White and Sage

Trisha endured the cleansing like a champ, even though it took me longer than it took Amy. She opened her eyes and flashed a serene smile I'd never seen before, not caring about her wet locks sticking to her temples and cheeks. We took her hands and helped her back to her feet without a word, waiting for her to say something.

"I could float away in the wind," she said, and she seemed to glow in the golden daylight coming in through the kitchen windows. "But I would rather take a nap."

"You have an hour," Amy replied softly.

Trisha's hug took me by surprise. "Thank you!" my friend whispered in my ear, and left the room with a light, placid gait that left me gaping.

"That's the effect?" I asked.

"When you're clean, this harmonizes your energy centers and sweeps away all the stress." Amy went to the sink for more hot water. "Your turn, Fran. This is gonna take a bit longer, because I'm gonna sage you after the cleansing, to give you some protection against him."

So I kneeled down and closed my eyes, focusing on breathing deep and slow. And a few minutes into the cleansing, I understood why Trisha felt so light. It was like dropping a ton of rocks burdening my shoulders, without me even realizing they were weighting me down. The warm water slid down my head and my chest like a loving caress that made me feel contained and contented. It took me a moment to be able to open my eyes again. When I finally did, I saw Amy lighting up a bundle of sage. And all the peace and harmony went out the window.

"Wait," I said. "What about Kujo? Will I be able to go anywhere near him smelling of this? Now more than ever, I can't allow any obstacle coming in the way to reach him."

Amy frowned, thoughtful, and winked at me. "I'll be right back," she said. And to my surprise, she headed down the basement stairs with the smoking bundle. "Hey, Kujo, does this affect you in any way?" I heard her ask, her voice fading away as she approached the corner. "Fran needs it to be protected around Price." A brief pause. "Oh, great! She'll be happy to know."

Amy was back to the kitchen in a minute, smiling through the sage smoke.

"He doesn't exactly dig it, but when I told him it was for your protection, he said it's okay, he can take it." She chuckled. "I should be taking notes to write a book about you two."

So she did her thing with the sage, leaving me stinky and coughing, teary eyes.

"Go take a shower. Pick clothes that don't make you look like a ball of hay. You need to be able to move freely. I'm gonna make us a bite."

"Yes, ma'am."

A few hours later, without any other bomb going off in our hands, the three of us crossed the garden to go knock on the guesthouse door. Isaac opened it wide for us to walk in. Right as Amy had asked, he was wearing white from head to toe, linen pants, a loose tunic shirt and liners on his feet.

"Where are we doing it?" he asked.

"Here, in the living room," said Amy.

"Come, let's get it ready," said Trisha.

We left them pushing furniture around and went on to the kitchen. We were there, filling two large glass pitchers with hot water, when we heard footsteps down the stairs that came to stop at the kitchen doorway. I refused to turn around, afraid I might freeze and drool like earlier, back in the garden.

"That's not white," I heard Amy say.

So I had to look back. The underfloor heating allowed Price to go barefoot. He was wearing loose white beach pants down to his hips and a white long-sleeved tee, the whole front covered with a dragon in black and red.

"This is white," he replied, frowning down at his tee.

Looked like Amy's personal preparation for the cleansing included not hating his guts around the clock, because she flashed a smirk.

"Congrats. You'll get to show off your six-pack, Brandon," she said, brushing past him on her way out of the kitchen with one of the pitchers.

He scowled at me, like it was my fault, and went after her. "I ain't catching a cold because you don't like the design."

I muffled a chuckle and took the other pitcher to the living room.

Trisha and Isaac made a great team. They'd already moved the furniture, rolled the rug and spread Amy's white cotton mat, the size of a king-size bed sheet, painted with the symbol of the thousand-petaled lotus in pastel colors, to cover the floor in the middle of the room. Now they were readying two cameras on tripods to film the cleansing. Price kept trying to pick up an argument with Amy, who glanced at me. So I handed her the pitcher and turned to him.

"You don't have anything completely white to wear instead of that tee?" I asked softly.

"No," he grunted. "I brought three of these."

I didn't know which parasite fed on his spoiled brat mood, but the ugly thing was surely having a blast.

"Maybe Isaac can lend you one?"

He pursed his nose, disgusted. "I don't use other people's clothes."

Then I recalled a video YouTube kept suggesting but I'd never watched, simply because the title was just too ludicrous: Every Time Brandon Price Took His Shirt Off While Investigating, or something like that. The thumbnail didn't offer much detail, but it was plain to see it was a collage with at least six different pictures. Meaning he'd done it more than once or twice. So I decided to try my luck.

"Well, it's warm in here, and bet your fans will love the chance of seeing you without your shirt again."

I had a glimpse of Amy's smirk behind him and looked away from her to keep from laughing. Because my lousy trick worked: he snorted and shook his head, playing annoyed, and then shrugged.

"Did you take the drops for your migraine, so we don't interrupt the cleansing?" I asked, bringing my voice down. "Are they working?"

He nodded with a quick smirk. "Yeah, but don't tell your friend."

I nodded too, holding back my laughter again. It had to be the effect of Amy's cleansing, cause I felt relaxed, prone to smile and holding a generous stock of patience for Price's mood shifts.

"The candles, Fran."

Amy handed me two dozen tea light candles and as many tiny glass holders.

"Are we setting the house on fire?" Price asked, curious in a playful way.

"Maybe the day after tomorrow," Amy replied. "Can you guys set them?"

So we did. He was in charge of fitting the candles in their holders, for me to place them in the best circle I could make around the mat. Amy had set both pitchers on the mantelpiece and now she opened a fabric pouch with ground herbs that smelled of sage and juniper.

And while we were busy getting the ritual ready, the brand new dynamic duo was having their own little moment.

"Where are we gonna stand?" asked Isaac from one of the tripods.

"You're gonna be kneeling on the outer ring around the lotus, facing each other," Trisha replied.

"Kneel? The whole time? I'm gonna need pads tomorrow!"

"C'mon, you're not that old. Yet."

"You cruel child." Isaac narrowed his eyes. "Then we should move your tripod over there."

"And maybe use one more angle? A wide shot from that corner to show the whole thing?"

Isaac turned to Price, smiling. "We could really use these girls, man."

Price handed me a candle, met my eyes and raised his eyebrows with a smirk that made me swallow a silly giggle.

"You set it," Trisha said to Isaac, producing her phone. "I wanna film the preparations."

"Only if you share the videos later."

"Yessir."

When we were finally set and ready, all the candles burning, Amy and I took off our shoes, wore long white robes on top of our clothes and she played relaxing instrumental music on her phone. She made Price and Isaac come to stand on the mat facing each other, three feet apart. She made me stand between them on Price's left, and she completed the circle opposite me. She closed her eyes, breathing deep and exhaling slowly for a whole minute. When she opened her eyes again, I saw the sweet beaming woman I'd met two weeks earlier, only now she radiated serenity.

"Your shirt, Brandon," she said softly. His hesitation made her smile. "Help him, Fran."

I would've killed her, but she'd already explained that if I was to cleanse him, I was the only one to touch him until we were finished. So I consciously overlooked the expectable tingling in my fingertips and did as she said. Price pulled up the front bottoms of the shirt and I did the same with the back, helping him push it over his head. Which gave me a panoramic closeup of his broad back and each and every muscle he used to take the damned tee off. And I was to stay inches away and even touch this for the next thirty minutes.

My placid state of mind threatened to capsize. Not easy, touching that fit, toned body that looked ten years younger than the owner. I was truly grateful his arms and everything else below his chest wouldn't come into play. I threw the tee to the couch, hoping Ann wasn't there and I hadn't smashed it on her face, and hurried back to my place.

Amy reached out to both men and I did the same. Isaac's hand was warm and firm, a friendly grasp. Price hardly closed his fingers around mine, like he would've rather kept his skin from touching anything.

"Let's close our eyes for the opening prayer," Amy said.

We did, and as she recited the first incantation, I felt Price did his best to hold my hand like it wasn't nuclear waste.

"Please kneel down."

They did, keeping their bodies straight from their knees up, arms to their sides.

"Your glasses, Brandon," Amy said.

He frowned. "I have this condition, double vision—"

"You don't need your eyes for this. Keep them closed," she replied softly, and glanced at me.

So I bent a knee before him with a quick smile. He frowned but allowed me to take his glasses off. He breathed deep, closing his eyes. I handed the glasses to Trisha and went back to my place at his left.

It felt like thirty minutes out of time, while we moved around them, letting the warm water with herbs drip from glass bowls onto the crown of their heads, and rubbing oh so gently the back of their necks with white cotton cloths. Amy recited the incantations for the both of us, and I tried to follow her under my breath. We washed their necks and rested both hands on their shoulders and chests, then back to the beginning until we completed the process three times.

As we repeated the process, once again I felt about Price like I did when I was with Kujo: the need to help him be restored and well. The last time I kneeled to rest my hand on the left side of his broad, hard chest, I truly wished what I was doing would help him at least a little, and that warm water smelling of herbs would wash away some of the darkness that veiled his spirit. Then I held the wet cloth open against the back of his neck with my other hand one last time, and I felt oddly moved as I muttered the last words of the final incantation.

"So be it," Amy murmured.

I dropped my hands away from him and felt my eyes welling. So I shut them tight for a heartbeat, my head down, trying to overcome that unexpected pang of emotion that urged me to hug Price. Until I felt a gentle hand pressing my shoulder. I breathed deep and looked up to find Amy's warm smile. I nodded slightly, not in shape to even try to force a smile, and stood up with a shaky sigh.

Price and Isaac remained very still, chins to their chests, eyes closed. I signaled Trisha to hand me Price's glasses, and when I saw him raise his head, eyelids fluttering, I put them in his hand and pressed his fingers around them. He wore them before opening his eyes, and when he did, his first look was up at me.

To my surprise, he flashed a mild smile and reached out to grab my hand. I took it and tried to help him up.

"I ain't that old, y'know," he said, amused, standing up like he hadn't been thirty minutes kneeling still.

I raised my eyebrows, all of a sudden fighting yet another silly giggle, and let go of his hand.

Amy patted Isaac's arm softly and faced them, her warm smile nailed to her face. "You did great, both of you. This is all there is to it. We're doing the same tomorrow and the day after," she said. "Now go take a shower, throw these clothes in the bin and try your beds. Don't be surprised if you sleep the whole night through."

Trisha came from the couch, where she and Isaac had set a laptop with the live feeds from the three cameras. She winked with a proud smile.

"You're gonna fucking love the footage," she said to Isaac.

"Language," Amy and I chided her.

Trisha frowned, looked back at the couch and grimaced. "Hope I wasn't sitting on her lap?" she whispered.

Isaac gave Trish a grinning thumb up. "You're owing me the phone videos."

"Yessir. As soon as I'm back to the Manor."

"Wanna be my personal assistant?"

"Production aid."

"Whatever you want."

While we picked everything up and stuffed it all into Amy's big bag, the Haunters looked like just out of a massage session, tilting their heads toward their shoulders and rubbing their chests and arms. Price didn't seem in any hurry to wear his tee again.

At the first chance he got, he stretched out his right hand to shake Amy's.

"Thank you, Miss Taylor," he said in his nice, charming way.

But his smile faltered when Amy looked down at his hand without accepting it.

"I'm sorry, but for the next two days, Fran is the only person that can touch you."

He turned to me, his smile going smirk in a heartbeat. "The only one? Are you busy after dinner?"

I was hardly a step away from him, so I punched his arm while the other three sons of bitches laughed out loud.

"Ouch!"