Octave

Chapter Three

     I probably wouldn't snap out from being dead hypnotized if it weren't for the cat lapping at my feet. Next thing I knew, I was set on a chair, face to face with the stranger on the other side of the table. Under the glow of the flickering light, I could clearly distinguish her face. She grew a white streak of hair covering her bony cheeks, lines and wrinkles ran around her face, which proved that she's either in her sixties, or probably very stressed, or both. Her chin protrudes when she laughs, her nose was a little too wrong for her age, and quickly my mind registered them as undeniable features of a witch. But there was something else I saw-- her eyes sparked with intent. It scared me a bit.

     She grabbed my hand and pressed hard on my palm. She brought it up to her lips, and for a moment there I was thrown aback when I felt her cold breath run through my palms. It struck me-- she was chanting something in Latin. Or it could have been Greek or Chinese, but I'm pretty sure it didn't matter. In an awful unison, the cats growled with her.

     Her halfhearted efforts to convince me went on, but all I could picture was Daphne, impatiently waiting by the car. I looked at my watch; fifteen minutes have passed by.

     "I really should go now," I said with an attempt to pull back my hand from her grasp and snap her soul out from the dead. "My wife has serious patience issues."

     She was too strung out to notice. I hoped it wouldn't take as long as it did Daphne to wring out everything from the store. Her chant went on, and so did the night.

     "Your future holds something dreadful," the old lady blurted out. "If you are not circumspect and bold enough to make the right decision, you will lose everything."

     She paused, then continued. "Be heedful of what comes. There are things so trifling you can't see the grave hiding inside of them. I suggest you take these warnings with forethought; you wouldn't want to face the consequences." She let go of my hand.

     I stared at her. "Did you just read my fortune?"

     She laughed sarcastically and stared back. I could see the gravity in her deep, black eyes.

     "Because I'm pretty sure that's not how you do it," I shrugged, but I could feel the dread slowly creeping in.

     For a second there I thought she was going for a charge. She stood up, slammed her hands on the desk, and sneered. The dead light from the lamppost started flickering again; until then, I never realized we were on a dark alley in Puces de Saint Ouen, not in a witch's den as I imagined it to be. The clouds around the moon dispersed, and the whole place was ablaze with both light and tension.

     "You listen here, young man," she whispered furiously. I could feel the depth growing from her voice, which I could've sworn was not there a minute ago. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to help you here."

     I barely moved an inch. "And by help, you mean?"

     She was going to snap, but she managed to wind herself down. "I'm steering the wheel for you and Daphne, if you don't mind."

     The cats gnarled in amusement, which I found quite disturbing. But that was the least of my concerns now; it struck me that I haven't even told her about my wife's name yet. I wasn't shocked, but I didn't feel impervious, either.

     She sat down in silence. "Your business with Jacques ain't gonna last long, either. Better hope for something fruitful."

     The growls shifted to a concord as I stared in disbelief. A short "what?" was all I could manage.

     I nearly fell. "Wh-who are you?"

     "I can't answer that," she said as she shifted uncomfortably. "$3.00 for additional service hours. You're lucky to have your fortune told for free."