The Fortune Teller

A Paranormal Story of Love and Tragedy It's a warm summer day in Minneapolis. Two pretty, young ladies are out having fun. They have come to a quaint little street in the historic district to see a movie. They are standing on the sidewalk looking at a sign. They are trying to decide. "Oh, let's just do it, Dix." "No way, Jen, it's a sham." "Well, we won't know until we try now, will we," Jenny pleaded. Dixie put her hands on her hips. "I thought you wanted to go to a movie; that's why we came downtown, remember?" "Well, I changed my mind. It's my birthday, so I'm entitled. Besides, you promised we'd do whatever I wanted, re...mem...ber, Dix?" Dixie was weakening. Her best friend had the moral advantage. It was Jenny's birthday, after all.   They both read the sign again: PSYCHIC READINGS Walk ins Welcome Explore your Past, Present, and Future $50 for 1 hr. $35 for 1/2 hr. Neven Will Greet You (Down the hall on your left) Dixie gave a disapproving look and said, "Sounds ridiculous." Jenny just smiled. She knew she had Dixie in the palm of her hand. "Okay, let's do it!" Dixie said, suddenly enthused, "but only if I can pay. After all,  it is your birthday." They both headed for the door of the historic building. "No way, we split," Jenny said firmly. "I said I'm going to pay, don't argue." "Nope." "Yep." "Nope." "Yep. Yep. Yep!" They entered the building and looked around. "Must be that way," Jenny said, pointing. Down the hall they walked until they found a door with a cardboard sign that read, "Psychic Readings. Walk-ins Welcome." Below it was another paper sign that read, "Be back in five." They could see through the glass that the lights were out. "Looks like we'll have to cancel," Dixie said promptly. "It's only five minutes, relax," Jenny said, still enjoying her birthday advantage. She put her nose to the glass and cupped her eyes. "I see some books and a desk." Dixie nosed the glass and peered into the dark. "I see dead people." Jenny gave Dixie a playful slap on the arm and said, "You’re such a monkey butt." "I can't believe I'm letting you drag me to a fortune teller," Dixie said. "He can't be too good, he couldn't foresee us coming." "Not a fortune teller--a psychic!" Jenny chided. "Whatever." "Let's go have coffee and come back," Jenny said. "Yeah, let's," Dixie quickly added, glad to have a possible escape. They did a quick pivot and they both gasped, "Oh!" Standing behind them was a tall, elderly gentleman dressed in black. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I startled you," the man said apologetically. "Please forgive me. My name is Neven." He stuck out his hand and smiled. Jenny was the first to reach out, heart still pounding from the fright. "Hello. I'm Jenny and this is Dixie." Neven dug into his pocket and pulled out a key. "Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me I'll get the door and we can go in." He unlocked the door and hit the light switch. Even with the lights on the room was still rather subdued. Neven placed two chairs together at one side of the small desk. "Have a seat," he said with a smile. The girls took a seat, both feeling a little nervous. Neven sat opposite them and reintroduced himself. He explained his fee and said that he could not guarantee that he would be able to "connect" with the other side. After a brief exchange of pleasantries he began his reading. "You two have been friends for a long time; since you were little, I believe." “Yes, since we were five," Dixie offered. Neven nodded. "Yes, yes, because I can see you two having fun with each other; I mean, I see you both going out and doing fun things together, right?" Jenny chuckled. "Well, we try." Neven stared intently at a large rock crystal sitting on the desk. "One of you plays an instrument; something like a violin. Um...I'm not sure, a stringed instrument?" "I played the violin when I was in high school," Jenny said with a tinge of enthusiasm. Neven nodded again. "Yes, and she tells me you were quite good, too. Yes, um…Margaret wants to know why you don't practice anymore." Jenny was jolted. She had a grandmother by that name who died ten years previous. "Yes, yes, I know a Margaret; she's my grandmother." Neven placed the rock crystal in the palm of his left hand while his gaze intensified. "Yes. She wants to know why you stopped practicing." Then he chuckled and said, "She's shaking, um...she's shaking her finger at you like this." He shook his index finger at Jenny like he was scolding her. "She says you better start practicing, or else!" Jenny felt a little choked-up; this was more than she was expecting. Her grandmother used to do that very thing: shake her finger and gently scold her about not practicing the violin often enough. Neven said, "She says she's proud of you and that she loves you." He paused momentarily. Then he started again with, "Okay, okay...she's stepping back now. She's letting someone else come through." He paused again and squinted his eyes. "Yes. Yes, a young man is stepping forward to say hello. He says he knows the one on the left." Neven pointed to Dixie. She squirmed a little. Neven continued. "He says he is related to you. I'm getting...I’m getting the letter 'J.' Yes, 'J,' as in Jerry." Dixie's eyes widened. "I had a cousin named Jerry. He was hit by a car when I was...six, I think--no, seven!" She turned to Jenny and asked, "You remember Jerry don't you? I think you met him once." Jenny looked puzzled. "No, not really, I--" Neven interrupted with, "He's saying something about marbles. Um, playing marbles in the driveway. Okay. Yes, playing in the driveway." Neither Jenny or Dixie responded; it didn't ring a bell with them. Neven closed his eyes as though he was concentrating. "He was with you at his funeral; I'm talking in spirit, of course. Also, he was at your graduation. He says he's proud of you and that he loves you." Suddenly Neven’s face went ashen and he moaned a little. The girls were a little frightened by his look.     "He says both of you are going on a trip," Neven said solemnly.  "We're thinking of going to Europe together next summer," Dixie said with some perk. Neven cocked his head like he was trying to hear a voice through the wall. "No, no. It's...it's going to be much sooner. Maybe this week." Neven took on a whole new appearance. It was almost like he was in a trance. The color drained from his face and his arms went limp. The crystal that was in his hand fell to the floor. He just stared blankly at the ceiling like he was asleep with his eyes open. Jenny and Dixie started to feel uneasy; like maybe this was their cue to leave. After an uncomfortable silence Neven continued the reading. "Okay...Okay, I know where to stop," Neven mumbled. "They are both going on a trip but only one is coming back. Yes, only one is coming back." Then he slowly lowered his empty gaze, not looking at Jenny or Dixie, but in between. "I see a heart around the two of you." He paused for a few seconds then repeated, "Yes, a heart. A pink heart. That's the symbol for love, the love between you two." He drew a large heart in the air, still looking in between the two of them. Neven began to regain his composure now. He reached down and grabbed the crystal from the floor and set it on the little desk before them. He placed his hands on the desk, palms down. Then he took some calm, deep breaths and said, "He's pulling his energy back now. Yes, they've all gone." Smiling, he added, "I hope that helps you some." The girls were befuddled and could hardly speak. Jenny opened her purse. "Yes, um...I, um...how much do we owe you?" "Thirtyfive will be fine, thank you," Neven said, lifting himself from the chair. "Let's see...twenty, five, ten, thirtyfive." Jenny slipped the money onto the table. "Well, thank you for the reading." "Yeah, thanks for the reading," Dixie added sheepishly. The girls bolted out the door before Neven even finished saying goodbye. They walked briskly to the front exit into the bright afternoon sun, and then a short distance to the sidewalk cafe and stopped. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jenny gave a big, "Whew!" and said, "What was that all about?" Dixie pulled her sunglasses from her purse. "You got me. That was creepy." Jenny checked her watch and said, "Did you see the way he stared at the ceiling? That was wacked!" Dixie looked halfway down the street to where her van was parked. "Well, we know he was talking crap 'cause we certainly aren't going on any trip; unless he considers going to the mall a trip." "Still," Dixie added, "he was right about some things; like about my cousin and your grandmother. Oh, and the violin too." Jenny reached over and grabbed a piece of lint from Dixie's blouse. "Could have been a lucky guess. Some of these guys have a knack for reading people. I mean, it's like a trick. I think it's called cold reading, or something." "Those are pretty lucky guesses," Dixie countered. "Let's drop it," Jenny said, scanning the sidewalk tables at the cafe. "How 'bout coffee?" "Yeah, sure. And, by the way, you were going to let me pay for the fortune teller, you little sneak!" Jenny rolled her eyes. "Psychic!" "Whatever!" Dixie dug out her keys for the van from her purse and said, "I have to run to the van and get something. And, I'm paying for the coffee." "No you're not! You paid last week." "Yes, I am." "No." "Yes." "No. No. No!" Jenny took a seat and ordered coffee. She dug in her purse for a cig, but the pack was empty. Waving the empty pack, she shouted, "Dixie!" Dixie waved back; she understood: Smoker's lingo for, "I'll be mooching off you all day." Jenny looked across the street to the park. The guy with the two German Shepards was eyeing Dixie. "Men," she thought, "one track minds!" The historic street was not overly busy: a spatter of patrons at the street-side cafe and restaurants; a few strollers in the park; an occasional car on the restored cobblestone street. The movie theatre was next to the coffee shop. The movie they had intended to see had already started. The waitress brought the coffee. It was delicious. Jenny turned around to check on Dixie, but she couldn't see her. "Hurry up, Monkey Butt, your coffee will get cold," she thought, taking another sip. Jenny's mind wandered back to the psychic. She couldn't quite shake off the experience. How could he know about her grandmother, Margaret? and that was weird when he shook his finger, just like his grandmother used to do. Jenny drank almost half her coffee and was getting impatient for Dixie. She turned around: No Dixie. "What the heck is she doing?" she wondered aloud. Concerned, she got up from the table and headed toward the van, half-way down the block. "Dixie!" Jenny yelled. "Dixie!" No response. Jenny walked down the middle of the street, until a car tooted its horn from behind. From the sidewalk she could see a delivery truck parked behind the van, but still no Dixie. Now that Jenny had a clear view she began to panic. Something was definitely wrong, she could feel it. She walked faster toward the van. "If she's still putzing in that damn van she's going to get a kick on her monkey-butt," she thought, ready to be angry. Jenny reached the van and peaked in the side windows. No Dixie. She could see in the sideview mirror the truck driver sitting in his cab. Maybe he saw Dixie? She headed for the truck cab to ask the driver. As she past the rear of the van something caught her eye. She looked to her right. It took an extra second for her brain to register what her eyes were seeing. When she did realize, she gave out a tremendous scream. "Oh, dear, God! No!...no!...no!" Jenny dropped her purse and brought her hands to her face. The truck driver had daydreamed and forgot that his delivery lift gate was still extended. He'd backed his truck up, right into Dixie; she had closed the rear van door and stooped to pick up an envelope she'd dropped. She was halfway up from her stoop when the driver backed up, pinning Dixie at the neck line between the van and the sharp edge of the lift gate. "Oh, please, somebody help!" Jenny screamed, looking around frantically. She was so hysterical it had not yet occurred to her to run and tell the truck driver. By now some people began to gather. A patron at the restaurant ran across the street to the truck driver who was totally oblivious to the scene. He was eating lunch in his truck cab with the windows up, air conditioning on, and the radio blasting. "Pull up! Pull up!" The young man yelled, waving to the driver. Two other young men had crouched under the lift gate to brace Dixie so she wouldn't just fall after the truck was moved. The driver pulled up and Dixie's limp body was gently lowered onto the warm cobblestones. The driver took one look at what he'd done and he threw up. Jenny was shaking and crying out loud, "Oh, Dixie! Oh, God, why!" By now a crowd of twenty people had gathered. Some were crying, some shouting. One guy pulled out some sort of badge and started bossing people around. In the distance sirens could be heard. To make matters worse, the man with the two German Shepards was there too. His dogs were caught up in the frenzy and barking wildly, lunging at bystanders. Amid the barking, shouting, crying, and the sirens, it was utter chaos. Everyone on the street knew about poor Dixie; everyone, that is, except Dixie, who was clearly, and without any doubt--dead, her head nearly severed. The scene began to grow dim for Jenny. Her ears began to ring; then her head went numb. "Where am I," she thought to herself. The last thing she saw was the squad car turning the corner, siren blasting. Then everything went black. Jenny passed out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~§~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ …Five days later. Jenny had just emerged from the plane at the airport when she heard, “Jenny! Oh, Jenny!” It was Dixie’s mother. Jenny had flown to Denver for the funeral. “Hello, Mrs. Hanson.” They met and hugged. “Jenny, it’s so good to see you again. We’ve missed you so much since you moved to Minneapolis.” “Oh, I know, and I’ve missed you to,” Jenny said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Is John here too?” John was her husband, Dixie’s father. “Yes, well, he’s down taking care of the paper work,” Mrs. Hanson said, whose first name was also Dixie. “Paper work?” Jenny said, puzzled. “Yes, for Dixie, you know,” Mrs. Hanson said softly. “We didn’t have a chance to tell you. There was some sort of mix-up at the mortuary Wednesday and they missed the flight. She came on your flight with you." The thought of Dixie, her dearest friend, on the same plane without her even knowing was like a knife in her heart. Jenny’s eyes welled up. Mrs. Hanson saw the pain; she put her hands on Jenny’s shoulders and pulled her to herself. They cried together. The funeral service went well. All of Dixie’s friends came and so did the relatives. The priest conducting the service spoke of Dixie’s joyful, loving spirit and how she always put others first. Jenny had a chance to speak before those in attendance. She conveyed her love so effectively that many wept. She also told a funny story about the two of them when they were still in grade school. It was about the time Jenny was being picked on by the class bully and Dixie walked right up and socked him in the nose. Everyone laughed, some to the point of crying. Jenny stayed with the Hanson’s even though her mother lived across the street. It gave everyone a chance to reminisce and cry and console. It was now the day after the funeral and Jenny needed to leave for the airport to catch her flight back to Minneapolis. She had already said goodbye to her own mother, who was glad to see her daughter, but wished it had not been in such sad circumstances. Dad had passed two years previous. Nobody spoke of the accident that took Dixie’s life. "I wish you'd let me drive you to the airport, Jenny. Why take a cab?" John said, reaching for her hand. "No, no. You guys need to be together, I'll be fine." Jeff, Dixie’s brother, moved the window curtain and said, “Jenny, your cab is here.” “Okay, thanks, Jeff,” Jenny said warmly, putting her hand on his shoulder. “And remember, call me if you want to talk.” Jeff fought to hide the tears. Jenny picked up her suitcase and headed for the door. Dixie’s parents came to the door where they did a three way hug. They all took one last silent look at each other, and then Jenny turned and went out the door. She handed her suitcase to the cab driver who headed for the trunk. The ground was wet, for it had stormed heavily all morning. She was just about to reach the cab door when Jeff ran out of the house yelling. “Jenny! Jenny! We forgot to give this to you,” he said, as he handed her an envelope. “What’s this?” Jenny asked. “It came with Dixie’s things, it has your name on it. We knew it was your birthday so…” Jenny gave Jeff a little love tap on the shoulder. "Thanks, Bud." It was a large envelope with “Jenny” written on the cover. Must be a birthday card, she thought. She slipped into the cab and looked over to her mom’s house across the street. Her mother was standing on the stoop. They waved. Then she looked back at Dixie’s house and had a sudden recollection of the day her own family had moved into the house across from Dixie’s. Mom had walked her across the street and introduced her to Dixie, who was playing marbles in the driveway with a little boy; she couldn’t remember who. They’d been best friends ever since. She peeled open the envelope and pulled out a birthday card. On the cover was a behind shot of two monkeys walking down a path holding hands. Inside, Dixie had written a poem: You know I always say, ~you always get your way But I won’t complain today, ~'cause it's your special day So I must do what you want to do, ~and go where you want to go So here’s two tickets, ~for your damn picture show Luv, “Monkey butt” There were two free passes for the movie theatre paper-clipped to the card. Underneath the poem was taped a small envelope; she ripped away the tape and dumped the contents into her hand. It was a small, heart shaped locket, pink in color. She pried open the locket with her fingernails and held it up to the cab window. Inside were two pictures: Dixie on the left, Jenny on the right. On the back of Jenny’s picture was inscribed the words, “The Half That Makes Me Whole.” The cab driver popped into the driver seat. “Where to, Miss?” “Airport, please.” Jenny looked back to the house and could see Dixie's family watching her through the window. Everyone waved. Then Jenny gasped, "Oh, my!" High above in the sky, Jenny was seeing for the first time a double rainbow. Its radiant beauty was situated directly above Dixie's house. "Something the matter, Miss?" the cabby asked. Jenny pointed. "A rainbow." The driver leaned over to the passenger's side to take a look. "Oh, yeah, it's fabulous. A double rainbow, too. Don't see those much. Say, do ya care if I smoke?" Jenny didn't answer. She pulled the locket chain over her head and adjusted the locket straight. At that precise moment she experienced a profound sense of love and peace. It was one of those singular moments that one never forgets. Drag. Exhale. "My grandmother used to tell me that a rainbow is the light of heaven peeking out when St. Peter opens the gate to let another soul in." The cabby looked in the rearview for a response from the pretty lady in the backseat. Drag. Exhale. Jenny didn't speak. She was thinking of Dixie and the love they had shared. It made her feel grateful to God that she could have been blessed with such a wonderful friend like Dixie. It was true, God had taken her away, but her love was still alive somewhere, Jenny was sure. Wherever she was, Dixie was making new friends, laughing and having fun just as they had. With those happy thoughts she knew, even during her greatest sorrow, that everything was going to be okay. Jenny opened the card with the two monkeys, placed her hand on the picture, and said softly, "Goodbye, Dixie. Love always." Just then a tear rolled off her cheek and landed squarely on the heart-shaped locket. But nobody knew, Except they two, And the good God above. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~§~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Epilogue: Nine hundred miles away in Minneapolis it's a warm, sunny day. Two young lovers are out having fun. They have come to a quaint little street in the historic district to dine. On the sidewalk they stand, holding hands and reading a sign. They are trying to decide.