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rear view mirror. When it stopped, it made a loud bang which drew the attention of the security guards . I walked over to the car and quietly suggested to Rufus that he slip the guards each a twenty dollar bill to avoid any trouble . Felix and Rufus then set up their tables and chairs a few spots from mine , and I handed over another hundred to secure each of their spots. I could have suggested to either Rufus or Felix that they make the payoff to the guard s but their bickering drew enough attention that I thought any interaction with a guard was a potential for disaster.
    Throughout the day, passerby’s and the other mystics and peddlers chuckled at my service as they walked by or muttered, “That’s a new one.” But then I secured a customer , followed by another and another. By late morning , I had encountered a surprisingly steady flow of business – more than in any other city I’d worked. There were a few slow times when I simply picked up a book I’d bought on the city’s history , and conversely , during rushes I focused on efficiency in my “order-taking”.
    Everything seemed to be going fine until about midday ; that was when the strange feeling returned .
    A petite, giggling college student had just sat down when I sense d it. The hairs on the back of my neck sprang to life, pulling and twisting in an erratic pattern.
    “Hi,” said the girl in a squeaky voice. She tossed her blonde hair back over her shoulder and gave me a toothy smile.
    “Hi,” I replied absentmindedly , focused on my neck.
    “So, can you really deliver messages to the dead ?” asked the girl , skeptically.
    “Yes, yes I can,” I said, drawing up a hand and rubbing at the skin below my hairline . It helped calm the reaction I was having but I still felt the goose bumps below my fingertips.
    I saw her friends roll their eyes and sneer at me as they stood a few feet away, watching.
    Just as I was turning my attention back to their friend in my customer’s chair, I caught sight of him.
    A motorcycle had stopped and the driver had twisted his head over his shoulder, staring back in my direction. But this time it wasn’t the creepy guy who had watched me from the shadows yesterday and assumedly attempted to run me over. This one looked like someone out of a spy movie. He was hunched over a sport bike, dressed in all black leather with yellow stripes, a shiny black and yellow matching helmet, and a necklace dangling from around his neck. It was gold and a name had been soldered into the end but he was too far away for me to read it.
    Through the clear visor I could easily see his face and it had the same intense, heated expression as the creepy guy from the day before.
    My hands clasped in my lap began to sweat and I could feel my heart beginning to beat quicker.
    “Excuse me…Excuse me!” The college girl leaned into my view. “Are you going to take my money or what?”
    I paused to catch my breath, which seemed to have left me, before answering. “No…no. I don’t take the money until you receive proof that your message has been delivered.”
    She blinked uncertainly at me and then leaned back to shove her money back in her pocket, clearing my view. “Why not?”
    He was still there. Still staring.
    “Um…because others in my line of work have given us a bad reputation. So I don’t ask for payment until I provide proof the job is done.”
    She paused for a moment. “Oh.”
    I could sense she was getting irritated by my lack of attention to her. Realizing I was being rude and only slightly caring, I decided that I couldn’t stop him from staring, so I would just let him.
    “So, what would you like to say and to whom would you like to send it?” I asked, making my mind up to ignore him . This was especially challenging considering he made me feel panicked in the same way I had with the guy from yesterday.
    The girl beamed at me and then wiggled in her seat as if she were getting herself ready for a big surprise. “I