The Fortune Teller
When a Halloween carnival comes to town, three high school friends pay a visit to a fortune teller who is not what he seems.
Do you believe in fate? I didn't. Not until fate came looking for me.
You never know when you’re going to
have to face your demons. Or how one simple choice might change your life forever.
I couldn’t have anticipated what would happen that night. The fact that it
almost went wrong, so very wrong, makes my story even more unsettling.
The Halloween carnival was just
supposed to be something fun to do. Our small town clung to the edge of the
wrong side of Seattle and didn’t have a lot going on. Then the carnival showed
up the weekend of Halloween. My friends, Hailey and Britt, loved Halloween and I
knew they would want to go. I loved Halloween, too; at least I used to before
my mom left. Hailey, pretty, adventurous, and outgoing, was new at our high
school last year and even though I’m on the shy side, we quickly bonded over
having single-parent homes. I met Britt in the 6th grade when Brian Hardy made
fun of my short, choppy haircut (Dad tried his best after Mom left) and Britt
punched him in right in the face. We’ve been best friends ever since.
The three of us wandered through the
crowd of people, mostly kids from our high school, but I recognized a couple of
guys from Eastlake High, our rival school. They were in the process of trying
to steal a sign advertising the world’s biggest corndog. We hurried past them
and walked through the booths selling kettle corn and caramel apples, stopping
to throw darts at ghost balloons for cheap prizes and laughing at the costumed
vampires and zombies that roamed through the crowds scaring the little
kids.
The last booth at the end of the row was a fortune teller’s tent. The tent was covered with dark, heavy fabric and the sign hanging outside said:
Hailey said, “I’ve always wanted to get
my fortune told. Let’s go in!” Without waiting for us to reply, she disappeared
through the folds of heavy fabric hanging down creating a makeshift door.
Britt, ever the competitive one, followed her.
I hesitated. For one thing, my dad once told me that all fortune tellers are con artists that are good at saying what you want to hear. Besides, the way I see it, the future is inevitable and whether you know what will happen or not, it can’t be changed.
Hailey poked her head out of the tent door and whined, “Lena, come on! This will be fun! Please?”
I sighed and reluctantly followed her
inside. The tent was dimly lit and stuffy. Thick fabric in jewel tones of garnet,
sapphire, and amethyst hung artfully draped from the ceiling making it look
like you had walked into another world. In the middle of the room was a table with a plain wooden stool on one side and a tall chair covered in
a rich velvet brocade on the other. A longer table along the side of the
tent held tall flickering candles, a small metal box, and an incense burner
doing a decent job of filling the space with a heavy fragrance.
A man appeared, seemingly from nowhere, stepping through a fold in the fabric at the back of the tent, taking one last pull on his cigarette before dropping it on the grass and stepping on it. I stared at him in surprise – I’d never seen a male fortune teller before.
Without acknowledging us, he walked
over to the long table and picked up the box. It was dark metal and had a
large, staring blue eye painted on the lid. Creepy. He unlocked the box with
an old-fashioned looking key hanging from a leather cord around his neck, and then he
set it down on the smaller table with a thunk and opened the lid. A
blue silk lining held a stack of shabby-looking Tarot cards. He sat down in the
velvet chair without a smile and without looking at us and began to shuffle the
cards.
Standing in the shadows near the doorway, I studied the fortune teller’s face carefully. He was younger than I thought. He couldn’t be much older than us, maybe in his early 20s. He had dark shoulder-length hair pulled half up into one of those man-buns. He had a carefully clipped mustache and goatee that made him look more like a pirate than a fortune teller, and I’m 99% sure he was wearing black eyeliner. His high cheekbones and large, dark eyes made him look exotic, maybe Spanish or Persian. He wore a black vest, and to complete his Bohemian fortune teller look, he wore a white shirt hanging open a few buttons too many, which showed a tanned chest and several more necklaces.
He looked up at Hailey, already seated on
the stool in front of the table, finally acknowledging her presence. “Are you
ready to begin?” he asked, making an elaborate show of shuffling the musty deck
of Tarot cards. Without waiting for a response, he placed three cards face down on the table in front of
her.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Hailey,” she said and giggled.
He smiled at her and I caught my breath. When
he smiled, he went from being interesting looking to devastatingly handsome.
More than handsome, he was hot. Like, ridiculously hot. His teeth were
perfectly straight and his large, dark eyes crinkled at the corners in a way
that made my heart stop. Hailey grinned back at him, her eyes shining.
“May I have your hand, please?” he
asked, and Hailey held out her right hand. He turned it so her palm was facing up
and began to trace the lines with his fingers. “You want people to notice you,”
he told her. “You want to be seen. You want to be someone people talk
about.”
He let go of her hand and flipped over the first card. It had an intricate design of a medieval-looking jester drawn in colorful ink. It said The Fool. He turned over the second card, which showed a burning tower. He said, “You will have what your heart desires. Everyone will have your name on their lips.” The third card he turned over featured a woman with long hair surrounded by garlands of flowers. It said The World. “You will be the one that they flock to,” he said, giving her another dazzling smile.
Jeez, this guy is smooth, I thought, rolling my eyes. I was glad for the dim lighting so he couldn’t see me. At least, I hoped he couldn't see me.
Hailey lowered her head and sighed. Thin
tendrils of purple smoke rose from the cards on the table. Where is that
smoke coming from? I thought as I looked over at the incense burner on the
long table. It had gone out. And the candles looked like those battery-powered
ones you see at craft stores. I looked back at Hailey and saw more wisps of smoke
twirling up toward the fortune teller.
“I’m next,” said Britt as Hailey reluctantly stood
and the fortune teller once again shuffled the deck of Tarot cards.
“What is your name?” he asked her as
she sat on the stool in front of him. Again, he lay three cards face down on
the table.
“Britt,” she said and looked at him
with a challenge in her eyes. I could tell she was skeptical, but she was also
more than a little curious about what he would tell her.
“Give me your hand,” he said, and she
held it out to him, palm up. He looked at it and said, “You are a talented
artist, no?”
Britt looked surprised. “How did you
know?” she asked, smiling brightly. Um, probably from your perpetually
ink-stained fingers? I thought meanly.
He turned over the first card in front
of her. It said The Lovers. The second card showed eight coins with pentagrams
drawn in the middle. The fortune teller looked at Britt, who was now eagerly
leaning forward.
“There is a boy,” he said, and Britt’s
eyes widened. I rolled my eyes again; every teenage girl has a crush, as if that’s hard to guess.
The fortune teller turned over the third
card, which showed three silver swords piercing through a red heart with an eye
drawn in the center, blood dripping down like rain. Oh, ick.
The fortune teller’s silky voice held
Britt captive. “This boy, you do not know if he likes you?” She nodded, her
eyes growing larger. “He does notice you. He notices your talent. He thinks of
you often.” The fortune teller glanced at her under long, thick lashes. “He is
obsessed with you,” he said quietly, each word dripping with dramatic emphasis.
Britt’s mouth dropped open and she
turned to look at me, as she mouthed, No way! She turned back to the
fortune teller and sighed. “Thank you!” she said a little breathlessly, her
head drooping. Again, I saw a fine trail of purple-ish smoke swirling up from
the cards toward the fortune teller. When it reached him, he seemed to breathe
it in. What is happening?
He opened his eyes and fixed his gaze
on me. “And you,” he said expectantly. I looked right back at him, forcing my
face to remain expressionless. “Do you also want to know your fortune, Lena?”
he asked.
For a moment, I could only stare back
at him. How did he know my name? “Uh, no, that’s okay,” I said. A
tingling feeling began creeping up the back of my neck like a swarm of insects.
I blinked, breaking eye contact and the feeling stopped immediately.
“Oh, I think that you do,” he said, leaning back in his chair and taking a Tarot card from his vest pocket. He began tapping the table with the edge of the card. Why was that in his pocket and not with the rest of the cards? As he tapped, I looked at the card closely. It was incredibly ornate, with swirls of black and red ink depicting a skeleton with a bright silver crown in the center surrounded by dark red roses. It said The Magician.
He finally spoke, “I promise it will be
. . . painless.” Okay, that
isn’t creepy or anything. He tucked the card back into his pocket
and gestured toward the stool. He said, “Please, sit,” and I sat down
tentatively.
“Give me your hands,” he said, his long
lashes lowering over his eyes. His hands were warm and dry, and a little rough.
With difficulty, I tried not to think about his hands holding mine, his fingers
lightly tracing the lines in my palms. After a long moment of tense
silence, he looked at me. I shifted uncomfortably and looked down at my hands. His
confident stare was unnerving.
Finally, he spoke. “You want to know
your future, Lena,” it was not a question. “You seek your path. You seek
knowing.” His thumbs began stroking my palms sending spidery shivers skittering
down my spine. The tent seemed to darken although I didn’t notice the candles
flicker or dim. “What you seek is also seeking you. However, it will not come
without a price. Do you want to know your future?”
Price? What kind of price? His handsome face gave away no secrets. I looked at my two friends, first at Hailey, who grinned at me encouragingly and then at Britt who only shrugged. I glanced back at the fortune teller, who was still staring at me.
The hair on the back of my neck began to stand on end. What is going on? That only happens when there are . . . I purposely ignored the rest of that thought. “Yes,” I said, trying to sound confident, but mostly it came out sounding like a squeak.
“Good,” he said, as a smile lifted the
corners of his mouth. “Then let us begin.”
He let go of my hands –
finally –
and shuffled the cards once more. He fanned the cards out onto the table, and
then gathered them up in one smooth motion. He laid four cards on the table
face down in a diamond-shaped pattern. I watched him intently, wondering why
there were four cards this time instead of three. I could feel Britt and Hailey,
standing on either side of me, lean in for a better look.
“Now Lena,” he said, his voice sounded
almost . . . eager. “Choose.”
I had no idea which card I was supposed
to pick first. His face was a mask of stillness but his dark eyes glittered
like obsidian. I pointed to the card at the top, the one closest to the fortune
teller. He flipped it over to reveal a woman in plain robes standing on top of an
inverted pyramid with an eye drawn inside of it. The border around the card had
interlocking snakes twisted into Celtic knots. It said The High Priestess.
He looked at the card for so long it
seemed he’d never tell me what it meant. I looked over at Hailey, but she was
staring straight ahead. I turned to look at Britt and she was doing the same
thing. “Hey,” I hissed at Britt, but she didn’t move.
“Do not worry about them, Lena.” The
fortune-teller said slowly, still looking at the card on the table. “They are
fine.”
Britt stood still as a statue. My heart
began to pound. Something wasn’t right. I reached out and touched her arm. It
was ice cold. I looked at the fortune teller, starting to feel frantic. “What
did you do to her?”
Instead of answering, he said in a
silky smooth voice, “Britt, Hailey, you may wait outside.” My friends turned
toward the front of the tent at precisely the same time and obediently walked
through the heavy velvet doorway as if a puppet master had pulled their
strings. The thick fabric swished back into place behind them. It may as well
have been a prison door clanging shut.
I went to stand up and follow them, but
I couldn’t move. I was stuck to the wooden stool as if I’d been super glued to
it. My hands stuck to the table as I tried to push myself up. I panicked and
yelled, “Britt! Hailey!”
“I told you, they are fine,” he said.
“But they cannot hear you. No one outside this room can hear you.” He leaned forward
and reached for my right hand. He said, “Choose. Another. Card.” and lifted my
hand off the table.
Finally, with one hand free, I tried
again to stand, but I was trapped. I pointed a trembling finger at the card on
my left. He flipped it over. It had an image of a hand with lines crisscrossing
the palm and a single eye stared out from the center. Rune-like symbols traced
up each finger and the card had a repeating number 8 pattern around the border.
It said simply, Death.
He looked at the card for a moment then
said, “Turn over the last two cards, Lena.”
I turned over the third card. It said
Judgment and had a golden scale with a coiled snake on one side and a unicorn
on the other. The last card showed a woman in an elaborate red dress wearing a silver
crown. She had a long silver sword in one hand and the other was holding up a
severed head. It said Queen of Swords.
He grabbed my hand and pulled it toward
him, his eyes searching my palm intently. The blood ran cold in my veins. That’s
it, I’m done. “Let go of my hand,” I said and tried to pull away, but it
was as if my hand was glued to his. I was getting a little tired of being stuck to
things.
His eyes burned like liquid fire when
they locked onto mine and for just a moment, I forgot who I was. I mentally
shook myself. Get it together, Lena!
“Could it be possible?” he murmured as
he picked up and inspected the High Priestess card. “Yes, I can see it now –
the power, the possibilities. You are not what you seem. Together, you and I
will rule this world.”
“Nope,” I said, once again trying to
pull my hand free so I could get the hell out of there. “You’ve got the wrong
girl. Trust me, WE aren’t doing anything together. You don’t even know me.”
“Lena,” he said in a silky voice like
a predator purring. “Have you not figured it out?” He leaned forward, his eyes
bright like flickering candles. He tilted his head to the side as a look of
pity crossed his handsome face. “Shall I tell you about your family, Lena? How
your mother did not love you enough to stay? That she left you and your father
without a second thought. That your father wonders every day if things would be
different without you? That he would trade you for her in a heartbeat and be
free of the burden of raising a child alone?”
“You’re a liar,” I said as tears
pricked the back of my eyes, but I knew every word he said was true. I had
known it deep down inside since the day Mom walked out on us.
“I never lie.” He said coolly as he let
go of my hand and folded himself back into his chair, graceful as a coiled
snake. “The fortunes I tell always come true. Your friends, for example. Hailey,
the foolish-hearted one? She will get her pathetic wish: she will become the
most popular girl at your school. So popular, in fact, that her love life will
be all they talk about. Rumors will spread like wildfire and she will never
escape the scathing whispers that will follow her wherever she goes. And the
other one, Britt? That boy she thinks never notices her – and he doesn’t, he has
no idea she exists – will suddenly find himself obsessed with her. He will
follow her everywhere she goes, creep into her house to watch her sleep, and
spend every waking minute thinking only of her. If she talks to another boy, it
will enrage him. He will hurt her if she dares to think of anyone but him.” His
lips twisted into a smile, and instead of dazzling, it looked as vicious as a
python’s. “Fools seek their fortunes,” he said as rose from the velvet chair
and walked around the table to stand in front of me. “But not you, Lena.”
“Who are you?” I asked. He didn’t
answer. I tried again, “What are you?”
“We have been called many things,” he
said, his voice as cold and smooth as a river stone. “Jinn, soothsayer,
magician, fortune teller.”
“We?” I asked, but he only smiled. “Why
are you doing this?” I asked him and he laughed, a low chuckle that made me
shiver, and not in a good way. He took my hand and pulled me up to stand in
front of him.
“Let go of me.” I tried to sound
commanding, but instead, it came out like a whimper. I tried to pull away but
his grip was like iron.
“Stop resisting, Lena. Accept your
fate.” He gripped my chin in his fingers and forced me to look at him. I suddenly
forgot why I was trying to get away. He smiled his beautiful, terrifying smile and
touched my cheek so softly that it made me shudder.
“I do not tell fortunes, Lena,” his
voice was barely above a whisper. “I create them.”
I finally remembered to breathe as the
world righted itself. “What are you saying?”
His smile faded as he stepped back and
dropped my hand. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. Fear of the unknown and
the desire to control what is just out of reach bring people to me. They have
no idea what they give up in exchange. It is what makes me powerful – it is my
lifeblood.”
As he said this, something was scratching
at the back of my mind. A thought that really wanted to break free. Something
important.
The fortune teller gathered up the
Tarot cards. “People think they are free to ask their questions about love and
life when they have no idea what it is they are playing at.” He placed the
cards in the metal box. “You think you can live any life you choose,” he
continued, “but that is a false dream, a fantasy.”
Not thinking, I blurted, “Why do you
care? You don’t have to do anything to anyone. I mean, can’t you just get a
hobby or something?”
Before I could blink, he rushed toward
me and slammed his hands on the table on either side of me, making me lean back
and gasp in surprise. Well, at least my talent for horribly timed sarcasm hadn’t
abandoned me.
“Foolish child,” he hissed, inches from
my face. “You think you can do whatever you like, be whoever you want, and
reject your fate? You are the one who is living a lie.”
“I’m not . . . ,” I began to say, and then
paused. I could see the corner of the Magician card sticking out of his vest
pocket. A terrible idea crept into my mind. I quickly
thought of something to say that would distract him. “Look,
you don’t have to keep me here. I’ll stay on my own. Like you said, I don’t
really have a reason to go home.” He didn’t move, but I could feel the strange
hold he had on me releasing. It was working!
“The High Priestess card is very rare,”
he said stepping back a few inches. “No one in all my lifetimes has pulled
those four cards together. You have no idea what you are, do you?” He smiled at
me, a smile that would have melted the hearts of a hundred other girls.
Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like
other girls.
“Actually, I know exactly what I am,” I
said as a look of dark confusion washed over his face. “Being a fortune teller
and all, I’m kind of surprised you didn’t see this coming.”
I grabbed the corner of the Magician
card and whipped it out of his pocket. I pulled out the lighter I always keep
in my jacket. His face registered the briefest shock as I flicked the lighter
and touched the card to the flame.
That old Tarot card lit up like a
sparkler on the Fourth of July.
“What have you done?” he screamed as a
cloud of dark smoke engulfed him, but it was too late. I lunged toward the open
box on the table and threw the burning Magician card inside, catching the rest
of the cards on fire. The last thing I saw were his beautiful, dark eyes as he
disappeared in a column of smoke.
The scent of a thousand lifetimes
filled the tent making me feel lightheaded. Never leave home without a
lighter, Dad always says. You never know when you’ll need to burn the
soul card of an evil Jinni. As usual, he was right.
Mostly I try to avoid the notice of
monsters – believe me, it’s always better to fly under the radar – but
sometimes you just can’t hide from fate. My dad may not have wanted a daughter,
but at least he cared enough to teach me the family business. I guess I realize
now I was born to do it. Dad promised to give it up, but Mom left anyway. The
way I figure it, Mom chose to leave when she’d had enough of the danger and the
uncertain lifespan of a monster hunter and not because she didn’t love us anymore.
At least, that’s what I choose to
believe.
I watched the cards burn for a minute more, just to be sure each and every one had curled into a pile of ashes before I snapped my lighter shut and put it back in my pocket. I closed the lid of the metal box, smoke still escaping from the sides sending pale tendrils curling up into the darkness of the stuffy tent. I looked down and saw the key lying in a circle of scorched grass. I locked the box and hung the key around my neck.
I picked up the box and studied it, cringing at the blue eye painted on the lid. That’s the first Jinni I’ve handled on my own – Dad will be proud, I thought as I shoved it into my bag. I pushed aside the heavy velvet fabric and walked out of the fortune teller’s tent.
I saw Britt and Hailey standing by the funnel cakes, completely unaware of what had just happened. I looked at my friends and thought about what their futures might have been. What if I hadn’t figured out what the fortune teller really was? That’s when I realized I didn’t need anyone to predict what my future would be. I already knew.
Britt saw me first as I walked over to
them. “Lena! Can you believe what that fortune teller told me?” she said. “I
can’t wait to go to school on Monday. I wonder when it will come true?”
“You know what?” I said as I smiled and
slung my arm around her shoulders. “I think it’s better if we decide our own
futures.”
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