are.”
Tuesday made soothing motions with her hands, a symphony conductor slowing the tempo. “Ask if the netsukes are close by.”
Olivia corrected her. “Netsuke. No “s” for plural in Japanese.” Then she obeyed. “Are they close by?”
“No, Ollie. Name them. You have lots of stuff close by. How is it going to know which you mean?”
“Well if it can read my mind, wouldn’t it know?”
Tuesday ignored her. “Do it again.”
Olivia, despite herself, moved into a zone. She stood very still until the locket hung over her feet still as a stone. Very quietly, she said, “Are my netsuke close by?”
The two friends studied the locket as if waiting for a genie to appear. It began to make minute movements. They became stronger and in a few seconds indicated yes.
A big smile erupted on Olivia’s face. “Am I standing next to them? Uh, the netsuke? Am I standing next to the netsuke?”
The answer was no this time.
“Am I standing near the netsuke.”
The pendulum answered with a resounding yes.”
Excited, now, the friends searched the room, but saw nothing on the tables or the floor near where they stood.
Tuesday pointed to a clump of furniture by the wall. Olivia protested, “I wasn’t over here yesterday,” but did as she was told. Still nothing.
Tuesday insisted they do it again. “But remember. Ask about them by name. That’s important.”
Once more, Olivia stood riveted in place until the locket was still. “Am I near the netsuke?” she asked
This time the locket took off like a firecracker, giving an affirmative answer. Again, they scoured the floor and the furniture, two tables, a sideboard and pie chest, but found nothing. Olivia continued moving around the showroom and the pendulum continued to answer that she was near her valuables. The only spot that gave a negative swing was by the front door.
Tuesday saw that as a triumph. “It’s telling you they didn’t walk out of the showroom.”
Olivia stuffed the locket into her pocket. “Enough. We’ve been over the whole showroom and it tells me it’s here. But where? Come on. We’ve got errands to do.”
Tuesday frowned. “It isn’t going to work if you don’t cooperate and believe.”
Olivia retorted, “If it’s dependent on my believing it’s telling me the truth, then it doesn’t have any power of its own.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Olivia headed up stairs for her purse and jacket. “Come on. I need to make a call to a client, then let’s get out of here.”
She meant Mr. Bacon, who hadn’t returned the message of apology she’d left yesterday. He didn’t answer his phone this time either, so she left another message suggesting a meeting time later that day. Before they left, she stopped Tuesday.
“This isn’t hot LA summer, Tues, it’s northern California freeze-your-bohonkus-off-in-the-summer summer. You’ll need a cover-up.”
When Tuesday returned with a turquoise faux monkey fur wrap, Olivia wished she had kept the weather report to herself.
Chapter Thirteen: Downtown DV
They stopped first at The Fresh Fishery that stocked the morning’s catch. Jesse, the owner, trucked it over from Bodega Bay every day, along with a crate of Hog Island oysters. Jesse, a twenty-six year old Harvard biz grad, once explained to Olivia that he ran a computer model of his business and used focus groups to test everything down to the exact faded blue color paint that would lure customers nostalgic for Nantucket Island. It worked. Even at 9:00 am the line for his homemade chowder, which he sold by the quart, was down the street. Rather than waste the morning on line, Olivia suggested they get an early start the next day for chowder, and settle for a dozen oysters for lunch, which Jesse’s assistant shucked and packed in seaweed and lemon quarters and tied up in a plastic bag.
Jesse emerged from the back office as they were leaving and threaded though the crowd leaning into the counter trying to decide
Tuesday made soothing motions with her hands, a symphony conductor slowing the tempo. “Ask if the netsukes are close by.”
Olivia corrected her. “Netsuke. No “s” for plural in Japanese.” Then she obeyed. “Are they close by?”
“No, Ollie. Name them. You have lots of stuff close by. How is it going to know which you mean?”
“Well if it can read my mind, wouldn’t it know?”
Tuesday ignored her. “Do it again.”
Olivia, despite herself, moved into a zone. She stood very still until the locket hung over her feet still as a stone. Very quietly, she said, “Are my netsuke close by?”
The two friends studied the locket as if waiting for a genie to appear. It began to make minute movements. They became stronger and in a few seconds indicated yes.
A big smile erupted on Olivia’s face. “Am I standing next to them? Uh, the netsuke? Am I standing next to the netsuke?”
The answer was no this time.
“Am I standing near the netsuke.”
The pendulum answered with a resounding yes.”
Excited, now, the friends searched the room, but saw nothing on the tables or the floor near where they stood.
Tuesday pointed to a clump of furniture by the wall. Olivia protested, “I wasn’t over here yesterday,” but did as she was told. Still nothing.
Tuesday insisted they do it again. “But remember. Ask about them by name. That’s important.”
Once more, Olivia stood riveted in place until the locket was still. “Am I near the netsuke?” she asked
This time the locket took off like a firecracker, giving an affirmative answer. Again, they scoured the floor and the furniture, two tables, a sideboard and pie chest, but found nothing. Olivia continued moving around the showroom and the pendulum continued to answer that she was near her valuables. The only spot that gave a negative swing was by the front door.
Tuesday saw that as a triumph. “It’s telling you they didn’t walk out of the showroom.”
Olivia stuffed the locket into her pocket. “Enough. We’ve been over the whole showroom and it tells me it’s here. But where? Come on. We’ve got errands to do.”
Tuesday frowned. “It isn’t going to work if you don’t cooperate and believe.”
Olivia retorted, “If it’s dependent on my believing it’s telling me the truth, then it doesn’t have any power of its own.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Olivia headed up stairs for her purse and jacket. “Come on. I need to make a call to a client, then let’s get out of here.”
She meant Mr. Bacon, who hadn’t returned the message of apology she’d left yesterday. He didn’t answer his phone this time either, so she left another message suggesting a meeting time later that day. Before they left, she stopped Tuesday.
“This isn’t hot LA summer, Tues, it’s northern California freeze-your-bohonkus-off-in-the-summer summer. You’ll need a cover-up.”
When Tuesday returned with a turquoise faux monkey fur wrap, Olivia wished she had kept the weather report to herself.
Chapter Thirteen: Downtown DV
They stopped first at The Fresh Fishery that stocked the morning’s catch. Jesse, the owner, trucked it over from Bodega Bay every day, along with a crate of Hog Island oysters. Jesse, a twenty-six year old Harvard biz grad, once explained to Olivia that he ran a computer model of his business and used focus groups to test everything down to the exact faded blue color paint that would lure customers nostalgic for Nantucket Island. It worked. Even at 9:00 am the line for his homemade chowder, which he sold by the quart, was down the street. Rather than waste the morning on line, Olivia suggested they get an early start the next day for chowder, and settle for a dozen oysters for lunch, which Jesse’s assistant shucked and packed in seaweed and lemon quarters and tied up in a plastic bag.
Jesse emerged from the back office as they were leaving and threaded though the crowd leaning into the counter trying to decide
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