How Bittersweet is Karma

Ready To Take Over: Karma

We wandered through the halls, talking and laughing, and my heart felt lighter. It also didn't matter to me anymore that I had no idea where I was. Allison really seemed to have the makings of a good friend. That thought tugged at my conscience. Did I really feel comfortable laying down roots here, making friends? Potentially forming a connection with Demetrius? A part of me wanted to believe that all of this was a bad dream, that there really was no such thing as the supernatural.

But then I recalled a conversation I had with my grandpa when I was a little girl.

He'd always seemed so much larger than life. Listening to him preach on Sundays, I would absorb his words like oxygen. Once I was able, I wrote them down, then stood in front of the mirror and pretended to be a preacher like him. One Sunday after church, we had a potluck picnic outside, but it was hot, so I went in search of a cool place and ended up in the sanctuary. With no one around, I was brave enough to stand next to the podium and pretend I was giving a sermon. A few minutes later, my grandfather walked in, and when I paused—terrified I was about to be in big trouble—he gestured for me to continue. Then my inner diva came out, and I hammed it up for him. When I finished, he clapped, and I took a bow. I must have been nine or ten at the time.

"Karma, girl, you gonna be ready to take over this church someday."

I remember feeling a pit in my stomach as my grin faded. "But Papa, what if my words aren't the right ones? What if they aren't Bible words?"

His smile had dimmed a little, but understanding shone in his eyes. "You're gonna do great things with your words, baby girl. Whether it's in a church, in a school, or maybe even in front of the U.S. House of Representatives, you are gonna make people listen."

I'd crawled into his lap in the pew. "You mean those words are important too? Even if they aren't Bible words?"

"Baby girl, words have power. As long as you use them for good, they're just like Bible words. The important thing is to make people believe in what you are saying by being a good example. Then your words will have strength, and you'll be using your power for good."

"Like Spiderman?"

He held a finger up to his mouth. "That's supposed to be our little secret. Grandma doesn't like those comic books. You'll get us in trouble."

We giggled together, and he urged me to get up. "It's time to clean up and head home. Thank you for letting me hear your words."

"Thank you for letting me say them."

He bowed, I curtsied, and he chased me out of the sanctuary.

"Hey, Karma, where'd you go?"

I turned to Allison, startled to find us sitting in a booth in a lounge containing red velvet drapes and a stage with a disco ball hanging over it, casting sparkly lights all over the room.

There were five other booths, all filled. A woman came out on stage in a form-fitting black dress and bowed before grasping the microphone stand.

"That's Daphne. She's . . . well, she comes to sing every now and then."

The woman sang a pop song I knew well, but did she say Daphne? "As in Daphne Valentine?"

Allison raised her eyebrows and rested her chin in her hand. "She's so beautiful."

"She's . . . but she—"

"She passed away a few years ago, yes. Sometimes she comes back to Neither Here Nor There to play."

Flashes of faces I'd seen here passed through my mind. Prince, Farrah Fawcett-hair, the Gibb brothers minus Barry . . .

"Oh my God," I whispered.

"The King, actually," a male voice said.

I spun around and found two men with Demetrius, one of whom was frequently seen here in town. Well, some form of him anyway.

Allison stood. "Yay, you guys made it."

I figured the other man I didn't know was Phillip when he kissed the hell out of Allison.

"I wasn't gone that long," she whispered.

I'm pretty sure he growled before turning to me with his hand out.

"Miss Thoth, I am Phillip Payne. I'm very glad to meet you. We have a lot to discuss."

I shook his hand, receiving a pretty significant shock when he touched me.

"And this," he said, presenting the familiar looking face, "needs no introduction, I presume?"

"Mr. Presley, it's an honor," I said.

Yes, I was a big fan. Papa did allow the King's gospel records to be played at special church events.

"No need to be so formal, darlin'. Have a seat."

Allison sat on my right, with Phillip on her other side, and Elvis sat next to me. Demetrius remained standing at the edge of the booth. He nodded to me and then stood with his back to us as he surveyed the room. I wanted to speak to him, but Elvis continued talking.

"You've had quite an adventure," he said. "Don't blame you for being all shook up."

Phillip and Allison groaned, and Elvis held up his hand.

"Hey, now. Don't be cruel."

He winked at me, and Allison and Phillip laughed.