sometimes thought of as dark. Destruction necessarily precedes change.
As powerful as ley lines are, in any dimension, it’s the intersections you want to pay attention to. That’s where vortexes form.
So. Haight-Ashbury. Some say it became the epicenter of change because of cheap rent. The story goes that the old Victorian buildings had survived the big fire. The city declared imminent domain to build a freeway. The project fizzled, but former residents had relocated to suburbs. That left lots of old, mostly empty buildings in disrepair with cheap rent and loose rules about what happened there.
That’s the version for those who must have a mundane explanation. For those open to the truth? Ley lines. Haight-Ashbury is at the intersection of ley lines made more powerful by the history of the geographic area.
Ever seen the tarot Tower card? Haight-Ashbury.
Lyric never would have guessed that showing Shivaun how she could change her clothes with a thought could be so much fun. He actually laughed so hard at one point he thought he might lose his breath, which was impossible for a demon, of course.
It started when he suggested that she prepare for the trip to 1967 by looking the part. After an hour of watching her delight in trying on costumes, he began to see why the odd heterosexual male might end up in women’s clothes design.
It took a couple of weeks to meet all Gray’s demands. When the day came, he walked across the street with a small pot of geraniums in hand. He rang the bell and listened. The undertones of music quieted just before Cass came to the door. When her eyes drifted down to the flowers, she looked surprised and thrilled.
“Doo! Those for me?” She grabbed his sleeve and pulled. “Come on in here.”
Cass closed the door and walked off to the kitchen. “I made a gingerbread loaf yesterday. Still good. Want some?”
“No. I, ah…”
She stopped and turned, looking suddenly serious. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not that anything’s wrong. Exactly. I just got this opportunity to maybe do something with music.” She sat down. Gray set the pot gingerly on the vinyl dinette in the kitchen. “I’m taking off. And, uh, just wanted to say… You know.”
“Bye.”
“Yeah. Wanted to say goodbye.”
“What kind of opportunity?”
“Sell some of my songs,” he lied. And even though it was a little white lie and necessary, he felt the sting of guilt. She deserved better.
Cass nodded, smiling sadly. “Can’t say I won’t miss that face. And having a kindred spirit to talk music to. But I gotta love the opportunity for you.” He nodded. “You’ll stay in touch?”
“Sure.” He lied again. He was still standing, shuffling back and forth because lying made him nervous. He supposed he needed to get used to it because he imagined he’d be doing a lot of tale spinning where he was going. “Well, I’m takin’ off. Just wanted to say bye and, you know, thanks. For…”
“The guitar?”
He laughed. “Yeah. For my first guitar. And so much more,” he said, hoping she heard the sincerity.
“I’m your biggest fan. Always will be. You be sure to let me know if you’re gonna be on TV.”
He gave her a heartbreaking lopsided grin and one last look over his shoulder. As he turned toward the door his eye caught a magazine on the top of a pile. Jimmy Page and Jack White on the cover of Guitar World, “The Art of Playing the Devil’s Music.” He snorted to himself thinking, ‘If they only knew’.
Lyric and Shivaun met Gray at the San Francisco airport. His sister and niece thought he was going on a mountain climbing adventure of a lifetime. The adventure part was true. Incredible in the true sense of the word.
They traveled to the hotel by limousine because Gray had never been away from Texas. It was Shivaun’s idea. She knew firsthand that new experiences help flexibility. And Gray was going to have to be flexible if he was going to go “Living in the Past”, Jethro Tull.
The demons talked to each other quietly and left Gray alone to take in the sights. He was too excited, and probably anxious, to notice.
Lyric had arranged for two rooms at the Metro Hotel, right in the middle of the Haight-Ashbury district. It was modern, but funky and colorful in the way a tourist would hope for. When Shivaun heard the part about a room for Gray and a room for the two of them, she laughed at Lyric.
“Nice try, conquistador.” She looked at the clerk.