Rewrite the Stars

“I’ll be here.”

I watch as she pushes back the flap of the tent and ducks inside, a weird sense of foreboding trickling down my spine that I can’t explain. Minutes pass, seeming like hours, as I pace back and forth in front of the fortune teller’s tent. When my curiosity gets the best of me, I slip inside, remaining undetected, knowing how the tent is set up. A row of hanging beads acts as a partition, and I can just barely make out the back of Evan’s coiled blonde ponytail as she rests her palms in Valeen’s weathered hands as they sit across from each other on the floor.

Valeen’s eyes are closed, and she starts mumbling something too quiet for me to make out. I inch forward, catching the tail end.

“…cursed to repeat the mistakes of the past.”

Evan cries out in pain, trying to pull her hands out of Valeen’s that are now squeezing. Valeen’s eyes pop open, and she looks disoriented for a moment as she releases Evan’s hands. Evan puts her palms on the ground behind her and scurries back a few feet. “What the hell!”

“Did I hurt you, dear?”

Evan cradles her hands to her chest, rubbing them. “I’m fine.”

“You can come in now, grandson.”

I sigh. I knew better than to think I could be here undetected. Pushing the beads aside, I walk through. Evan’s eyes widen when she sees me.

“Valeen.” I make my way through the tent, stepping over the piles of pillows, bending over to place a kiss on the top of her head. “Having fun?”

“I’ve had a little too much fun,” she says dismissively, but I know something has her feeling unsettled. “Help me to bed.”

Wrapping an arm around her, I help her to her feet. She seems uncomfortable. Like she’s hiding something. My grandmother isn’t a psychic, not in the way most people think of the word anyway. She’s intuitive. An empath, maybe. But the crystal ball, the candles, the tarot cards, the gaudy jewelry… It’s an act. An illusion. She tells customers what she thinks they want to hear. She capitalizes on their subconscious vulnerabilities. And for just fifty dollars more, she can clear you of your curse, bad spirits, negative energy, et cetera, et cetera. It’s all bullshit.

“Wait here,” I tell Evan who nods, looking spooked and confused. I’ll be surprised if she sticks around after this.

“Are you wearing your protection?” Valeen asks as I walk her toward the trailer she shares with my mother. I bring her hand to my chest to feel the cross underneath my shirt. She gave it to me when I was a kid, insisting I wear it, especially when I’m doing a show. She tried getting Eros to wear one, too, but he refuses. He wants nothing to do with God or religion. He’s convinced if he walks into a church, he’ll burst into flames. I’m not a religious man, but if it affords Valeen some semblance of peace, I’ll give that to her. The old woman’s had enough loss and tragedy to last five lifetimes.

“Good boy.” She pats my chest. “You’ll need it.”

An uneasy feeling rolls through me, but I know better than to question her. This woman is a vault. Any time I’ve pushed in the past, she’d simply respond with, “All will reveal itself when the time is right,” so I’ve quit asking. Plus, I can pretty much guarantee I won’t like the answer. I know I’m destined to die young. I’d rather be surprised about everything else.

I help Valeen up the steps and into her trailer. She hobbles over to the small card table and sits in one of the metal folding chairs where she’ll play her handheld poker games and smoke cigarettes for the rest of the night, or at least until my mother gets back from wherever she is.

“Sebastian,” she calls my name as I’m walking away. I look over my shoulder to meet her eyes. “Remember who you are and who you belong to.”

“Always.” It’s not like I can forget. She’s said the same thing, every single night, for as long as I can remember. I let the door spring closed behind me. Now, it’s time to see if Evan decided to run away or not.

I CAN’T GET THE FORTUNE teller’s words out of my head. At first, she asked my full name before she hit me with the standard, generic lines about my future career and finding the love of my life, but once we touched hands, she looked…frightened. Something shifted in that moment. Like it was no longer for show. Or maybe that was part of her whole act. Genius, really. Then, she started mumbling stuff that made absolutely no sense to me.

And Sebastian is her grandson? Why was he trying to talk me out of going inside? Maybe he knows the old lady is off her rocker. So many questions run through my mind. I’m completely distracted, so when a hand lands on my shoulder, I practically jump out of my skin.

“Whoa, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Evan, right?”

It’s Sebastian’s friend, Elliot. “Yeah,” I say, trying to force a smile when my heart is beating a mile a minute.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m just waiting on Sebastian.” I hook my thumb behind me. “He’s helping his grandmother.”

“Ah,” he says knowingly. “Want to go play some games while you wait?”

I hesitate, unsure of how Sebastian feels about Elliot, but it’s not like we’re dating. We hardly even like each other. There’s no reason I shouldn’t take Elliot up on his offer.

“Come on,” he coaxes. “If Sebastian’s with Valeen, he’ll be a while. She’s a talker.”

“Okay,” I relent.

Elliot grins a boyish smile. “Let’s go win you a purple inflatable alien or some shit.”