Fortunate Peril [FICTION]

As a rule, I don’t seek out the local fortune teller. I have been known to laugh at her declaration that she can tell the future. Wouldn’t she live someplace besides the rundown blue house on Main Street if she could tell the future? Wouldn’t she have known her sister was going to run off with their inheritance and her fiancé on their twentieth birthday? A real psychic wouldn’t have been blind-sided by something everyone else in the county knew about. 

But even when you want nothing to do with hucksters and snake oil salesmen, they somehow find their way to you. They must enjoy the challenge. Phyllis the Psychic brings her act to me in the produce section of the grocery store. 

I didn’t notice her because I was too involved in my pursuit of the perfect cantaloupe. Between sniffing and knocking and assessing the coloring, a semi truck could have driven by without causing me to raise my head. Phyllis refused to be ignored. She grabbed the cantaloupe from my hands and replaced it with another.

“This is the one you want, dear.” She says as if we didn’t go to high school together.

“Thank you,” I frown as the aroma I have been searching for wafts over me from her selection.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” She turns away but turns back quickly, taking my hand as I pull it away from the cantaloupe I placed in my cart.

“Um.” I try to take my hand back.

She clutches my hand desperately. Her eyes roll back into her head. A low hum emanates from deep in her throat.

“Please let go of my hand,” I hiss, trying to stop the hard sell before it begins.

“Shh. The spirits want me to tell you something.”

“Phyllis, I barely have money for this melon.” I mutter and offer a friendly smile to a couple who have stopped to gawk.

Realizing their attempts to feign disinterest in our conversation have failed, they shuffle toward their next destination.  Phyllis still doesn’t let go of me, but her eyes roll back into their normal position. She leans in until her nose almost touches mine. Her breath smells of lemons and peppermint.

“Don’t insult me. I never asked you for money. The spirits want you to know two things.” She pauses for emphasis waiting for my encouragement. “First, you will finally find your soul mate. Second, you will lose something you love soon after.”

I roll my eyes and finally reclaim my hand. “So I will find the love of my life and then lose him, probably to another woman?” I spit out scornfully, realizing as the words leave my mouth that I have picked the wrong way to express my disbelief.

“You’re cruel…” She fights back tears as she turns from me.

I sigh and return the cantaloupe to the display. I don’t deserve it. I look up and find that members of the audience had doubled back just in time to see the real show. I lower my head, keeping my eyes pointed at the floor as I beat a quick retreat to the door. I stop abruptly as my cart bounces off of something.

“Oomph!” A deep voice exclaims as a man sinks into my line of vision, clutching his knees to his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” I sink to my knees at his side, fully aware that the blood has rushed to my face. “Are you okay?”

He grunts something unintelligible. I stay on my knees at his side as a crowd gathers around us. Soon the doors are completely blocked by rubberneckers and would-be helpers. The store manager finally pushes his way through the crowd. 

“Move along. Move along. What’s going on here?” He addresses me as the crowd disperses.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going and ran into this gentleman with my cart.” I reply sheepishly.

“She sure did.” The man agrees through gritted teeth.

As he slowly uncoils amidst sharp intakes of breath, the manager kneels down to help him. “That smarts, doesn’t it, son?”

“A little bit.” With a little help, he manages to stand up.

“I’m so sorry.” I reach out to take his other arm as the manager steers us away from the door.

He accepts my arm with a look of trepidation. “Watch where you’re going.”

The manager continues to lead us toward the back of the store. “I’ll let you borrow the stockroom for a few minutes to work this out. Anything to keep you from blocking the entrance to the store.”

I murmur my thanks.

The manager pulls out two folding chairs for us and rushes back out to supervise his kingdom of canned goods and essentials.

“Are you feeling any better?” I ask as the man raises his pants leg to inspect his knees. 

Reassured to find no broken skin, he offers me a weak smile. “I think it will bruise, but I should live.”

“Glad to hear that. I am so sorry.” I take a breath an ask the inevitable. “How can I make this up to you?”

He looks up from his knees to take a long look at me, assessing whatever reparation has come into his mind. “As I am sure you have guessed, I am new to town…”

I hadn’t given it much thought. “It is a small town…”

“Maybe you could tell me where the doctor is,” he grins at me, “Or a good place to have lunch?”

“The diner is always good. We have a couple of fast food places near the highway.”

He ponders this. “Should we take this conversation to the diner?” He glances around the storeroom. “This doesn’t seem like the right place to get acquainted.”

I stare at him for a moment, confused why he would want anything more to do with me after I tried to break his knees with a shopping cart.

He grins. “What can I say? I like dangerous women.”

~~~Self-fulfilling prophecy or nothing more than coincidence? ’Tis the season for the spooky, strange, unexplainable, and terrifying.~~~