“No,” Melody said, “I’m not going in there.  I don’t believe in this gobbledygook.  It’s a scam.”

             “Tarot has been around for centuries,” Rachel retorted.  “If it wasn’t real, it would’ve died out years ago.  Come on, Mel, it’s your birthday.  This is for your 30th birthday which is a big deal.  Okay?”

             “Oh, all right.  If it means so much to you, I’ll do it, but I won’t believe anything she tells me.”  She pushed her friend through the open flap of the tent.  “But you’re going first.”

             Rachel laughed and disappeared inside.  Since the reading took about 15 minutes, Melody wandered through the grounds of the Renaissance Festival.  She and Rachel came every year and always had a blast.  This was the first year a tarot tent had appeared.

             Fifteen minutes later, she stood at the tent and waited.  The flap opened, and Rachel stepped out into the bright sunlight.  A smile radiated from her face.  “Oh, Mel, she said I’m finally going to get that promotion I’ve been waiting for.  Isn’t that wonderful?”

             Melody frowned.  Rachel had been passed over three times in the last three years, and now this charlatan had raised her hopes again.  “That’s great.”

             “Now it’s your turn.  She’s waiting for you.”

             “All right.  Here goes nothing.”  She pushed the flap aside and stepped into the dark interior.  She blinked several times trying to adjust her vision.  A table sat in the middle of the room.  A crystal ball sat in the center of the table.  A crystal ball?  Melody choked back a laugh.  How hokey!

             She walked over to the table and pulled out a chair and perched on the edge of it.  Only then did she look at the old crone who sat opposite her.  Eyes as black as obsidian stared at her from a face etched with a million wrinkles.  The eyes seemed to bore deep inside her.  A feeling of apprehension washed over her.

             “You are a non-believer,” the old woman said.  Her voice was low and gravelly—and accusing.

             Taken aback, Melody nodded.  “Well, yes I am.”  She felt compelled to add, “Sorry.”

             A shrug of boney shoulders was the only response.  “I am Madame L’Normand.”  She picked up a deck of cards, then held them out to Melody.  “Please cut the cards.”

             Melody took the cards.  To her surprise, her hands tingled at the touch.  What the—?  She selected a few cards, put them on the bottom of the deck, then handed them back.  As Madame L’Normand dealt two cards, Melody watched her.  When the old woman turned up the third card, she pursed her lips, then glanced at Melody.  She mumbled a few unintelligible words, then shook her head. 

             Finally, Madame L’Normand spoke.  “You will soon meet someone...a man...he will be your one true love.  He will have hair of gold and eyes of blue.”

             Melody choked back a sarcastic comment.  She’d already insulted the tarot reader with her skepticism; she didn’t want to do it again.  The old woman definitely believed in the cards.  After a few more inane predictions, Madame L’Normand announced the session was over.

             After thanking her for her time, Melody reached into her pocket for money.

             “There is no charge...for you.”

             Surprised, Melody stared at her.  “But I—”

             “No.”  Madame L’Normand stood and walked out the back of the tent.

             At a loss for words, Melody left the tent.  Rachel met her with a question on her face.  “Well, how did it go?  What did she say?”

             “Madame L’Normand wasn’t too impressed with me.  She called me a non-believer.”

             “Madame who?”

             “Madame L’Normand,” she repeated, “the old woman with the black eyes.”

             “I didn’t see anyone like that.  My reading was done by a young red-haired girl.”

             “Well, maybe Madame L’Normand was her mother.  I don’t know, but she was kind of creepy.”

             “But why?  What did she say?”

             “What she thought I wanted to hear.  She said I’d meet a new man, my one true love, and he’d have blond hair, blue eyes, yada, yada, yada.”

             “Oh, Mel, that’s wonderful.”

             “Rach, blond hair, blue eyes?  I’ve been there, done that—and divorced him.”

             “Oh, that’s right.  Rick had blond hair and blue eyes and…”

             “And he was an unfaithful, terrible husband.  I don’t want another husband.  I’m not even sure I want another man in my life.”

             “You don’t mean that!”“Maybe.  I don’t even know myself.  Come on, let’s go have a grog...or two.”

*****

             The next morning, Melody awoke to a pounding headache.  Oops—too many grogs?  She climbed out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen.  Coffee!  She needed coffee.  Once it was brewed, she poured herself a cup and wandered out onto the balcony.  The bright sunlight drove her back inside.

             She glanced at the clock.  Eleven o’clock?  She’d not realized how late it was.  The people in her apartment complex were giving a meet-and-greet to a new tenant, and she’d agreed to make a cake.  With a groan, she headed back to the kitchen.

             Two hours later, she stood at the door of the new tenant’s apartment, cake in hand, and knocked.  She wasn’t crazy about these get-togethers but felt obligated to attend them.  The door opened, and a large rotund woman greeted her.  “Melody, I’m glad you could make it.  Come on in.  You can put the cake over there on the table.  I’ll introduce you to Brad, the new tenant.”  She glanced around the room.  “I don’t see him right now.”

             “That’s okay, Barb.  I’ll meet him later.”  With a smile, she ambled over to the table and sat her cake alongside the other desserts.  She gazed at the food.  At least, she’d eat good today.  She wandered around the room, stopping to greet people she knew.  A row of pictures lined the mantle, and she stopped to study them.  A very old, ornate picture frame grabbed her attention, and she picked it up—then gasped.  Madame L’Normand’s face stared back at her.  Her fingers trembled.

             “That’s my grandmother,” a deep voice said from behind her.  “Kind of scary, isn’t she?”

             She whirled to face the speaker, then gasped again.  The blond haired, blue-eyed man smiled at her, a smile that sent goose bumps racing down her arms. 

             “I’m Brad, the new guy.”  He held out his hand, and she shook it.  The goose bumps continued over her entire body.

             “Hi, I’m Melody.  Tell me, is your grandmother still alive?”

             “Nope.  She died about ten years ago.  Why?”

             Music blared from the kitchen, and she caught the lyrics of the Monkeys’ tune “I’m a Believer.”  She smiled at Brad.  “Just wondering.”

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

I’m a Believer