Ghost of You

“I knew you were coming,” said the lady at the door.

Mrs. Listing rolled her eyes, hoisting her purse higher up on her shoulder. “Yes, well, then I assume you know why I'm here.”

The lady nodded her head. She was dark-skinned, but not too dark; perfectly in the middle. She had almond-color eyes. She wore a white belly-shirt with puffed sleeves, and a long red skirt with different colors streaking upwards at the hem.

“Of course. I'll see you around... three?”

Mrs. Listing huffed as she turned on her heels, peeling away down the sidewalk to her car. Sarah pushed by the woman, who turned to let Georg pass. I kept my head low as I walked up. She held out her arm to block my path. She grabbed my chin, pushing my head upwards, her eyes meeting mine. She smiled.

“Hello. You must be Tom. I'm Crimson.” She turned again. “Won't you please come in?”

I went into the small, one-story home, being greeted by the living room. It had a two-seater blue couch in the middle of the room, a nice-sized flat-screen sitting on the floor across the way. There were two doorways: one on the back wall, and one on the right wall. Beaded curtains blocked the sun from the windows, casting dark light into the dim room.

Sarah sat on the couch, the light from the TV coating her cheeks. Georg was in the corner by some type of cage. Crimson noticed me staring oddly at Georg, and she smiled. “That's Najeek in the corner, my snake. Would you like to hold him?”

I shook my head, taking a step back away from the woman. She frowned at me. “Would you follow me, please?” she asked, heading off through the doorway to the right.

I felt a lump in my throat. She held back the curtain, beckoning me into the room. I looked over to the left. Georg and Sarah payed no mind to us. Slowly, I stepped through the curtain, looking around.

A single bed was pushed up against the left wall. A circular table, with a purple table cloth, stood in the middle of the room with two chairs: one chair facing the door, one chair facing the back wall. A crystal ball sat in the middle of the table. Christmas lights were strung over the walls. Dark curtains covered both windows. A wooden dresser stood pressed up against the same wall as the bed, jewelery sprinkling the top, with pieces of clothing sticking from the drawers.

“Nice décor,” I muttered. She smiled, floating by me.

“The crystal ball isn't real, just for show. But it is always nice to have,” she whispered, winking at me. “Please,” she said, motioning to one of the chairs.

I sat down slowly, watching as she took the seat across from me. She smiled, folding her hands together, her elbows up on the table, as she placed her chin on her fingers, her bracelets clanging as they slid down her arm. She pulled back, reaching out one hand to stroke my cheek.

“You are such a difficult one, aren't you?” she whispered, smiling as she traced down to my chin. “Oh, damn, hold on,” she muttered, leaning down under the table.

I narrowed my eyes, pulling up the table cloth and looking down underneath.

“Sorry, just a sec,” she muttered as she picked up a white cord coming through a hole in the table, plugging it into the orange extension cord that was camouflaged on the floor due to the darkness.

We both sat back up as the crystal ball came to life, white light piercing the darkness. She smiled again, then frowned as I sat staring at her. “What? It sets the mood.” She let out a small laugh as she smiled again. “Now, tell me what you seek.”

“You're the fortune teller,” I snapped, “shouldn't you already know?”

She sighed, rolling her dark eyes. “Fortune teller, not future teller.”

“Isn't it all the same?” I huffed out a breath. “Then how did you know we were coming? How did you know my name?”

She cracked a smile. “Georg texted me.”

I huffed, standing up. “Listen, lady, your games are cute and all, but they're annoying.”

“Ahh, but you won't leave, because I know the answers you do not.” She beckoned towards the chair.

I huffed again as I sat back down. “There now, relax. Tell me what is it you're trying to find. I could tell just by looking at you that there's more than curiosity blanketing those eyes.”

I let out a breath. “I have so many questions...”

“...and no way for them to get answered? I understand,” she said, finishing my sentence. I nodded my head. “Well, we'll see what I can do. Ask me something, anything.”

All the questions that started since Bill's death stirred up in my head, dizzying me. I shut my eyes, trying to take slow breaths. My hands shaking, I pulled out the photo from my pocket and slowly smoothed it out, lying it on the table in front of Crimson. She picked it up and studied it, her brows knitted together, every muscle in her lips pulled into a frown. Her lower lip began to tremble, letters stuttering from her mouth.

“H-h-how do you know him?” she asked me, looking up. “How?!” She stood up, her chair scooting back on the floor. “Listen kid, I take my job very seriously, and this isn't funny. It isn't, okay! It... it... you're not joking, are you?”

She lowered herself back into her chair, her eyes staring into mine as she took a deep breath.

“How do you know him?” I whispered.

She kept her eyes down, folding her hands together. “As a child, I was... different. My sisters were always burying their noses into books. Spelling bees, honors classes. Not me. I was always playing, pretending. My parents scolded us for having imaginary friends, but me... I never listened. And then one day during breakfast, when they all thought I was asleep, I eavesdropped on them. I listened to all the horrid things they had to say about me. And then... I left. I ran away.

“I ended up at a traveling carnival. They were packing up for the fall, going down to Florida until springtime. I met the owner, Bob. He was a fat, pudgy man who tamed the lions. He let me join in, promised me two dollars per day to sit in the dunk tank. I took the job. I was fifteen at the time. There was a man there who worked the fortune telling booth. He never told a soul his name. He grew fond of me, I suppose. He would give me free fortune tellings. Then one day... he tried to kiss me. It was on my eighteenth birthday. I pulled back, refused. I told him I only thought of us as friends. He was a lot older, had to be in his mid-twenties. He was angry, hurt, I could see it in his eyes. He couldn't understand why I didn't love him the same way he loved me.

“He disappeared for a while, so I ended up running the dunk tank for half the day, and fortune telling during the night. One night, while I was packing up the fortune telling booth, he slipped in. He was a mess. He asked me to run away with him. Said we could start brand new. I refused. He tried to grab me, tried to take me with him, so I started screaming. David, the magician, heard me screaming and came over, as did some of the other employees. Bob told him he was banned, and to never return to the carnival again. The last thing I remember is waking up outside of the carnival, on the ground. Everything was burning. I could hear screaming coming from inside the grounds, and I knew I was the only one who had survived. Or so I thought. David found me a couple hours later, sobbing on the ground. Fire trucks and police men were everywhere. Many of them thought I had done it. David stole me away that night, and we ran away together. He didn't try to get romantic with me like that evil man had done.

“I remember pain on my arm. It was too dark, though. The next morning, when I looked, I saw my arm was covered in blood, and, well, see for yourself.”

Crimson let her arm lay flat on the table, her right wrist facing up. A scar was evident on her wrist, and as I looked closer, I realized it was in the shape of a heart.