And it’s the biggest waste of money of all time. Good thing I really saved up this semester.
Wana’s house is a pretty, pink and purple one on South Main Street, trimmed with fake roses, stone toads, and dragonfly windmills. A little dog in a pink sweater yapped in circles around my feet when I opened the door. A girl came forward, hushed the dog and escorted me through the living room—leather couches and a plasma TV—into the back. I imagine the back room was once either a mudroom or a closet, but now it’s a little treasure trove of crap. Incense burned and a tinny waterfall played in the background. Baskets of dusty plastic flowers cluttered the floor, crystals and monoliths lined the shelves, and cheap pictures of Tutankhamen and faux-obsidian busts of other nameless pharaohs congested the dingy walls. There was a murky crystal ball and a framed picture of a giant eye, like the one on a dollar bill. A dish of Technicolor geode slices, fanned out like cookies, was displayed on the table.
Cindy was about 25, wearing a pink velour tracksuit and plaid slippers. I assumed she was Wana’s maid until she sat down across from me and brought out the Tarot cards. She also offered me palm reading, crystal reading, and an aura cleansing, but Tarot is Wana’s (Cindy’s) specialty, and for fifty-five dollars I didn’t want to mess around.
She told me to clear my mind and my heart, and focus on two wishes. Tell her the first one, and hold the second in my mind. “I wish to have a successful career,” I said.
“Yes,” she replied, and began dealing the cards. She put cards in each of the four corners of the table, then dealt fifteen or so more in a tapering Christmas tree. I noticed several cards that said “Princess of…,” “Queen of…,” “Champion of…,” which seemed promising. Instead she started with, “You are a very kind and generous person, very selfless, always helping others.” Wrong.
Then she told me I had been hurt and disappointed in the past, and that I had often felt left behind. Yeah, I’ve been hurt and disappointed. How could she have known this!? “Right, right… that’s probably my mom.”
“Well,” she said, “your mom won’t change. She’s this way because of her background, no?”
“Right, right… but aren’t we all?” Touché.
Then my love life. I’ll find my soul mate at 24—someone who at first I won’t find attractive but who will pursue me relentlessly—and then we’ll get married and have two kids and I’ll die in my nineties. Sounds great. I’ll live forever with this unattractive man and our two ugly kids.
There are papers in my future—papers that require signatures. Good papers. I should ask someone’s help.
I have an upcoming lucky day, March 27th, and an upcoming chaotic day, April 12th.
In July and August, changes will come. Changes for the good. Career changes.
I told her I was a college student. “Ah, I see good, fun journey ahead of you. A trip with friends or family.” Spring Break Massachusetts?
She said not one concrete thing, except for my lucky days, which I might as well have taken from a fortune cookie. I’ve been hurt? I’ll find a soul mate and have a long life? I’m nice and can do anything I put my mind to? Cindy, tell me something I don’t know.
Cindy stared at me from the clear brown eyes in her broad, moon face. “I’m just staring at you to get a sense of your aura,” she told me. She noticed that my aura was down; someone was pushing negative energy my way. She said it was green, and that meant jealousy. Someone—a female—was jealous of me. I should steer clear, and if I must interact with her, make our encounters very brief and don’t let her know what’s going on—keep distant.
She then offered me an Aura Cleansing for the price of $210.
“Yeah… no thanks,” I said. She gathered her cards up.
“Edith, come back and see me when you’re ready.”
Yeah… no thanks.
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