Your work will change you, especially when it involves shadows.
When she looked in the mirror now, Solas could barely see any resemblance to the young woman she had been a mere twenty years before. She used to look quite different, with rosy cheeks and bouncy, blond hair.
Now, her skin was pale, almost translucent, depending how the light hit it, and her hair, streaked with large strands of grey had changed color and texture.
Saying that Solas did not care about the way she looked would be a lie, she cared.
She meticulously chose her clothes each morning, she carefully combed her hair, she lovingly selected the jewelry that most fit her mood that day, making sure the crystals on her costume jewelry went with the colors of the chakra that dominated that day.
Solas was a magpie of knowledge, with no formal training she had become a counsel for people looking share the burden of their lives with a stranger. Most often though, Solas would soon become a trusted friend to her clients.
She had read about witches, about shadow work, about different belief systems and she had picked from each what was most interesting or shocking, starting to use it in her day to day.
She had changed her name to match her calling, and over the years she had built a steady group of clients, so much so that, she was quite difficult to book, and usually one would need a firm recommendation from a trusted person.
This is how Paula managed to get her 15:00 pm appointment that rainy Tuesday afternoon.
Paula, a thirty something call center agent, heard one of her colleagues talking of Solas and was intrigued. Paula needed somebody to help her clarify what to do next in her life.
The colleague took some convincing, but in the end gave in to Paula’s blue, teary eyes, to her disheveled appearance, and made the appointment with Solas on her behalf.
‘Maybe you could comb your hair a bit before you go. She likes neat people!’
Paula did as advised. She combed her hair, made sure her clothes were in decent condition, and with her heart in her throat she went to keep the appointment.
Solas lived in a small cottage in Dublin 15, and Paula had been under the impression that the bus ride will never end, and when it did, she did not feel that safe in the small estate with bins parked at all angles and all sorts of debris spread over the green.
She rang the old style door and soon she heard heels walking towards the door.
When Solas opened the door, Paula was a bit startled but did a good job of hiding her honest reaction. The woman facing her was unbelievably thin, with a very long neck, thin long hands, and very long, loose hair hanging down her back, covering more than half her person.
‘Hello!’
Paula’s hand in Solas’ looked like the paw of a little bear. Her hand was squishy with short chubby fingers, almost completely covered by the long, slim ones of the host.
The hallway, the kitchen she briefly glanced over, the living room with large floral armchairs, even the smell, all reminded Paula of her house as a small child. Strange how similar they were, she hadn’t thought about it in the longest time. She didn’t need to, it was all forgotten somewhere in the depths of the Beara Peninsula.
‘Have a seat! I made you some tea.’, Paula was not really a tea drinker, but she did not want to offend her host, so she sipped the fragrant liquid trying to buy herself more time.
As if reading her mind Solas gently nudged her.
‘We have fifty-five minutes, so we best get to work!’
The tea had an almost instant calming effect, and Paula felt her stomach settle and her mind become more focused.
‘Just Chamomile, nothing weird! Tell me how can I support you?’, Solas had sat in front of her and it all had the look of a therapy session, which Paula found quite comforting.
‘It is quite stupid really, like, I am in a great situation and all I can think of is how to run from it … I don’t understand it … it is like I want to blow my life to bits and I do not know why, and I can barely contain myself from doing it …’, a sudden noise upstairs made Paula become quiet.
‘I am so sorry … children!’, Solas got up and walked to the bottom of the stairs. As she was walking away Paula saw, as if in a dream, her clothes change and become a flowery dress covered with an apron, her hair get short and curly, held in place with a tight scarf. She had a full figure now … so different …
‘Paula you come down right this moment!’, that voice!
An incredibly small girl bobbed down the stairs holding a well loved doll …
‘Myrtle …’
When the little girl got closer to the bottom of the stairs, she stopped just out of reach of the clearly crossed woman.
‘Come here! I will not hurt you!’, the voice had a sweet ring to it, but the little girl did not seem fooled, the icy tone lay just beneath the surface.
She could not resist her mother any longer and got closer by slowly descending the remaining steps. As soon as she was within reach, the woman grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close to her face.
‘I told you to be quiet! See, this is why your father doesn’t come home in the evening, he cannot deal with your bothersome self! All you are is trouble! An annoying little girl that nobody will ever love!’
Tears ran quietly down young and old Paula’s cheeks. She had to look away. When she opened her eyes, Solas was standing in front of her with a box of tissues at the ready.
‘We have five more minutes. Anything else you would like to know?’
Paula shook her hear and smiled, a grateful, hopeful smile. Now she knew.
As she got up to leave, she thanked Solas and standing in the doorway she looked up the stairs, and there, she saw little Paula closely hugging Myrle and waving. The hugest, crooked smile beaming on her face.
‘You survived Paula, you built a life for yourself, treasure it and enjoy it, don’t undermine it. You can have a good life, that is ok.’ Nobody had said the words, but somehow they rang true in her mind.
Now Paula could see the green outside was actually littered with toys and the bins had just been collected and were waiting to be put back. The estate now looked quaint and friendly.
Solas closed the door behind her most recent satisfied customer, and stepped out of her high heels.
‘These shoes are killing me! Now … what shall I have for dinner …?’