Anais Lassiter had lived within the Big Easy most of her life and loved the diversity of the city that accepted people for whoever they were. New Orleans was a mixing pot of cultures, religions beliefs, and lifestyles from everywhere. It had always been a city that catered to the best in life from divine art to pleasures of the flesh.
Most natives would say that "you either love New Orleans or hate it but there is no in-between."
Anais was a collector of art that had no definite theme or style. She bought good art and cheap art as long as it appealed to her. Her small apartment in the Fabourg-Marigny reflected the erratic flow of her "hobby". She was a woman of late middle years, widowed and a grandmother but now lived alone. Her husband of thirty years had recently passed on, leaving her with enough insurance to open a small occult shop in the Quarter and their home on Lakeside Drive which she sold much to her two children's dismay. She had seen no reason to keep the rambling four bedroom house but liked the compactness and convenience of the Marigny apartment for her business. A self-declared White Witch, she lived life on her own terms now. Her shop "The Red Candle" was doing very well and she had found many good sales staff in the Quarter's growing population of New Age/Pop Culture youth. They also made up the majority of her clientele. Anais had finally come full circle with the rewards of her life and still young enough to enjoy it. Then only thing she had not experienced was "love".
Her marriage to her husband, Dirk had been a friendly one and comfortable. There had never been a passionate relationship them between but a caring one.
Dirk being Catholic did not believe in divorce so he and Anais had come to the understanding that he would satisfy his passion for work and she could pursue her love of books, art and classic music as well as raise the children. Dirk owned three mechanic shops and had provided a good living for them. Upon on his death of a heart attack, she had discovered that he had a long time relationship with another woman who was his mistress. She did not really feel betrayed but sad that they both might have missed having more. She had signed over her active status in the shops to her sons and with the stipend from that and the insurance, she had come out of the closet with her Wiccan beliefs and bought the building on Iberville and renovated it to become "The Red Candle".
With Starr as the manager of the shop, Anais was able to have considerable freedom and so she often spent her afternoons exploring the odd shops in the Quarter looking for unique things to add to her "collection". She had heard through the grapevine that this new shop had opened recently so intrigued she decided to check it out.
The Different Junque Shoppe was not obtrusive or even well defined as to its nature. Just a small sign hanging from the portico with its name and the odd little motto "Where dreams are found." This casualness excited Anais and she found herself eagerly stepping in the shadowy interior of the place.
The shop smelled of incense and mustiness and age as did all the old buildings in the Quarter. It added to its charm. The myriad of shelves and racks were a huge collage of ac*****ulated junk and paraphernalia. Anything that one could possibly desire that would be different or strange could almost be found within the walls of the Different Junque Shoppe.
Anais closed the door softly as the little bell tinkled merrily, announcing her entrance. She almost wished that it hadn't so that she could browse undisturbed. She had no idea what she was looking for but she knew from past experience that she would find it when she came to it. Had not that been the way when she found the Houma Dance Stick at the Pow Wow. Tents upon tents of Native American art and crafts as well as jewelry and weapons but she found nothing that she had wanted until she found the dance stick. She knew it would be the same here.
As she began to move down the aisles, she noticed that there was no salesperson hovering near her. Yet, she found that it did not surprise her. The shop was not a place of haste or rush but quiet selection and unique desires. As she reached the end of the middle aisle, she came face to face with the back wall of the shop. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes glued to the wall.
A tapestry of indeterminable age hung in the shadows on the wall. A pale light reflected on its weaving and the scene within. Anais stepped closer to view the contents of the tapestry. It depicted a large room, with a wide stone ledge window. Seated in the window was a young woman, dressed in a long flowing gown of many years gone by. Her black, ebony hair hung in loose waves about her shoulders. She had a serene but rapturous expression on her face.
She was not the only human in the picture but there was a young man kneeling in front of her on one knee with his hand held out as if to capture on her tiny ones. He too wore a blissful expression and his blue eyes were filled with adoration. It had all the air of a proposal. A question ask but no answer given nor would there ever be as these two lovers were caught in timelessness and forever poised in a moment of joy unfulfilled. Something of the loving looks of the couple tugged at Anais' heart and she felt a sense of wonder, interspersed with sorrow.
"They are quite beautiful, don't you think?" a voice spoke softly behind her and Anais started out of her transfixed state. She turned quickly to see who had spoken.
The person that met Anais' sight was a tall, middle-aged man, somberly-dressed and softly spoken. He had well-groomed blond hair and startlingly blue eyes, a face that she thought she had seen somewhere before, kind, gentle, and inner-reflective. She found her voice within a few seconds and answered, "Yes, it is a beautiful tapestry. Is it for sale?"
Smiling benignly, he said "No, we lend it out."
Anais stared at him in confusion and surprise. "You lend it out?" she repeated.
"Yes, we lend it out to those who need it." the man stated, his tone very matter-of-fact.
"Why in the world would anyone want to borrow a tapestry and not buy it so they could keep it permanently?" she questioned, her perplexed air obvious.
"Madame, this tapestry is special, very special. It cannot be owned by just one person. It has to be shared among many." the proprietor of the shop explained.
Anais suddenly took a wary attitude as she felt something of a snow job about the tapestry's priceless worth and antique value coming on. She *****ed one eyebrow and with almost a knowing smirk, she said, "Please tell me why."
The man stared at her with a look of amused tolerance that he might have given a willful child and said, once again softly. "Because it is magical."
Anais heard herself make a "guffaw" of disbelieving laughter and instantly felt contrite from the wounded look on the man's face. She had hurt his feelings without meaning to. Yet, she had to ask herself, did he really expect her to believe that the tapestry was magical. She may be a Wiccan Witch but she believed that things only occurred through the forces of Nature and one's will, and not enchantment. However, he seemed to so sincerely believe it that she ask with a kinder tone. "If it is magical, then what does it do?"
He beamed as he replied, "It grants wishes for true love!"
It took a few moments to recover before she could speak. The whole idea of the magic was too fantastic. Even if it were true, it could not possibly be for her as too many years had passed and she was too old to find true love anymore. She let out a beleaguered sigh and shook her head slowly as she said. "It really would be nice if it could do such a thing but even if it could, it is too late for me. I am in my fifties and a grandmother."
The proprietor laughed and said "True love knows no age boundaries. If you are drawn to the tapestry, it means that you have never found your true love. It can grant your wish if you so desire."
Anais thought about what he had said. She thought about Dirk and how she had always felt that something was missing between them. Perhaps she had not been his true love either...maybe it had been Jena, his mistress of many years. At Dirk's funeral, she had seen Jena sitting in the back, alone and obviously heart-broken. Her grief and heartache had seemed deeper and more genuine than her own. When the well-wishers had come around to offer their condolences to her, she had almost wanted to direct them to the forlorn figure that hovered near the casket during the wake, her bereavement so intense that Anais wanted to put her arms around her to comfort her. She had wondered why Dirk had not cast aside his iron clad belief and divorced her and married Jena so that they might have it a closer relationship. It had seemed a shame and now, it was too late.
"No, not always, my dear. Your late husband knew the happiness of true love despite that he did not marry her. He wished upon this tapestry many years ago. He and his love were happy for what time they had. They will find each other in the next lifetime." the man said gently as if he had been able to read her thoughts. She was aghast!
"How could he have wished on the tapestry? He died almost two years ago and you just opened here." She demanded.
"He met us many years ago when he was in San Francisco on a business trip. We had a shop there then." the man answered. The "we" slipped right past her as she was still reeling from how much he knew about herself and her late husband. She knew this man had no way of knowing about that business trip or the fact that Dirk had met and taken up with Jena very shortly after that.
The proprietor studied her for a long moment and then said ever so sweetly. "Make your wish, my dear lady, and then perhaps maybe you will find something else of interest to you in our rather unique shop." He then turned on his heel and left her.
Anais found herself turning back to stare at the tapestry and its lovers. "What can a wish hurt?" she thought silently to herself. So closing her eyes and focusing with her heart, she made her wish to find her true love. A serene calmness filled her and for some unexplainable reason, she knew her wish had been heard.
As she turned to return to the front of the store, she passed a shelf where she spied a flawless crystal ball on an orante stand made of winged unicorns. She was instantly drawn to it. Uncaring of the price, she carried the ball to the counter and then she met the second half of the "we". A slender middle-aged woman with long cascading raven tresses stood waiting to help her with her purchase. Again, Anais felt the sudden feeling she had seen this woman before.
As if a bolt of lightning had hit her, she realized where she had seen them before. They were an older version of the lovers in the Dream Tapestry.
Staring into Anais' startled eyes, the lovely woman smiled as she handed Anais back the carefully wrapped crystal ball. She said in a voice, sounding as wind chimes, "Yes, you are right. It is my love and I in the tapestry. Love is eternal, you know."
Then after a short pause, she continued, "Oh, be sure to be at your shop in three days as your true love will arrive and he will meet you there."
***
The Dream Tapestry (the poem)
It hangs on a wall, hidden in shadows,
A tapestry of indeterminable age.
Woven with intricate detail
Of two lovers in a wooing stage.
Her poised on a fragile chair,
Wearing a lace and sequin gown,
Tumbling raven tresses, an angelic face,
Beauty divine abounds.
He upon a knee, with his hand out,
A look of adoration with his eyes,
Poised in declaration,
Of the love his heart no longer denies.
A scene of decades long gone,
Of lovers frozen in place.
One moment of ecstasy that is
Lost in timeless space.
They call it the Dream Tapestry,
A covering of magic repute,
If love is denied to one,
This tapestry is said to dispute
All boundaries of logic and sense
And grants destiny "loves" a chance.
Love is woven into each fiber
By a thread of eternal hope and care
That for all who seek,
The perfect love that is out there.
The Dream Tapestry is not for sale
Though generous offers and pleas have been bid.
The owner will not sell
But leaves its magic unhidden.
Want a real, forever love?
Then wish upon these lovers waiting in time.
What they cannot have themselves
Perhaps then could be yours or mine.
