Adelaide Confused (4 page)

“Did you need something?”

I froze.

Turning slowly, the first
glimpse I got was of his filthy work attire. It was comprised of a
T-shirt that had once been white, now a grease stained rag, blue
Dickies with black smudges, and a pair of ass-stomping
boots.

“
Did you need something?”
he repeated, standing in the open doorway. His hair was short, his
skin tan, and I noticed what I hadn’t noticed the only other time
I’d met him. He was good-looking. Strong, tall, broad-shouldered,
his face wasn’t sharp and severe but bold with rounding
curves.

Of course I stuttered
stupidly, having not planned out what I was going to say. “Are you,
uh, were you happy?” I shook my head and tried again. “I mean were
you feeling particularly happy today, just now?”

He didn’t look at me like I
was an idiot, but that was the impression I got all the
same.

“
Nevermind,” I muttered.
Turning abruptly, I ran home.

Francesca called me the
moment my shift started. I knew she would.

“
What did he want?” she
blurted.

“Your number.”

“
Are you serious?” she
breathed.

“No,” I responded lightly.

“
You can really be a bitch
sometimes, you know. So what’d he want then?”

“I really don’t know,” which was the
truth.

She made an exasperated sound. “Well what did
he say?”

“
That’s irrelevant, men
don’t always mean what they say.”

“Reed isn’t like most men,” she defended.

It was like a repeat from
the night before. Irritated, I asked, “Is this all you called
for?”

“
No actually,” she
admitted. “I think I need another reading.”

A few boyfriends ago,
Francesca had been dating a relaxed youngster named Nicky. As a
date, he’d taken her to the Parlor to have her cards read. Things
hadn’t worked out with Nicky, but the tarot interpreter had made a
lasting impression.

So that was why I was
spending my morning with Francesca, toting her back to Madame
Bristow for an emergency reading.

I had to ask, “Francesca, you do know that no
one can actually predict the future, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she scoffed. “It’s just for
fun.”

“
I set my alarm for your
self-indulgence?”

She ignored me and began
giving directions. “Turn off Ocean Boulevard, there, there,” she
chanted, while pointing a manicured finger past my nose.

I’d never actually noticed
the Parlor, though I’d walked Mallery Street many times. It was
squished between two gift shops, a small easel sign the only
advertisement. Perched by the front door, it read:

TAROT CARDS

PALM READING

ASTROLOGY

Walk-ins always
Welcome

“Look, there’s a spot! You’ll have to
parallel.”

“
No can’t do,” I said,
pulling the car in nose first. I popped the curb with my front
right tire, and plopped back down as I straightened out.

“
What the hell was that?”
Francesca asked as she unbuckled and got out.

“I heard that’s how they do it in
Germany.”

“
I heard that’s how you get
a flat.”

“
In that case, you’ll be
buying me a new one. Consider it gas money owed for all the rides
I’ve given you.”

She pretended not to hear
me as she stepped through the door, a bell jingled at our entrance.
The dark narrow hall led to a dark narrow room, equipped with a
reception desk. It was empty.

After a minute of waiting,
I muttered, “You’d think with them being psychic and all, they’d
know when they had a customer.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Francesca
replied.

“
That doesn’t sound like
the comment of a nonbeliever. What happened to ‘it’s just for
fun’?”

She shushed me as someone
approached. Their clacking footsteps echoed out from the hardwood
floor. A small dramatic woman appeared. Her thick black curls were
held back by a bright scarf. Wispy crimson dress and clicking
bracelets completed the ensemble, adding to the image that most
customers would expect.

Francesca turned, saying, “Hi, I don’t have
an appointment, but I was hoping to see Madame Bristow for a
reading.”

The woman had been eyeing
me with no small interest. I chalked it up to the monetary value of
a potential client. She turned in time to answer, “I’m sorry but
she isn’t in today. I’m available for an astrological reading if
that suits you. Or if you prefer, I can set an appointment with
Madame Bristow for a future date.” She rolled her S’s, forming an
accent that didn’t reflect a single nation or culture. She could
have been Asian, but I was guessing Pacific Islander.

“
Astrology, what is that
really? And can you see details with it.” Francesca’s questions
were for show. I knew she wasn’t leaving here without a reading,
the kind didn’t matter much.

The astrologist answered in
somber tones. “With the date of your birth many things can be seen
through the use of celestial bodies. Character traits are the
easiest to chart, but to foresee the future is difficult, details
more so. It will require great effort on my part, and I only do it
for those who are in desperate need.”

“
Yes, I’m interested in
that. Are you free now? I think you’ll find my situation is very
dire.” I almost felt bad for Francesca. She was like one of those
people who checked their horoscope, though they didn’t really
believe it. They did it to feel special, the thrill of hearing all
about themselves, their own possibilities. Why being one of twelve
made the masses feel special, I didn’t know.
“Yes, if you’ll walk down the hallway to room two I’ll be with you
in a few minutes. I must prepare.”

We did as instructed,
stopping before the door marked two. A metallic gold star and
silver moon hovered near the number just in case you weren’t sure
you’d picked the right room. I followed Francesca inside the small
space, a cubicle really.

The walls and ceiling were
a dark midnight-blue, covered in posters and tapestries. The charts
and graphs looked like gibberish, and did nothing to impress me.
There were artful depictions of the zodiac, numerous constellation
mappings, and planetary rotations overlapping one another in
disarray. A table took up half the room. Pushed against the long
wall, it was covered in a heap of canvas and aged yellow
paper.

Francesca sat patiently in
one of the two chairs. I assumed the other was for the astrologist,
so I pressed myself unobtrusively into the corner.

The door opened as our
entertainer arrived. Small but stately, she carried a velvet bag.
Its contents she spread across the paper shrouded table. I
recognized a few measuring tools and the magnifying
glass.

“
My name is Eclipsys.” I
wanted to comment on that, but held my peace. “What is your name
and the exact date of your birth?”

“
My name is Francesca
Black, but it wasn’t always that. Does that matter?” Eclipsys shook
her head and Francesca continued babbling on about her
birthday.

Eclipsys went to work with
her charade. Bending over her papers, she shuffled through,
mumbling, measuring, and checking. The magnifying glass went well
with the image she was trying to establish.

I couldn’t feel any real
interest or effort on her part. She was what I considered
‘emotionally silent’ at the moment. Francesca was a bubble of
excitement, but that would be obvious to anyone with all her
fidgeting. I was both bored and amused, a contradictory mix. But
that was the thing I’d learned about emotions, they were
nonsensical and often conflicting.

Eclipsys stood slowly, as
if her mind was elsewhere, and wandered absently to the chair. She
was a very good actress. “I see freedom and power within you, a
unique ability to live passionately, but without the turmoil of
regret. You easily draw what many covet, a gift, and the center of
your power, but it staunches your potential. A balance is missing
in your life, something essential you’ll need to progress.” She
paused, blinking, as if coming out of a trance.

Francesca let out the breath she’d been
holding.

I continued to keep quiet.
Barely.

“
What’s the thing I need?”
Francesca asked. Becoming slightly frantic, “What’s the thing I
need? Is it a guy? Can’t you look a little more? Maybe you missed
something, it’s really important. I need the details, remember, I
mentioned it’s dire.”

Eclipsys held up her hand,
stalling any further protest. “I saw nothing that indicated dire
intervention. The paths we take are long and winding. You need not
worry, self-discovery is a precious journey.”

Francesca was irritated
now, causing me to suppress a Puckish smirk. I must have made a
noise or something because Eclipsys glanced at me. I had somehow
stirred her interest. As she twisted to face me her body went
rigid, she gasped before a spasm shook her. Her eyes were unseeing
when she said, “You will meet with death.”

It was creepy, and I would
have been freaking out with Francesca if I hadn’t known she was
faking—which she was. I hadn’t felt a rising panic, no hysteria,
not even distress from the astrologist. She’d been cool as a
cucumber throughout the entire performance.

Eyes bugging and
bewildered, Francesca asked, “Does that mean she’s going to
die?”

Eclipsys shook her head
while staring at me, pretending to look on in mute
fascination.

“What is this,” I asked calmly, “revenge on
the skeptic?” I didn’t wait for a response. I left that small dark
place, wood planks creaking beneath my feet as I went.

My car didn’t do air
conditioning, so I had the windows rolled down when Francesca
climbed in. “It cost over fifty dollars to learn you’re going to
die,” she complained.

“
What a ripoff,” I
commiserated.

“
Sterling’s Motel, how may
I help you?” I asked with the phone pressed to my ear.

“
Oh good, you’re still
alive.”

“
It hasn’t even been a day,
Francesca. Some things take time.”

“I’m just not satisfied,” she huffed.

“That I’m still alive?”

“
No, not everything is
about you, Adelaide. I’m not satisfied with my reading.”

“What were you hoping to hear?” I asked,
honestly curious.

She hesitated, then, “I
think I’m in love.”

“
Is this about that nancy
Reed Wallace?” I asked, with no small amount of
exasperation.

“
If you ever bothered to
pay attention to the news, you’d know he’s the most eligible
bachelor this island’s ever seen. He’s like—the biggest
catch.”

“That’s not news, that’s gossip.”

“
Whatever, that’s not the
point. The point is that Eclipsys did say something was missing
from my life. I think it’s Reed.”

“
You’d be Francesca
Wallace. Or you could use a hyphen, Francesca Black-Wallace. No,
that doesn’t have the sexy ring either.”

“I’m serious,” she interrupted. “He’s not
just stopping by his summer home, he’s staying for a while, he said
so himself.”

The office door opened and
I hurried to bring the conversation to its end. “Yes, it’s been
good chatting with you, and I’m sure the two of you will be very
happy together.” I hung up without waiting for a response. She’d
know I had to help a customer.

I prepared to be
professional, but the woman before me didn’t look much like our
normal clientele. And she was radiating all the shades of
hostility. My teeth began to grind in response.

“I’m not interested in a room,” she stated.
“I’m here to speak with a Miss Adelaide Graves.”

I couldn’t imagine why.

“Are you Miss Graves?” She buried her
contempt and bitter resentment beneath a cool professionalism.

“
Yes. What do you
want?”

Her dislike doubled, and
she couldn’t suppress her haughtiness when she spoke. “I’m Mr.
Wallace’s personal aide. I’m here to set up an appointment. He’d
like to meet with you.”

“Why?”

Aggravation, outrage, and,
well, just plain rage followed my question. Maybe she preferred to
do the asking. Or maybe some of those feelings were mine. Reed
Wallace was rapidly climbing my shit-list.

“
That’s for Mr. Wallace to
explain.” She stood primly, staring down at me with her
queen-of-the-boardroom look. With a perfectly fitted suit, feminine
blouse, and sensible heels, she was well put together. Not a glossy
blonde shoulder-length hair out of place.

“I’m not interested,” I said shortly.

She was shocked for a moment, but recovered
quickly to boil and seethe. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“
Nooo,” I said slowly,
drawing out the word. “Did you understand it that time?” If you
thought I wasn’t curious as to why I was being summoned, then you
were wrong. But I had years of practice pushing people away, and
under the circumstances that seemed the proper response. Someone
said jump, and I would say piss off.