Taryn was bored. The sunny morning had turned into a bleak and blustery afternoon. The foot traffic on the street outside had dried up as the pavement got wetter and wetter in the drizzle. He doubted anyone would be wandering around town perusing crystals and good luck charms, so he had made himself a cup of tea and settled in behind the counter. That was exactly twenty-one minutes ago. Taryn was very sure of this fact, having checked the clock himself. A few times.

The family shop was on a side street which led away from a small park running along the canal (originally the small stream around which the village had sprouted) on the other side from the high street. Over the centuries the locals had built a mill around which the village flourished, evolving into a thriving community. The eventual conglomeration of three large towns into one small city had resulted in the high street, at one point the beating heart of the little town, mostly turning into a string of trendy high end clothing stores and a variety of restaurants. Throughout all of this, however, there had always been a fortune teller operating out of the very location in which Taryn now idly sat and watched the clock crawl towards his freedom. While the name on the door had changed a few times, there was in fact, only one family that had ever owned the business. It was passed from one generation to the next, and was now the sole proprietorship of one Edith Taylor, who not only owned the building and the business, but was in fact, also Taryn’s mother.

Being the only child, it was always expected that Taryn would take over the family business, and a rather successful one at that. It has provided him with a comfortable upbringing. He went to a good school where he met and mingled with social elites of the area. Or at least their children. While he was certainly not the wealthiest of students in attendance, Taryn was still one of the more popular kids, playing on the first team for both rugby in the winter and cricket in the summer.

Taryn knew he should be grateful to have an opportunity to make such a comfortable living so easily but he couldn't help feeling guilty about just how his family’s income was earned. it always felt just a little too predatory for his comfort. The retail side of the business, his current domain, sold a variety of arcane and spiritual tat. Tarot cards, potion vials (test tubes), grimoires of dubious origin, crystals, candles, mood enhancers, alternative health remedies, and sundry other trinkets and baubles all designed to catch the eye of teenage girls trying to find themselves as they began to face the turmoil of adult life. While he didn’t have high turnover, the margins were almost criminal. Still there was no shortage of willing and eager patrons.

The irony of buying the requisite materials for a wisdom ritual, learned from a book purchased from the same shop, which also happens to be the only one in at least five towns in any direction that has both elephant grass and willow bark for sale, both irreplaceable for the ritual, was not lost on him. If only they knew the bark came from the willows that lined the canal. The elephant grass was a little harder to come by. When stocks were getting low Taryn would go for an evening drive through the countryside until he spotted an estate which had used some as an ornamental part of their landscaping. Then he would wait till dark and help himself to a bag or two or leaves. He always felt kind of scummy doing that though. It just felt wrong to make a living selling junk to gullible idiots. Still, that wasn't as bad as what his mother did.

Edith was a seeress. To hear her explain it, she could perceive the shape of the world to come, and with that perception guide a questing soul towards that which it seeks. In truth she was a master. 97% of her “guidance” was a mixture of counseling, psychology, and vague predictions of generic life that sounded just mystical enough to seem prescient. Especially to someone already desperate to believe. It was that last three percent of the time that kept Taryn from turning away from his life as a loveable charlatan. Somehow, when it really mattered, Edith always came through. Taryn had seen more than his fair share of the miraculous and mysterious. Even Edith would be hard pressed to tell the difference between the coincidental and the truly connected. Sometimes it was belief that filled the gaps in a clients mind helping them have the confidence to do what would have otherwise felt impossible.

Taryn glanced up at the clock again. 3:52 P.M. Only 3 minutes since the last time he checked. With another twentyish minutes to kill between now and the only remaining appointment for the day, Taryn decided to have a little fun. He pulled out his phone and started reading up on this weekend's round of the United Rugby Championship. As an avid player in high school, Taryn had fantasized about going pro himself. A separated shoulder in his final year had killed his chances, although he doubted he would have made it anyway. His passion for the sport had remained however. Although he didn’t gamble himself, at his mother’s instance what with their position in the community, Taryn enjoyed seeing which of his guesses were on the money.

Taryn was pondering his last selection when the phone rang. The call was from one of his mothers regulars, Mrs Wilson. She had started seeking guidance after her late husband's estate and netted a lot less than expected and she found herself worried about money for the first time in her adult life. When Taryn took over the front of the shop, one of his first duties was to all but memorise his mothers records. He quickly learned that while nothing of substance was ever noted, Edith would instead write down as much as she could from the small talk. Who was going where on vacation, when the seedlings were repotted, and seemingly any other inane detail you could think of. When he asked about it, Taryn learned it was for two main reasons. Firstly, it was key to building a proper personality profile which in turn was used to create the personal touches Edith would use to help someone feel as if they had been heard and that Edith truly cared. Secondly, by browsing through each file before the person arrived, Edith, and to a lesser extent Taryn could occasionally pick out a detail or two that helped make them seem just that extra bit “in tune” with the universe. For example, Mrs. Wilson liked to find meaning in the smallest things. Whether it was there or not.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Taryn reached for the phone. He was still unsure about his choice for the last game. “Hello Mrs Wilson. What a pleasure to hear from you” he said

“Oh Hello Taryn” said Mrs. Wilson, “can you tell your mum that something came up and i will have to miss my session today.”

From her tone, Taryn guessed that whatever the reason was, it wasn't anything troubling. Time for a little showmanship. “Sorry Mrs. Wilson” Taryn said “but what session today?”

“I have an appointment for this afternoon,” she said. “I was supposed to be there a quarter past four, but I just got some good news and am heading out to celebrate.”

“Well I am certainly glad to hear you have something to celebrate, especially considering I don't see you on the schedule” he lied. “Are you sure you booked it for today”

“Yes, definitely. I rang a couple days ago and got your mum on the phone. I was very worried about… well, your mum knows all about it.”

Taryn rolled his eyes. Mrs Wilson just wanted to believe. Time to end the little gambit.

“Well it seems that she forgot to put you in the schedule for today. I do apologize for the mix up. I'm just glad you weren't put out of..”

“Oh don't be silly” laughed Mrs Wilson. “There are no mix ups with your mum. She obviously knew I wouldn't be able to make it and didn’t book me in. You know how she is.”

“That must be it” Taryn said through a grin. “you're completely right. Her gift never ceases to amaze. Anyway Mrs Wilson, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Actually while I'm on the line anyway, do you think you can fit me in next week?”

“Did you have a day and time in mind?” Taryn asked.

“Is Friday morning open? Anything before Eleven o’clock would do nicely. I have a luncheon at the university”

Taryn checked the calendar. Friday next was wide open. That was lucky. Time for a double play. “I see here you already have an appointment that day. You’re booked in for half past 10 but..” Taryn trailed off for a second, pretending to read a note “I see a note here saying to speak with you first.”

“Ha!” exclaimed Mrs Wilson “ She knew. She must have.”

Taryn smiled as he wrote the appointment down, turning his little fiction in fact. The ones who want to believe were always the easiest to please. As soon as he hung up the call Taryn went into the back room to tell his mom they could pack it in for the night. “Mrs Wilson rescheduled to next friday.”

“Did she say why?” Edith asked, flipping open Mrs Wilson's file.

“Good news to celebrate today apparently. I told her we didn’t have her on the books for today. She jumped right to you having known she wouldn’t make it. So much so in fact I even got her when I said you had already booked her in for next Friday. She makes it so easy” Taryn said through a smile.

“Be careful Taryn, it's better to seem mundane than mistaken.” Edith cautioned, her words somewhat undercut by the smile in her eyes.

Taryn headed back to lock up the shop. He saw his rugby picks lying next to the phone. The last game still bothered him. He knew the Bulls would take the win but he couldn't shake the feeling that this would be a much closer game than most were expecting. It wasn’t like it really mattered. Taryn put the Bulls down for a win with the bonus point but instead of a sound win, Taryn put Connacht to be within seven points earning them a bonus point with the loss. That felt almost right. Still that little nagging feeling in his gut just wouldn’t settle. He added a second bonus point for Connacht deciding they would run in enough tries for that in their attempted upset. It had been an off year for Connacht but Taryn knew the boys were keen for a win and more than willing to step to the South Africans. With a (finally) satisfied smile Taryn left the shop and started walking towards the canal. His rugby team were meeting at a hall on the university campus for a quiz night. The journey was thankfully quite short as the weather was getting down right nasty. It was cold for the time of year and the clouds felt oppressive, somehow extra heavy. It was obviously about to pour so Taryn was trying to make good time. He debated whether he would do better to wait for a bus to take him to the campus or risk the walk. Time wise, the bus trip was actually the longer of the two but he would be out of the rain if it started. Assuming he was already on the bus when it started. Pulling out his phone, Taryn checked the bus schedule. He would be waiting about ten minutes for the bus. He decided that if it was going to rain in the next ten, he would rather be wet and walking than wet and waiting, so he turned his collar up against the wind and set off.