31 August 2010
307
R. Linda:
Ok before you even say a word, I know, I know, I know. You can call me a bleedin' nutter or just plain strange, BUT just BUT, this whole situation was worth the trouble, or trubble as me sainted Mam would say.
It all started last Wednesday when I was sitting in me cubicle making paper airplanes and launching them around the stagnant air when suddenly, without any warning, me editor threw a file on me desk. I thought I be in "trubble" for sure for wasting paper and space, but no, no, he said, "Get to it."
I opened the folder and there it was! A cold case headline about a murder that happened many years ago, that was never solved. I felt like a member of Scotland Yard I did, and I read the files and the more I read, the more the hairs on me arms stood up. It was the Whitey Bulger file! Begorrah me, what a sweet piece this could be. This bloke has been missing since God knows when and they think he is in Italy and here I was thinking TRIP. But no, no, as I read on there are people in Boston who may know something. But these people are shady too!
There was a lead, a thread if you will, to the whereabouts of some guy that might know where the errant Mr. Bulger be off to. Well, I thought, how bad can this be? So, I put the file down and clicked on me computer, put in the name for our research files and wowey, wow, wow -- what came up made more than the hairs on me arms stand up, but the hair on me head and me eyes were probably bugging out of me head as well. This guy had a habit of meeting with people who never showed up again, anywhere, just the guy they met seemed to be here, there and everywhere, but the others, no sign. It was thought he silenced them. Did I, want to really meet up with this person? Was there a chance I'd never be seen or heard from again? Hum, what to do?
I had a week to figure this out. I told me bestest bud at the newspaper about me new assignment. He joked that maybe the powers that be had no proper reason to fire me arse, so . . . OH thank you so much bestest bud! He laughed at me and told me if he were me he'd consult a higher authority and see what they had to say. Now to me the higher authority I thought, was God above, and a lot of praying was in order. I muttered something about church and he said, "No Gabe, go see a psychic!"
OHHH THAT higher authority. Well, I would just rush right out and do just that -- NOT.
That weekend as it happened, me wife had talked me into the local fair for the day. You know small-town U.S.A., booths of fried dough, crafts for sale and the like, with amusement rides for the kiddies. I made jest that me wife was not to sample the soap chips thinking they were exotic fudge flavours and off we went (see What A Day! Jan. 10, 2010). On the way, I told her me plight, and what me ex-bestest bud had told me to do, and she brightened up and informed yours truly that there was a fortune teller and I should go. Oh, goody.
We did our thing, the kiddies stuffed themselves on cotton candy, had a wicked good time on the rides and Ton was off to the craft tents. She pointed out the fortune teller's tent to me and I told her I could not go, I had the wee ones in tow, and she called them to her and pointed at me, and then at the tent as she led them off. I was not wanting to go in there. It was dark R. Linda, dark and seedy looking. I looked around and no one was watching so I took a few steps nearer. I read the sign: MADAME VON DARK, $5.00 reading of palm, $5.00 reading of card, $5.00 contact of dead. It sounded like Dracula had written her advert up. I was wondering if it would cost another $5.00 to read other palm, and what if you wanted more than one card read? How much was THAT going to cost? And contact of dead. Dead what exactly? Oh no, I started to step away when this voice called to me from within, "Come in stranger, come in, do not be fraid."
I squinted me eyes and could not see inside for the life of me. I was curious though, so I stepped inside and there was no one there. I was now spooked. Where the hell was she?
"Come behind curtain," the disembodied voice ordered.
I saw a curtain and had a time finding the opening. It was strung across the inside of the tent and finally, I stepped through the narrow slit, and there sitting at a small card table with a crystal ball, candles and tarot cards was this gypsy woman. She was no spring chicken that was for sure and as me eyes adjusted I could see she was giving me the once-over. Not like she was interested in me, but how much I might spend. Yup. She pointed to the chair across from her and I sat down.
"So you have challenge in life, no?"
I nodded not sure what she meant.
"You are not sure in what direction to take, no?"
I nodded again.
"You don't like this thing that you are involvied in?"
Involvied? I nodded again.
"You wish it would be smoother sail, no?"
Well, okay, I nodded.
"Give palm you write with."
I handed me right palm over and she took it. She examined both sides and then settled on the palm. She took a deep breath and looked at me like I was in dire 'trubble' and then she said.
"You are not of here. You are from country cross sea. You have trouble adjusting to new life here."
I almost fell off the chair. Me eyes got big and I am sure that didn't go unnoticed because she looked at me knowingly, nodding her head.
"Things will pick up in time. Now tell me vexing question."
I cleared me throat feeling a bit unnerved and a bit ridiculous at the same time.
"Well . . . "
"Before you go on, let me tell you there is hope."
I thought, well that's encouraging. I guess I can do the interview and there is hope I'll live to write about it. She held up a gnarled index finger and went on.
"There is woman coming into life. She is tall like you, dark, but she has temper. You need not worry you will meet this woman and she will become wife."
HUH? The hope was that I'd meet a woman? I must have looked shocked and this only encouraged her, I think.
"Dark woman will bring you happiness but has temper so be careful of upsets. Oh, and I see children, two children a girl and a boy."
Ok, that was it. I went to protest, but she hushed me again and closed her eyes.
"You will be supported by wife. Job is no good, puts you in danger."
I was ready to tell her she was out in left field somewhere, but then a thought struck me, so I asked her if she had the name of this dark woman with the temper and the two kids.
"I see a 'T' initial. She is from America. Yes, she is American. You are from the green place where it rains a lot."
Well, do you think me accent might have given her a hint? But still the T initial, well, interesting on that, but a little late and I could swear I had two boys last time I looked, with the tempest of a dark woman.
"Be of patience she will come. You will know." She opened her eyes and gave me what looked like a horrific smile, but I think it was supposed to be a smile of encouragement.
"SO is travel in the card?" I asked, yes I did, one card, what the hell, $10.00 to be told nonsense.
"You will travel home to see Muther. She is missing you," she said turning over a card that had a woman seated on a throne.
That wasn't the travel I had in mind. I was thinking of Italy, someplace like that, but no, no.
"Ok, one more card, will I meet a volatile man and have a good outcome from our conversation?"
She blinked at me like I was a nutter, card held in mid-air. She slapped it down and it was the upside-down hanged man. UH OH.
"Well . . . " she began, "things will go topsy-turvy."
I wanted to laugh. It was ludicrous.
I started to get my wallet out and she stopped me holding up a hand as if for silence. She closed her eyes and started to moan. I was thinking she was having a fit.
"You must not meet man. You must not! The spirits are telling me this bodes ill for you and you will not meet woman if you meet man." She put her hand up again in silence and moaned again, "You are in grave danger and you must go away."
"For how long?" I asked snidely.
"For long, long time, you must return in 2 years!"
"Two years?"
She slapped three more cards in succession down and I am hearing the cha-ching of the cash register inside me head!
There was the dreaded death card, and then there was a tower falling down, and the ten of swords. Her eyes were huge as she looked in horror at the cards. I don't know a thing about tarot, but I did know by her expression she had pulled the three worst cards ever that one could pull.
I jumped out of my chair this time, there was no stopping me. I pulled out five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five dollars and slammed them over the cards.
"Here ya go, I'm done," I said and started walking out.
"Oh no, you are not." I heard her voice as I got outside the curtain.
I know I should have just kept walking but no, I turned around and stood in the curtain doorway.
"What?" I asked defiantly.
She held her head like it hurt and rubbed her temples, she then gestured toward the chair as she rubbed with one hand. I sat down, tense.
"Terrible things will happen you meet this man of mystery. Cards are thrown down by spirits warning you. You will end up in bad place with bad man. You will not meet dark woman and have two beautiful children, girl and boy. You will end up home with mama feeding you through tube."
"You're joking right?"
"No joke is truth."
"OK, I'm going to get up and leave now. Tell the spirits thanks for everything, I'll give their regards to me mother when I see her for them." And with that, I backed out and left her staring after me. As I started walking away she called after me, "And don't go near water!"
Yup, I was pissed. I was REALLY pissed. I went to the beer stand to get truly pissed. I slugged back beers like I did those hot dogs the week before (see Talk About Upset Stomach Aug. 16, 2010). I couldn't wait to deck my bestest bud for a truly fine and expensive experience, NOT. Tonya showed up shortly after my tenth brew. Talk about a tempest, she was decidedly not happy to see that I was tying a few on. She didn't bother to ask me why I would do that, no, no instead she grabbed a handful of my shirt and started pulling me toward the parking lot, as she threatened me within an inch of me life if I gave her any flack. This all said between stiff lips and under her breath. The boyos looked at me all serious, they were not opening their little traps and getting in trouble like their father, their mother was mad and they knew not to temp the tempest.
We had a silent drive home, no one talked, but I did hiccup and I did get the dirtiest looks from the dark woman next to me. I did try one attempt to tell her why, but I was talking to the hand so that was that. I got home to a message on the answering machine. It was me editor telling me to forget the story, the mystery man was found unconscious floating in the river. He was in hospital on life support and his mother was by his side. Didn't look good. His wife had left him, got tired of supporting him and took his two kids, a girl and a boy to Italy.
I had this cold icy feeling running down me body as I listened to the message a second time, not being entirely sure I heard it right the first time. Did I actually have a reading on the mystery man? I don't know. I was in a state of total and utter confusion, AND I had no one to talk to because I was being shunned by the children, for guilt by association does not bode well in me abode, AND the dark tempest I was married to was still fuming I would go off drinking and make her the designated driver when she had no fun at all in the process.
So here I am telling you me woes. Give you something to do besides weeding the cactus patch. Sniff. (See Parallel Universe May 20, 2010).
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Ok before you even say a word, I know, I know, I know. You can call me a bleedin' nutter or just plain strange, BUT just BUT, this whole situation was worth the trouble, or trubble as me sainted Mam would say.
It all started last Wednesday when I was sitting in me cubicle making paper airplanes and launching them around the stagnant air when suddenly, without any warning, me editor threw a file on me desk. I thought I be in "trubble" for sure for wasting paper and space, but no, no, he said, "Get to it."
I opened the folder and there it was! A cold case headline about a murder that happened many years ago, that was never solved. I felt like a member of Scotland Yard I did, and I read the files and the more I read, the more the hairs on me arms stood up. It was the Whitey Bulger file! Begorrah me, what a sweet piece this could be. This bloke has been missing since God knows when and they think he is in Italy and here I was thinking TRIP. But no, no, as I read on there are people in Boston who may know something. But these people are shady too!
There was a lead, a thread if you will, to the whereabouts of some guy that might know where the errant Mr. Bulger be off to. Well, I thought, how bad can this be? So, I put the file down and clicked on me computer, put in the name for our research files and wowey, wow, wow -- what came up made more than the hairs on me arms stand up, but the hair on me head and me eyes were probably bugging out of me head as well. This guy had a habit of meeting with people who never showed up again, anywhere, just the guy they met seemed to be here, there and everywhere, but the others, no sign. It was thought he silenced them. Did I, want to really meet up with this person? Was there a chance I'd never be seen or heard from again? Hum, what to do?
I had a week to figure this out. I told me bestest bud at the newspaper about me new assignment. He joked that maybe the powers that be had no proper reason to fire me arse, so . . . OH thank you so much bestest bud! He laughed at me and told me if he were me he'd consult a higher authority and see what they had to say. Now to me the higher authority I thought, was God above, and a lot of praying was in order. I muttered something about church and he said, "No Gabe, go see a psychic!"
OHHH THAT higher authority. Well, I would just rush right out and do just that -- NOT.
That weekend as it happened, me wife had talked me into the local fair for the day. You know small-town U.S.A., booths of fried dough, crafts for sale and the like, with amusement rides for the kiddies. I made jest that me wife was not to sample the soap chips thinking they were exotic fudge flavours and off we went (see What A Day! Jan. 10, 2010). On the way, I told her me plight, and what me ex-bestest bud had told me to do, and she brightened up and informed yours truly that there was a fortune teller and I should go. Oh, goody.
We did our thing, the kiddies stuffed themselves on cotton candy, had a wicked good time on the rides and Ton was off to the craft tents. She pointed out the fortune teller's tent to me and I told her I could not go, I had the wee ones in tow, and she called them to her and pointed at me, and then at the tent as she led them off. I was not wanting to go in there. It was dark R. Linda, dark and seedy looking. I looked around and no one was watching so I took a few steps nearer. I read the sign: MADAME VON DARK, $5.00 reading of palm, $5.00 reading of card, $5.00 contact of dead. It sounded like Dracula had written her advert up. I was wondering if it would cost another $5.00 to read other palm, and what if you wanted more than one card read? How much was THAT going to cost? And contact of dead. Dead what exactly? Oh no, I started to step away when this voice called to me from within, "Come in stranger, come in, do not be fraid."
I squinted me eyes and could not see inside for the life of me. I was curious though, so I stepped inside and there was no one there. I was now spooked. Where the hell was she?
"Come behind curtain," the disembodied voice ordered.
I saw a curtain and had a time finding the opening. It was strung across the inside of the tent and finally, I stepped through the narrow slit, and there sitting at a small card table with a crystal ball, candles and tarot cards was this gypsy woman. She was no spring chicken that was for sure and as me eyes adjusted I could see she was giving me the once-over. Not like she was interested in me, but how much I might spend. Yup. She pointed to the chair across from her and I sat down.
"So you have challenge in life, no?"
I nodded not sure what she meant.
"You are not sure in what direction to take, no?"
I nodded again.
"You don't like this thing that you are involvied in?"
Involvied? I nodded again.
"You wish it would be smoother sail, no?"
Well, okay, I nodded.
"Give palm you write with."
I handed me right palm over and she took it. She examined both sides and then settled on the palm. She took a deep breath and looked at me like I was in dire 'trubble' and then she said.
"You are not of here. You are from country cross sea. You have trouble adjusting to new life here."
I almost fell off the chair. Me eyes got big and I am sure that didn't go unnoticed because she looked at me knowingly, nodding her head.
"Things will pick up in time. Now tell me vexing question."
I cleared me throat feeling a bit unnerved and a bit ridiculous at the same time.
"Well . . . "
"Before you go on, let me tell you there is hope."
I thought, well that's encouraging. I guess I can do the interview and there is hope I'll live to write about it. She held up a gnarled index finger and went on.
"There is woman coming into life. She is tall like you, dark, but she has temper. You need not worry you will meet this woman and she will become wife."
HUH? The hope was that I'd meet a woman? I must have looked shocked and this only encouraged her, I think.
"Dark woman will bring you happiness but has temper so be careful of upsets. Oh, and I see children, two children a girl and a boy."
Ok, that was it. I went to protest, but she hushed me again and closed her eyes.
"You will be supported by wife. Job is no good, puts you in danger."
I was ready to tell her she was out in left field somewhere, but then a thought struck me, so I asked her if she had the name of this dark woman with the temper and the two kids.
"I see a 'T' initial. She is from America. Yes, she is American. You are from the green place where it rains a lot."
Well, do you think me accent might have given her a hint? But still the T initial, well, interesting on that, but a little late and I could swear I had two boys last time I looked, with the tempest of a dark woman.
"Be of patience she will come. You will know." She opened her eyes and gave me what looked like a horrific smile, but I think it was supposed to be a smile of encouragement.
"SO is travel in the card?" I asked, yes I did, one card, what the hell, $10.00 to be told nonsense.
"You will travel home to see Muther. She is missing you," she said turning over a card that had a woman seated on a throne.
That wasn't the travel I had in mind. I was thinking of Italy, someplace like that, but no, no.
"Ok, one more card, will I meet a volatile man and have a good outcome from our conversation?"
She blinked at me like I was a nutter, card held in mid-air. She slapped it down and it was the upside-down hanged man. UH OH.
"Well . . . " she began, "things will go topsy-turvy."
I wanted to laugh. It was ludicrous.
I started to get my wallet out and she stopped me holding up a hand as if for silence. She closed her eyes and started to moan. I was thinking she was having a fit.
"You must not meet man. You must not! The spirits are telling me this bodes ill for you and you will not meet woman if you meet man." She put her hand up again in silence and moaned again, "You are in grave danger and you must go away."
"For how long?" I asked snidely.
"For long, long time, you must return in 2 years!"
"Two years?"
She slapped three more cards in succession down and I am hearing the cha-ching of the cash register inside me head!
There was the dreaded death card, and then there was a tower falling down, and the ten of swords. Her eyes were huge as she looked in horror at the cards. I don't know a thing about tarot, but I did know by her expression she had pulled the three worst cards ever that one could pull.
I jumped out of my chair this time, there was no stopping me. I pulled out five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five dollars and slammed them over the cards.
"Here ya go, I'm done," I said and started walking out.
"Oh no, you are not." I heard her voice as I got outside the curtain.
I know I should have just kept walking but no, I turned around and stood in the curtain doorway.
"What?" I asked defiantly.
She held her head like it hurt and rubbed her temples, she then gestured toward the chair as she rubbed with one hand. I sat down, tense.
"Terrible things will happen you meet this man of mystery. Cards are thrown down by spirits warning you. You will end up in bad place with bad man. You will not meet dark woman and have two beautiful children, girl and boy. You will end up home with mama feeding you through tube."
"You're joking right?"
"No joke is truth."
"OK, I'm going to get up and leave now. Tell the spirits thanks for everything, I'll give their regards to me mother when I see her for them." And with that, I backed out and left her staring after me. As I started walking away she called after me, "And don't go near water!"
Yup, I was pissed. I was REALLY pissed. I went to the beer stand to get truly pissed. I slugged back beers like I did those hot dogs the week before (see Talk About Upset Stomach Aug. 16, 2010). I couldn't wait to deck my bestest bud for a truly fine and expensive experience, NOT. Tonya showed up shortly after my tenth brew. Talk about a tempest, she was decidedly not happy to see that I was tying a few on. She didn't bother to ask me why I would do that, no, no instead she grabbed a handful of my shirt and started pulling me toward the parking lot, as she threatened me within an inch of me life if I gave her any flack. This all said between stiff lips and under her breath. The boyos looked at me all serious, they were not opening their little traps and getting in trouble like their father, their mother was mad and they knew not to temp the tempest.
We had a silent drive home, no one talked, but I did hiccup and I did get the dirtiest looks from the dark woman next to me. I did try one attempt to tell her why, but I was talking to the hand so that was that. I got home to a message on the answering machine. It was me editor telling me to forget the story, the mystery man was found unconscious floating in the river. He was in hospital on life support and his mother was by his side. Didn't look good. His wife had left him, got tired of supporting him and took his two kids, a girl and a boy to Italy.
I had this cold icy feeling running down me body as I listened to the message a second time, not being entirely sure I heard it right the first time. Did I actually have a reading on the mystery man? I don't know. I was in a state of total and utter confusion, AND I had no one to talk to because I was being shunned by the children, for guilt by association does not bode well in me abode, AND the dark tempest I was married to was still fuming I would go off drinking and make her the designated driver when she had no fun at all in the process.
So here I am telling you me woes. Give you something to do besides weeding the cactus patch. Sniff. (See Parallel Universe May 20, 2010).
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
