“Crucifix.”

Sally held up the cross of cheap pressed wood and cocked an eyebrow.

“Nothin’,” smiled Lavinia.

She reached out, snatched it from Sally’s reluctant hand, pressed it against her forehead and even put it in her mouth, twiddling it like a Groucho Marx cigar. “Nothin’ at all.”

“Okay, scratch crucifixes.” Sally wiped it off with an embarrassed glance at the shop owner who quietly ate roasted vegetables behind the counter.

She was Jesse and Walter’s white-haired rainbow hippy neighbor and apparently her name really was Jessica Rainbow. Her store was called Rainbow’s Curio Shoppe. It was the day before Sally’s devastating encounter with KerriAnne and she and Lavinia were taking some playful down time.

Sally picked up a Star of David. “Mogen David,” she said with a wry gleam; Lavinia had once called her a “helpless goy” for not knowing what that meant. She held it out of Lavinia’s reach.

“Good memory, you. You’re still a helpless goy. Mmm. Gimme here.”

Sally reluctantly passed it to her (her heart had skipped when Lavinia grabbed the crucifix).

Lavinia turned it over and over. It was made of gleaming metal in the blue and white of Israel. Shyly, she pressed it to her heart then kissed it with an I dare you to say something glare.

Sally did her best to radiate loving acceptance and Lavinia explained, “I felt this gush of love for it that I ain’t felt since, jeez, ever. I hated synagogue when I was a kid, seemed like it would never end. And Israel ain’t exactly my favorite country in the world. Anyway, didn’t burn me or anything.”

Sally set the star thoughtfully back down. Rummaging through the bargain bin she found a square of cloth with a green star and crescent. “How about Islam?” she said.

“Ha, here’s where I know something you don’t, big brain,” Lavinia laughed. “That’s really more a symbol of the Ottoman Empire than a symbol of Islam. But anyway. Totally neutral. Anything else in there?”

That was when Sally saw the pentagram. Hand-carved out of deeply golden wood, decorated with arrows and little people, it looked too beautiful to be in the bargain bin.

It felt powerfully right in her hand. She looked tensely at Lavinia, half afraid it would push her away.

Lavinia watched her curiously. “I don’t feel nothin’. But looks like you sure do.”

Sally turned the object over with tingling hands. There was another pentagram in the bin which she admired more: a silver outline with teardrops of colored glass filling in the five points. It was pretty but it was just neutral. The wooden one: zing!

She brought it to the counter. Jessica Rainbow smiled. She wore the wool cap she always wore, with its soft cloud of shimmering colors. She smelled of salt and her loose skin hinted that she had lost a lot of weight at some point.

“Sister, I grokked that that was for you,” she said in her deep, husky voice. “Totally cool.”

“What do you mean?” Sally was weary of everything having portent, but it was impossible to be annoyed with the snow-haired radiant old hippie.

“Oh dear, what do I mean?” She popped a piece of rosemary-crusted zucchini into her mouth. “When it came in, it had a totally good vibe, like right away. I put it with all the wicca things, right next to a nice athame and wand, but it just didn’t groove with them. I forget where I wound up putting it but, dear heart, you radiate the same energy it does.”

“It was in the bargain bin with a bunch of other religious things.” Sally had no idea what an athame was.

“Weird, man, totally. I didn’t know I had a stash of religious shit in one place. One of the ghosts arranged it, I guess.”

“Ghosts?”

“Oh, you know, the vampires. I’ve taken to letting those silent wraiths move around among the chawch-keys.” (That was how she pronounced the Yiddish word tchatchkas. Sally flicked a glance at Lavinia’s bland face and could almost hear the words “helpless goy.”)

As she rang it up, Jessica continued, “So, they’re playing with religious symbols. Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice would say, hmmm?”

I’m being guided to take this damn thing with me to Germany, Sally thought resentfully. She put it in her pocket with elaborate casualness. If she was meant to take it, she’d remember to take it, she decided. Otherwise, she’d be perfectly happy to leave it behind.

Jessica smiled her radiant smile and held out a clove of roasted garlic. “Want a bite?”

Lavinia took the garlic, sniffed it, then grinned at Sally. “Nothin’.”