Chapter 14 #2
“His gambling. Whatever happened was related to that, right?” Taking in Hena’s surprised expression, Irum sighed. “I knew,” she said. “My parents did too. They’ll deny it if you ever ask them, but he’d skimmed money off them when I was in high school. I’d hear the fights.”
It seemed Nasir’s gambling problem was the worst-kept secret there was.
“He swore he was clean,” Hena told her. “He’d given me no reason to doubt his word.”
“Hard to trust an addict, though, right?”
Hena flinched at Irum’s harsh tone. “He wasn’t—”
“He was.” Irum’s eyes grew moist. “Sometimes you have to call things what they are. It pisses me off sometimes. How everyone refused to face facts, indulging him like they did, forgiving him each time he fucked up. It led to everything getting worse.”
Her words landed like a punch. Because by “everyone,” Irum included Hena too.
Which was fair. Each time Nasir vowed to do better, promised he was done, she allowed herself to believe it.
What if she’d put her foot down the first time she’d learned of his addiction?
How different could things have been? Maybe he could have gotten the help he’d needed sooner.
Maybe things wouldn’t have gotten as bad as they had.
A bell chimed. A woman in a flowing red dress informed them it was time for their session. They stepped into the low-lit home draped in gauzy fabrics and decorated with murals of seascapes.
Mariela was in her fifties, plain-faced but with piercing green eyes and blond hair pulled back in a low knot.
On each wrist, she wore an assortment of bangles.
She had a feathery shawl draped over her shoulders and a cream blouse with a flowing skirt.
She’d leaned so deep into her fortune teller persona, it was like she was cosplaying one.
This must have been what Lulu meant by kitschy.
Mariela pulled out a leather-bound book and a pen, setting them on her table. Clasping her hands together, she addressed the crowd.
“Welcome, welcome. Please take any open seat. I am honored to have you in my home.” She gestured to the woman to her right, seated by an old-fashioned typewriter.
“Colette will be memorializing your fortunes so you may take them home with you as a memento. Now.” She swept her gaze toward the audience. “Who shall we bring up first?”
Colette consulted the notebook. “Maheen.”
Hena’s cousin bounced up to the dais and sat across from Mariela. She placed her palms on the low-seated table.
“What topic would you like insight on, my dear?” Mariela asked.
“I’d love to know about my job. Specifically, what is to come,” Maheen said. “Will we succeed?”
Mariela studied Maheen’s hands. She pursed her lips. “I see you’re in business with someone?”
Maheen gasped. “I literally opened the practice with my best friend two months ago.”
“A medical practice.”
Maheen was beside herself. The women around Hena chatted excitedly, and she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. (A) They were desi, so the odds of someone being a doctor were pretty high, and (B) Maheen had left enough context for Mariela to make an educated guess.
“Is it sports medicine?” Mariela asked.
Hena blinked. All right, that was specific.
“How did you guess that?” Hena asked her.
Mariela jerked her head up, narrowing her eyes at Hena.
“I don’t guess, my dear,” she replied, before turning her attention back to Maheen. “You and your business partner went to medical school together. I’m sensing a landlocked city.”
“University of Chicago. Yes. Wow.”
The crowd was mesmerized, and Hena made sure to bite her tongue. These details confirmed to Hena this was more a party trick than any real intuition. Mariela had their names in her ledger. She must have looked them all up online. Scoured their social media.
But did it matter? Everyone was enjoying the show. Lulu had hit it out of the park with this one. Hena would be sure to let her know.
The fortune teller informed Maheen her business would prosper. Word of mouth alone would propel them to greater heights. She’d have a waiting list this time next year, with patients clamoring for a spot.
Next up was Auntie Hanifa.
“All right, let’s hear it,” she demanded, once seated. “When is my daughter going to get married?”
Mariela studied the auntie’s hands. She trailed a finger along her palm. “Your daughter will be engaged by year’s end.”
“Wonderful.” Auntie Hanifa’s eyes lit up. “Now let’s hope I can find her a groom soon.”
“No need,” the fortune teller replied. “She’s already in love. There’s a woman with a T name. Tammy? Tabatha?”
“Tamara?” Auntie Hanifa gasped. “I thought it was over!”
“Not at all.” The woman clucked her tongue. “I see them together right now. A mountainous horizon…a cabin of sorts.”
Auntie Hanifa drew a hand to her mouth.
Laughter. Whispers. Claps. They were eating this up.
The time passed swiftly as Colette invited people one by one to have their fortunes read. Everyone was amazed at the accuracy, even though Hena remained skeptical.
“And last but not least: Hena,” Colette called out.
“No, thank you,” she said quickly. “I’m just here taking it all in.”
“Nonsense,” Mariela replied. “You’re our final client. We must read all fortunes so I can close the aura.”
“Go on,” an auntie insisted. “You had fun listening to all our stories. It’s your turn.”
She was nudged—gently but firmly—toward the dais. She didn’t want to kill the mood, so she might as well get it over with.
“What would you like guidance on?” Mariela asked once Hena was seated across from her. She took Hena’s hands in hers and studied the lines. “Your love life, perhaps?”
“We don’t have all day.” Auntie Hanifa chortled.
Hena ignored her. There had to be something she could ask. Something harmless. Something innocent. Maybe about her job—some insights on who her next interior design client might be. Before she could say anything, Mariela’s grip tightened. She slid a finger over Hena’s palm lines. Her lips pursed.
“I see darkness,” she said.
There was laughter from the audience. Hena looked at the woman in disbelief.
“I thought Lulu asked you to keep our fortunes happy,” she said.
“You betrayed someone,” Mariela continued, undeterred. It was as though she hadn’t even heard Hena.
The good-natured chuckles were gone. An eerie silence settled over the space.
“Just as you betrayed someone, soon you too will be betrayed.” She lifted her eyes to meet Hena’s. Her expression was troubled. “I’m sorry, dear. I was commissioned for happy fortunes, but I cannot ignore danger.”
“So I’m in danger too?” Hena said sarcastically.
Mariela closed her eyes. When she spoke, her tone was hushed.
“So much anger. Directed at you. They believe you have wronged them.” Tiny beads of sweat dotted Mariela’s forehead. “Has anyone given you reason to think they mean you harm?”
“With a girl like Hena, the list might get long,” someone quipped.
Hena jerked her head back. Auntie Nipa. She smirked in Hena’s direction, pleased to have gotten a rise out of her. Anger bubbled up, hot and fast. Hena yanked her hand from Mariela’s. She understood what was going on.
“My mother is in the hospital.” She glared at the women. “She’s dying. But it’s not enough to keep you all from having your fun with me?”
“What are you accusing us of?” Auntie Nipa’s eyes flashed. “Why on earth would we ask her to give you a bad fortune?”
Entertainment.
She was just a story to these women. A source of endless speculation. It was all her family’s pain had ever been to them.
“Simply because you don’t like what I say doesn’t mean what I have shared is false.
” Mariela’s eyes flashed with indignation.
“I had no intention of sharing such a dark fortune. Do you know how much energy it takes out of me? But when I get a premonition like this, it’s my professional obligation to disclose it. ”
“Then be specific,” Hena said evenly.
“I’m not a genie.” The woman scowled.
“Give me a name. A detail. Anything.”
She took one of Hena’s hands and closed her eyes.
“Darkness obscures their face,” she said at last. “I see they have already made an attempt. Someone tried to hurt you before.”
She was referring to the assault in her family’s boathouse. Anyone could look that up. The police report was available for anyone who knew to ask. Before Hena could cut her off, Mariela spoke again.
“A flash of lightning. A darkened room.” She concentrated. “Rattling. Metal stairs.”
Her words turned Hena’s blood cold. This wasn’t about the boathouse. She was talking about the other night. When Hena had gone to retrieve her mother’s medicine. When the power went out. When Hena had sworn someone was in Lulu’s suite with her.
She couldn’t possibly know about that.
Could she?
Seeing Hena’s expression, she gave her a sympathetic look.
“No one likes the messenger, but it doesn’t change the message.
I must urge you to exercise caution, my dear.
Someone means you harm. Hold on…” She concentrated for a moment before speaking again.
“They have done dark things to survive. They will do what they must. I’m seeing something about a knife…
something about how the knives are out for you. ”
The knives are out for you.
The air in the room suddenly felt much too warm. It was just a phrase. A warning, a metaphor. But for Hena, there was only one association.
Mariela couldn’t see the future. No matter how noble she held herself out to be, someone must have paid her an amount she couldn’t say no to. Fed her details to get under Hena’s skin.
If that was the goal, it was working.