The chimes hanging over the front door jingled, and Magda glanced up from the Harlequin romance she was reading behind the counter. Over the top of her bifocals, she watched two girls enter her store, alternately tapping on their smartphones and talking with each other.
The girls appeared to be teenagers. One was blonde and the other brunette. Judging by their matching white polos and modest, tartan plaid skirts, they were students at St. Teresa’s Academy down the street. Some girls would occasionally drop in after class to look at the crystals, oils, candles, charms, and other talismans that lined Magda’s shelves. Most of the time, they just came to look. Once in a while, they bought. Some had been known to shoplift. Magda decided to see what these two intended.
As Magda shuffled across the store, Astro skittered past her with a “Meow.” He was good company but always underfoot, a hazard at her advanced age. “Shoo, you stupid cat,” she said. She approached the girls. “May I help you?”
“She wants her fortune told,” the brunette replied, pointing at the blonde.
“You do?”
“Yes, please,” the blonde said.
“Why?”
“Who cares?” the brunette retorted. “Besides, if you can tell the future, shouldn’t you already know the answer to that question?” She smirked at Magda.
Before Magda could reply, the blonde intervened. “I’m trying to decide where I should go to college. There are so many choices and decisions to make. I’m overwhelmed. Would you please help me?” She smiled at Magda.
Magda had her doubts about the girl’s motives but set them aside. She tried to remember what it was like to be this girl’s age. That had been more than 60 years ago, long before her hair had gone gray, her skin began to sag, and her joints started to ache. Still, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she recalled the hormones, the anxiety, and the uncertainty. Besides, she could use the money.
“Very well. Follow me.”
She guided the two girls toward the counter at the back of the store. To the right of the counter were the stairs up to her apartment. To the left was a curtained doorway, through which she led the girls into the reading room. The windowless space had a single lamp that hung low from the middle of the ceiling over a circular table, around which sat four wooden chairs. A green baize cloth covered the table, and a crystal ball sat in the middle of it. The sounds of Main Street faded, replaced by a deep hush and a whiff of incense burning out of sight. In the reading room, Magda told fortunes, held séances, and performed other mystical services.
“Performed” was a good word. She used the same act she once did as a circus carny, without the constant travel. Now, she had a regular clientele who wanted advice and guidance based on what was in the stars, the cards, or the medium of their choice. Madam Magda was happy to oblige. She was not making a fortune – the pun made her smile – but she earned enough, along with her Social Security, to pay the bills with a little left over.
For the most part, Magda let the client’s desires guide her insights and advice. In essence, they paid her to tell them what they wanted to hear. She had learned people did not like to pay for bad news. She depended on repeat business, so the future was always bright in her clients’ worlds. Well, it almost always was. Some clients so annoyed or otherwise displeased her she would forecast doom and gloom until they were afraid to return.
Magda replaced Astro in a chair facing the curtained doorway. The blonde sat to her right, and the brunette sat opposite Magda.
“A basic reading is $25,” Magda said.
“What a rip-off,” the brunette snapped. The blonde opened her backpack and pulled out a wallet from which she extracted $25. Magda noticed her driver’s license.
“Thank you, Tiffany.” Magda tucked the cash into a fold of the peasant blouse she was wearing.
The blonde’s eyes grew wide. “How did you know my name?”
“Magda knows all and sees all. Now, how would you like your fortune told? Shall I read your palms? Maybe Tarot? Maybe the crystal ball?”
Tiffany elected to have her palms read. Magda went through the full production, starting with the heart line on Tiffany’s right hand and ending with the fate line on her left. She led the girl to believe she would attend a private school close to home. Tiffany would graduate with honors and land a well-paying job in her field of study. Somewhere down the road, she would also meet and marry a handsome man with whom she would have two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. Alas, it would not be her current boyfriend. That was probably unfair to David, as Tiffany called him, but Magda knew every fortune needed a blemish, or the client would believe it was too good to be true, which it was.
When she finished with Tiffany, Magda turned to the brunette. “Would you like your fortune told as well?”
“No. I’m actually saving my money for college. I’m only here because of her.” She nodded toward Tiffany as she crossed her arms and frowned at Magda.
Tiffany reached into her backpack and pulled out another $25, which she handed to Magda. “It’s okay, Jess. I’ll pay for it. I want to know what your future holds, too.”
Jess uncrossed her arms, reached out, and tapped the crystal ball in the middle of the table. “Let’s see you work that thing.” She re-crossed her arms.
“Very well.” Magda got up and walked over to a switch on the wall. She dimmed the light and returned to her seat. She held her gnarled hands over the globe and began to move them above and around it. As she did, her right foot activated two switches on the floor. One caused a faint glow to emanate from the ball; the other caused a swirling smoke to appear inside. Tiffany stared at the ball, her eyes growing bigger with each phase of the process.
Jess was less impressed. “Nice night light. What else does it do?”
Magda ignored the jibe and decided this was one client she did not wish to see again. She concentrated on the crystal ball. “I see you taking a trip.”
“What kind of trip?” Jess asked.
“A plane trip. It involves a flight.”
“Oh,” Tiffany said, “maybe you’re going to Europe!”
“Don’t be stupid. Where would I get the money to go to Europe? What else do you see in there?”
Magda continued to stare at the crystal ball. Sometimes, the smoke suggested certain shapes, like watching fluffy clouds on a summer’s day. When it did, Magda would use them as inspiration to be more creative and work in the images. This time, though, was different. She could swear she was seeing actual images through the smoke. They appeared black and white and faded in and out quickly. The flickering images behind the glass reminded her of an old television she had owned in the Sixties. Magda rubbed her eyes with one hand, thinking she must be seeing things, but it made no difference. The images continued to flash under the glass.
“I said, ‘What else do you see in there,’ lady?” Jess asked.
“Can’t you see?” Magda responded, as surprised by the girl’s question as she was by what she saw. She leaned forward to get as close to the ball as she could. Her nose was almost touching it. “I see an old suitcase. Now, there’s a star, a shooting star, moving quickly. I see a plane taking flight. Now, the plane is a train, and the train has jumped the tracks. A rail is missing. There is a crash. In the wreckage, there is a foot, and beside the foot is a body, a body in a casket.” Magda took a deep breath. “Now, the images are repeating themselves.”
Magda looked up at the girls. Tiffany’s eyes were wide, taking it all in. Jess’s eyes just rolled upward, and she huffed, “Right. What is all that supposed to mean? I want my friend’s money back.”
Magda looked back down at the crystal ball. The light still glowed, and the smoke still swirled, but there was no sign of baggage, stars, planes, trains, feet, or caskets. Whatever it was, the moment had passed, killed by Jess’s skepticism. Magda sighed and tried to recover the initiative. “What does it mean? It means you are going on a trip, a short trip. Maybe by plane or train or both. But the trip will end badly. It will be a disaster, either figuratively or literally. It may even end in death, your own or someone else’s.”
Tiffany grabbed Jess’s arm, but Jess shook it off. “What about the shooting star? You forgot about the star, you old bag.”
Magda straightened up, pushed her chair back, and stood. “The star portends the future. What is written in the stars or in the future, no one can say for certain. Only you can decide.” She pointed an arthritic finger at Jess. “I advise you not to travel for a while. If you do, I cannot be held responsible. Now,” she put both hands on the table and leaned over, glaring at Jess, “As to the money, your friend paid to have your future told. I told it. If you don’t like it, that is not my problem. It is your problem, and it will not be your only problem, unless you get out . . .now!”
The girls jumped out of their seats and made a beeline through the curtains and out the front door. Magda hobbled as far as the door and smiled as they hustled down the walk and out of sight. She doubted she would see them again, which was just fine with her.
A few hours later, Magda closed her shop for the day. When everything was secure, she climbed the stairs to her apartment.
The stairwell was steep and narrow, and the lone light was burned out. The stairs themselves were well worn from decades of use, and Magda gripped a slender handrail on her right to steady herself as she climbed. Near the top, Magda remembered she had left her novel on the counter. She turned to retrace her steps. As she did, the telephone rang, and Astro darted past her, down the steps. In that moment, Magda tripped. She reached for the handrail and missed. She plunged, head first, downward. She knew what was happening and could do nothing to prevent it. The fall happened quickly and in slow motion at the same time. She did not stop until she hit the floor at the foot of the stairs, a sickening crack punctuating the fall.
The telephone rang again, but it sounded distant to Magda, as if the noise was fading with each successive ring. The light seemed to be fading, too, and as Magda faded with it, her own words came back to her: a trip, a flight, missing rail, the foot, death. She took her last breath with a faint smile as she realized she really had seen the future, and it was hers.
The girls appeared to be teenagers. One was blonde and the other brunette. Judging by their matching white polos and modest, tartan plaid skirts, they were students at St. Teresa’s Academy down the street. Some girls would occasionally drop in after class to look at the crystals, oils, candles, charms, and other talismans that lined Magda’s shelves. Most of the time, they just came to look. Once in a while, they bought. Some had been known to shoplift. Magda decided to see what these two intended.
As Magda shuffled across the store, Astro skittered past her with a “Meow.” He was good company but always underfoot, a hazard at her advanced age. “Shoo, you stupid cat,” she said. She approached the girls. “May I help you?”
“She wants her fortune told,” the brunette replied, pointing at the blonde.
“You do?”
“Yes, please,” the blonde said.
“Why?”
“Who cares?” the brunette retorted. “Besides, if you can tell the future, shouldn’t you already know the answer to that question?” She smirked at Magda.
Before Magda could reply, the blonde intervened. “I’m trying to decide where I should go to college. There are so many choices and decisions to make. I’m overwhelmed. Would you please help me?” She smiled at Magda.
Magda had her doubts about the girl’s motives but set them aside. She tried to remember what it was like to be this girl’s age. That had been more than 60 years ago, long before her hair had gone gray, her skin began to sag, and her joints started to ache. Still, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she recalled the hormones, the anxiety, and the uncertainty. Besides, she could use the money.
“Very well. Follow me.”
She guided the two girls toward the counter at the back of the store. To the right of the counter were the stairs up to her apartment. To the left was a curtained doorway, through which she led the girls into the reading room. The windowless space had a single lamp that hung low from the middle of the ceiling over a circular table, around which sat four wooden chairs. A green baize cloth covered the table, and a crystal ball sat in the middle of it. The sounds of Main Street faded, replaced by a deep hush and a whiff of incense burning out of sight. In the reading room, Magda told fortunes, held séances, and performed other mystical services.
“Performed” was a good word. She used the same act she once did as a circus carny, without the constant travel. Now, she had a regular clientele who wanted advice and guidance based on what was in the stars, the cards, or the medium of their choice. Madam Magda was happy to oblige. She was not making a fortune – the pun made her smile – but she earned enough, along with her Social Security, to pay the bills with a little left over.
For the most part, Magda let the client’s desires guide her insights and advice. In essence, they paid her to tell them what they wanted to hear. She had learned people did not like to pay for bad news. She depended on repeat business, so the future was always bright in her clients’ worlds. Well, it almost always was. Some clients so annoyed or otherwise displeased her she would forecast doom and gloom until they were afraid to return.
Magda replaced Astro in a chair facing the curtained doorway. The blonde sat to her right, and the brunette sat opposite Magda.
“A basic reading is $25,” Magda said.
“What a rip-off,” the brunette snapped. The blonde opened her backpack and pulled out a wallet from which she extracted $25. Magda noticed her driver’s license.
“Thank you, Tiffany.” Magda tucked the cash into a fold of the peasant blouse she was wearing.
The blonde’s eyes grew wide. “How did you know my name?”
“Magda knows all and sees all. Now, how would you like your fortune told? Shall I read your palms? Maybe Tarot? Maybe the crystal ball?”
Tiffany elected to have her palms read. Magda went through the full production, starting with the heart line on Tiffany’s right hand and ending with the fate line on her left. She led the girl to believe she would attend a private school close to home. Tiffany would graduate with honors and land a well-paying job in her field of study. Somewhere down the road, she would also meet and marry a handsome man with whom she would have two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. Alas, it would not be her current boyfriend. That was probably unfair to David, as Tiffany called him, but Magda knew every fortune needed a blemish, or the client would believe it was too good to be true, which it was.
When she finished with Tiffany, Magda turned to the brunette. “Would you like your fortune told as well?”
“No. I’m actually saving my money for college. I’m only here because of her.” She nodded toward Tiffany as she crossed her arms and frowned at Magda.
Tiffany reached into her backpack and pulled out another $25, which she handed to Magda. “It’s okay, Jess. I’ll pay for it. I want to know what your future holds, too.”
Jess uncrossed her arms, reached out, and tapped the crystal ball in the middle of the table. “Let’s see you work that thing.” She re-crossed her arms.
“Very well.” Magda got up and walked over to a switch on the wall. She dimmed the light and returned to her seat. She held her gnarled hands over the globe and began to move them above and around it. As she did, her right foot activated two switches on the floor. One caused a faint glow to emanate from the ball; the other caused a swirling smoke to appear inside. Tiffany stared at the ball, her eyes growing bigger with each phase of the process.
Jess was less impressed. “Nice night light. What else does it do?”
Magda ignored the jibe and decided this was one client she did not wish to see again. She concentrated on the crystal ball. “I see you taking a trip.”
“What kind of trip?” Jess asked.
“A plane trip. It involves a flight.”
“Oh,” Tiffany said, “maybe you’re going to Europe!”
“Don’t be stupid. Where would I get the money to go to Europe? What else do you see in there?”
Magda continued to stare at the crystal ball. Sometimes, the smoke suggested certain shapes, like watching fluffy clouds on a summer’s day. When it did, Magda would use them as inspiration to be more creative and work in the images. This time, though, was different. She could swear she was seeing actual images through the smoke. They appeared black and white and faded in and out quickly. The flickering images behind the glass reminded her of an old television she had owned in the Sixties. Magda rubbed her eyes with one hand, thinking she must be seeing things, but it made no difference. The images continued to flash under the glass.
“I said, ‘What else do you see in there,’ lady?” Jess asked.
“Can’t you see?” Magda responded, as surprised by the girl’s question as she was by what she saw. She leaned forward to get as close to the ball as she could. Her nose was almost touching it. “I see an old suitcase. Now, there’s a star, a shooting star, moving quickly. I see a plane taking flight. Now, the plane is a train, and the train has jumped the tracks. A rail is missing. There is a crash. In the wreckage, there is a foot, and beside the foot is a body, a body in a casket.” Magda took a deep breath. “Now, the images are repeating themselves.”
Magda looked up at the girls. Tiffany’s eyes were wide, taking it all in. Jess’s eyes just rolled upward, and she huffed, “Right. What is all that supposed to mean? I want my friend’s money back.”
Magda looked back down at the crystal ball. The light still glowed, and the smoke still swirled, but there was no sign of baggage, stars, planes, trains, feet, or caskets. Whatever it was, the moment had passed, killed by Jess’s skepticism. Magda sighed and tried to recover the initiative. “What does it mean? It means you are going on a trip, a short trip. Maybe by plane or train or both. But the trip will end badly. It will be a disaster, either figuratively or literally. It may even end in death, your own or someone else’s.”
Tiffany grabbed Jess’s arm, but Jess shook it off. “What about the shooting star? You forgot about the star, you old bag.”
Magda straightened up, pushed her chair back, and stood. “The star portends the future. What is written in the stars or in the future, no one can say for certain. Only you can decide.” She pointed an arthritic finger at Jess. “I advise you not to travel for a while. If you do, I cannot be held responsible. Now,” she put both hands on the table and leaned over, glaring at Jess, “As to the money, your friend paid to have your future told. I told it. If you don’t like it, that is not my problem. It is your problem, and it will not be your only problem, unless you get out . . .now!”
The girls jumped out of their seats and made a beeline through the curtains and out the front door. Magda hobbled as far as the door and smiled as they hustled down the walk and out of sight. She doubted she would see them again, which was just fine with her.
A few hours later, Magda closed her shop for the day. When everything was secure, she climbed the stairs to her apartment.
The stairwell was steep and narrow, and the lone light was burned out. The stairs themselves were well worn from decades of use, and Magda gripped a slender handrail on her right to steady herself as she climbed. Near the top, Magda remembered she had left her novel on the counter. She turned to retrace her steps. As she did, the telephone rang, and Astro darted past her, down the steps. In that moment, Magda tripped. She reached for the handrail and missed. She plunged, head first, downward. She knew what was happening and could do nothing to prevent it. The fall happened quickly and in slow motion at the same time. She did not stop until she hit the floor at the foot of the stairs, a sickening crack punctuating the fall.
The telephone rang again, but it sounded distant to Magda, as if the noise was fading with each successive ring. The light seemed to be fading, too, and as Magda faded with it, her own words came back to her: a trip, a flight, missing rail, the foot, death. She took her last breath with a faint smile as she realized she really had seen the future, and it was hers.