My appointment with Lauren is at 4:41. I’m sure this has a deeper meaning, like the $66.66 I’ve been charged in advance. Another mystery: Lauren’s not answering her door. I re-check the address. On the porch are decorative butterflies, plastic mushroom lights and dry cat food. A sign says “WITCHES GATHER HERE.” A black cat naps under a tree. I think I’m in the right place.
But where’s the witch?
After more texts and straight-to-voicemails (shocker, it’s full), I accept that this isn’t happening. This visit with a local medium was supposed to be the start of a personal mission to talk to my dead friends, who are legion at this point in my late forties and whose absence defines me more than I’d be comfortable admitting most days.
Thanks to a certain TV show, there’s been a surge of interest lately in a specific deceased friend of mine who was talented, hilarious, intelligent, influential, and complicated (to say the least). But the truth is, that friend is just one of many—all Tulsans who made an impact creating or supporting art—who are worthy of tribute. I thought I’d try to lead as many mediums as it took to as many of these unsung people as possible. I could hear from my friends again, and I could tell other people about them and their impact, too.
But things don’t always work out like that: best laid plans and all. The Spirit realm has its own agenda, not to mention a paywall. That being said, mediumship sessions are cheaper than my last therapist, and seem to produce better results. With the exception of Lauren, that is.
I call the intrepid Kathryn Parkman to see if she’ll go to east Tulsa’s Botánica with me instead. I found this place by Googling “Santería near me.” I was raised Catholic but later became curious about religions like Santería and Hoodoo that melded their beliefs to Catholicism to preserve Indigenous traditions. In those religions, saints (adapted polytheistic gods) dispense favors, protection, or blessings in return for tangible gifts like whiskey, money, or cigars. Ceremony is the key. I want to do as many ceremonies as possible, but I’m on a budget and Miss no-show Lauren just cost me $66.66.