Fortunes

He was a leathery little man, sulking by the metro station in the 5 a.m. darkness with a deck of cards in one hand and a trembling fist in the other.

“Get your fortune told! Tarot card readings for nothing at all! No charge!” From the looks of it, the small man was a poor old soul who, even after thirty or forty years, never really managed to get two feet on the ground. And so, because she was the only awake soul in a couple square miles to respond to his squealing advertisement, Bessie Mae cut her humming truck engine and, canteen in hand, went to meet the little man.

“Who do you s’pose is gettin’ their fortune told at 5 in the mornin’, sir?  Ain't seen nothin’ but a cockroach this mornin.’”  The man ignored her question entirely.

“You want a fortune?”  he squeaked. His English was broken and his stature was bent.

“If you promise me to quit all that hootin’ and hollerin,’ I do.” With that, the leathery little man shuffled his deck of cards and began dealing them on the sidewalk at his feet.

“I’m so sorry,” he squeaked, leaning down to squint at his cards through quarter-inch thick glasses. “Your family. Something very bad will happen. Three months, your heart will get broken.” He paused, staring at one of the cards intently. “Like glass, it says. Broken like glass. And you will lose money. Lots of money. Oh… you have a job? It says you will lose a job soon.” At that, the man craned his neck upwards towards Bessie Mae, mouth open wide in shock. “Very, very bad fortune.”

After a long sip from her canteen, Bessie Mae let out a good long laugh. “That don’t amount to a hill a’ beans. You plain mad if you think my heart’s goin’a break.”

“Lies, lies, stop telling lies! The cards say you will have bad future, you will! The man shielded his eyes, almost as if Bessie’s humor was physically assaulting him.

“Now I ain’t hurtin’ you, just callin’ you mad. But Jesus been good to me, sir. I’m here to be good to you.” With that, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded fifty dollar bill, slipped it to the old man, and turned to walk towards her truck. With high beams on, canteen situated in the middle console, and radio preaching excitedly, Bessie Mae remembered one last thing.

From her open window, Bessie gave the man a gentle reminder, “Now don’t you forget you promised me to quit all that hootin’ and hollerin,’ sir.”

And with that, Bessie Mae continued towards her sunflower field in the stillness of the early morning.