Chapter Seven - A Nice Afternoon Scotch
CJ was taking her bodyguard position very seriously; she came to LA with him on Saturday. Hugo parted the beaded curtain to the fortune teller’s shop and they descended down the small narrow flight of mysteriously illuminated stairs.
“Hello, uh…Madame Madeline?” Hugo called, feeling a little embarrassed at the title.
“Come in, children,” a soft voice beckoned to them from a second room that was also shrouded by a beaded curtain. They passed tables with an assortment of fortune telling paraphernalia and several flickering candles.
“Awesome,” CJ whispered reverently from behind him, touching nearly everything she passed.
Madeline was sitting in a pool of murky light before a table draped in stars. Before her a crystal ball refracted the candlelight, glowing dully. “Have a seat.” She motioned to the two ornately cushioned chairs waiting for them, the coins on her scarf rustling softly at the sweep of her arm. The dark, thick curls framing her face looked black in the flickering light. “What great mysteries may I unlock for you today?”
Hugo fidgeted. Would it be more polite to play along with the charade, or should he just come out and say what he wanted? CJ was looking at him expectantly, beating him out in the fidgeting department. If he played along, he probably wouldn’t get a straight answer. “We’re from Gideon Enterprises. My name is Hugo, this is CJ.”
Madeline tensed, nervously pushing a few strands of hair away from her face, “I see.” Her tone was considerably less mysterious this time, “I figured he would send someone for me eventually.”
Hugo’s eyes widened. Did she think they were assassins? “We’re not here because Mr. Gideon sent us. I wanted to talk to you myself.”
“What about?” Suspicion threaded through her voice.
“What, you mean you don’t know already?” CJ looked disappointed.
Madeline smiled a very tired smile and Hugo’s heart squeezed a little in sympathy. “I don’t see everything.”
“Oh ok. So just important stuff then?”
Madeline sighed, “Sometimes.”
“Can you control it?” Hugo blurted out. He immediately sank back in his chair.
Madeline just glanced at him curiously, “Yes. It works just like everyone else’s ability. I concentrate when I’m looking at something, ask the question I want to ask, and then I see what is to come.”
Hugo pressed his hands together, “So you never see the past? Or see things when you’re not trying to?”
Madeline shook her head, her curiosity intensifying. “Why do you ask?”
Everyone was looking at him now like he was some sort of alien. He stared at his shoes and shook his head, “No reason. I was just curious.”
“Hmmm,” The woman said non-committally, leaning back in her chair.
Eventually his own curiosity lifted his head again and he looked Madeline in the eye, “What happens when you look at Mr. Gideon?” Her eyes widened at that, her mouth thinning just a little. Hugo held his breath.
“You are here on your own? Mr. Gideon didn’t send you?” Her voice was wary.
Hugo shook his head, “I have a…feeling. I just need someone to confirm it for me.”
“An explosion. I see an explosion when I look at him,” her voice shook.
“Where? When?” Hugo asked eagerly.
“Seattle. A year from now. Is this what you wanted to know?”
Hugo nodded, unable to get any sound to leave his throat. Madeline leaned back in her chair again, scrutinizing him. He should say something, tell her he’d heard it from someone else, that he’d seen the plans for the bomb, anything that would make this all seem less suspicious, but still, nothing would come out.
“Seattle explodes in a year? That sucks!” CJ threw up her hands in exasperation, “Why would Mr. Gideon blow up Seattle, it’s where he keeps all his stuff!”
CJ had deftly drawn Madeline’s attention away from Hugo. “That’s not quite how it works. He is the catalyst that causes the bomb to go off, he doesn’t necessarily set it himself.”
“Oh man, that is so vague. So how are we supposed to stop it if we don’t know who is actually trying to blow us up?”
“I don’t know,” Madeline said softly, shaking her head, “it’s why I moved.”
“Did you tell anyone?” Hugo asked, a small spark of alarm in his voice.
“Who would believe me now? They all think I’m a fraud.” Madeline’s voice was bitter.
“Maggie doesn’t think so. She told me I should see you.” Madeline smiled slightly at that, but made no further attempt to justify her actions. Hugo chewed on his lip for a moment. “How do you…handle the things you see?”
“A nice afternoon scotch?” Madeline laughed, but she wasn’t lying. Hugo sunk back in his chair further. Even if she could control it, it didn’t make what she saw any more palatable it seemed.
His eyes locked on the table with its pale yellow night sky. “Will you read my future?” He asked quietly, biting his lip.
“Are you sure? These things tend to be less devastating when the person has convinced themselves its fake.”
Hugo nodded. Madeline lifted her hand to the crystal ball, but then dropped it to the table with a small laugh, “Sorry, bad habit. Alright, so what is your question?”
“How am I going to die?”
“Hugo! Why do you always gotta ask the bummer question?” CJ exclaimed, standing up abruptly. Hugo continued staring at the table. “Ugh! I don’t want to listen to this! I’m going outside.” She stomped her way out of the building, not even giving the décor a second glance.
Madeline watched the teenager go and then returned her attention to Hugo. “Are you sure?” He nodded. He never saw what happened to himself. He was rarely even in his visions at all. He was never there for these people he watched die.
Madeline pulled in a slow, long breath, her eyes focused on his face and then she placed her hands in her lap, “On New Year’s Eve, coming off stage after a concert, you are shot several times in the chest by a masked man.”
Hugo nodded slowly. Yes, that would kill him. He should be upset but there was just this empty spot where any logical reaction should be. The explosion was real, Madeline had seen it. And now he had a time frame. Hopefully there were ways to keep himself from dying before he prevented the explosion. “Thank you, Madeline.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Hugo smiled, “It’s ok.” He stood, offering his hand to the fortune teller. She took his hand, and he watched as a man said something in German and then placed a large palm on her forehead. She closed her eyes and then her face melted and turned to dust, followed by the rest of her body. Hugo coughed and Madeline let go of his hand. “Can you see what happens to you?”
“Yes. Goodbye.” Her tone was flat.
Hugo hesitated but obeyed, leaving the building. He would find that man, and he wouldn’t let him hurt Madeline. Ever.
“Are you done now?” CJ asked, still exasperated.
Hugo nodded, smiling, “Yep.”
She drummed her fingers together, looked off to the side, and then finally gave in. “So….what did you find out?”
“It’s unpleasant, but I think I can change it.”
“Great,” She bounced. Then she frowned again, “So, what’s this about an explosion?”
“It was the first thing I saw, actually. It’s why I joined Gideon Enterprises.”
CJ jumped, her mouth spreading into a grin, “What? So we really are spies? Why didn’t you say so?”
Hugo shifted, sticking his hands in his pockets, “I didn’t want to get you in trouble. But I guess now it’s too late.”
“Pfffft! We’re gonna save the world, how could that possibly get us in trouble?”
The Sound of Wind Page 35
