Страница 9 из 146
As we head out for lunch, Sherry tries to keep the conversation going for both of us to make up for my quiet. She talks in line at the post office, tells me all about her kid while we grab tacos from a street vendor and I chug an energy drink. Sherry continues to yak about the horrors of finding a babysitter as we head back. We stop at a red light and wait to cross the street, tacos steaming up the paper bag I’m holding. I try to pay attention as Sherry goes on and on about her kid, I really do, but I'm so busy straining to hear the nonexistent voice in my head that I almost miss what I'm staring directly at.
There's a neon red palm blinking in the window across the street, with an eye in the center. TAROT. PSYCHIC READINGS.
Oh my god.
Of course.
This makes a ridiculous amount of sense. No one can give me a real answer, so maybe a supernatural answer is what I’m looking for.
I grab Sherry's arm. "How much time do we have before we need to be back?"
She checks her watch. "Half hour, really. Why?"
I shove my taco bag in a nearby garbage can, no longer hungry, and practically drag her across the street—in the wrong direction to get back to the office—when the light turns.
"W-what? What are we doing? Is there a bookstore I missed?" Her laughter dies when she realizes I'm charging for the psychic's doorstep. “Wait! Are you serious? Faith? You want to get your fortune told?" She looks at me as if I just told her I decided to join a nu
"You can go back if you want," I tell her, eyeing the window. There are beaded curtains covering the tinted glass, and the red palm is the only sign on the door. I wonder if I've ever seen this place before. Is it new? Or has it always been here and I've never noticed it despite a hundred lunchtime walks with Sherry? "I won't be long," I tell her and open the door.
If I can't have a logical answer to what's happening, an illogical one will do. Maybe my problem isn’t neurological or chemical but…mystical.
Okay, that sounds corny even to me, but I’m willing to roll with it if it gives me answers.
The shop itself is kind of disappointing. I was expecting mystical runes or lush velvet curtains hanging from the walls. Instead, the walls themselves are covered with bookshelves, and there's a glass counter along one side full of jewelry. The back wall has candles stacked in neat cubbyholes and some of them are set out on stands and lit, providing a thick, herbal smell to the shop. A woman comes from the back room as the door clangs with our entry.
"Hello! Welcome to my shop," she calls out. "How can I help you today?" She looks unimpressive as well—motherly and average, with a dumpy figure and curly, gray-peppered hair. She's wearing leggings and a tunic, much like your average soccer mom would, with a dark scarf artfully tossed around the neck.
"I want to get my fortune told," I say, striding forward before Sherry can silence me. "I have questions."
She goes very still, and her gaze moves up and down over me for a long moment. Her eyes widen, just a little. "Who are you?"
I suck in a breath and step forward, forgetting all about Sherry. She sees something. I know she does. I'm in the right place. I’m so excited I can hardly breathe. “What do you see?"
The woman shakes her head slowly, never taking her eyes off of me. "You have a very…strong energy surrounding you. It's like nothing I've seen before." She moves to the back of her little store and pulls a tapestried curtain aside, gesturing. "I can give you a card reading. Give you some of the answers you seek."
Yes! Answers! I could cry, I'm so relieved. "How much?" I ask, getting out my wallet.
"Oh, come on," Sherry hisses at me, grabbing my arm. "This is crap, Faith. Of course she's going to say you have a strong aura. She wants you to spend money!"
It might be crap…but it might be answers. I shake my head at Sherry. "You can go back. I'll be there soon, I promise."
Sherry's lips tighten in a thin line and she crosses her arms over her chest, but she doesn't leave.
I give her a smile to reassure her, then follow the woman into the back room. Sherry follows at my heels, and the woman drops the curtain behind us. "Have a seat."
The room isn't much to look at. There are folding chairs—two on my side of the table, and one on hers. The table itself is covered in purple crushed velvet, and I bet if I peeked underneath the garish tablecloth, I'd see it's a folding table. Adorning the walls are a few posters of psychic-looking women and stars and planets and such. Crystals hang from strings on the ceiling. I don't know what to make of this. It looks more like the cheap carnival fortune teller than the last room did.
But she sees something in me. On me. Whatever. And I'm so desperate for answers.
"A hundred dollars," she tells me, sitting across from me at the table. "Cash. No credit cards, no checks."
"This is crap," Sherry murmurs in a singsong voice as she sits down next to me.
Maybe it is. Maybe this woman's taken one look at my skirt and low heels, my white blouse and my blonde ponytail and decided that I have money to spend. I mean, she’s completely wrong about that, but I guess I could see the mistake, seeing as how we’re in the business district downtown. Lots of corporate business professionals around here.
Doesn’t matter. I'm willing to blow some stupid cash if I can get answers. I pull five twenties out of my purse and hand them over.
She takes them from me, careful not to touch my fingers. Odd.
"Put your purse away," the fortune teller says to me as she picks up a small wooden box and sets it on the table in front of her. She pulls the lid off with both hands and reveals a deck of long-looking cards. Tarot cards. There’s a spiderweb design over the back of each of them. "I'm not going to give you a typical reading. You need something different than mumbo-jumbo and a few platitudes, don't you?"
I nod, wide-eyed. It’s like she’s reading my mind. ”How do you know?"
She wiggles her fingers in the air before pulling the cards out of the box and setting the stack on the table. "I see it around you. There's something that's different about you than your friend. Like I said, I've never seen it before. It’s like an aura. No, not an aura.” She frowns. “It’s like you’ve walked through a spiderweb of some kind and you’re covered in the residue.” She wags a finger in my direction. “I’ve never seen that before, which tells me that there's a story behind it."
"Everyone has a story," Sherry says, her tone almost sulky. I think she doesn’t like being called normal.
“Everyone does,” the fortune teller agrees. "But not everyone has energy pulsing around them like your friend."
I feel a little quiver of anxiety at that. Sherry can have my weird spiderweb energy if it makes her feel special. I don’t want it. I just want to sleep.
The woman gestures at the cards. "Take them and shuffle them as much as you feel is necessary."
I grip the cards and study them. They feel a little waxy but well-used, and the spiderweb on the back of each card seems to gleam as if shiny. I shuffle the cards lightly, flicking them a couple of times before cutting twice and then offering them back to her.
She taps a spot on the table, and I put the stack of cards there. "What's your first question?" she asks, watching me with intent eyes.
I think. I have so many but there's one that keeps rising to mind over and over again. "Who is it I heard? The strange man?"
The fortune teller nods slowly. I can see Sherry staring at me, but I ignore her. I have to, because if I feel silly, I'm going to get up and leave and I need to know what this woman sees. I keep my gaze on the fortune teller and watch as she carefully picks up the first card from the deck and sets it down on the table.
It's a dark-haired man on a throne.
"The King of Pentacles," she says, looking thoughtful. "That's a strong, assertive man. One of power and ambition. He's someone that stops everyone in their tracks when they see him. He's…" She thinks for a moment. "He's like a force of nature. Takes over everything in his path."
I blink, staring at the card. It's a man. What she says matches the voice I keep hearing but…I still don't know who it is.
"Are you dating someone?" Sherry asks, amused. “And you didn’t tell me about it? You hooker.”
I shake my head. There’s no one.
"Be silent," the fortune teller hisses at Sherry. "This is not about you."
My friend gasps and shrinks back.
Well, crap. I give Sherry an apologetic look and then turn back to the fortune teller. "I don't…I don't know this man. There's no guy in my life like this."
The woman tilts her head. "Are you asking who he is to you?" At my nod, she turns over another card. "The Lovers."
The card has two people standing apart, a man and a woman. They're both naked. I can pretty much guess what this is about. “You sure this is my fortune?”
"If he's not a lover, he will be soon," the psychic murmurs, ignoring my question. “The cards don’t lie.”
"But…how? I don't understand." It can't be someone at work, and I don't do much outside of work. Especially not lately. "Where am I going to meet this guy? I keep going to his apartment and there’s no one there. There’s never anyone there."
The fortune teller turns over another card. It's a woman, floating in midair, with a green wreath around her. "The World, reversed."
"What does that mean?"
She puts a finger to her chin, thinking. "When The World is right side up, it means that a journey of knowledge is coming to an end. The circle is being completed." She traces her finger around the wreath on the card. "But for you, the journey is just about to begin."