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EXCERPT:
“It’s just as Bear foretold,” the Apache said. He closed his
eyes and moved his hands in small circles with palms out. “The fire’s burning,
but no one’s home in your teepee.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t feel like yourself, you’re feeling vacant and
disconnected, like something’s missing.” Joe spoke as he opened his eyes.
She gaped at him in stunned silence before whispering: “How
… why would you say something like that?” Henrietta’s heart thumped in her
chest as she nervously glanced toward the living room. Her husband was still
talking on the phone.
“Your soul speaks volumes through your eyes.”
“You see something in my eyes?” And she rubbed them again
with her handkerchief.
“I see what was there, what should be there, but is not
now.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine. My eyes were just watering,
that’s all.” She winced, knowing that it wasn’t true, hating that she’d become
such a liar.
“It’s okay, I’m here to help,” Joe said. He placed his
folded hands on the table after sitting down.
His smile and disarming empathy surprised Henrietta, but she
wasn’t going to be moved by what seemed like a sweet and insightful gesture.
Joe Loco was absolutely the last person in the world she’d choose to confide
in.
…
“Don’t worry. It’s obvious your soul has fragmented and is
in need of repair,” Joe said with a calm certainty, as if it was an everyday
matter to be dealt with.
“What?” Henrietta put her hands down and stared into space,
bewildered by his words. In the quietude, the sizzle of the frying eggs and
bacon filled the room like a choir of rattlers. My soul has what? When she
looked again at Joe, planning to demand exactly what he meant, his eyes were
closed, and he was whispering and holding his palms up as though in prayer.
So she placed the cooked food on a plate, poured a glass of
milk and put both down in front of him. He opened his eyes and smiled up at
her.
“That’s one of the strangest things I’ve ever heard—a soul
fragmenting,” she said. “How would something like that even be possible?”
“It can happen when we believe or experience something bad
we don’t want to face.” He took a bite of eggs and grits, closing his eyes
again to savor the combination. “Oh, this is yum-yum,” he said.
When he looked up, it was Henrietta who was staring.
“The good news is that lost soul fragments can be recovered
and healed. It’s not hard, if you know how, if you know the secret,” Joe said.
“Are you saying you know how to do that? That you know the
secret?”
“The Great Spirit works hitherto and I work.”
She crossed her arms. “So what are you, some kind of soul
repairman?”
AUTHOR BIO: