Rise of the Wadjet Witch - By Juliet C. Obodo Page 0,23

of the class.

Memphis padded over to the changing rooms to grab her shower supplies. The water was nice and hot as she stepped in the shower. She tried to let the water wash away the negative image of Martha falling, but she suddenly felt a sense of urgency. She had to get out of the shower and get dressed. She ran out of the bathroom, hair still wet, and saw Martha walking backwards toward the stairs. No one saw the errant yoga mat behind her. Memphis called out to warn her, but it was too late.

No! She thought as she saw Martha begin to fall.

Everyone seemed frozen in shock. They watched in horror as their teacher fell, her hands reaching out to grab something to stop her descent. Memphis reached out to grab Martha’s hand and felt her soft grip. She and Martha looked down at their hands in surprise before Memphis pulled her up to the landing.

“Memphis, my dear, thank you!” Martha exclaimed breathlessly.

Everyone gathered around them, asking Martha if she was all right and patting Memphis on the back for her rapid reflexes. Everyone was so relieved that Martha was all right that they didn’t seem to notice or care to ask Memphis how she was able to get from the bathrooms to the landing so fast. Memphis decided to leave before they could think to ask any questions.

She grabbed her bags and checked her phone. She had a voice message from Jill. The IT guy was able to trace the astrogirl88 e-mail account’s owner, but they were very confused when they found out who it was.

“It said it belonged to you, Memphis. Give me a call when you get this.”

She immediately returned Jill’s phone call. Jill was on Madison Avenue at Vera Wang’s store, trying on gowns. She invited Memphis to meet her and they would discuss the e-mails while she provided input on the gowns. Jill didn’t sound as lively as usual. She hoped she wasn’t angry with her for using her resources to find out about Astrogirl.

She opted to take a cab instead of the subway from the yoga studio. Budget be damned, she deserved it—she just saved a woman’s life. It dawned on her that she was somewhat of a hero. Maybe she was Astrogirl. Not the gross pornographic one, but a nice one who saved well-toned older ladies from death.

She smiled to herself and accidently caught the cab driver’s eye. She immediately stopped when he gave her a suspicious look; no one smiled in a New York City cab unless they were up to no good. Fortunately they were already near the store or he would have probably stopped the cab and told her to get out. She paid him and exited right in front of the store. She suddenly became aware of her wet hair and shabby post-yoga outfit as she walked into the store’s polished interior.

“Hello, may I help you?” A consultant approached her with the enthusiasm of a first time lion tamer.

“Why, yes. I’m here to meet a dear friend of mine. Jill Walden?” Memphis replied in a British accent. Whenever she felt underdressed or underclass, her nerves forced her to go into Bridget Jones mode. Everyone looked better when they spoke with a British accent. She was sure she read somewhere— possibly in Vogue—that it had been clinically proven..

The bridal consultant must have taken part in such a trial because she instantly lit up at the sound of her voice. “Of course. Miss Walden is already in a gown; I’ll take you to meet her. Right this way.”

Memphis followed her to the back of the store.

“So where are you from?” the consultant asked, attempting to make small talk.

“I’m from London,” Memphis replied. Duh. Accent.

“I love London. Which part?”

“The main area, where most of the action is.”

“Oh. Kensington? Earls Court? Piccadilly?”

“Yes,” was all Memphis said.

“Piccadilly! I love the area, but how could you stand all the noise?”

“Earplugs.”

“Ha! Yes, those would help. Did you ever go to that Indian restaurant on the corner? I can’t remember the name.” She looked up, hoping to find the answer near her eyebrows.

“Looks as if we’ve arrived,” Memphis said abruptly.

“Jill, honey, I’m here,” Memphis called out. She heard a huge sob. She and the consultant looked at each other in confusion. “Jill?”

“Yes, I’m in here!” she called out between sobs.

“Miss Walden, can I get you anything?” the consultant asked, and Memphis told her to get some tissues and water. The consultant nodded her head and