Trapped in the Mayan Tattoo by Ronda Pauley Page B

look for me. I think I
could use the disguise!”

 
     
SIXTEEN
     
    So much had been
happening lately. Louise was trying unsuccessfully to call her father and let
him know about the break-in at Abbi’s house.
    Abbi chose a big
comfortable overstuffed chair and sat down, letting memories wash over her. The
last time Abbi talked to her mother played repeatedly in her mind and filled
her with regret. Words and actions that she had tried hard to forget were no
longer blocked out of her memory. She remembered them now with shame.
                “A life, if not in service
to others, serves no one,”her mother had said the day she and Abbi’s
father left on their last ‘business trip’. Her mother had looked so noble and
mysterious when she said it--hair pinned back in a French roll, dark-rimmed
glasses on her chiseled porcelain-like nose. She always wore just the right
touch of lipstick and shadow. Putting on the trenchcoat added to the total mysterious
effect.
                “Yeah? Well, that’s
bull!” Abbi had said, spitting the words at her mother.
    Her mother
actually stepped back when Abbi threw the tired dialog about shoes back in her
mother’s face.
    “Who are you doing
this for?” Abbi asked. “Who cares that much about shoes or boots anyway? Not
ME! Who benefits from your so-called service to others? NOT ME! Tell me, how is
selling shoes and boots such a noble service to others? Can’t we just talk
straight up? Fred’s Boots Incorporated?  For Heaven’s sake, come on! I’m not a
baby!”
    Shame and
humiliation swept over her now as she remembered the look on her mother’s face.
What was her mother involved in? And why couldn’t she say?
    Abbi’s mother had
left the room in tears and her father intervened. With camera in hand, he
called Abbi into his study. He spoke to Abbi quietly, metaphorically.
    “See these lenses?”
he had said. “They can pull in things you want to see as well as things you
don’t want to see.  Sometimes you pull in the focus, and you catch something
and then, suddenly, you’re compelled to look deep even when you want to look
away. Pull in the focus, Abbi. Look. We can’t do it for you. You’ll see when
you’re ready.”
    “I’m trying, Dad!”
    “You look but you
don’t see,” he had said. 
    Then he had pointed
the camera at the leaves on the tree outside the living room window and moved
aside so Abbi could see. As she zoomed the lens and adjusted the focus, she
could see a bird’s nest that she didn’t know was there. A spider’s web fresh
with dewdrops loomed just above it.
    “Did you know
there was a bird’s nest there?” she asked. “And look at that web! It’s
beautiful, like pearls on a string!”
    “Ah! You’ve had
one of life’s happy moments! Serendipity! But always remember, things are
rarely as they appear to be. It’s in studying patterns, analyzing, that you really
begin to see. You recognized the leaves by knowing their pattern, and you were
able to identify other things that didn’t fit that pattern. Your mind’s eye did
that for you. It can alert you to happy little surprises as well as danger.
Watch for what doesn’t fit. You never really know the heart of a person until
you pull the person into focus. Zoom and focus. But, and this is critical, before
you decide to do that, be certain you can live with the truth. Otherwise,
embrace the unfocused illusion.”
    Her anger with her
mother was based on things her mother refused to discuss. Maybe Abbi hadn’t seen
the clear picture because her mother, not Abbi, held the lens. Her mother, not
Abbi, had controlled how much Abbi was permitted to see.
    Now Abbi realized
that she was ready to take the risk, to seize the high-powered lens and look
closely at both her mother, the girl, and the woman who referred to herself as
her “grandmother”.
                “Louise, do you still
have that woman’s contact information?” she