The Fortune Teller
The strings of beads tinkled against each other as I pushed them aside. My palms grew sweaty with the warmth of the tent, and I wiped them on my pants. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I had left my shoes off.
Oh well. I couldn’t go back to get them now.
My cousin had had her future told already: fortune-cookie words about finding love, but not where she expected, and a mysterious stranger with whom she’d find some amazing treasure. She had insisted I get my own future told, and when I had argued, she told me not to step back out of the tent without a fortune.
I blinked the spots in my vision away and searched for the so-called fortune teller in the shadows. A form gradually took shape in the dim light.
His tan skin was darker than his long blond curls, which caught the candlelight and glowed almost ethereally. He didn’t look up when I came in, but brushed his hair behind his ear, revealing a gold earring with a blue jewel hanging from it, and gestured to the seat across the table from him.
My feet remained stuck to the floor, and I stood taking in his fluid movements as he took a pot of tea from its warmer and poured two cups. He took one and held it out to me, and his eyes met mine for the first time When he saw me, his eyes widened, and his lips parted. The cup slipped out of his hand. My feet finally unstuck, and I leapt over to catch it. I was too late, and tea spilled all over his glittering tablecloth.
We both grabbed the cup at the same time, and, as close as I was to him, I could see his eyes were the exact color of the jewel on his earring.
He jerked back as though I’d burned him and dropped his eyes. I looked for something to wipe up the tea, but he waved his hand. “No need. I’ll clean it in a moment.”
I sat the cup down and sat slowly. He said nothing. I ran my fingers through the tassels on the tablecloth and cleared my throat. “My cousin said you read palms.”
“I do.”
I stuck out my hand. “Then read mine, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
He stared at my hand as though it were a large spider ready to bite him if he got too close. Then, without holding it as I’d seen palm readers on TV do, he brushed his fingers very lightly over it, as though trying to touch me as little as possible. I pursed my lips. This was his job. He could at least pretend not to be so uncomfortable.
When the silence grew too much to take, I snapped, “So what’s my fortune?”
He blinked at my hand, then pulled away and looked up, face impassive as a stone wall. “You will seek love through an adventure, but find it closer to home. You will find the treasure you wish for in the hands of a mysterious stranger.” His tone was just as devoid of feeling as his expression. What had made my cousin so excited about him?
I snorted. “Funny, that’s almost word-for-word what you told my cousin. How original.” I shook my head and stood up. “I told her it was just a sham. I shouldn’t have even tried.”
I was just drawing the bead curtain aside when I paused, then turned around. “I’ll help you clean up the tea. Do you have napkins or anything?” I looked around the small tent for anything I could use to wipe it up, but there was nothing.
“I assure you, there’s no need to help.”
I shrugged. “It’s no problem. I’ll just run to the bathroom and get some paper towels.” I looked back at the spill to gauge how many I would need and blinked.
It was gone.
I touched the now-dry tablecloth.
“What on earth,” I whispered. “What did you do?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. And I thought you were leaving because you think I’m a scam artist.”
I folded my arms. “You are a scam artist. And not a very clever one, giving my cousin and I the same fortune.”
“I am not.” His answer was calm, and his eyes, though soft, never left mine. I scoffed, though I shifted nervously. His gaze was disconcerting.
“I didn’t tell you what I really saw because I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. Do you really want to know?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure. What did you see?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I saw you, and me, again and again, for . . . a long time.”
The swords caught the sunlight as they swung and clashed together. The knights were nearly matched, and the crowd hung on their every move. The flurry of movement was elegant enough to be a dance.
The opponents circled one another, and then the shorter of the two lunged forward. The other stepped aside and caught her sword with his. She dropped to her knees, and he swept his sword toward her throat—and stopped.
It was over.
Cheering came from all sides in celebration of the knight who had won this stage of the tournament.
The loser bowed her head in recognition of defeat. She didn’t mind that she had lost. She wouldn’t make that mistake again, and she had seen how the other knight had beaten her. She would practice that move over and over until she was certain she could do it right.
The winner pulled his helmet off and shook out his curls, smiling bright as the sun on his gold hair. He held out his hand and helped his opponent to her feet.
His smile twisted in confusion when she didn’t remove her helmet, but his blue eyes twinkled in merriment instead of suspicion.
She was grateful for that. Her father didn’t know she had entered the tournament, and she hoped to keep it that way. She felt a lady-in-waiting should be able to do more than dress her queen in the morning, but he disagreed.
Then the other knight surprised her and took her hand, lifting it before the audience. They stood like that for what could have been days, hands clasped like old friends in front of the cheering crowd.
The woman kept the flowers clutched tightly against her chest as she searched. Her bare feet and ankle-length skirt rustled through the grass until she came to the stone.
In Loving Memory
She knelt down and traced her fingers over the name cut into the stone.
“I miss you,” she whispered. “It’s–” she sighed. “It’s been a year. I’ve been trying, but—but it’s hard.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do without you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Anyway, I wanted to come see you since it’s—today. I love you.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips and then to the stone, then laid the flowers on the ground.
She was gone a moment later, leaving only a bouquet of red roses and memories.
A Loving Husband and Father
“You’re here! I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”
The woman turned around to face the man behind her with a large smile.
“I didn’t think I was either.” She fingered the black ribbon tying his long hair back. “I’m surprised you’re so dressed up.”
He folded his arms and grinned. “That was the compromise Mother and I decided on. I wouldn’t cut my hair, but I’d dress nice and tie it back.”
“And what did your brother think about that?”
He shrugged. “He couldn’t care less about my hair. Or my clothes. Not even at his wedding.”
She smiled and cocked her head, enjoying just watching him. He put his hand on her shoulder and tapped out the beat of the music playing.
“How crazy would it be,” he asked, “if we just left and went on a walk together?”
Her eyes widened. “But—but shouldn’t we stay?”
“The wedding’s over,” he pointed out. “And there’s just an hour or so left of the reception.”
“But what about your brother?”
“He suggested I ask you,” he answered with a grin.
She chewed her lip and tried to keep the smile from creeping onto her face. “Ok. Should we tell anyone?”
He shook his head and leaned forward. “It’s more fun to sneak out.” He took her hands and dragged her, laughing, outside.
They started down the dirt road that led to the edge of town. She took her hair down, carefully removing every pin and tucking it into the small bag hanging from her wrist.
“How many pins does it take to hold your hair up?” he asked with a laugh.
She shook her head. “Only about a hundred.” She combed her fingers through her hair in search of any stragglers. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
She tilted her face up, enjoying the wind and the stars. A few minutes later, they arrived at a stream and the walking bridge that crossed it. His fingers slid between hers as they crossed the bridge. They stood at the side and looked down at the night sky reflected in the water.
Finally his voice broke the silence. “I didn’t ask you to dance at the reception. Would you dance with me now?”
Her shining eyes and bright smile were all the answer he needed. She kicked her shoes off, and he took her hands, and they danced alone in the silence, under the stars.
“I’m tired,” the little boy said as he trudged along beside his parents. “How much farther?”
“It’s not too far,” his father assured him. “C’mere.” He scooped the little boy up onto his shoulders. “Is that better?”
“Yes!” he chirped.
“I bet you can see a lot from up there,” his mother said.
“I see trees and trees and more trees, but I don’t see a waterfall. Are you sure it’s here?”
“I’m sure.”
The little boy chattered on as they hiked until the waterfall came into view and he was rendered, for a moment, speechless.
“You like it?” his mother asked as she ran her fingers through his blond curls, so much like his father’s.
Eyes wide, he nodded. “Can I swim in it?”
“Not today,” his father said. “It’s a little cold right now.”
“We’ll come again some other time,” his mother promised. She pulled out her camera. “Here, you two stand in front of the waterfall. I’ll take a picture.”
A stranger came and tapped the mother on the shoulder. “Would you like a picture of everyone?”
“Yes! Yes, thank you!” She handed off the camera and stood in front of the waterfall as well, wrapping her arm around her husband.
The three made such a lovely picture.
The hospital was busy, but in the room where two elderly figures sat, it was almost silent; the only noise the steady beep of the heart monitor.
The man took the woman’s hand in his and squeezed it tightly. She didn’t wake up.
She looked peaceful, though. A slight smile on her face as she slept. Maybe she was having good dreams.
He brushed the hair out of her face and spread it gently on her pillow.
“What am I going to do without you?” he whispered.
His fingers brushed the wedding ring on her hand, and he smiled as he remembered the day he had put it on her.
His blue eyes were dimmed now with age, but no less full of emotion as they filled with tears. He leaned close and pressed his lips against her forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, then whispered in her ear, “see you in the next life, my love.”
“So?” my cousin asked when I stepped outside of the tent. “Seems legit, right? You’re glad I made you go, right?”
I shook my head, letting my hair fall into my face, and hid my trembling hands in my pockets. “Nope. Still think he’s a conman.”
But despite my fear, I couldn’t help but glance back at the tent as we left.
Who was that man?