Soul Dancing with the Brass Band (The Brass Band Series) by Vicki Renfro

approaching full moon. I flipped on the lights and we headed toward the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.
    “Not coffee, Hillary; tea. The bags are in the second drawer,” Ruth ordered.
    Ruth’s mom, or staff, sent her back to school with a fully stocked kitchen. Who knew we had tea? I opened the drawer and it was stuffed to the brim with exotic looking boxes.
    “What kind should I make?” I asked.
    “Hmmmm…I’m thinking gunpowder green tea, with a splash the coca that was grown in Machu Picchu for the high priests. That’s a good combo for tonight. See if you can find a bowl for the sage… and bring the salt shaker, too.”
    “Next thing you’re going to say is that you have a Ouija board,” I said jokingly.
    “Not with me. It’s at home in Kansas City. Bring that stuff over here and let’s get started.” Ruth lit the smudge stick and started to walk around from room to room, waving it and shaking the ashes into the bowl. “Bring the salt, Hillary. You need to shake a little in the outside corners of the rooms.”
    “Ruth, you’re going to get us in so much trouble. The sage smoke smells just like pot!”
    “If the cops come, I’ll do a reading for them, too,” she said while mumbling some kind of chant under her breath.
    “Where did you learn all of this stuff?” I asked.
    “Quiet; I’ll tell you in a minute.” We made one circle around each room, opened the closets and shower curtain for a quick wave of sage and ended at the dining room table.
    “Thanks Ruth. Now all of my clothes smell like pot. I don’t think a ghost was hiding in my closet.”
    She ignored my comment and ordered me to get the tea while she set up the candles and cards. When I returned with our steaming mugs, the cards were in a stack on the table with a crystal sitting on top.
    “Where’d that crystal come from?” I asked.
    Ruth shrugged. “Everyone has a crystal or two lying around, don’t they?”
    “I don’t,” and then remembered, “my mom has a few in her jewelry box at home, but I don’t think they have anything to do with card readings.”
    “Maybe…. after she put you to bed as a child, she snuck out behind the chicken coop, to dance around the Maypole with all the other Pagan farmer wives… always keeping the crystals in her pockets to gather goddess energy!”
    Ruth’s visuals always cracked me up. “How do you know so much? Are you a Pagan?”
    “No, I’m a Catholic. Haven’t I ever told you about the boarding school I went to?”
    “Are you still a virgin?” It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
    Ruth looked me straight in the eye and said, “Not as much as you are. I haven’t gone all the way, but I’ve played on the fringes.”
    “I didn’t realize virginity came in degrees. I thought it was either yes or no,” I said as we both began to laugh. “Just deal the cards.”
    “You’re right handed, so hold the deck of cards in your left,” Ruth instructed. “That’s your receiving side. It’ll take a couple of minutes for your energy to permeate the cards. You can drink your tea while I light the candle and turn out the lights.”
    “The candle smells great, but the room’s a little dark. Will you be able to see the cards? I think we need to turn on the kitchen light or something,” I said as I strained my eyes to read the small print on the cards.
    Suddenly, the room was filled with a weird bluish glow. “I think this will work better. It’s a little less direct.” Ruth had turned on our computers and put them in opposite corners of the living room.
    “Is this supposed to be spooky or enlightening?” I asked, truly not knowing what Ruth would do next.
    “Uplifting and informative! We’ll get better lighting for next time, but for now this will have to do.”
    “Now, tap your right knuckles on the top of the deck to clear all of the old energy out. Really Hillary, just do it. I had Angel Cards at school, but I figure this deck works the same way.”
    I