Age:
High School
Reading Level: 4.4
Chapter One
Teresa was usually good about following her mother’s orders. Her mother had instructed her to stop by for beans, milk, and tortillas—the foods they ate the most of—on her way home from work. Then to hurry home and start dinner.
But high on her freedom and a particularly good day of tips, she decided to go on a little adventure.
Instead of going straight home, she decided to wander into the Botanica next to the Mexican market.
It was a small store that sold candles and herbs, lotions and potions, wishes and dreams.
She left her groceries in the backseat of the car to protect them from the late afternoon sun. She’d just tell her mother she’d been held up in traffic. Or that there was a long line at the store.
She put her keys into her little gold-colored purse and walked into the store. It had a flickering neon Psychic sign posted on the window.
Chapter Two
“Balls. Stress balls?” Teresa said to herself, picking up a pair of brass spheres.
They weren’t perfectly round, though. And they were connected by a ring.
She turned one of them over and read the Made in China sticker. Right next to it, it said Brass Milagro Charms. She read the full inscription twice more.
“Milagro. Really? Milagro? Why not just write Miracle?”
She slowly put them down on the glass counter. It was cluttered with other charms, candles, herbs, books on how to use herbs, oils, idols, and colorful jewelry.
She scanned the countertop. There were three idols sitting right in a row.
A smiling Buddha. An elephant god riding a rat. And a naked woman, with a round, soft belly.
She reached out and turned the Buddha away from the goddess. “You shouldn’t be looking at her,” she whispered with a smile.
When he moved, a bell tinkled softly. She hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding one. The sound traveled through the shop.
Chapter Three
“You can have a sit while you wait for Una to see you,” said the young man. He was slowly fanning the pages of a magazine behind the counter.
She smiled to the floor and walked to the other end of the room. A row of chairs faced a coffee table with magazines and burning incense. That was a fire hazard, if Teresa ever saw one.
She made no eye contact with the young man. She hadn’t been able to speak to him when she came in. Now, she knew she would laugh.
She felt silly asking to see the fortune teller. She wasn’t even sure that’s what Una—as the young man called her—was.
Her mother called her a bruja—a witch—when she gave the speech about avoiding such people.
She had always wondered what was in the Botanica, but never dared to enter. She’d see people go in and out, on her way to and from work.
She thought she’d finally find out for herself why it was so popular. And why not get a reading while she was at it?
Maybe this Una lady could tell her that her luck might change. At least, that’s what she told herself.
It kept her from feeling guilty about spending her tip money on something petty. But hey, it wasn’t like she was wasting it on lotto tickets.
