The True Accuracy of Fortune Telling

Emma, Solz's girl, has been raving about a fortune teller in town. Apparently, she's the be all and end all of fortune tellers. "She's got, like, loads of celebrities as private clients," Emma says.
"Private clients?" I said over a mojito. We were at the Borderline Club. Solz was playing a set and Julie, I, Michael, Kristy and Paul were sequestered away in a corner at a funky booth with faux-leather seats that has some semblance of privacy thanks to a flimsy red curtain encircling the booth. A dim lamp painted with red tulips shone down on our table, which was crammed full of drinks. "Celebs? Like who?"
"I don't know," Emma admitted. "Like I said, they're private clients. And Madame Zara is a huge stickler for confidentiality. That's why the celebs go to her, because they know she'll never tell on them. But I have it on good authority that she has at least seven A-list celebs visiting her on a regular basis. Cat insists Geoorge Clooney, maybe even Kate Hudson, visits her. And that Jennifer Lopez wants her to be her very own personal fortune teller and travel around in her entourage but Madame Zara turned her down because she says her gifts are intended to be shared with all of humanity."
Julie rolled her eyes at me over Emma's head. We've met Emma's friend, Cat, and she is the ditziest thing to hit the world since Paris Hilton.
"You all have to see her," Emma insisted. "Cat took me for a reading yesterday and she was so accurate. She knew lots of stuff like what I was studying and that I had a musician for a boyfriend."
"Solz?" Julie raised an eyebrow. "Well, he's a DJ but I don't know if you'd call a DJ a musician."
"Close enough," Emma insisted. "And her predictions were really interesting too. She said that I would have a close encounter with a dark man on a moonlit night in the fall and to be careful of his words."
"A dar man on a mooonlit night?" Paul winked at us. "Did you tell Solz that?"
Emma ignored him. "And she said that I would live in two different countries before finally chosing to live on an island for the rest of my life. And that I would have three children."
Well, three children is usually the average, I thought, and Emma was pretty bronzed. Madame Zara might have taken that into account that Emma liked the sun, sand and sea and all that jazz.
"And," Emma said, her voice taking on a darker tone. She was about to reveal something big, or at least a good story. We all leaned closer. "When she did Cat's reading, she told her to be very careful on roads on dark nights. And sure enough, the next day, Cat was driving home from her cousin's on Gabba Avenue, where you all know they never put up enough street lamps and the trees always block out the moonlight, when a dog ran out of nowhere and she had to hit the brakes real hard. Her car nearly swerved into the other lane and into an oncoming Volvo but luckily, she managed to pull the car out of the way. She told me she could have almost died. Imagine! How accurate was Madame Zara?"
I bit my lip and exchange glances with Julie again, who wasn't even bothering to hide her skeptical look. We've seen Cat drive before and she drove like a mad woman. Half the time, she's on the phone or doing her nails or putting on lipstick or something and not even looking at the road. She's come close to losing her license because of this. It wouldn't be hard picturing her in constant almost-accidents. And that piece of advice about being careful on roads on dark nights, isn't that a common piece of advice like looking both ways before crossing the street and making sure you turn off the iron before you leave the house?
"You have to go see her," Emma was saying. "When she took my hand, I had chills up and down my spine. It was amazing."
Julie coughed. "I don't know," she murmured into her rum and coke. "I'm kind of a huge skeptic. What about you, Paul?"
Paul grinned. "When you've lived as long as I have, sweetheart, you don't really care to know what the future holds for you. You think it one day at a time."
Both Kristy and I had to keep from rolling our eyes. No one else at the table but us knew that Paul was 117 years old. But I suppose that when you are pretty much assured of your immortality, you wouldn't care what the future held for you. Your future is pretty much secure.
Emma wasn't giving up easily. "Agatha?"
I swirled a mint leaf in my mohito. "Hmmm," I said. "I wouldn't mind giving her a try. What's her address?"
Julie's and Michael's jaws had dropped to the table. "Are you serious?" Julie spluttered. "You go to a fortune teller?" She leaned forward, almost coming close to knocking over Emma's Long Island Tea as she reached out and put a hand on my forehead. "Are you having a fever? Is this truly my friend, Agatha, Queen of the Skeptics, Empress of Cynics?"
"Watch out, honey." Paul pulled her back before she could do further damage to the drinks precariously balancing on the tiny table.
I shrugged. "Hey, why not?" I said. "Let's give it a go. Try new things. Life's too short not to take chances." I threw that last one out for Paul.
Emma was grinning, openly thriumphant at having made a convert. Kind of. She was scribbling down the address on a napkin. She shoved it towards me. "You won't be disappointed," she promised.
I smiled sweetly, pocketing the napkin. "I'm sure it would be very interesting."

***

"Are you really, really, really serious?" Kristy said the next day as we stood outside the faded red-bricked building.
I shrugged. "Julie's right, I am a skeptic through and through. But then I was a skeptic about vampires and look what I am now. A vampire." I grinned. "Anyway, the real reason why I want to go is, well, if she's an honest to goodness fortune teller, do you think she'd be able to see that I am vampire and that I will live to who knows how long?"
Kristy caught on. She grinned.
I grinned too. "Come on," I said, shouldering my bag and starting for the dark green door with the gold elaborate Z painted on it. "Let's see how good this Madame Zara is."
We pushed the door open and stepped in. Instantly, we were greeted by a cloud of heavy incense.
The room within was dark and small. There were candles everywhere and dried herbs hung on the walls. Bookshelves crammed with all kinds of knick knacks and old junk. Two huge black cats curled up in wicker baskets. They were so still that if I was a human, I wouldn't be able to tell if they were real but as a vampire, I could smell their cat scent and sense their blood pumping through their veins.
Kristy stepped out from behind me. Instantly, both cats came to life. They narrowed their eyes at Kristy and all their hair rose on their backs. They let out simultaneous hisses.
"There, there, Emerald, Antoinette," said a low, husky voice. "It's just a couple of customers. There, there."
The low, husky voice belonged to a woman dressed in black seated behind your standard fortune-teller's table. It was round and covered with a heavy velvet cloth. She didn't have a crystal ball, which was a bit disappointing, but she had a pack of tarot cards half-sheathed in a black satin cloth, a round mirror and a complicated piece of thread and beads tangled up together.
"My name is Madame Zara," she informed us. "You seek my assistance, no?" she gestured with long red and gold talons. "Sit. I will tell you your fortune. Fifty dollars for an individual reading each."
Kristy and I looked at each other. Emma hadn't mentioned that she would cost a fortune.
"What happened to sharing her gifts with the world or some such?" Kristy murmured very softly so only I could hear.
I sighed and cursed Emma and sat down, preparing to kiss fifty bucks good bye. So. Fortune telling was indeed a profitable business if they could go around charging fifty dollars a reading off gullible people like Emma and Cat. I should go into fortune telling too.
"You will get your money's worth," Madame Zara promised. "First I will read your palm, then you will shuffle the cards and I will tell you what they say. Then I will cast the runes. Or rather, you will cast the runes and I will tell you what they say. And for another thirty dollars, you get this." She whipped out a tape recorder from under the table.
Kristy and I stared blankly at it. I had visions of Mafia and gangsters coming in and having their readings taped secretly by Madame Zara and turned over to the CIA. A little extra on the side for fortune tellers.
"For extra thirty dollars," Madame Zara clarified, "I will tape your reading for you and you can replay it at home. Many people find this useful. The reading is long and there are many details to remember."
An extra thirty bucks for a lousy cassette? I'm not even sure I have a cassette player anymore. Maybe Madame Zara should extend her sight a little further into the future and offer to make DVD or MP3 recordings. Anyway, I was a vampire, I remember minor details real easy now.
"Erm, no thanks," I said. "I have a good memory."
Madame Zara shrugged. "It is your choice." she whipped the tape recorder back under the table and cleared her throat. "All right then. We will start. Give me your hand."
I wasn't sure which one she wanted so I just stuck out my right hand. She took it and turned it over so it faced palm up. She stroke my hand slowly, closing her eyes. A relaxed, serene look came over her face. Kristy rolled her eyes at me.
"You have lived through a long, hard life," Madame Zara said. "You have faced many obstacles and because of this you have found it hard to trust people. You are often cynical but this is because you have found the need to put a shield around you, to protect yourself from other people. But when those who persist and are true and honest manage to win your friendship and trust, they also win your unending loyalty."
It was my turn to roll my eyes at Kristy.
"You are creative, faithful and kind-hearted. You tend to be pessimistic. Do not fall into this trap which would keep you from enjoying life to its fullest. You must learn to expect good things too."
I hadn't realised I was shelling out fifty bucks for advice I could get from an agony aunt in the latest women's magazine. Which would have just cost me maybe seven bucks for the whole magazine, recipes and knitting patterns included on the back pages.
"You have also matured greatly because of this. At times, you feel as if you are far more mature than your age group. Because of this, you tend to make friends with people who are far older than you are."
I thought of Paul and tried not to smirk.
"What's the future like for me?" I asked.
Madame Zara traced some random lines on my palm. I could feel the blood pulsating through her hand, her wrist, her fingers. "If you put in the effort, you will suceed greatly in life," she promised. "You will find it difficult to find a man who satisfies you. You will continue to hold out for the perfect man. In the end, the one you settle for will not be perfect, but he will be perfect for you."
"Erm, right," I said skeptically. Whatever that meant.
"You will lead a long and happy life," Madame Zara continued. "Though you might be plagued by colds and coughs and headaches. Always take plenty of organic herbs."
She was a fraud all right. Vampires are eternally healthy. I will never again suffer from cough or cold. Maybe the occaisonal headache from people like Emma and Paul.
"When will she die?" Kristy asked bluntly. I rolled my eyes at her. Trust her to get right to the point.
Madame Zara's hand froze. "You will be plagued by a long illness some time later in your life," she promised. "You will suffer greatly then. But with the help of your friends, you will come through this. And you will live until you are old and grey. I see grey in your future." She waved a hand theatrically in the air and opened her eyes and smiled serenely at me. "And you will have many grandchildren."

***

Half an hour later, Kristy and I stumbled out of Madame Zara's door. We barely made it into the car before we started laughing.
"Many grandchildren!" Kristy howled. "Grey in your hair!"
"I haven't seen any grey in Paul's hair yet," I spluttered. "But you never know. Maybe it'll come when he hits 200."
"Can vampires even have grandchildren?" Kristy asked.
I shrugged. "I doubt it. And who knows? Maybe I'll be some old senile grey vampire in the future and I'd have turned many humans into vampires and they would be my children. I could be Mama Vampire." I smirked.
Kristy laughed. "What about the illness that would plague you?"
"More likely the loss of $50 and the waste of thirty minutes of my eternal life will plague me," I snorted. "That prety much settles it, Kristy. She's a fraud. I half-hoped she would go nuts in the first five minutes and start calling me a demon and turning me out of her door. No such luck."
"Her cats are better at the business than she is," Kristy commented. "They picked up on me right away. Did you see that?"
"Yeah," I said. "They know dog when they see it." Kristy punched me in the arm. "And I bet they don't charge as much as Madame Zara does." I chuckled.