Mercury  spun around backward and finished up his rather grand entrance with a flourish—a double-reverse turn, followed by an absolutely perfect landing. I was so delighted with this slender, quick-moving figure that I actually had to applaud. Jupiter grinned widely and joined me. Mercury—who looked an awful lot like Barry Manilow—bowed, smiled, and then skated toward me—all in a matter of seconds.

I wasn't surprised that he moved as fast as he did. I remember breaking a thermometer once as a child and watching, fascinated, as the shiny beads rolled, bounced, bumped into one another, then magically merged. It was amazing. When all the beads were collected, they didn’t come back alone. There was dust, fur, and crumbs in the pile—and anything else the Mercury had touched. In short, the element itself was as much a magnet for information—a "gatherer" of data—as the planet. Which brings me to Mercury's mythological history.

Back when Gods ruled the universe, Mercury was their messenger, the information shuttle between the “Immortals" and the humans. His job description hasn't changed much over the years, either. He's still in charge of dispensing information. He's the "switchboard" inside each of us that's responsible for everything we're aware of. Light, sounds, temperature, textures, scents. In short, anything that's delivered to us via the five senses falls under Mercury's jurisdiction—and he was showing all his talents off, in person, right there at the Cosmic Café.

Needless to say, then, I also wasn't surprised (well, not much) when he pulled the cell-phone from his belt and handed it to me with a great, big grin. "It's for you," he said, as he turned to skate backward through the door, bowing. He disappeared into the night with a wave, as I held the phone in my hand, too dumbfounded to speak. "Is he going to come back?" I asked Jupiter.

"Oh, yeah," Jupiter said. "He pops in and out all the time. Back and forth, up and down the street, jumpin' and skatin' around. I don't know where the guy gets his energy—he never sleeps." He shrugged his shoulders, then pointed to the phone in my hand. "So…Are you gonna answer it?"

I laughed. "Oh, yeah, right. Hello?"

A voice from the past answered me. "Kim? Is that you?"

Yes, Mercury was definitely retrograde. It was my highschool sweetheart, Ray, who I hadn't seen or spoken with in roughly 25 years. Still, I would have known his voice anywhere. My mind flooded with tender memories, and I smiled. "It's me, all right. How did you find me?"

My first love laughed softly. "It's a long story. But can we get together and talk?"

I blushed—and then realized this was a joint venture. I glanced over at Venus, standing just behind Jupiter. She winked at me, and I understood. She, too, was retrograde—which meant that, like Mercury, she was currently in a period of "review." And it just so happened that she was traveling through my Seventh House at the moment, the place where we handle the issue of committed relationships. It made sense, then, that her path through this house—backward—would bring back an old love. "Um…sure. Sure, " I managed to say. "Where? When?"

As I fumbled in my purse for a pen, Mercury flew back into the Café, backward, of course. He skated over to me, and handed me a long red feather with a bell tied to it.

"Here ya go, Girlfriend," he said. I took the feather from him, and realized it was an antique quill pen—quite the appropriate writing tool to receive from Mercury while he was traveling backward.

"Cute," I said. "Nice touch." He gave me the thumbs-up signal and skated onto the dance floor, pulling Venus along with him. She giggled in delight as I hurriedly scribbled Ray's phone number on a cocktail napkin. "I'll call you back later tonight," I promised, then said goodbye.

Be sure to tune in next week!