Amadeus squirmed and leapt from my arms. He shot through the door, and instinctively, I darted after him. As I pushed it open, I noticed that the interior side was washed in a brilliant, deep, crimson hue. Blue on one side. Red on the other. My stomach twitched. Was it coincidental? I met a faceful of beads and a lungful of what appeared to be incense. I coughed and flung the beads away. Seated around a tiny wooden table were three ancient women, passing around a pipe. The room was richly red, the women were dressed in red, and the pipe was lacquered a beautiful, elegant burgundy with a long stem. They flicked their eyes towards me, smoke floating from one's mouth like a charmed serpent. Everything was velvet and satin and smoke and red. I felt the piquant aromas drift into my lungs until all I tasted was the sweetly nauseating smoke. The women regarded me calmly for a minute, the one on the left picked up Amadeus and stroked his back, which arched contentedly. The one on the right puffed silently on the pipe, and the center one shuffled through a deck of tarot cards.
"Sit, please." The left one, holding Amadeus spoke. My head spun. I wondered what was in the pipe that was making me so dizzy. My heart tried to beat quickly, but it only made sideways, sluggish movements. She gestured to the fourth chair, a parlor chair covered in a red petal-patterned material. I sat down, eyeing them warily. Their faces were broken up by a network of wrinkles, reminding me of a map of constellations that I owned when I was little. That's what their faces looked like, maps of connected stars.
I had a million questions swimming around in my head. A big neon one flashed, over and over. CAN YOU EXPLAIN THIS? DO YOU HAVE THE ANSWERS? But the smoke thickened my reflexes, and all I could do was stare at the top of the table. I was obviously under the spell of a powerful narcotic, but I didn't care. I couldn't care. Suddenly, everything was philosophical. Everything was magical, and the curtains shimmered like sunlight on the ocean. I looked at the three women, hazily. I watched as their figures came into focus, like the lens of a camera. Sharp. Their faces broke into smiles, and tunnels of light opened over their heads. I felt an incredible moment of clarity, the kind that only advanced psychedelics could provide. Vibrant red caterpillars covered the table, and I let them drip through my fingers like jewels.
"Phoenix."
The left one spoke, her voice resonating, the frequency something like the one emitted by a harp or lyre, and my eyes drifted in her direction.
"You want answers."
The caterpillars turned into deep red butterflies, the coats shiny and glinting. They fluttered into the air like a snowstorm of blood, soft wings beating against my face and neck. I closed my eyes and felt them brush against my eyelids. My mind was a stone that had sank to the bottom of a clear pool. Red ferns lined the edges, dipping their leaves in. Smoke curled from the mouths of the birds that flew overhead.
|