side. Blood was trickling down her face from a gash on the top of her head.

“Joann, Joann, can you hear me?” Tanya asked.

“Mmmuffaa.”

“What?”

“Mother Mary of God,” Joann finally managed to say. “What the hell hit me?”

“It was a healing amethyst crystal, so you should be okay,” Tanya reasoned.

“I am not okay, Tanya, I’m bleeding, and I can’t breathe through my nose.”

“Yeah, well, um, Shanti has called 911.”

Shanti came around the counter with a roll of paper towels and began wiping the blood from Joann’s nose and head.

“Wow! That was a totally powerful Karmic whammy. You should have Madam Vishnu read your aura—I’m sure there was a reason that the amethyst chose you.”

Joann looked at Shanti, looked at the rock sitting a few feet away from her head, and saw the fishing line still attached to the thumbtack that had rolled a few feet away from her bleeding nose. “Are you insane? It fell on me because some dim bulb hung it above the door with a cinchy piece of filament, securing it with a thumbtack to the ceiling this morning at precisely 8:30 AM before the store was to open.”

Tanya blanched at Joann’s remark. Shanti’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Joann, don’t get upset, your anger will only work its way back into your body and will negate all the good yoga breathing you did today,” Tanya said while patting Joann’s shoulder.

Joann was sitting up and had grabbed the paper toweling from Shanti’s hand to apply pressure to her head and nose. Through the paper toweling that made her look as if she were wearing a badly made paper burqa, she squinted at Tanya. The room was beginning to spin and there were two Tanyas in front of her—both with a look of concern on their faces. The light was growing dim, spiraling downward into a dark circle.

Tanya grabbed Joann by the arms as she began to fall from her sitting position on the floor, preventing her from banging her head once again.

Three firemen and two paramedics came clambering into the shop, carrying their gear with them. The paramedics quickly assessed the situation and packed Joann onto a flat board, immobilizing her head and body with straps. They picked her up and carried her off to the ambulance.

“Where are you taking her?” Tanya asked.

“Marin General,” said the Captain.

Shanti stood next to Tanya, who was gathering their purses, getting ready to follow the paramedics to the hospital.

“That was freaky. How did she know?”

“What are you talking about?” Tanya stared at Shanti’s bobbling noggin.

“She knew what time I hung the amethyst above the door.”

Tanya didn’t reply. She left the store while the freaked-out Shanti stood gazing out onto the street bobbing her head, ringlets, and nose ring to the rhythmic beat of her own thoughts.

Tanya hated going into hospitals. She hated the way they smelled, the way the linoleum was waxed, and the confusing rambling corridors that led to the different sections of the hospital. Fortunately, she was only going to the emergency room. She’d called Larry from her cell phone to let him know about Joann’s accident. He was heading over there right now.

Joann was lying on a bed in a small gray curtained space in the ER. The doctor, a middle-aged man with thick, gray, wavy hair was examining her. He sutured the gash on the top of her head and straightened her nose. He determined that she had a mild concussion, but she could be released after her husband arrived.

Tanya sat in a molded plastic chair next to the bed that Joann occupied.

“Larry will be here soon,” Tanya told Joann, trying to reassure her friend.

“Larry is going to be late—there’s an accident on the 101.”

“There’s always an accident on the 101.”

“This one is near the 580 exit in Larkspur, the traffic is backed up to the Golden Gate.”

Tanya stared at her friend, thinking that she was hallucinating. Joann stared right back.

“Did they give you pain meds? Because if they did, you’re having bad reaction…”

“No, they haven’t given me anything, except Novocain for the stitches.”

“Maybe your system can’t handle Novocain?”

“I’ve had Novocain all my life—what are you worried about?”

“Hello! Do you have a traffic report buzzing around in your head?”

“No. I just…”

“There’s been an MCI, first immediate patients expected in ten minutes,” a voice crackled from a ceiling speaker. Outside of the gray curtain, nurses and doctors scuttled about. Gurneys were being wheeled around, piled with medical supplies.

Tanya jumped up from her seat and stuck her head out of the curtain. She caught the eye of a nurse. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident on the 101. Multiple casualties,” the nurse called over her shoulder as she flew by.

Tanya twirled around to face Joann, who was resting with her eyes closed. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Know about the accident.”

“I don’t know, I just saw it in my head.”

“But you’ve never had ESP,” Tanya said, stomping her foot on the floor.

“Sorry.”

“Well, what else can you see?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask me a question?”

“Who’s going to win the Giants game tonight?”

“The Dodgers.”

“Well, they always win. I know!” Tanya said leaping from the chair. “What lottery number should I pick for Wednesday’s drawing?”

Joann closed her eyes and for about thirty seconds. “Sorry, all I’m seeing are thousands of numbers, not any particular set of numbers.”

“Bummer. Okay, tell me something that only I know about myself.”

“Tanya, I’ve known you forever. I know everything…wait a minute. You’ve been having an affair; you’ve been having a tryst with…oh my God. With Jarred!”

Tanya’s face beamed a bright scarlet. Fear crept into her eyes. Her lips began to tremble. “What did you see?”

“I saw you doing Tantric yoga, naked, together.”

Tanya’s eyes closed, her dark lashes nearly touched her cheeks.

“He said it would heal my aura.”

“He is a big fat liar and he’s been doing it with other women in our yoga class, eeewww!”

“I feel so, so…”

“Used?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, don’t worry. He’s about to feel the big wheel of Karma run him over. Tonight, Laurie’s husband is going to find them at the yoga studio and it isn’t going to be pretty. As a matter of fact, Jarred is going to end up right here in this emergency room.”

Tanya slumped in the molded plastic chair. She became quiet and had a sullen expression on her face.

“I know this is painful for you. But it really is for the best. You don’t want Walt to find out—it would break his heart.”

Tanya remained slumped and sullen, her face turned towards the beige wall.

“What’s going on?” Joann asked

“Why bother asking, don’t you know?”

“You’re upset with me.”

“Madam Joann knows all.”

“Sheesh! I can’t help it.”

“It’s not fair. It should be me. I’m the one who always had ESP. I’ve always been in tune with the universe. I’m the conduit for the voices. I’m the one, damn it!”

“Let me get this straight. I get bonked on the head, break my beak, get rushed to the hospital, where I’ve been diagnosed with a concussion, and it’s not fair to you?”

“You won’t know what to do with the gift of second sight,” Tanya pouted.

“You’re jealous.”

“I am not.”

“Are so.”

Larry pulled open the curtain to find Tanya with her arms akimbo and her fists planted on her hips, staring at Joann who was lying in the bed.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. There was an acc—”

“Yeah, yeah, we know already. I’m out of here,” Tanya said, picking her purse up off the floor and stalking out of the curtained enclosure.

“What’s up with her?” Larry asked.

“Oh, she’s just jealous because the voices speak to me, now,” Joann said in that all-knowing, hipper-than-thou voice, then she smiled beatifically at Larry, the love of her life.

Larry leaned over Joann, looking at her bruised-bent nose, kissing her on the forehead. The room became warm and rosy. Joann felt a tingle climb up from her toes to her belly.

“Larry, take me home and I’ll show you my new yoga position: Downward facing doggie.”

“Woof, woof,” said Larry.

©Jennifer E. Hewitt, 2008