Deem replied. “Said you needed some help
reading a diagnosis?”
The woman’s eyes went wide, as though she was seeing an
oddity from a circus sideshow.
“Oh, Carma didn’t tell me,” the woman replied. She lowered
her voice. “So, you’re… you’re that way?”
“If by that you mean gifted, yes,” Deem whispered back.
“Come in,” the woman said, standing back from the door. Deem
entered and was assaulted by the dog once again.
“Monte! Stay down!” the woman yelled, but the dog was too
excited to listen to the commands.
“Give me just a moment, will you?” she asked. “I’m going to
tie him up in the backyard. Have a seat, I’ll be right back.”
Deem glanced around the room and chose a chair next to a
fireplace. Hung over the fireplace, in an ornately gold frame, was a large
painting of the St. George temple. Within moments the woman returned.
“I’m Ester Tait,” she said, extending her hand. Deem rose to
shake it. “Oh, sit, please,” Ester said.
“I’m Deem.”
“What an unusual name!” Ester replied.
Deem had heard it a thousand times, so she just continued on.
“Carma seemed overwhelmed with something, that’s why she asked me to come out. You’re
Carma’s niece?”
Ester smiled back. “She said niece? More like
great-great-great-niece. Might be more than that, I don’t know.”
“Oh!” Deem replied, surprised. Then she remembered that Carma
seemed a lot younger than she really was.
“My daughter’s been ill for several days now,” Ester said.
“We took her to doctors, but she told us they wouldn’t find anything, and she
was right. She called someone the day before yesterday and asked her to
diagnose what was wrong with her. It came in this afternoon’s mail. I can’t
make heads or tails of it.” Ester held up a small envelope. She handed it to
Deem.
“Can I talk to your daughter?” Deem asked.
“I wish you could,” Ester replied. “She goes in and out of
consciousness. Right now she’s out; she’s been out since last night. That’s why
I called Carma — I’m so worried! I don’t know if that letter you’re holding
will matter one way or the other, but I need to know before I drive her back to
the hospital! Come on, I’ll show you.”
Ester rose from her seat and walked down a short hallway,
turning into the first bedroom on the right. Deem followed. Inside was a twin
bed with a woman about Deem’s age lying under a blanket. She looked peaceful
and calm, as though she was sleeping.
“You have no idea what’s wrong with her?” Deem asked.
“No,” Ester replied. “Neither did the doctors. But look…”
Ester walked to her daughter. She pulled down the covers and
lifted her hand, showing Deem. Then she pinched her daughter.
“See? Nothing!” Ester said. “No response.”
She replaced the hand and covered her daughter back up.
“Alright,” Deem said, opening the letter. “Let’s see what
this says.” She pulled a single sheet of paper from the envelope and opened it.
There were about ten hand-written lines. She struggled to
read the elaborate cursive, but after a while realized it wasn’t just the fancy
lettering that was giving her trouble — there were some words she just couldn’t
make out at all, even when she tried to sound out the letters.
“I’m sorry,” Deem said, looking up at Ester. “I can only read
part of this.”
“You have the gift, but you can’t read it either?” Ester asked.
“This must be something I’m unfamiliar with,” Deem said. “Until
I understand the context of something in the River, I can’t read about it. This
was written by someone who understands something I don’t.”
“The River?” Ester asked.
“It’s what we call the place we go to, to see things that
other people can’t see,” Deem replied. “Your daughter never talked about the
River?”
“No, Lizzy never mentioned it,” Ester said. “Then again, I
don’t exactly encourage those things.”
“Ah,” Deem