In the palm of my hand

            By the time I had left work yesterday, the sun had already sunk off the edge of the earth and I was schlepping my achy feet back towards my apartment for the day. Around the corner from me is this fortuneteller that I see everyday on my way to work and sometimes on my way back, if I walk the same way. I see her always sitting in same rickety chair by the door, either just inside the frame looking out through the glass when it's cold or raining outside or she's on the sidewalk during the warm, sunny days. She usually waits until I make eye contact with her, then like a shadowy wraith from a Wes Craven film, she lifts one of her hands, palm up, and waves it slowly, in a circular motion moving towards her, beckoning me into her lair. It happens so slowly and fluidly that it almost seems as though she were underwater and I'm always in a trance just looking at her movements. Once I'm able to snap out of my usual stupor I give her a rueful smile and hurry past at speed walking pace. She never says a word but when I break eye contact with her she just rests her hand back on her lap and continues to look off into the distance, or at me, I couldn't say, because I never have the courage to look back at her after I've rejected her services. As I was walking home last night and about to pass her abode, I decided I would go in and give her a try. I was curious to know what this mysterious woman has had to tell me for nearly two years since I've moved into the neighborhood. Maybe she has answers I don't quite even know the questions to.

            It was late in the evening, even for scary fortuneteller woman to be sitting in her chair, looking out by the sidewalk at nothing in particular, so I wasn't expecting to see her sitting in her usual spot when I walked up. Her neon light was still on outside and her chair was still positioned just inside the door, but the closet sized space she had looked eerier than usual without the daylight shining in from the glass windows and I nearly kept on walking. However, I noticed that the back door was slightly ajar and light was seeping through the crack behind it. Apparently, she was still up. So I rang the bell and less than a minute later she was at the door. "Welcome, welcome. Come in and sit down."

It was the first time I had ever heard her speak, but for some reason I wasn't expecting a fluent English, New York accent from Olga. I suppose I expected her to have a thick foreign accent, because she never uttered a word of anything before now and I assumed it was because she wasn't sure if I would understand her tongue. So I was slightly taken aback by this realization. When I walked in and sat in one of the three chairs surrounding a small wooden table with a plump crystal ball at the center, I could see in the back room behind the door. Apparently, the back room was her home and she lived there with a little girl who was standing by the couch, with one of her fingers in her mouth, looking at me with mild curiosity. It seemed that the office space was divided in two and the little room I was in was separated only by a partition that didn't even reach the ceiling. That's one way to shave off your taxes.

            Once I sat down she closed the back door and we were alone. I was hoping she wasn't going to ask me why I was there because I really had no idea why I was sitting in front of her. When she made herself comfortable in the seat beside me she began to tell me the different kinds of readings she offered and I sat listening to the options. I was always curious about tealeaf readings but she didn't mention that one from her list and I knew she did them from the sigh outside. When I asked her about it she was surprised I was interested in that. Apparently, not too many people went for tea-leaf readings, but when she told me it was a whopping hundred and twenty dollars for this "complicated" reading I understood why that was the case and I nearly dropped my jaw on the table next to her crystal ball and bid her adieu. Bummer, I was very interested in those tealeaves. Another day, another scary fortuneteller I suppose. That's when I decided I would just take her up on the thirty-dollar introduction palm reading she offered. I won't loose my rent with that one. Once that was decided, she asked me to put out one of my hands and gave her my left one. She folded my fingers into my palm and asked me to make a wish. I knew exactly what I wanted, and with the power of thought I phrased it in my mind like a prayer and made my wish. Sorry friends, I'm not telling. No way Jose. When my wish was made she opened my palm with her warm right hand and held my hand in hers. With her other hand she traced a long, neon pink, nail along the inside of my palm and told me, without hesitation, that I was going through a lot of change. More change in the last few months than I have experienced in a long time. Hmm, check. Then she asked me if I was thinking of moving in a few months. This question kind of floored me because for the past week I've been contemplating this very thing. In fact I've been stressing out about it because my lease is up in March and I usually get my new contract in November. My rent has stayed the same for the past two years but I'm certain that it will go up this next turn and if it does, I may have to uproot. Check. The next thing she asked me was if I was in a relationship.

"No."

"Have you ever been married?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any children?"

"No." She looked up at me when I said this, as though she didn't believe me. Then she asked me if I had ever had an abortion and I repeated with an assertive "No." You're three for three Olga. But your negatives are outweighing your positives. You're beginning to lose your credibility here.

"You grew up very lonely but you had many people around you."

Hmm. Check. That tends to happen when you grow up in an old world culture with three male siblings and you're the only girl.

"Your mouth smiles but your heart cries."

She's a poetic fortuneteller.

"Have you ever worked in the medical field?"

"Sort of. I wasn't a doctor or registered nurse, but I was a counselor for group home of adults with mental disabilities for four years."

"Because I see you with a white coat."

No, not a single white coat in my closet, just a whole lot of black ones in there.

"2010 was a very difficult year for you."

My eyebrows perked up with this one and my head seemed to nod in agreement at it's own accord while memories of that miserable year came flooding back to me. That year I was living at home with my parents, trying to "find myself." Where I lost myself, I don't know, but it certainly wasn't under the bed. That same year my mother was diagnosed with cancer, my parents lost their house and both of my dogs died. If that sob story doesn't make for a good country song, I don't know what does. 

"There's a man in your life that you're interested in."

"Nope." Again with the look. Why does this woman not believe me? Is it so strange to not be interested in anyone? I just haven't come across anyone that has sparked my interest...in a long time. Apparently, she seems to be confusing me with the typical women who walk in there, hoping to find true love or the teenagers who ask her for love potions or spells.

"You're going to meet someone in four years and you will marry him."

Blank stare.

"You're going to end up with four children."

Eww.

"But you will not give birth to these children."

Hmm. Interesting. I'm not sure that I like this foretelling. What happened to the people who DID give birth to these four children? I do have four Godchildren.

"It's possible that the man that you marry will have these four children."

Now why would I EVER get myself into a situation like that? This woman clearly has me all wrong.

"Are you working on a project? Something to do with writing?"

"Yes!"

"Have you been doing this recently?"

"A few months."

"It will be notable, but you won't write another one."

Hmm. Again, I don't know that I like this prophecy.

"I see two instances where you almost died."

Confused face. Have I almost died before?

"The first time was when you were a young girl."

Hmm. At this point I told her about the premonition I had on my tenth birthday and she shook her head from side to side.

"No. This will not happen." Then she knocks on the wood table for luck.  Why on earth was she knocking on wood? I thought she KNEW for sure that my prophecy was wrong? If she did know then why was she knocking on wood? That's for people who DON'T know what will happen and who HOPE for the best. Really Olga? You don't think so? Because you were right about half of your predictions about me so far. Give me back my thirty dollars dang it!

            Before the reading was over she kept repeating the change I was going through and that what I was doing now was going to effect that change even more so in the next few months. This much I can say is pretty accurate and this memoir has already been a testament to that statement so far. As she concluded the session, she folded my fingers back into my palm and gave my hand a warm little squeeze and a smile, then wished me luck. I was nearly expecting her to knock on wood again but she passed on it this time. In a haze of thought and her words still swimming in my head, I thanked her for the service and walked back into the night. With the neon light pooled around me on the sidewalk, I looked down at my hand, trying to make sense of all that she said, then stuffed my cold hands into my pockets and made my way home, to the only child I never gave birth to, my cat Gizmo. Maybe that much will come true. I could very well see myself the mother of four stray cats and name one Husband. That way I have something to tell people when I need an excuse to slip away. "Oh, sorry to leave so soon. I have to go home and feed my husband. He really likes my tuna casserole and gets a little hissy if I'm not around. Nice meeting you, bye." Hmm, that does have a nice ring to it, better than the alternative anyway.