but instead she was greeted with these papers, a necklace with a creepy eye as a charm, and a rock. She’d gathered up her disappointment and the objects and returned them to their container. From that moment on, she was determined to create her own identity. She wouldn’t sit around and wait for someone to give her a piece of paper telling her who she was.
Looking through the stack of papers, she noticed that a few of them had drawings and symbols that she hadn’t noticed before; her memory was clouded by teen angst. They were actually very good. The style resembled ancient drawings found in Egyptian pyramids. She wondered if they were hieroglyphics. She placed them to the side; she would review them later. She was getting tired again and wanted to find her birth certificate to see if it had information to help her create her birth chart. Just as she thought of the word “chart,” a folded sheet of paper fell out of the pile. It wasn’t actually paper; it was more like papyrus. The grainy texture felt scratchy against her fingertips as she opened it. She glanced at the clock; it was a quarter to midnight. Yup, it was officially the strangest day of her life.
The folded sheet of paper was a natal chart. On the corner was her name written in calligraphy; unfortunately, her surname was smudged. This chart seemed a bit more intricate and colorful than Virgil’s normal nodes and cusps. There were animal caricatures and even hieroglyphics. She would need professional assistance to decode this, but she may learn something about her roots from this sheet. Who created a natal chart for a newborn? What a strange gift; maybe her parents didn’t have a baby shower registry.
She wanted to kick herself for waiting so long to look in the box again. Maybe she hadn’t been ready to find out the truth. Well, now she was. She went to her desk and turned on her laptop. She tried to find out more information about her chart, but none of the charts on the websites resembled the intricate details on hers. She decided to e-mail Virgil and request his services. He probably would never get back to her, but at least she would try.
She sent the e-mail, then yawned and turned off her computer. She looked at the time; it was already well into the next day. She got under her sheets. Hopefully today everything would return to normal. No more random and unusual events, she thought as she closed her eyes.
Chapter 6
Memphis woke up before her alarm went off. She felt great. She just needed a day of napping. She grabbed her running shoes; she would attempt another go at the park. She stepped into the sunshine. The Gods smiled at her newly regained strength. She ran three laps around the park and decided to run back to her apartment.
Just a few more blocks and then I’ll come back around, she thought as she passed the entrance to her apartment building. She lived by Central Park but never ran or walked over there. Hitting two parks in one day would definitely be a good beginning to this new health kick of hers. She ran down 85th Street, then onto Museum Mile. She cut through a parade of dog walkers and ran into the park. She felt free and weightless—as light as a feather.
“Light as a feather, light as a feather, light as a feather,” she chanted to herself between deep, even breaths.
She looked up at the trees, not paying attention to the other runners on the path and not caring about the glare from the sun. The trees were brightly colored, paying homage to autumn. Though it was the end of October, the leaves hadn’t begun to fall yet. The wind blew and she noticed one leaf beginning to fall, separating from the others. It was its time.
She stopped and walked toward the falling foliage. She felt bad that it had to go on this journey alone. She could empathize. She’d had to do it all her life. She walked faster; she wanted to be there when it reached the ground, to keep it company before she would have to leave. The descent was slow and graceful. Memphis wished she could go through life with such grace. She continued to watch the leaf’s dance. She wished she could join it, to be as light as the leaf.
“Light as a leaf, light as a leaf.