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Authors: G. P. Ching

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BOOK: WeavingDestinyebook
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Dane locked eyes with her. "I thought you could, like, see the future now. Don't you know what's coming?"

Malini twisted her hair between her fingers. "That's not my gift. The medicine woman could see the future. I'm life and death, remember." She toyed with the stone around her neck. "Maybe I could ask her. I haven't been through since I got back. She might be able to help us."

Jacob grunted. "Um, yeah, that might be a good idea. I mean, it's just our lives hanging in the balance here. We had enough trouble polishing off two of them in Chicago. It might be nice to know if thirty of them are going to storm Paris next week."

"Hey! I'm new at this. You don't have to be such a bastard about it. Why don't you worry about you? Go spar with Mara and get off my case."

Dane stood and lifted his orange tray, although there was fifteen minutes left for lunch. "Thank you, you two. Glad to know my life is in the hands of two people who obviously love each other but are too proud to admit it." He strolled away toward the conveyor belt, leaving Jacob and Malini seething in opposite directions at their regular table.

* * * * *

After school, Malini walked into her room and slammed the door. Oooh, Jacob made her so angry. To be the one who kissed another girl and then to act all hurt around Dane about breaking up. It was a joke. And now he was being critical of her new responsibilities as a Healer. Well, he could just shove it.

She tossed her backpack on the side of her desk and flopped down on her bed. Her room seemed to taunt her. Everywhere there were pictures of places she wanted to go: the Eiffel Tower, a safari in Kenya, the Grand Canyon. She had always wanted to be a citizen of the world, to help people. But she never wanted this.

From the time she was small, she'd wanted to be a journalist. If she was someone who had access to the events of the world, she could shed light on corruption, and bring help to those who were hopeless by telling their story. That's how she wanted to help. Now, as a Healer, she was expected to dole out life and death. She was like a human version of the scales of justice. Who wanted that kind of responsibility? It was so unfair.

A knock on her door made her jump. "Come in!" she called.

The door creaked open and her father walked in. He stood awkwardly in the center of her room.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"I'm fine."

"You seem upset. Maybe if you talk to me about it, it will help."

Malini crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the window. "Dad, no offense but you don't have any idea what I'm going through. There is no way talking to you about this is going to help."

Her father folded his hands behind his back and raised his chin. He walked to the window. Looking out over the side yard, he placed himself in her line of site.

"Maybe not. When I was your age, I wasn't allowed the freedoms you have. We were taught to concentrate on our studies. I used to sneak out to see your mother. It was years before my parents knew about her and then my father was furious." His voice trailed off. He seemed distracted.

"You snuck out to see mom? What, in India?"

"Yes, India. Your mother was in a different caste than my family. It wasn't customary for us to court each other."

"But you did."

He smiled a slow, broad, grin. "I did. I married her anyway. I'd say we've made our own traditions."

Even though her mom had told her the history before, this was more personal information than her father had ever shared with her. The sudden confession made her suspicious. "Dad, what is this about?"

"I realized something today, Malini. In just a couple of months, you are going to be seventeen years old."

Malini sat up in bed, crossing her legs in front of her. "You just realized how old I was?"

"In less than a year and a half, you'll go away to college."

"Um, yeah. I guess." Malini wondered how college would fit in with her new responsibilities.

"I grounded you for the last five months to keep you safe and you were almost killed by a random act of violence. Now we're talking about moving, about selling the business to keep you safe."

"I told you before, I don't think that's necessary—" He cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"You know what I think? I think, I won't ever succeed at keeping you safe, Malini. Because at almost seventeen you're not supposed to be safe. When I was your age, I was taking risks with my life, with my family, and most importantly with my heart." He turned toward her. The light behind his head from the window made it impossible to see the details of his face.

"What are you saying, Dad?"

"I'm saying, you're not grounded anymore. I'm saying you can go to prom with whomever you want to, whether I like them or not. I'm saying that we're not moving. Live your life, Malini." His hand motioned around the room, toward all of the pictures of all of the worldly places. "Do what it is you want to do! Do the thing that will make you happy! I did and I have never regretted it. "

He stopped talking. Malini flew from the bed and wrapped her arms around her father. She kissed his cheek and hugged him as tightly as she could.

"I love you, Daddy," she said.

"I love you, too."

"I broke up with Jacob. That's why I'm upset. I thought we were destined for each other but I guess not."

Her father looked down into her face, stroking her hair back from her eyes with his hand. "Don't you know about destiny, Malini? Destiny is not a place that we navigate to like a pinpoint on a map. Destiny is a fabric woven from our choices. It is the cloak we wear every day and the shroud that covers us in our death. You can't wait for destiny to find you. You make it for yourself."

Malini tossed the words around in her head. Destiny is a fabric woven from our choices. She thought about the sari she'd worn on the other side, made out of the experiences of her ancestors. In a way, all of their choices had helped her. All of their lives had created who she was and given her guidance when she needed it most.

"Thank you," she said through happy tears. "Thank you for trusting me."

He kissed her forehead and headed for the door. She could clearly see the wet gloss in his eyes now, the tears hanging on his lashes. "Mom says dinner in a half-hour."

"Okay."

He closed the door behind him.

More than anything, at that moment, Malini felt blessed. And somehow, with that knowledge firmly in her heart, she was able to do what she was meant to do. Quietly, she locked her bedroom door.

She hooked her fingers around the gold chain at her neck and pulled the red stone pendent over her head. Leaning back against the pillows on her bed, she focused on the stone as it dangled in the afternoon light. The transition to the other side was quick, as if her body had become used to the idea.

Fatima was at her loom, the woosh-woosh of the shuttle creating a peaceful rhythm. "Welcome back, Malini."

"Fatima, I need help. I need to know when the Watchers are coming."

"You know better than to ask me. I don't know the future. Only the past and the pattern it creates."

"But patterns repeat themselves in the cloth. What does the pattern tell you about what could happen?"

She gave a husky laugh. "I would say that sometime between now and a hundred years from now, the Watchers will try to kill you. You are this generations Noah. You are the leader. They wish to bring about a new flood and you are humanity's best hope for stopping them. "

"Sometime between now and a hundred years from now. Great. I don't suppose you can be more specific. "

Fatima held up a length of cloth. "This tapestry is the history of every person in your world over the last fifteen seconds. Each stitch is a choice. You tell me if you could be more specific."

Malini looked at the yards of fabric shimmering in Fatima's arms. "Point made," she said. "I need to consult with the medicine woman. Can you tell me how to reach her?"

"You're in luck. She's on the veranda having tea with Death." She motioned toward the archway.

Malini walked out into the daylight glow. The tiny Peruvian woman was hunched at the table across from Death. He sat unnaturally straight on the teak patio furniture watching Wisnu chase something small, brown, and furry through the yard.

"May I join you?" Malini said.

They both turned at once. "Of course!" the medicine woman said. "We've been waiting for you."

Death smiled, but lowered his eyes when she looked in his direction. He stood in the same stiff fashion as he sat, straightening his tuxedo and pulling out her chair for her with a gentlemanly bow. She sat down as he pushed it back in.

"I need to know when the Watchers will come," she said.

"And what makes you think that I know better than you?" she said. Malini could tell she wasn't speaking English but somehow she could understand exactly what she was saying.

"I thought you could see the future? I thought that's why you gave the stone to Jacob? He said he used it to find out what would happen."

"It is true that I can see possible futures, but you are capable of the same. It's part of being a Healer."

"How? How do I see it?"

"This sari shop—this is your vision space. When Jacob comes here, it is a hardware store. When I come here in my own power, it is a garden of Manioc root. When I want to see the possible futures, I pick up a handful of earth and let it drift through my fingers. The answer comes in the individual grains of sand. The Earth mother makes the dirt. I read the dirt."

"You mean to say that I should read the threads of the sari material inside? But there are millions of yards of it! How could I possibly find what I'm looking for?"

"That is why I meditate and purify myself. A pure mind sees clearly. It takes practice."

"So you meditate, and that is how you know which dirt to pick up?"

"Yes. And you will know which fabric to pick up. But use it sparingly. Too much prediction can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. In fact, I rarely tell those who ask the whole truth of what I see. It might take away their ability to change it."

Malini sighed and took a sip of the tea Death had poured for her. She noticed his left hand had inched across the table toward her right. The proximity made the bones thrum beneath her glove. Tiny sparks seemed to climb up her spine when she turned to meet his black eyes.

She shook her head and turned back toward the medicine woman. "Can you tell me what you see? This one time, can you help me? I'm still learning."

"I will do what you ask, Malini, but then you must do something for me."

"What? Anything. I'll do anything."

"I want you to come to see me in the physical world, in the Achuar village where I live. I want you to come with the boy who visited me before. What was his name? Jacob. Come with Jacob. And when you come I will ask you to do something and you must do it."

Malini crossed her arms and frowned. "I'm not sure I can make Jacob come. We're not…getting along right now." She felt her shoulders tense and her blood boil at the thought of him.

"Those are my terms."

"Fine. I'll find a way." Jacob wouldn't deny her if it meant stopping the Watchers.

"Henry, would you leave us? This is a future that is only Malini's to know."

Death stood and gave a small bow.

"You have a name? Like a real name?" Malini blurted at Death.

"Of course. I was human once, just like you. My name is Henry." He reached out as if to shake her hand but when she extended hers he lifted it between his fingers and kissed the back of it instead. He turned as if to go.

On impulse Malini stood, knocking over her chair.

"Henry, would you like to go to the prom with me?"

His dark eyes burned, growing wider at the question. "Of course. I would adore the chance."

"Great! It's—"

"Oh, I know. I know exactly when it is." With another small bow and a turn of his shaggy brown head, he took three steps into the yard and disappeared entirely.

It took a moment for Malini to realize the medicine woman was laughing next to her. "What's so funny?"

"It's a brave young woman indeed that invites death into her life."

"You mean that figuratively, right? I mean, he seems like such a nice guy and kind of, I don't know, lonely."

"I wonder why that is?" She cleared her throat. "But to the task at hand." The old woman braced herself on the corner of the table and reached one arthritic hand to the ground. She scooped up a fistful of dirt and let it cascade through her fingers. "I see the streets of Paris flooded with angels and Watchers. Soon…when the earth is just waking up and the crops are saplings."

"Will we survive?'

She squinted at the dirt. "One among you has the power to save all of you at a great price. You must trust in those around you to do the right thing, even when you are not sure what the right thing is."

"What does that mean?"

The medicine woman opened her eyes. "That is all I see." She poked Malini's shoulder. Now you come. You come as you have promised."

Malini rested her chin in her hand, feeling swindled. At least she knew they were coming before summer. "Yeah. Okay," she said.

"One more thing," The old woman stopped at the archway. Malini noticed the painful way she bent forward and wondered how it felt to carry the weight of over two hundred years. "You don't need the stone anymore to come here. This place is inside of you. You can come here anytime you want. Give the stone away to another you think needs access to this place."

"Thank you."

"And don't forget to come see me." She looked in the direction of Death's castle and sighed deeply. "I think it's best you come before prom."

"I promise," Malini said.

The woman took two steps and vanished. Malini stood and walked into the shop, overwhelmed by the bolts of fabric that were stacked floor to ceiling. Would she ever be able to read them the way the medicine woman read the dirt? It was too much for her to take in. She said her goodbyes to Fatima, and returned to her room on the other side.

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