wind announcing Uranus' arrival stormed through the café,
knocking over chairs and tables. A tablecloth whipped
across the floor. Neptune's hair and gown swept around her
in lovely disarray, reminding me of a Marilyn Monroe movie
I'd seen once. Coasters and swizzle sticks and cocktail
napkins flew around us, and I couldn't help but
giggle—okay, maybe because I was a bit nervous. This
wasn't a Marilyn Monroe movie—it was the Wizard of Oz.
Venus hid behind Jupiter, her tiny, well-manicured hands
wrapped around his substantial waist. The Big Guy grinned
and shook his head. "Jeez. I thought I was big on
grand entrances. Check this out."
lights flickered twice, then went out. A second later,
they came on again, much brighter than they'd been to
start with—and they were buzzing. Mercury skated back
and forth across the dance-floor, basically pacing on his
in-line skates. Another burst of wind blew the slender
fellow in our direction, and as he whizzed by, he called
out, "Talk about wired, huh? This guy really gets me
everything stopped—except that electric buzzing sound.
Even Mercury stood still as Uranus came through the door.
His eyes were the wildest shade of blue I'd ever seen,
encircled by thick, bushy, Andy Rooney-ish eyebrows—and
there were icicles hanging from the corners of those
brows. His hair—at least, I think it was hair—was
nearly down to his waist. It was platinum—no, silver. Or
white. Whatever it was, there was no doubt that it, too,
was pretty darned wild. It continued to whip around his
face—even though the wind had stopped. I thought of
Merlin, King Arthur's wizard, and realized that only
Uranus could have been the inspiration behind that ancient
character. This wizard, however, wasn't done up in a gown
with stars and moons on it. He wore a long, white robe,
and as he approached us, I heard it crackle and crunch. It
reminded me of a sheet that had been hung out on a
clothesline for too long in February.
the first time that evening, I realized I was
frightened—this was no laughing Uncle Jupiter, after
all—but I was also excited. I'm the proud owner of both
the Moon and the Ascendant in Aquarius, Uranus' favorite
sign, so I've always enjoyed his unpredictability. It sure
beats a lecture from Saturn, in my humble opinion. And when Uranus appeared in the Cosmic Cafe, the only thing I was sure of was that there
was no telling what this guy would do next.
was right. He walked straight up to me, stood directly in
front of me, and stared into my eyes.
reached for Jupiter's arm and held on tight. "What?
Go where? Are we going somewhere?"
squeezed my hand, and winked reassuringly. "Go ahead,
honey. It might be fun."
wasn't sure about the fun part, but I stood up anyway.
Never let it be said that a Sag with the Moon and the
Ascendant in Aquarius ever said no to a brand new
experience—no matter how frightening. "Okay. Let's
go." Uranus turned—abruptly, of course—and seemed
to glide toward the door. I glanced back at Jupiter, who
winked again, and said, "We'll wait here for you. Go
followed Uranus out onto the sidewalk—but there wasn't
any sidewalk. The night sky had turned into a rainbow of
colors—kind of like a cosmic version of northern lights.
My car was gone—in fact, the whole block was gone.
Uranus touched my arm, and a shiver went up my spine. He
was so cold. He pointed down at our feet, and I saw that
we were standing on a rug—a bright purple rug, that
shimmered and moved like waves on water.
the carpet lifted up, and we were airbourne. I searched
for something to hold on to, found nothing, then decided
to go with it. I wasn't frightened anymore—I was
downright terrified. And excited. This, apparently, was a
Uranus transit—and I knew enough about this planet to be
sure that resistance was, well…futile. I took a deep
breath, closed my eyes for just a second, and resolved to
enjoy the ride.