The Fight Within (33 page)

“Hi, how may I help you?” the lady asked, tossing her raven hued hair over one shoulder.

“You do, uh, readings I guess you call ’em?” He pointed toward her front door where the sign was located. It advertised her specialties.

“Yes, I do.” She shot a seemingly perplexed glance over in Treasure’s direction, one she found a little unnerving. It seemed as if the woman was looking
through
her, trying to gauge her, pluck information without her consent. Before another second of time had come and gone, the woman’s features smoothed into pleasantness once again. “Do you want one together or separately?” She kept her eye on Treasure while she asked the question, as if she alone were the deciding factor.

How did she know we were together? I’m way over here… Do we look like a couple? Maybe we do…

Treasure wondered, and wondered hard, but she kept her lips firmly sealed. The woman turned away, allowing her to take a deep breath and relax, but it was a fleeting thing, for soon she shot her another look, this one paired with a tilted smile…and sending chills up her spine.

I don’t like this!

She wanted to pull Sean’s arm, tug at his wrist and lead him toward the front door and out the damn thing before this got any weirder. The occult, psychic readings, love spells, potions and money brews were just meaningless and trivial, a waste of time and money, insulting to one’s intelligence. She looked at the psychic once again, bunching her collar in a tense grip. She needed something to hold onto for her heart was beating faster, harsher and harder. The woman was doing things to her…

I bet she is one of those damn gypsies…a fake. It is crazy for me to get worked up about this; she’s just playing a game.

“What do you think, Treasure?” He looked over his shoulder at her, wearing a crooked grin.

“I uh, well, you go ahead, Sean. You can go first.”

He nodded as she drew closer to him, then to the woman, his expression rather serious. “How much is it?” He slicked his wallet out of his pocket and thumbed through a thin stack of cash.

“Twenty dollars for one, thirty dollars for couples.” There was that damn ‘all knowing’ look again. She smiled pleasantly at Treasure, then took the cash from Sean’s grip. They followed her into a back area to a small wooden table covered with a thin white tablecloth, fringed at the ends with long, clear beads. Upon it sat a deck of colorful cards, and serene, Celtic type music played in the near distance.

“Please, have a seat.” The woman pointed at a chair on one side of the table, while Treasure made to stand against the wall closest to the damn exit, intending to simply watch from a bird’s eye view. “Do you not want to sit next to your lover?” The woman cocked her head just so as she pointed to the free chair beside Sean.

The man got comfy, unflinching at the words or odd situation in the least! It was almost as if he’d been through the strange ass drill before, knew the rundown. Paranoia birthed in her mind, growing, multiplying like a damn calculator, but she still came up with zilch.

“My lover?” she said lamely.

The woman simply nodded, as if nothing she’d said was unusual. Treasure had no interest in causing a scene, so she forced herself to walk back over to the pair and sit in the chair next to Sean, who pulled at his slightly baggy jeans, exposing a dark blue pair of Nikes that looked as if they’d come straight out the box that very morning.

“So.” The woman smiled as she began to shuffle the deck of cards, her long yet delicate fingers moving like flashes of light. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Madeline. What are your names?”

You’re the psychic, you tell us…

Treasure rolled her eyes, unable to keep her skepticism at bay one second longer, and delighted in her internal humor. However, comedy hour grew suddenly stale. The woman’s smile faded, as if she’d read her damn mind in that instant. Treasure nervously averted her gaze, clutching her purse as if it somehow offered protection against the bizarre world she’d entered.

“I’m Sean and this is Treasure,” he politely offered as he leaned slightly forward, really getting into it.

She stared at him in disbelief. Who knew? Sean was rough, rugged, reality driven and unfiltered; yet, here he sat, looking completely comfortable being part of such an outlandish spectacle.

“Nice to meet both of you.” The woman focused on the deck of cards, then placed it in front of Sean. “Okay, cut the deck, Sean.”

Without a moment of hesitancy, he broke the deck into halves.

“So, you are gonna tell me my future?” His lips curved slightly upward.

Treasure smiled smugly and crossed her legs. His tone had an air of incredulity…
Yes,
he was
finally
coming back, joining her in her land of skepticism.

“If you’d like.” The woman appeared unfazed as she placed several illustrated cards in front of him. When she’d finished, they were laid out in the shape of a cross, which only made Treasure impossibly more uncomfortable. “Interesting…”

Oh, here we go…

This time Treasure simply looked away, unsure how much more she could stomach of this dog and pony show.

“I know this is supposed to only be your reading Sean, but your lady friend is coming through. You two knew each other in a previous life, and have crossed paths before your initial meeting,” the psychic began.

Of course we have…and if we give you fifty more bucks, you will lift a curse from us, right? Let me guess, Sean’s great great grandfather stole some land in the lush, green hills of Ireland and now the entire family is doomed to eat potatoes for the rest of their lives unless you burn some candles on his behalf for seven days and seven nights. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this nonsense!

“Really?” the man questioned.

Treasure sucked her teeth and glared at Sean. His animated green eyes glowed with curiosity as he seemingly drowned in pools of mystery and hopefulness all at once.

Oh my God, he is really drinking this shit in! Sean! Come back to me! Don’t stare into the light, it’s a trick!

Treasure rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair, losing herself with frustration. Crossing her arms over her breasts, she watched the man she loved turn from a raunchy mouthed prince into a tiny brained frog right before her eyes.

Ribbit.

“Yes, you see, you both are connected, and on a journey together,” the psychic explained. “This tarot card right here is the ‘Lovers’.” She tapped it with her finger. The illustration depicted a scantily clad man and woman in a romantic embrace. “It is in your past, which is why I stated you two knew each other before.”

Sean slowly turned toward Treasure, but kept his thoughts to himself before turning back to the lady.

“Then, right here, you have the ten of cups…”

“Why is that devil card there? I don’t like that.” Sean leaned in even closer, His dark brows bunched as he slurped down the rest of the mess the woman was serving.

“It’s not what you think.” Madeline smiled ever so slightly. “In
this
particular case, it means that something was holding you back, something was imprisoning you from reaching your true potential, until recently. You see here? You’ve broken out of that.” She pointed to a series of cards, one of which showed a child dancing under the golden sun while riding a horse, and another, which exhibited a smiling family celebrating under a vast rainbow covered in golden chalices.

Sean nodded, then let her reach across the table and grip his hand.

“For lover readings, I use my own empathic abilities. I read palms, vibrations, crystals and cards. It helps give me a full perspective.” She stared into Sean’s eyes so intensely, clasping his hands as if about to ask him something quite serious.

“You work with your hands…very rough, calloused, but your mind is sharp,” she offered.

Sean nodded in agreement. The woman turned his hand over, palm up, and then burst out laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” He presented a kinked smile on the end of a light chuckle.

“You have a great, supportive family. I like them!”

Sean nodded once again. Treasure scooted a bit closer to him, listening carefully to the nonsense that poured out of the woman’s mouth.

“Your family is
very
important to you, Sean. You’ve been acting, how shall I say it, ‘out of character’ for quite some time though.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well.” She shrugged. “You’ve been avoiding people…”

The man visibly swallowed, but offered no explanation.

“You are usually quite sociable. People look forward to your presence at parties, and things of that nature. You are also a very ‘in your face’ sorta guy.” The woman chortled, mirth in her dark eyes. “You are physical, too…you like sports…baseball, basketball, football.”

“Yeah.” He nodded in agreement. “I like just about all of ’em.”

“I see you doing one though, like it is a skill of yours. There is emphasis on it.” The woman squinted ever so slightly, as if concentrating with all of her might. “I see you moving your legs…fast and hard, wow!” She leaned back in her seat, as if seeing something playing out on a big screen. “Powerful! Your arms move too, but especially your legs… Yes, you move your legs a lot.”

“Yeah! I kick box…that’s right.” He now looked completely drawn in, bought and paid for. Treasure couldn’t believe her damn ears. “I’ve been doin’ it for years now, but have been in martial arts since I was a kid.”

“Yes,” the psychic nodded as she continued to stare down at his palm. “You’ve kick boxed though since about age nineteen, right?”

“Eighteen…close enough!” He laughed garishly.

“I age people by their moon signs.”

“But I never told you my birthday.”

“You didn’t have to. Anyway, you’re one year older under your moon, and you’re wise for your age, always have been. That’s why you like older women…”

She shot Treasure an ‘all knowing’ look, made the woman slump and melt away in her seat like a heated ball of wax.

“Oh my God, man!” He laughed. “You’re right, you’re pretty damn good. I never really believed in psychics. Well,” he said bashfully, “I mean, I was never sure is all.”

The woman nodded in understanding.

“Oh please,” Treasure hissed. “I can’t stand one more second of this. Sean, she can look at us and probably see I am an older than you! And yeah, you work with your hands. They’re calloused from sports more than anything! I hold your hand all the time and I can feel it! All of these generalizations.” Treasure slammed her palm on the table, causing the furniture to shake. He and the charlatan both looked at her with total astonishment, as if she’d cursed them both to Hell, damned them to spend eternity with demonic forces right then and there.

“Sean, do you mind if I pause with you and address your lover?” The lady smiled kindly, hooking her intonations on the last word, making it stick like warm gum underneath a school desk.

“No.” He shot Treasure a ‘shame-on-you’ glance, his eyes hooded and heavy from judgment…

“Before you
address
me,” she rolled her eyes, “I’ve got a question for you. Why do you keep saying that?” Treasure stared the woman in the eye, wanting answers that were clear and concise for a change.

…How’d she know? Tell me!

“Lover? Because you
are
his lover. You were his lover
yesterday
, you are his lover
today
, and you will be
tomorrow
…”

Treasure swallowed. Hard.

“And you’ve always behaved this way, and will continue to do so until you learn your lesson.”

They glared at one another, their energies gravitating toward each other as some strange dynamism loomed between them, almost like a kindred soul—but that kindred soul was angry, insulted, and tired.

“Give me your hand.”

Treasure hesitated, then made her move. Madeline’s fingers ran up her digits, before she flipped her palm over and stared into her warmed flesh, scrutinizing it like a page from a textbook.

“You’re a very hurt soul, and you know this to be true.”

Treasure offered nothing, but she could see Sean drilling holes in her direction, his expression full of exploration and unsaid questions paired with silent declarations. He wanted ‘the goods’ on her, and his countenance proved he believed he
just
may receive them. All she could offer was a harsh swallow as her throat constricted, grew tight from the episode. Once again, she regretted entering the establishment. She was an educated, sensible woman with children to take care of, yet here she was, with Sean, in a place filled with strange trinkets and an even more outlandish woman, struggling with her budding curiosity and rationale.

“You’re strong, guarded, protective, upset, holding onto pain that you believed you’d released. You’d made several efforts to cleanse yourself, only to discover there was more and more pain to uncover. You’ve felt disappointed in yourself, like a failure. You’re fighting your own self, too. You care deeply about your family, and I can sense them around you. You have three children and—”

“Two!” Treasure woke from her almost hypnotic daze, happy to correct the swindler. “I have
two
children, that’s it,” she stated smugly, her chin held high and a proud smirk on her face.

Uh huh! Busted!

“Three… I’m
counting
the miscarriage during your failed marriage, too,” the woman corrected sternly.

For a moment or two, it felt as if the world had slowed, paused, stopped, then cracked into a million fragments right below her damn feet. Her heart started beating faster than a professional tango dancer after drinking a Red Bull energy drink. She turned toward Sean. Her lips fell apart in awe, but she couldn’t speak. He gave no words, nor asked for anything in return, either. They simply stared at one another, caught up in the gravity of the intense flash in fractured time.

“Oh God…” was all she could muster before lowering her head and focusing on her lap. Suddenly she felt an arm around her shoulder… Sean’s, giving her comfort for a situation that she’d buried, pushed down deep, and tried to forget.