Harry Guakomoli stood across the street from the address Dinah had given him the night before. The lady with the black hair and vanilla-scented cigarettes told him someone named "Yvonne" could shed some light on his past, and she should be in this building. It seemed likely; an inactive pink neon sign in the window read "Miss Yvonne's Psychic Readings."
"Really?" The Guak said to no one. "Crystal balls and tea leaves are Dinah's idea of figuring out my past?"
Our hero looked to his right to see his cab driving away down the street. He figured since he was there, and now stranded, he should at least check this lead out. With his pine box of material possessions in tow he crossed the street. The Guak would have preferred to look inside the window first, but thick midnight blue curtains blocked his view. He opened the door and entered.
The room was dark, and it took a moment for The Guak's eyes to adjust. But our hero immediately recognized the aroma of marijuana and sandalwood incense, two scents the man disliked. Some over-produced hip hop song with a woman vocalist rapping that if someone wanted her "chocolate ass" that person better be prepared to pay. The lady rhymesmith accepted cheddar, ice, furs, and Gucci. And lots of them.
Once The Guak's eyes adjusted he was finally able to discern the layout of the room. It was dimly lit by a pair of table lamps with red shades, giving the space a rosy glow. Two couches and an easy chair, all of which had seen better days, surrounded an oval table in the room's center. The walls were decorated with presumably arcane glyphs and symbols such as eyes, the palms of hands, stars, and crescent moons. Off to the side was a cheap wooden counter; its face adorned with a yellow banner with the words "CASH MONEY ONLY." An archway in the wall behind it, and another at the opposite wall, were decorated with several beaded cords that ended just shy of the floor.
A dark shape surrounded by a cloud of smoke sat on one of the couches. The Guak gave the shape a closer look. She was an attractive black woman. He guessed she was in her mid-twenties. A tight low-cut turquoise tank top revealed a copious amount of cleavage, her mocha-hued bosom drawing even more attention from a long amethyst-colored crystal, attached to a sliver chain around her neck, situated between her breasts.The Guak thought her legs were crossed, but it was hard to tell by the low flowing floral print skirt. Her dark brown, nearly black, hair was long and straightened. It reminded our hero of the way Ebonia wore hers when she was still answering to "Maxine."
"Shut the door, man," the woman said. "I'm smoking herb up in here."
"Oh," replied The Guak before doing what was requested of him. "Are you Yvonne?"
"You a cop?"
"No, but you already knew that."
"I did?"
"I'm assuming if you thought I was the fuzz you wouldn't still be smoking that joint."
She looked down at the roach clip in her hand. It gripped the tiniest nub of a joint. She took a long hit off the pot, revealing a large silver skull attached to a ring on her index finger.
"I like how you call pigs "the fuzz"...officer."
"I'm not a cop."
"Then what the fuck do you want?" the woman demanded to know. "White boys don't come here on a Sunday morning wanting their palms read."
"I'm here to speak to Yvonne," our hero asserted. "Are you her?"
"No, I'm her daughter, Yvette. Yvonne no longer entertains guests, professionally or otherwise. But if you leave a message I'll see she gets it."
As if on cue a loud shriek sounded from somewhere beyond the archway behind the counter. Yvette rolled her eyes and rested the joint in an ashtray on the table. She stood up and looked to our hero.
"Don't move. I'll be back," said the beauty. "Okay? Stay put."
"Got it."
The Guak watched Yvette as she headed toward the scream. He couldn't help but wish she was wearing something tighter and shorter than that skirt. He wondered if her bottom half was as nice to look at as the top. He wagered it was.
Our hero tried to overhear what was happening between Yvette and the mystery screecher, but the ungodly awful hip hop drowned out most of the sound save for some incoherent mumbling.
"WE'VE LOST ALL OUR BIDNESS, BUT HIM YOU'LL SEE?!" Yvette's yell finally provided enough volume for The Guak to make out what was going down.
"I TOLD YOU TO SHOW THE MAN IN!" another woman screamed in return. "DON'T BACK SASS ME, GIRL!"
A few seconds later Yvette stepped back back into the room and stopped behind the counter.
"I don't know what makes you so fucking special," she said to our hero through clenched teeth. "But she wants to see you."
"Yvonne?"
"Yeah," she replied. "Now lock the door and get in there."
"Can I leave this out here?" The Guak asked as he held up his box.
"Sure. Whatever."
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