The Fortuneteller is Out- Act Two

The Magician-

‘And this, with your future, ties everything together.

Everything you are now and have been has left you with a deep well of potential, especially creatively.

You’ll be able to use your feminine wisdom and intuition to take the nascent ideas floating around up there’ she poked Tara in the forehead

‘and make them real down here in the world with the rest of us. You will, for lack of a better word, manifest a new world with the story in your soul.’

‘Wow. Can we switch parts?’

‘Tara….’

‘I know. You’re really good at this by the way’

‘It’s simple. You just create a prophecy that cannot help but come true by using a combination of generalization and manipulation. Savvy?’

‘You got it, boss.’

ACT TWO, SCENE ONE

The crowd had grown significantly since Morgan’s illusion, drawn in by the clamor and the confusion. People whispered jokes and comments to each other that

They would be far too afraid to say directly to the performers…hushed, so that no-one else could hear. But I could. I was standing with Hunter, my Sister, and my friends in the middle of the crowd.

The second witch, Abigail, stepped forward and pushed her companion out of the way. In the torchlight, her dress looked beyond black- consuming the light itself.

ABIGAIL

I think I can do better than that! Can I get any volunteers from the audience?

Anyone?

I raised my hand and stepped forward, almost out of a fear that no-one else would. I would learn some time later that Darren was moments away from doing the same.

ABIGAIL

What’s your name, dear?

‘Um…’ my voice cracked briefly ‘It’s Violet’ I tried to smile.

ABIGAIL

That’s a lovely name. Violet, I just want to check in- have we ever met? Do we know each other?

‘....No?’ I looked for a moment, trying to see if the Witch that stood in front of me was someone that I knew.

ABIGAIL

Good. Have you ever been given a tarot reading before?

She started moving towards me, leaving the stage and entering the crowd. I felt every muscle in my body tense and freeze.

‘No, definitely not’

Abigail put her arm around me, and started walking the two of us back towards the stage.

ABIGAIL

Well, I’m the resident fortune-teller. Normally I charge for each reading- Ten Dollars, (she addressed the crowd) very reasonable don’t you think? I’m in a tent over by the food area- you can’t miss it!

She looked back at me

So, we’re going to do a basic and simple three card spread.

‘Okay. What do I need to do?’ I heard my sister laugh from deep within the audience

ABIGAIL

First, I need you to shuffle these cards.

I looked at the deck of thick paper cards, worn a bit from age and use.

‘I don’t really know how to shuffle the cards without a table.’ When I said this, Abigail smiled.

ABIGAIL

I can show you.

Abigail took the cards and stood next to me. Surprisingly close, she started using her hands to move small chunks of about twenty cards per shuffle from their present location in the deck to the front or the back, alternating far too much for me to keep track.

As I understand it, that’s kind of the point.

I looked up to see the entire crowd looking at me and for a moment- then, at that time - I panicked and froze up. I took a deeper and louder breath than I would have planned, and I noticed Abigail- or perhaps the woman whose name was listed in the brochure as Tara Weaver- looked over at me, half-concerned.

ABIGAIL

How Old are you, hon?

‘15?’

ABIGAIL

Don’t ask me, I asked you.

I heard the crowd all around us break into a quiet laugh. I looked back.

‘15’

ABIGAIL

Dang, then I probably should have stopped shuffling a while ago.

Another laugh. Abigail stopped shuffling and stood with the deck in her left hand, and her right hand outstretched in basically the same position, empty palm facing up.

I stood for another moment, frozen.

ABIGAIL

Hit me!

She made a gesture with her empty hand, so I took the top card of the deck. I looked at the card for a moment, the art was practically indecipherable to me in front of these people. I figured that the Witch would explain, anyway. I put the card, face-up in the palm of her hand.

ABIGAIL

(urgently)

No, not like that!

She laughed.

ABIGAIL

Kidding…Violet Whatshername, your past- a tunnel with no end, leading only to the void from whence you came, and that you can never return to-

She raised, in a graceful movement , the card towards her face so she could see for herself.

Ah…I see.

This gal’s name is The Moon! Does that mean anything to you?

I shook my head. The witch mimed a gasp.

ABIGAIL

Well, Number Eighteen, The Moon, is a sign of deception.

Have you been keeping secrets, Violet?

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I asked, louder than I had meant to. The crowd’s laughter roared at this. My thoughts raced to - They know, oh god they know because I’m ugly and disgusting, they’re making fun of me-and I looked around myself nervously.

ABIGAIL

Oh just any kind of deception makes this card show up. It’s all in the….

She paused for a very long moment.

ABIGAIL

But that’s just the past! Don’t worry about it!

A kinder laugh from the crowd.

I looked at the card in my hand. A wolf was laying or perhaps lying by the edge of a lake. It was not howling, but it was looking up at the moon. In the moon’s shadow was the shape of a woman resting her head on her hand, rolling her eyes.

ABIGAIL

Is everybody ready for the next one?

There was a cheer and a few claps from the audience. I could hear Violet cheering as well.

ABIGAIL

Are you ready for the next one?

I nodded, and then said ‘Yeah’ .

ABIGAIL

The present, your home in time. This is the path as you walk it. The journey but not the destination.

She tapped the top of the deck once again. I took another card.

I knew this one. A man and a woman were standing close to each other, the woman with her palms upward and the man with his palms facing down- with them clasping together at the thumbs. From the ground near their feet, a long string of Ivy climbed up, spiraling around both of their legs, binding them together. The sun was obscured by the lovers’ heads, which gave them a sort of halo of light.

‘The Lovers’

ABIGAIL

Quite right! Number Six, the Lovers!

Most people know this one.

I started feeling my face becoming warm. I always hoped that no-one would notice me blushing, but I knew from experience that it would probably be visible from orbit. I dashed my eyes towards the crowd, trying not to let anyone know who I was looking for.

I wasn’t able to see Hunter, but my eyes landed dead on Darren, and we stared at each other- I tried to remove the emotion from my face to keep my reaction ambiguous, but it probably looked like that one meme. The one with the guys at the restaurant? Staring at each other blankly like deer in the headlights.

ABIGAIL

Doing okay there, Violet?

Oh, I see, you came with people.

Well, yes, the Lovers is- I mean look at the image!

I did

ABIGAIL

But….it, just like love out there in the real world, can mean more than simple romantic love. What love means to me

-if you’ll let me go on a tangent-

Some people in the crowd started moving on.

ABIGAIL

Thank you! Hope you enjoy the rest of the park.

(a whisper)

Number VI the Lovers? More like Eighty-Six the Losers.

(at normal volume)

Well, what love means to me is comfort- sanctuary. There’s someone who makes you feel so comfortable that you don’t even think when allowing them to see your true self.

You are bound to them as we are all bound to one another,

But you are completely free.

An awww from the dwindling crowd. Very few were left now, save my friends and a few other larger groups. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Darren had made a tactical retreat during one of the waves of departures. I was, at this point, dead-focused on Abigail in the interests of not having another moment like before.

ABIGAIL

This is your present- you have, I hope, at least one mademoiselle or damoiseau with whom you are willing to be completely vulnerable with.

Someone who you’d allow to see the gaps in your armor.

Someone who, perhaps, can know the secrets in your past, eh?

Abigail nudged me. I smiled at her as enthusiastically as I could and likely tensed my neck to stop myself from looking around.

ABIGAIL

Alright this is taking longer than I expected. Let’s wrap this up, shall we?

ABIGAIL

Your future, a smudged mirror reflecting all that you have been and all you are now, synthesizing the image of what will be using the alchemy of the self.

Pick a card.

Abigail fanned out the cards in front of me. I reached forward to pick a card from the middle, when she dropped the deck to the ground right in front of me.

ABIGAIL

Actually? Let the card pick you. This is very tiring. (to the crowd) Not so tiring that I won’t be willing to do other readings- 10 dollars per reading, once again!

Well?

I looked at the cards on the ground- improbably, all of them had their backs facing up meaning none of the cards were visible to be chosen actively. The backs of the cards had an artist’s rendition of a trellis, latticed into a number of small diamonds, with green vines reaching up like fingers. There was no pattern in the pile of cards, either, so I just counted eight cards and picked up the eighth.

I turned over the card. On the front of the card was an armored horse. Heraldry was draped over its back instead of a seat or a rider. The heraldry was a series of repeating hourglasses.

But inside the horse’s helm was a horse’s skull. The image made it look like only the horse’s head had rotten away, as if it was changing into a skeleton head-first.

And, emblazoned on a scroll at the top of the card, was my fate

XIII- Death.

In a reversal of what had happened before, I could feel my entire body going cold.

ABIGAIL

What’s the prognosis, Violet?

I turned the card towards her. In my memory, my hand was shaking.

Abigail reached into a pocket in her dress and pulled out a pair of big round glasses duct taped at the bridge, like the kind some comical nerd in an ‘80s movie would wear. And she took the card from my hand, looking at it closely.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

ABIGAIL

Hmm. Very interesting, but….

Please tell me I’m not going to die please tell me I’m not going to die please tell me I’m no…..

ABIGAIL

You’re probably not going to die. Probably want to after this reading though, right? Eh?

I was silent. My eyes wide, and I could feel tears in my eyes. I panicked for a moment, knowing that if the tears left their point of origin they would potentially smudge my makeup and end this game of Violet and mine. I don’t want the game to end. At the time, I told myself the reason was that if we got caught I WOULD actually die tonight.

ABIGAIL

Let me let you in on a secret- no fortune teller worth your trust will ever tell you you’re dying.

If they do that, they’re just trying to sell you crystals or incense. There’s no profit in telling you that you’re dying unless they can sell you salvation.

But…..we’re all cheating death when you think about it.

We change constantly so that the fate biting at our heels can’t find us,

And THAT, my very nervous-looking friend, is what Number Thirteen means. You’re going to change. And changing is a bit like dying too- the person who walks away from this park will be fundamentally a different person than who walked in.

And from a certain point of view that means the person you were when you came here will die tonight.

And this, with your future, ties everything together.

You have secrets, Violet. You’re hiding something from the people around you.

But there are people you can trust. People who you can tell those secrets to. People who love you.

(I tried to imagine Violet but all I could see in my mind was Darren. I cursed my mind for being so inert)

ABIGAIL

And in finding that home in the hearts of those who love you….it means you’re going to change.

And that change will be chaotic and scary,

But change comes for us all

Memento Mutatio

Nos Omnes Transvectia

Amen.

I looked at Abigail and saw the firelight glitter on her eyes. I swear it looked like she was about to cry. She smiled enigmatically, then waved me back over to the crowd.

As I walked back, I held my arms close to me like I was freezing, trying to hold in the last amount of warmth left in my body.

Abigail let out a deep sigh, and tried to sit on a large stone on the side of the stage closest to me. The stone shifted and unfolded to reveal that it had been another girl this entire time. The ‘rock’ we had seen previously was a long grey cloak that had been draped over her body.

Blair, as the third witch was called, was wearing an outfit that I could best describe as that of a cartoon cavewoman. Thin leather coverings over what parts would be objectionable to parents and boots (almost moccasins really) with fur on them. On her head was a crown with antlers, and on her wrists were wicker bracelets, her makeup was cracked and pale white with black tears drawn running down her face.

BLAIR

WHO SO DARES DISTURB MY SLUMBER

I SWEAR TO THEE THY DAYS ARE NUMBERED

Abigail waved.

ABIGAIL

Hi, Blair!

I’m going to step over to the side here and Blair will do a little dance for you- WHOA A CONTORTIONIST?

Some people started gathering again at the suggestion of an absurdly flexible attractive young woman.

Violet grabbed my hand and started trying to pull me away.

I looked back at Abigail, who had looked back at me,

And I silently mouthed the words thank you.

She shot a thumbs up back.

And as our friends and we moved away from the Witches^3 I could hear ‘DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU WOULD NOT LIKE IT DONE TO YOU’ growing quieter before all that could be heard was the ooh-ing and ahh-ing of the crowd as I assume the Blair Witch turned herself into a pretzel.

ACT TWO SCENE TWO

Meanwhile,

Darren Lear was walking through the Autumn Market, a series of tents set up by various artisans in the area lined up in a row on the way to the food area. Multiple displays with people making necklaces and amulets out of beads. Some with semi-precious stones that had been tumbled to a level of smoothness that they felt inexplicably good to hold in the palm of your hand. There was one with a man with a ponytail, whose hands were more than slightly dirty, selling chainmail clothing and accessories that he had made with those hands himself. There were even a few places set up for the purchase of fake weapons of wood and plastic mainly intended for children. All of the above, in Darren’s estimation, was overpriced.

Darren was not interested in any of this.

Darren was thinking.

Pondering a good many things, but mainly wondering why he was there. He did not usually come to events like this, and he was beginning to remember why that was. Hordes of people walked to and fro around him, making him intensely nervous. He had been worried that his attempts to avoid this kind of anxiety had distanced himself from the people he thought of as friends, never being invited to anything and sensing what he believed was discomfort. His best friend, Sebastian, especially, acted like two different people depending on the day.

Most days, they were fairly close. They would text one another and share thoughts and jokes. It sometimes felt, to Darren, like Sebastian was following him around like a needy puppy. But on others it felt like Sebastian was more interested in social politics and clowning off than any of that. The effect left him confused, and the evening to this point did not do anything to dispel this confusion.

Ultimately he was able to synthesize that he was there to prove that he could spend an evening out with his friends and to find out what exactly was going on with his friend but, again, it was strange. Sebastian had, more or less, completely ignored him. While they were watching the Witches, for instance, Darren had attempted to appeal to one of their running jokes by whispering to his friend, but Sebastian was focused entirely on the show.

And then Sebastian’s sister Violet, with whom Darren had had next to no interaction whatsoever, had looked dead at him before turning redder than the setting autumn evening sun.

Suddenly, Darren’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone crying.

Sitting by the edge of the food court was a man with his head in his hands. His hair, a silvery grey, flowed out from the back of his digital mask. Darren thought for a moment that he could not remember seeing any adult man cry. He must have seen such a thing, but nothing came to his mind while searching.

Now, Darren has this habit- he could not allow a person to suffer in solitude. Of course he would respect a person’s boundaries if he checked on them and they did not wish to have company, but he would always at least ask someone if they were alright. It’s how he met Sebastian to begin with, so the thought was fresh in his mind.

‘Sir, are you alright?’ Darren put his hand on the aged wooden picnic table on the side opposite the weeping elder as if to ask if he could sit as well. The man looked up from his hands. He had a kind face, wrinkled by some years- but not as many as his hair would suggest. Large bushy eyebrows that arched not one bit from the scars of anger sat just above warm olive colored eyes, and face was adorned with a well maintained silvery goatee.

‘I think so, stranger. I was overcome with emotion for a moment’ he nodded in consent and Darren sat down across from him.

‘Are you having a good evening?’ It’s one of those questions that most people would immediately give a positive response to, because nobody wants to put a damper on someone else’s day. But Darren pursed his lips and tilted his head upwards in thought for a moment. The old man, who Darren had started calling ‘The Wizard’ in his mind in absence of a name, let out a friendly chuckle.

‘It’s a weird one. It beats staying in my room playing video games, but’

‘But?’

‘I had to get away from the crowd for a minute. And I’ve got some…..weirdness in my life’

‘Don’t we all? I prefer smaller bouts of theater myself, too. To make this number of people move for artifice and entertainment is tiring.’ The Wizard rested his left hand on the table and used the other to cradle his beard.

‘My name is Darren, Darren Lear’ he offered his hand to the Wizard ‘And you are?’

‘You really don’t….’ The Wizard paused for a moment searching Darren’s face for recognition ‘You really don’t! I’m Art- Just Art now’ he smiled, a gesture Darren returned.

‘Are you here with family or friends, Art?’ Darren might have thought of an old man at a themed park alone as creepy, but in the moment it was only just curiosity.

‘My family is here, but I’m not here with them. My son is here on business. He…’

Art paused and tried to hold back another silo of tears.

‘Art?’

‘I’m here because I don’t really know where else to be. I finally bit the bullet and decided to move on from the longest chapter of my life and I feel…..oh so aimless.

I guess I was hoping I could regain some of the fire of my youth by being here.

I was hoping that I could be reminded of the wonder that drove me out into the world in the first place.’

‘How’s that working for you?’ Darren never knew how best to respond when older adults felt hopeless like this.

‘I’m so worried. I left a lot of business unfinished, friend’

‘You sound like a ghost!’ Darren laughed kindly ‘I read somewhere that nothing ever ends. So all business ends unfinished, all we can hope for is closure’

‘Wisdom. I wish that my son had a perspective like that. Adrian had expected to continue my work, bless him, but…’ Art looked around him to make sure there was no chance that he would be overheard ‘He’s not very good at it, and he was already so angry. So cynical. I fear that in trying to encourage him to not take the easy path I only made it worse.’ He moved to cover his face again to cry ‘I haven’t abandoned him, I want to help, but not with this. Not like that’

‘Hey…’ Darren’s voice softened even further ‘I’m sure you’ll figure out how to support him in your own way.’

‘You are kind. I only hope it doesn’t take me too long. I was blessed to find someone who I know can continue the work. I just hope that my colleagues and our customers can see in her what I see.’ he paused, but Darren could see the firelight glittering starlike in Art’s eyes

‘Have you ever met anyone so strong and so kind but so untested? Someone capable of such great things, but who only needs a chance to learn that for themselves?’

In truth, Darren did not think he knew anyone like that. He shook his head, but his mind drifted to his friend.

‘I know she’s ready for the responsibility, but I don’t know if she’s ready for those who are not ready for her. It’s so easy to lead someone so genuine into a situation that is against their interests…

I’m sure it will be fine. Thank you for listening, Darren. I feel much better now. You mentioned a weirdness. Perhaps I can provide some perspective.’

‘It’s just my friends acting weird. Like I have this friend. He’s the entire reason I’m here, but we haven’t shared more than one or two words since we got here.

And this isn’t the first time. It’s like. It’s weird. And then at the first show, this….it’s weird. I have no idea what’s going on.’

‘It can be hard to understand people.Some of us only ever show our true faces in private. And even those of us who are genuine shift ourselves depending on the company.’

‘I’m really worried that some kind of trick is being played on me. Like I’m walking into a prank.’‘

‘Perhaps it is not right of me to suggest this, but if you believe there to be subterfuge,’ Art took a moment to scratch the skin just underneath his goatee ‘you have two options. You can try talking to your friend or you can try finding out the truth in a way that feels safe to you. Eavesdropping for instance.’

‘Wow’

‘Yeah, probably not a good plan. You seem like a good man, especially for your age. I don’t think your friends are trying to hurt you, but if you can’t get that out of your head and you don’t feel like you’ll get a straight answer? Well,’

‘No, Hunter! I need to talk with my sister for a moment. Just, look through the market. I’ll text you when we’re done’ Sebastian ran quickly, Violet’s hand in his, to the food court and chose a picnic table on the other side of the area from Art and Darren.

Darren turned his head towards them and nodded at Art.

‘Well then you have a choice.’

‘What choice is that?’

‘I recommend either the bushes’ he nodded towards a well, kept hedge just off the side of the food court. Definitely close enough to hear Sebastian and his Sister talk, but getting there would be tricky ‘Or the banner’ looking at a deep crimson banner showing a classical Dragon- perhaps a Wyvern, actually- curled almost into a circle. In its teeth was a rose, which Darren thought funny: must be a small dragon. But the banner was tall enough that Darren would be completely hidden behind it.

‘Thank you, Art. I hope that everything works out for you’

‘I’m sure it will. Everything does, as the story goes on.’

And Darren walked, his face angled slightly away from his targets, toward the banner.

Art could do nothing more than smile, and take out his phone.

He scrolled briefly through his contacts to one marked Abigail, and tapped the screen to bring up the keyboard.

You were right on the money. It’s showtime.

Thanks for the help.

It might take some swiftness to make this next part work, Abigail.

Please call me Tara.

When the scene is done, maybe. Get to places.

Places.

___________________________________________________________________

Tara put away her phone, checking around her to make sure that Morgan was not watching her. It was verboten to have phones out as character actors within the park.

Then she went back to picking up her cards, putting away two unique cards before haphazardly stacking the 75 identical ‘death’ cards and putting them in the crown royal bag where she kept her cards when they weren’t in use.

Some time earlier- just before Jasper’s shift greeting the guests began- when he had pointed out the twins and their friend group, Tara hadn’t understood-

‘What about them?’

‘What about them?’

‘Anything strike you as….odd? Like especially the two at the front they’re…..’ Jasper had moved his hand to allow Tara to finish his sentence.

‘They’re….’

‘You’re hopeless.’

‘What?’

‘Aren’t like half of your little friend group trans?’

‘Oh! Are you sure?’

‘Dude. I’m never one hundred percent certain about anything. But this whole thing? Gender.’

‘Okay okay okay. Thinking.

Thinking.

Thinking.

Alright, thank you Jasper. I have to get to work.’

But now the whole thing seemed awfully clear. It would be a task, and not even she could know the variables at play, but she knew enough to set things in motion.

Tara stopped briefly by her Fortunetelling tent to make sure the sign stating that her exhibit was closed was on display, and to put her cards back where they belonged.

Then she went towards the market to start phase two of the plan.

In the market, Sebastian and Violet’s friends had formed a small caravan- bouncing from tent to tent and looking at the wares only briefly as their banter was more important.

Tara was able to find them basically instantly as a result- Hunter specifically was incredibly loud.

She made a beeline directly towards Joel and bumped into him- he practically jumped out of his skin, looking back at Tara wide-eyed.

‘You….’ Joel said, but clearly had not planned anything further to say.

‘So sorry, my guy’ Tara replied, pleadingly.

‘Know what? It’s fine- you’re good. Just startled me, is all.’ Joel put his hands up and turned away.

Tara absconded to the tent at the very end of the Market, which had tarp walls to keep the wind out.

‘Hey Tara. What are you up to?’

‘Heyya Frankie- just have to send a message really quick, can’t let the boss see me.’ She took out Joel’s phone, which she had swiped during the collision and thanked her lucky stars that it was a slightly older phone, one with a sliding keypad, which she slid open- opening the messenger app in the process. If it had been a smartphone with a lockscreen, she would have been in trouble.

Or perhaps not.

The messenger screen was opened to a contact named ‘Bash’

And the message she had intended to write and send herself was already written. She thought for a moment about how nervous Joel must be

And chuckled- She definitely would have been overdoing it with poetics. Either way she pressed send.

__________________________________________________________________

‘Sebastian’ walked away from ‘Violet’ rapidly, fists and jaw clenched- eyes darting all around her.

She had to make sure that no one was watching. She had plans of her own

And she was terrified that her idiot brother had already foiled them.

Ping a message notification lit up her Brother’s phone- it was from Joel.

She didn’t stop to think about whose phone she had, honestly. She didn’t care.

‘Can we talk? I’m kind of confused about a few things, and I need to work it through. Please?’ At the end of the text was a heart emoji.

That was the only part that Tara had added.

Places for Act Three. Curtains.