The Fortune Teller

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The Fortune Teller Page 21

by Gwendolyn Womack


  She studied her hands. “I’m fine. I’m in the middle of a work crisis—”

  “And you can’t return one phone call?”

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. It felt like they were strangers now. “I’ve had my phone off so I could deal with this translation thing I’m doing.” She glanced up. “I’m really sorry,” she added, knowing it wouldn’t help.

  Bren glared at her until Cabe finally spoke. “Well, you should have called or texted … even e-mailed.”

  Semele shot Cabe an annoyed look.

  “And what’s this about you being followed?” Bren demanded.

  Semele gave Cabe another look. She couldn’t believe he’d told him.

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “No, you need to go to the police,” Bren insisted.

  “And say what?”

  “That you’re being followed!” Bren raised his voice.

  “And you think it’s connected to the theft at Kairos,” Cabe added.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said again, wanting to believe it, even though she was debating whether it was safe to go back to her apartment.

  Bren drummed his fingers on the table. She had never seen him so upset. The silence was downright painful.

  Cabe decided to step in. “Why don’t you give me whatever you called me here for?” He checked his watch. “I need to get back to the office.”

  Semele welcomed the veer in conversation. She pulled the wooden box from her purse, suddenly nervous to part with it. “My grandmother left this for me—my real grandmother. You could say it’s a family heirloom.” She didn’t tell him the cards inside were connected to the Bossard manuscript. That would take hours to explain. “Can you run the specs today?”

  “Of course. Because I’m awesome.” Cabe put the box in his backpack without opening it and stood up to escape. He gave them both a salute. “Later.”

  Semele jumped up too. “I’ll be right back,” she told Bren and followed Cabe outside. When they reached the sidewalk she said, “You really snowballed me in there.”

  “Come on, Sem. The guy is tortured. You have to talk to him.”

  “I will. I am.”

  Cabe gave her a stern look.

  “I will,” she said, and she meant it. She knew they couldn’t go on like this. She had to face what she was doing to Bren—to both of them. “Can I stay at your place for a couple of nights?”

  He handed her his keys with a pointed look. “Tonight I want to know what’s going on. Including the story behind these.” He patted his backpack and got ready to hop on his bike.

  “Deal.” Semele pocketed his keys and hesitated. “Listen, I need you to keep everything between us—including dating these cards—confidential. Especially from Raina.”

  He looked annoyed. “Why?”

  “I know this sounds crazy … but I saw her with that guy.”

  “What guy?”

  “From the library. The guy following me. They were in his car together right outside my apartment.”

  Cabe looked at her like she’d sprouted a second head.

  “Cabe, I’m not making this up. She was outside my apartment … with him.”

  “Why?” he demanded, as if it were her fault. “That’s crazy!”

  “I don’t know! But they were there!” Now she was yelling too. “All I’m asking is for you to not talk to her about any of this until I know more. What if she’s involved in the theft?”

  “Or what if that guy is security for Kairos?” he shot back. “Ever thought of that?”

  Semele hesitated. She hadn’t, but she quickly dismissed the possibility. That made absolutely no sense. Kairos wouldn’t have had someone following her from Switzerland. No, somehow Raina was involved, but Cabe obviously wasn’t ready to hear it, so she relented.

  “Fine. Maybe he is. We just don’t know. But for now, please keep everything between you and me confidential. I really need you to have my back on this.”

  They stared at each other, ten years of friendship and trust hanging in the balance.

  Cabe expelled a long breath. “Okay, for now. But”—he pointed his finger at her—“you’re telling me everything tonight. Everything.”

  Her eyes teared up and she nodded. “I will. I promise.” She gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.”

  Cabe hugged her back and got on his bike. “Just go talk to Bren. You two can fix whatever is broken.”

  All she could do was nod, her tears falling freely. It felt like everything in her life was breaking and she didn’t know if any of it could be fixed.

  As she watched Cabe bike away, she began to wonder if she’d made a mistake by letting him take the cards. She almost called him back, but he was too far away. Then he turned the corner and was gone.

  She stared at the spot where he had been seconds before; it was now just an empty stretch of sidewalk on a gray day in New York.

  A feeling of déjà vu descended on her.

  Somehow the image already existed in her mind, like a postcard she would never forget. The wind whipped around her, making her turn toward the shelter of the café. She wiped her eyes and forced herself to go back and face Bren.

  * * *

  Semele approached the table and slid into the booth. “Sorry about that,” she said. He didn’t answer. She looked down, avoiding his eyes.

  “Why are you doing this?” Bren finally asked, his voice breaking. “I thought we were happy.”

  “We were happy.” She was quick to agree, bracing herself for the impending avalanche.

  “Was it meeting my parents? Moving in together? What?”

  Semele shook her head.

  “Because as far as I’m concerned that is just the beginning. I’m crazy about you. Want to know how crazy?” He reached into his pocket and put a box on the table.

  Semele stared at the ring she had already foreseen. There it was.

  That little black box said everything. I love you. Whatever you’re going through, I love you. We can get through this together. Four velvet walls full of forgiveness. All she had to do was take it.

  “I bought it while you were in Switzerland,” he admitted. “I thought maybe this Christmas I’d put it in your stocking.” He stopped talking, becoming emotional again. “I can’t believe this is happening. Please, Sem. Don’t do this.”

  Her silence seemed to be causing him physical pain. He grew pale and let out a deep breath. Seeing him suffering like this was unbearable. She didn’t care about protecting her secret anymore. She only knew she had to explain herself, to relieve him from this pain she was inflicting.

  “I’m going to tell you the truth, even though you won’t believe it,” she said before she lost her nerve. “Sometimes I have visions of the future. I’ve had them all my life. I trained myself not to over time, but they’ve started coming back.” She risked a glance at him.

  He was looking at her dumbfounded.

  “I had one of you. A strong one.” Her voice wavered. “You were married and very much in love with someone. And it wasn’t me.”

  Bren stared at her, hurt etched into his face.

  “Say something. Please,” she begged. But he wouldn’t. She grew desperate and blurted, “You’re going to have two kids together!”

  “God, you’re cruel.”

  He thought she was joking. Semele put her head in her hands and let out a sound between a laugh and a cry. And for a split second she thought maybe he was right. Maybe the premonition was an excuse not to deal with her feelings. She had so many things going on in her life.… But then she saw what she saw, and if she were honest with herself, she had sensed the truth of their relationship from the start. Her father’s death earlier in the year was just the catalyst that made her to start to pull away.

  “Are you on something?”

  Semele shook her head, her heart aching at the anger emanating from him.

  “You’re breaking up with me over a premonition?” He spit it out like a dirty word. “That’s insane!” He fo
lded his arms and leaned back against the booth. “And you believe it?” His voice rose in outrage. “I don’t know what to say. What do you want me to say, Semele?”

  “Nothing,” she said, unable to defend herself.

  “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “You’re unbelievable. I never thought you would do something like this.” He stared at her, his eyes cold and hard. “I thought I knew you. But I guess I don’t.” He stood and swiped the ring off of the table. Then he stormed out.

  Semele could feel fresh tears stinging her eyes. In one conversation she had lost a lover and a friend, forever. Her whole life she had denied her intuition because facing it came at such a high price. Now all the memories rushed back. She remembered the feeling of knowing what she shouldn’t, and why she’d tried so hard to rid herself of her ability—because in the end no one understood. She was alone.

  Message to VS—

  Back in NY. Friend meeting her.

  Reply from VS—

  Does she have them?

  Message to VS—

  I’ll know soon.

  The Star

  Semele made her way to Cabe’s apartment, where she planned to camp out for the rest of the day. Her thoughts felt more weighted with every step. In her purse she had Macy’s dream stone, a picture of Nettie and her birth mother, and her father’s translation. That’s all she had.

  She walked past The Third Eye, a bookstore in Brooklyn that also offered psychic readings. She had passed by it countless times but had never been inside. Without giving herself time to change her mind she went in.

  Near the door, there was a bulletin board with the name and a short bio of each psychic that was available to give readings that day. Below their bios, the psychics had listed their expertise—if they specialized in palmistry, tarot, astrology charts, channeling, or past-life regression, or if they were clairaudient or clairvoyant.

  Semele read the roster with raised eyebrows, about to lose her nerve. She chose a psychic named Doreen, who specialized primarily in tarot readings, and paid thirty dollars at the register for a thirty-minute consultation.

  In the glass case by the register were over fifty different kinds of tarot decks with varying artwork. Semele leaned down to read some of the titles: the Crystal Tarot, the Mythic Tarot, the Fairytale Deck. There was also a Renaissance deck depicting Greek and Roman deities, and one designed to look like stained-glass windows. There were even steampunk and The Lord of the Rings decks—too many to choose from. She saw that they had a replica of the Visconti Deck, right next to the Tarot de Marseilles.

  The shop clerk noticed her interest. “Rider-Waite is the perfect deck to start with. It’s the ABCs of tarot. A classic.”

  Semele gave her a faint smile.

  * * *

  A plump woman in her sixties sat at a table for two in a room smaller than a walk-in closet. Doreen had on a bright floral blouse and was sipping a tumbler of iced tea with a big straw. All she was missing was a sun visor and the cruise ship to go with it. She stood up with a warm smile when Semele entered and motioned to the other chair in the tiny space. “Welcome. Please have a seat.”

  Semele sat down and watched Doreen dim the lights and light a candle. Soft celestial-sounding music played in the background. She looked at Doreen’s tarot cards with open curiosity and saw they were the same cards the shop clerk had recommended. “What kind of deck is that?”

  Doreen seemed surprised by the question. “I use the Rider-Waite Deck.”

  “What century is it from?”

  Doreen’s eyebrows shot up. “These originated in the early 1900s.”

  “In Italy?”

  “In England.” Doreen smiled, thinking Semele must be nervous. “May we hold hands?”

  The question surprised her, but Semele nodded and Doreen folded her hands into her soft palms. The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she exhaled and took another.

  Semele watched her, not sure what was happening. This was not how she thought the reading would go. Wasn’t Doreen supposed to deal out the tarot cards? Semele tried hard to sit still, not wanting to distract her.

  The celestial music created a hypnotic calm, and Semele’s eyes settled on the burning candle. The room began to take on a dreamlike quality as she watched the wax melt.

  “You’ve lost someone close to you,” Doreen said, her voice sad and distant.

  Semele’s chest seized with emotion.

  “He died too soon. He’s worried for you. His presence is strong. He wants to tell you he’s sorry.… So sorry.”

  Semele’s grief returned with a power that was physically painful. She could feel her father. She could feel him behind the words. She waited breathlessly to hear more.

  Instead Doreen opened her eyes and said gently, “I’m sorry, that’s all I see.” She let go of Semele’s hands, then picked up the tarot cards and began to shuffle. “Why don’t we begin?”

  Semele wasn’t ready to move on to the cards. In a sharp instant she had felt her father. She wanted to call the moment back, to live there and speak with him.

  Doreen held the cards out to her. “Please shuffle the deck,” she instructed. “Think about what you want to know.”

  Semele had difficulty focusing on the task. She ended up shuffling the cards, her mind blank, and handed them back.

  Doreen laid a series of cards out facedown in a crosslike pattern. She turned over the first card. The Hanged Man.

  “You are in a place of great confusion … questioning everything about your life. You’re starting to see the world differently.”

  Semele was still in a daze but thought that seemed pretty on the mark.

  The next card was The Chariot. “I see a time of fast movement, travel. You will leave your work, your job. This will happen suddenly.”

  Semele’s eyes met Doreen’s. “What do you mean ‘leave’?”

  Was she getting fired?

  Doreen didn’t answer. She was too caught up in the reading. She turned over the next card.

  The Devil. This one was upside down.

  “Every aspect of your life is challenging you. You must break free from your attachments to discover your true self.”

  What attachments? She had just dumped her almost-fiancé at a cáfe. Semele wished Doreen would slow down. The woman was turning over cards with remarkable speed, and Semele was still reeling from being told her father was trying to reach her from the grave.

  The Hermit. “You must walk your path alone, but you are afraid of the knowledge that exists inside you. You must leave the world you know to find the one that waits for you.”

  Leave the world? Semele frowned. That didn’t sound good.

  Doreen studied the next card with thoughtful eyes. The Hierophant. “You have a teacher in your life. A woman. She has been guiding you. She has much to tell you, but you are not yet ready to listen.”

  Semele raised her eyebrows. Did she mean Ionna?

  “You are tied to one man. The tie is strong. Trust your heart. Together you will grow stronger.” Doreen pointed to The Lovers card.

  Semele stared at it, thinking Doreen had made an error. She wasn’t tied to anyone, not anymore. An image of someone did appear in her mind, but Theo was a client and an enigma—

  The Tower. “You will lose something precious.” Doreen stared at the cards for a long moment. She looked confounded.

  “What?” Semele leaned forward.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just you’ve only drawn Major Arcana cards and nothing else.” She studied the spread, bewildered. “The odds of that are highly unlikely.”

  Semele wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but she was becoming more unnerved as the minutes passed. She was beginning to question her sanity for even coming here.

  Doreen turned over another card, Strength. This one faced upside down too.

  “Aren’t upside-down cards bad?” Semele had to ask.

  “Not in the way that you think,” Doreen said, trying to continue. “You are ful
l of self-doubt and afraid to embrace your true self. You must have faith. Gather your strength.”

  Okay, this woman is going off the grid. This was starting to sound fifty shades of weird. Semele checked her watch, ready for this whole experience to be over with.

  Wheel of Fortune. Upside down again. What was it with the upside-down cards?

  “There are negative forces surrounding you.…” Doreen trailed off.

  Semele watched Doreen turn over the next card.

  Death.

  Now she began to stress. Could a reading get any worse?

  “You are undergoing a transformation,” Doreen said, sounding vague. She pulled another card. Judgement. Doreen stayed silent.

  “What is it?” Semele was almost afraid to ask.

  “Despair,” Doreen whispered, looking shaken. “I’m sorry. I try not to focus on the negative when I give a reading, but you…”

  “Are filled up to the wazoo with it?” Semele tried to joke, but she was starting to panic.

  Something was incredibly wrong. It was the same feeling that had gripped her outside the café.

  “Pick a card,” Doreen commanded with a sense of urgency, as if trying to gain control of the reading again.

  Semele drew one from the deck. The High Priestess—another Major Arcana card.

  Doreen stared at it, speechless. She looked at the spread of cards, then at Semele, and then back to the spread.

  “What does this one mean?” Semele prompted her.

  Doreen held the card up. A bead of sweat had formed on her lip. “What do you see?”

  Semele studied the card, not sure what she was supposed to see. It depicted a queenlike woman sitting on a throne between two pillars. She was holding a scroll in her hands.

  “This is your card. The High Priestess.” Doreen placed it on top. “She symbolizes our intuition. She guards the Tree of Life at the gate of the conscious mind, wearing the blue robe of knowledge and the crown of Isis.” Her finger tapped the image. “Whatever challenges are ahead, never forget you have an inner strength and your own compass. You drew these cards for a reason. I’ve never seen a spread like it.”

 

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