Stela nodded. “Very well. It is likely she will do just that.”
After a few more minutes Martin popped his head through the front of the tent with a huge smile on his face.
“So?” Adam asked. “How did it go?”
Martin climbed out the rest of the way and beamed as he answered. “Real good.” He patted Adam on the back. “According to Madame Endora, I’ve got right much to look forward to. Worth every bit of money I paid.” And he whispered, “And I don’t see Hardy Greene. Has he gone?”
Adam shrugged. “I reckon. I haven’t seen him since before you went in.”
“Good,” said Martin. He stepped out of the tent the rest of the way. “Your turn.”
Adam held the two stones tightly in his hand and nodded at his friend as he stepped forward to enter the tent.
“COME IN, YOUNG MAN,” SAID a woman’s voice.
Adam only had his head sticking into the opening of the tent, hesitant to go any further until invited—and this was his invitation.
No turning back now, he thought. I can’t believe I let myself get roped into this.
He could see a faint silhouette of a woman behind panels of dark, gauzy fabric. She was motioning to him to come further into the tent. He reached out in front of him and fumbled around to figure out where the opening in the curtain was. When he finally made his way beyond it, he was taken aback by the ambience that awaited him.
The tent smelled of sweet incense. The woman waiting for him was mostly cloaked in shadow. Only a narrow part of her face, chest, and hands could be seen by the glow of the stubby candle that burned in front of her. Adam figured it was all a bit extravagant—the lengths this woman was going to in order to create the feeling of mystery and mysticism. Ordinary people would just have some decent lanterns in here, he thought. But with that candle, not much was visible except the small area illuminated by the candle’s light.
He saw her hold out her hand palm up, offering that he take a seat across the table from her. When he sat down, she pushed the candle forward so that it would be positioned between the two of them.
“Give me the stones,” she said.
Adam immediately wondered how she knew he had more than one. He opened his palm and looked at the crystal and the turquoise, and then he placed them on the table near the candle.
She reached out two long fingers and pulled one in front of her, then the other. She slid her hand further down the table and then pulled over two more candles. She proceeded to light them with the first and then put them in glass lanterns.
Adam was now able to see the tools of her trade spread out before them on the table. She had a crystal ball, tarot cards, dice, an ancient-looking book, probably filled with some sort of strange incantations, and a few different stones.
“What shall I tell you this night?” she asked him in a much thicker version of the same mysterious accent her daughter had.
“I have no idea,” said Adam. “Your daughter said you would gaze into your crystal ball and tell me my future.”
“Yes, of course, but is there anything you wish to know?”
I’m not giving her any information, he thought. She’s going to have to work with a blank slate. Let’s see how well she does with that. He felt a smug sense of satisfaction that he was outsmarting this so-called seer.
“You just tell me whatever it is you see there in that crystal.”
She held the stones in her hand, and she twirled the turquoise back and forth between her fingers before placing them both down on the table in front of her. She then moved the shortest candle directly behind the crystal ball, as it was in relation to her, placing the candle between the ball and Adam. She closed her eyes and held her hands over the ball, which was much smaller than Adam would have expected, as she began to chant some words that he did not understand. After a moment she opened her eyes and slowly moved her hands over the ball, staring deeply into it.
“I see someone from far away, but this person is no more.”
Is she talking about my father? he wondered. No, how would she know about him?
“I see someone with dark features, like you,” she said, smiling at him.
“Is it a man or a woman?” asked Adam.
“Does your mother live near here?” she asked him.
Adam nodded. “Yes, she does.”
He felt very unsettled and regretted his decision to come into this woman’s tent.
“Hmm…” Madame Endora gazed more deeply into the sphere. “I thought so. This is a man I see. He is from afar.”
She must be talking about my father, thought Adam.
“Are you saying this has something to do with my future?”
“Ah, young man, your past is the key to your future. And I see much darkness here—hidden darkness.”
Adam didn’t like where this was going. He wanted to get up and leave, but for some reason he felt compelled to stay and hear what she would tell him.
“What are you talking about? What darkness?”
“You have a fear, do you not?” she asked him.
Adam wouldn’t answer. He could not truthfully say no, but he also didn’t want to say yes, because after all, didn’t everyone have some sort of fear?
She looked at him and studied his face. “Yes, you do have a fear. One you do not want to say out loud—at least not to me.”
This is too much, thought Adam.
“This secret thing from your past that has followed you—it will follow you still, until the very end. It is like a wraith, chasing you always.”
“You’re telling me you see all this in that ball?”
“The visions in the crystal are but shadows. They are clouded, not clear. I can only tell you that you can look for signs and perhaps they can help you choose the right path.”
“And where will the right path take me?”
“Where does the right path take any of us? To luck, to happiness, to love, and good fortune. But if you have angered the Fates, if they are conspiring against you, you are in danger.”
Adam gave an uneasy chuckle. This was not what he had expected.
“You’re telling me that my future will either be good or bad, but you can’t really see it clearly in that glass ball, and you’re saying that it may be that it’s all hopeless anyway.”
“You are skeptical of what I tell you. I understand this. But you would be wise to seek protection… an amulet or enchantments I can provide.”
“For a price, right?” Adam shook his head and pushed his chair back away from the table. He was about to stand. “No, thanks. Have a good evening, madam.”
Adam was about to leave the tent when he heard a tiny bell jingle above his head. He looked up and saw a bell on a string that seemed to run outside the tent.
“Listen to me, young man,” said Madame Endora. “This goes beyond the fortune you have paid for, but I must warn you.”
“Warn me? What are you talking about?”
Adam stood, ready to make his way out of the tent, when she spoke in a loud voice.
“There is a curse. I will give you three signs so that you will know I speak the truth. The first sign is this: danger will come to you from afar. The second sign has to do with your job—your livelihood will suffer. The final sign is that you will see this town begin to experience many terrible trials. And if you see a woman in a violet dress, stay far, far away.”
At that, Adam could take no more of her warnings. He made his way past the dark gauzy curtains and out of the tent. His exit was so abrupt he nearly pulled the front of the tent down. As soon as he stepped outside, he saw a line of people waiting to get in to see her. The next customer was a local fisherman. The short, stout man looked at Adam in surprise and then entered the tent with some trepidation, as though he were now apprehensive about his visit with the gypsy.
Adam saw Martin talking to Stela. He came over to him and said, “You ready to go?”
Martin
winked at Stela, then said to Adam, “You in a hurry?”
Adam glanced at Stela, who gave him a surprised look, as though he had somehow hurt her feelings, then looked back at Martin. “I’m tired. I’m really just ready to go home.”
“Well, I’m not quite ready. Why don’t you go on over and watch the show? Miss Stela’s cousins are doing their acrobatics.”
Adam shook his head, then dismissively waved his hand at Martin. He decided he’d leave on foot. It would be a long walk back in the dark, but at least the moon was nearly full, so it provided enough light for him to see where he was going.
That gypsy is a madwoman, thought Adam. I cannot wait to get home.
Chapter Five
ADAM KNEW HE WOULD BE passing by the Topsail Tavern on his long walk back to the warehouse, so he decided to stop in for a bit to break up the trip.
He was surprised to see Jackson was back working already, considering Valentine had just fired him and wasn’t going to give him his job back until tomorrow.
“Where’s Mama?” Adam asked Valentine, who was lining up recently washed pint glasses on the shelf behind the counter.
“In the kitchen,” Valentine answered, motioning to his left without even turning around.
Just as Adam was about to go in to see her, she came through the heavy wooden door from the kitchen into the dining area, carrying a tray of food.
“Evening, son,” she said as she deftly delivered the plates to her customers while carrying on a conversation with her son. “What are you doing here? I thought you were running around with Martin tonight.”
Adam grimaced as he pressed his hands into the counter. “Hmm… I was, but I got tired of waiting around for him. I’m on my way back to the warehouse. Just wanted to stop by and visit for a minute or two.”
“Did y’all end up going out to Town Creek?” Mary asked excitedly.
Adam rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately. Those gypsies are a bunch of crazy people if you ask me.”
Mary frowned at him. “What an ugly thing for you to say!”
“He’s right, Mary,” said Valentine. “At least he’s got his head on straight.”
“They seemed like very nice people to me,” Mary argued. “I don’t know why you’re so critical, Adam.”
“Good Lord, woman!” Valentine exclaimed. “Sometimes you are sharp as a tack, but some other times you act like you just fell off the turnip truck!” He wiggled his hands up beside his head to illustrate his point. “It boggles the mind.”
“You must have lost some money down there or something,” Mary said. “Earlier today you were saying it sounded like it would be a good diversion if nothing else. So what happened?”
“Oh, I got suckered right into paying to have my fortune read—but at least I didn’t spend much. Only sixpence. Still, it was a waste of time and money.”
Just then Martin entered the tavern and came up and patted Adam on the back. “You disappeared on me, my friend.”
Adam turned around to look at him. “How on earth did you get here so fast?”
“You were walking. I wasn’t.”
Adam shrugged. “True.”
“Anyway, our old friend turned up to see Madame Endora.”
Martin gave Adam a wink so he’d know what he meant.
“Adam was just telling us he didn’t think too much of the gypsies,” said Mary. “Do you share his sentiment?”
Martin twisted up his face. “No. Of course not! I had a good time, even if they are a little bit different.”
“Oh, that’s only because that old gypsy woman told you your future was going to be everything you ever dreamed it could be.”
“Hmph.” Martin tipped his head and looked at Adam like he was challenging him. “Or maybe your opinion of them is colored by the fact you didn’t like the fortune she predicted for you. Maybe you just have bad luck in your future.”
“You hush, Martin,” said Mary. “My son doesn’t have bad luck in his future.” She turned her attention to Adam and worriedly asked, “What did she say?”
“Oh, just a bunch of vague nonsense—like the Fates may be conspiring against me, that my livelihood would suffer, and that this town would experience trials, blah, blah, blah, but of course she’s got amulets and charms that could help protect me.”
Adam waved his hands in front of him in a way that suggested he thought Madame Endora was a lunatic.
“Why would the Fates conspire against you?” asked Mary. “Did she actually say that?”
“See, that’s the thing—at first she said they may be conspiring against me, or maybe they’re not, but then she said the vision in that ball of hers isn’t clear enough to say for sure. But she said there is a curse.”
Mary looked concerned, and apparently Valentine took note of that fact.
“Look at ya, girl!” Valentine said to her. “You’re getting all flustered! Why do you put so much stock in what those kinds of people say? What do they know?”
“They must know a thing or two,” Martin countered. “They have a pretty successful little business, and I reckon when things dry up in one town they can just move on to the next and start all over again.”
“Why do you reckon things dry up?” Adam asked. “Don’t you reckon it’s because folks start to figure out that they’re peddling lies and they get too smart to keep throwing their money away?”
Valentine nodded once and raised up his hand to signal he agreed wholeheartedly with what Adam had just said. “Amen to that.”
Mary said in all seriousness, “Maybe you should go back and get some advice from her on warding off the bad luck. Get one of her protective charms.”
“What?! What in the world?” Adam knew his mother was superstitious, but he’d never seen her like this. “I’m not asking that woman for advice. It’s all just an act anyway.”
“Why are you so stubborn? And angry?” Mary gave him a cross look.
“Stubborn and angry?” Adam said. “I’m out sixpence and the only thing I’ve got to show for it is a bad mood.”
After spending a few more minutes in the tavern talking with Mary, Valentine, and Martin about all that had happened out at the gypsy camp, Martin offered to give Adam a ride back to the warehouse on his way home.
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, Mama, so Lord willing I won’t drop dead tonight from some gypsy curse and I’ll just see you after church.”
He laughed, knowing she would likely be needlessly worrying over him all night. When he saw the look on her face, he felt a little guilty and bowed his head to give her a small kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll give you a little kiss, too, if it’d make you feel better, Miss Mary,” said Martin with a wink.
“Go on, y’all.” Mary pushed them both towards the door.
* * *
WHEN ADAM MADE IT BACK to his own room at the warehouse, he was frustrated to see he’d left the window closed earlier in the day when he’d been cleaning. His room was horribly hot and stuffy. He quickly opened it, then stripped down to his drawers before sitting on the edge of his bed.
What have I gotten myself into? he thought.
He bowed his head and said a quick prayer that bad things wouldn’t happen like the gypsy had warned, just to be on the safe side. He knew his prayer was probably more superstitious than sincere, but nevertheless he still thought it was a good idea to do it. He wasn’t even sure if God would listen to him, since he’d gone and visited that gypsy woman in the first place. Everything about the situation annoyed him.
It annoyed him that in his brain he knew the fortune-telling thing was just entertainment, but in his gut he felt there was more to it than that. It also annoyed him that in spite of intellectually doubting the gypsy’s warnings he was still disturbed by them. And finally, it annoyed him that if his grandfather was able to get inside his head right now, he’d no doubt say to him, “I told you so.”
Adam was also annoyed to suddenly be thinking li
ke his superstitious mother. She had told him he should go back to the gypsy woman and get advice or protection against the bad luck. It annoyed him to even give credence to that advice. He lay down and rested his head on his pillow and stared past his lantern. After thinking about turning it out and going to sleep, he realized he didn’t even feel sleepy. He had too much on his mind, and he knew what would help him let it go—at least for tonight.
He sat back up in his bed. What all did that woman say? Adam tried to remember. He decided that maybe if he just wrote it all down and thought through it logically, he’d be able to see that there was nothing to it. Then maybe he could get some sleep.
Why am I even thinking about this? The more the gypsy’s warnings bounced around in his brain, the more frustrated he became.
He looked over at his dresser and stared at the top drawer. His leather-bound journal and a pencil were inside. The pencil had been imported directly from England. He treasured them both. He had received them as a gift for his last birthday from his grandfather and had taken to writing all sorts of things inside, from recording steps for new tasks he’d learned in the shipping company, to jotting down ideas about places he’d like to go and things he’d like to do, writing stories about funny or interesting things that had happened, scribbling down information about his family as he learned it, and sketching things, like pictures of friends or plans for the home he hoped to build one day.
He opened the journal and flipped to the first empty page. He thought for a moment and then began to write:
The 19th of September 1767 Anno Domini, a Saturday.
This is what the gypsy woman said to me:
Someone from far away with dark features like my own who is no more
Said I have a fear
Says I am skeptical
Past is key to future, hidden darkness
Secret thing from past follows me—said it’s like a rate always chasing me (what is that?)
Warnings of curse—
The Gypsy's Curse Page 4
