“What do you mean?”
“Your dream must be the one that you really don’t want to talk about, or you would have started with that one,” Rosie replied. “So spit it out.”
When I finished the story, tears rolled down my cheeks. Cold chills raced up and down my spine. My grandmother used to shiver and then say, “A goose walked over my grave.” As a child, I thought that was so funny, because Granny was not dead. Retelling the dream made me realize that I had seen my own death. I didn’t understand what a goose had to do with anything, but reliving that nightmare certainly made me understand Granny’s saying.
Rosie crossed herself again, only this time she kept her head down a little longer before she focused on me. “Okay, here’s what I see. The dreams are not two, but one. They are tied up together, and everything is going to hinge on your decisions in the next few months.”
I braced myself when I felt the next quiver coming on, but I still shuddered.
“Do you want me to go on?” she asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“If you go back to your old lifestyle, you might not physically pass away like your mother did, but your spirit will die. You will always wonder if you might have had a fuller, happier life if you gave up gambling,” Rosie said.
“But when I died in the dream, Jackson and I were together, and he was so sad. I like him too much to get into a relationship and break his heart like that.”
“That man could possibly be your soulmate. If you leave him for another poker game, he will go back into the army and die—again, maybe not physically, but mentally. That’s why I said your dreams are not two, but one that’s intertwined together.”
Listen to Rosie,my mother’s voice whispered softly in my ear.
“Are you all right?” Scarlett asked. “You have gone really pale. In my opinion, you should go get whatever test the doctors can do to be sure you don’t have anything wrong. If you do, they can fix it before it becomes a problem.”
“I’m a little bit superstitious, and sometimes I hear voices in my head—not the kind telling me to do evil things, but the ones that advise me,” I admitted. “My mother is the one I’ve been hearing the most often here lately, and Ada Lou’s voice screamed at me this morning.”
Did I really believe in all this hocus-pocus stuff?
Do you shuffle cards every night?Mama’s voice was back.
“I hear God speaking to me,” Rosie said. “And sometimes my mother. She tried to steer me right. I didn’t listen to her, and that’s what got me into trouble. So, in my opinion, we should listen to the voices in our heads. They could be angels, you know.”
Scarlett raised a hand toward the ceiling. “Amen and hallelujah. I’m not as good as Rosie, so I’m not sure I hear God talkin’ to me, but I do hear my grandmother repeating things that she told me when I was a little girl.”
“Okay, then, the consensus is that I need to ...”
“Follow your heart, not your mind, and don’t ever look back,” Rosie finished my sentence.
“Amen again!” Scarlett agreed.
“Yes!” Rosie’s tone was so excited that I half expected her to start singing gospel music.
“Why does that give you the Holy Ghost?” I asked.
“Because it’s what I did,” Rosie said with conviction, “and I give thanks every day for the help I’ve received. I’ve never had a single regret about my decisions.”
Scarlett nodded in agreement. “I have never looked back and yearned for something different. Now, moving on, do you have boots to wade in the snow?”
“I’ve got a pair of fancy boots that come almost to my hip, but they have four-inch heels,” I answered. “Why do you ask?”
“We’re going to the café tomorrow even if we have to carry a bag of extra clothing with us to change into if we get wet from here to there. I can’t stand to be cooped up in this trailer another day past that,” Rosie said with a long sigh. “I can teach you a little about the books, and Scarlett can clean.”
“I love cleaning,” she said. “I wish my name was Monica.”
“Why would you want to have that name?” I asked. “I like Scarlett much better.”
“Did you ever watchFriendson television?”
I got it then. Monica was the character who was obsessed with cleaning. Well, if Scarlett loved that job, I surely would not fight her for it.
