Читать книгу Lucifer's Daughter - V. J. Banis - Страница 6

CHAPTER TWO

But the roller coaster ride didn’t liven things up at all. On the contrary, Julia’s stomach felt tied in knots and her head ached unmercifully. The plunging, careening ride scared her half to death, although she’d never admit it.

See, I told you not to ride on it, the soft, sympathetic little voice said.

Oh, shut up! So what’s the big deal about a little upset stomach and a headache. It was fun.

You could have gotten hurt.

So what? That’s what you’re living for—to take chances.

Needless chances?

Julia shook her head. “Oh, quiet,” she said sharply. She had gotten a little ahead of Allyson, which she blamed on her eagerness to get out of the car and away from that terrible amusement ride as quickly as possible. Allyson didn’t hear her speak, but she did see her shake her head and put her hands to her temples.

“Are you all right?” Allyson asked when she caught up to Julia. They started down the ramp and headed toward where Elizabeth and Margaret were standing waiting.

“Yes, fine. My legs are a little wobbly though.” She forced herself to laugh, hoping to smother the voices that were arguing inside her head.

Allyson laughed, too. “That’s not all that’s a little wobbly with me. Quite a ride, wasn’t it?”

“It was fun.” It hadn’t been fun at all. She’d hated it She felt sick.

As they got nearer, Elizabeth frowned in genuine concern. “Julie. You’re as white as a ghost. You shouldn’t have gone on that thing.”

Julia gave a little toss of her head. “I’m fine, Liz; really I am.” She forced a smile. “It was wild.”

“It was certainly that,” Allyson agreed. She glanced at Julia. “In case you didn’t know, Julie, you’re supposed to scream your head off when you go down those dips. They say it helps get rid of your inhibitions.”

“It would take more than screaming on a roller coaster to get rid of all my inhibitions,” Julia said pleasantly enough.

“I’ll buy that,” Margaret interjected, with more than just a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

Julia threw her sidelong glance. She bit down on her lip and said nothing in spite of the voice inside her which was goading her to be unpleasant.

“Speaking of inhibitions,” Elizabeth said, pointing to a drab little tent sitting next to a penny arcade, “there’s a fortune teller over there. Let’s go find out about ourselves.”

“Oh, Elizabeth,” Margaret said. “Surely you don’t believe in fortune tellers.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I believe in anyone or anything that will get me a husband.”

The girls laughed gaily and started toward the tent. Julia went along, but not as eagerly as the others. There was something about the sagging, neglected little tent that seemed to warn her to stay away. But Elizabeth was pulling her along, forcing her to come with them. Julia’s legs felt shaky from the unnerving effects of the roller coaster. Her head was throbbing, yet there was a lightness inside her that caused her heart to beat faster as though half expecting something wonderful and exciting to happen. She was afraid, but anxious at the same time. She felt strange, as though she was suspended between the two worlds of pleasure and pain, doubtful as to which she would be dropped into. The brooding shadow that had always followed her seemed suddenly less brooding. She knew she should stay away from the tent and the dark-complexioned gypsy woman seated before it, her hands folded contentedly in her lap, but Julia found she could not. She blamed it all on Elizabeth’s firm grip on her arm. They were forcing her to go into the tent and there was nothing she could do about it.

The old gypsy’s weather-beaten face turned on them as they approached. A trace of a smile tickled the mouth, but the eyes weren’t smiling. The eyes were cold and dark and the color of death. She greeted the girls, letting her eyes take each of them in as they came to stand before her. Julia was standing slightly behind Elizabeth. The old gypsy’s eyes widened as though in recognition when she looked deep into Julia’s face, but the woman said nothing. Then, with an obvious move to compose herself, the gypsy got slowly to her feet, carefully avoiding looking at Julia again.

What had she seen? Julia wondered. She seemed to recognize me from somewhere, but Julia had never laid eyes on the woman in her life.

The gypsy cleared her throat in a nervous gesture and said, “Well, my pretty things, can I tell you what man lurks in each of your futures?” Her eyes traveled from face to face again, but did not venture as far as Julia’s face.

“How much do you charge?” Margaret wanted to know.

“Private readings are five dollars.”

“Five dollars. Oh, wow, that’s too much,” Allyson complained.

The old gypsy chuckled. “However, if you don’t mind knowing each other’s secrets, I can do a group reading for eight.”

Allyson, Margaret, and Elizabeth went into a hurried conference. Again Julia felt unwanted. They had automatically assumed that she had no intention of including herself in their adventure. She felt perturbed, but did not push herself into their whispered discussion. The girls agreed that eight dollars was reasonable enough.

Then Elizabeth turned to Julia. “Do you want to be included? It’ll only cost you two dollars.”

“Yes, come on, Julia. Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud,” Margaret insisted.

So that was it, Julia told herself. They weren’t all that interested in including her except one more added to the group session would bring the price down.

However, it wasn’t spite alone that tempted her to refuse them. For reasons she could not explain, she didn’t want to learn about her future. She felt she had no future...not even a future manufactured from the experienced imagination of an old gypsy woman. Ever since she could remember, the future seemed to be meant for everyone else but her.

Strange, now that she thought of it, how unimportant the coming years seemed. Nothing had ever lain in store for her. The present was all that had ever existed and all that would ever continue to exist. She lived from day to day, never for tomorrow, because there were no tomorrows. Time was a dimension that mattered little. She lived in a vacuum. Only emptiness lay behind her; nothing lay ahead. Looking back over everything, she seemed to have spent her life waiting for something to complete her existence. What she waited for she did not know, but she felt she must wait. There was no place for her in the lives of others, and she had no desire to clutter up her own life with friendships she knew she could not afford.

Why she had bothered to come with Allyson, Elizabeth, and Margaret she didn’t know. It had been a drastic mistake. She should have known better. Whenever she made a spur-of-the-moment decision, it always proved wrong. She was sorry she’d come. She wanted to go back to her little furnished apartment in the city where she could be alone with her troubled thoughts and the unnerving voices that constantly talked to her.

She stood there deep in her own thoughts, oblivious of the three girls who were trying to coax her to join them. Elizabeth gave her arm a hard tug. It brought Julia back to the present. She saw the old gypsy woman looking at her again. She remembered the woman’s first look of astonishment, of recognition. Perhaps the gypsy really did know something about Julia that would benefit her. Despite all her resolve to refuse the others, she found herself giving in. She let Elizabeth pull her inside the tent.

Once inside, Julia saw another expression pass over the gypsy’s face. It was one of disapproval. The old woman looked none too pleased with Julia for having joined the others. Julia found herself tossing back a look of defiance and seated herself with the girls around a draped table, in the center of which sat a crystal ball.

The gypsy did not take her place at the table until the matter of payment was dispensed with. Each girl contributed her share, which the old woman collected. She carried the bills into a deeper recess of the eerily lighted tent. She reappeared a moment later.

“Well,” the old gypsy said with a heavy sigh as she settled herself opposite the girls. She leaned over the crystal ball which glowed with a strange light.

The gypsy looked again from one to the other of the girls, giving Julia only the briefest glance. “I must explain,” the old woman started. “In group readings, it is necessary for me to put myself into a trance from which I cannot emerge until all the readings are completed. After I have passed over into my hypnotic state, each of you will take turns placing your hands, palms down, on the table, extended toward the crystal ball. Above all else, do not touch the crystal ball, just put your hands close enough to it for it to pick up the heat of your body. Whatever I say will be directed to the person whose hands are on the table. Only one pair of hands must be on the table at a time, otherwise the powers of darkness will become confused and the communication muddied and garbled. Do you understand? Good. Then we can begin.” The old woman closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Her lips moved, but emitted no sounds. Slowly her wrinkled and bony hands raised up, as though in supplication, and the woman began to speak.

“Hear me, great powers from beyond this world. Tell me what is in store for this young beauty.”

The tent suddenly dropped into darkness. The girls all tittered and looked around. After a moment they settled themselves and Allyson placed her hands palms down on the table, extending them close to the glowing crystal ball.

The gypsy’s eyes opened wide, but they stared, unseeing, at the darkness around them. “I invoke and command thee, O spirit, by all the resplendent and potent names of the great and unparalleled Azliel, to come here to this place instanter. Come from whichever place thou art and give answers to my questions. Come in visible or invisible form. Come and speak pleasantly in words I may understand.”

Julia, unlike the others, was looking around for signs of trickery. She expected to see a vague shape take form in the sudden blackness, which she was convinced was obtained through the benefit of electric switches located beneath the table. However, no shimmering, unearthly shape appeared. Nothing floated through the space over their heads. No drafts of cold air tickled the backs of their necks. Julia frowned her disappointment.

The tent was deadly quiet for several long, ominous moments. Then the gypsy’s lips moved again but her voice was not her own. She spoke in a man’s voice, a voice so unreal and so unnatural the girls, including Julia, gasped and stared in disbelief.

“What will you have me tell you?” the voice asked.

“This girl. Her name is Alice...no, Allyson. She wishes to know what her future holds in store.” This time the old woman spoke in her own voice.

Another long, eerie silence followed. Then the mysterious man’s voice said, “She will marry soon. She will meet her betrothed on a beach. They will fall in love and will live in happiness forever.”

A little cry of pleasure went out of Allyson. She turned to Margaret, who was seated beside her. They looked at each other, saying nothing, too surprised to speak. After a second or two Allyson turned back and stared at the crystal ball and waited for the voice to continue. When it did not, she took her hands from the table. “The old gypsy knew my name,” Allyson whispered. “How could she know my name?”

Margaret shrugged. “She obviously heard us talking among ourselves. We mentioned each other’s names, I suppose.”

“Oh, it’s kinda exciting,” Allyson gushed. “You can bet your last dollar I’ll be on the beach tomorrow bright and early.”

The girls giggled.

“She didn’t say you’d meet him tomorrow, Ally,” Margaret told her.

Allyson smothered a laugh. “I know, but I intend to start looking as soon as I can.” Between giggles Allyson nudged Margaret. “Go ahead, Maggie. Put your hands on the table. Let’s see what she has to say about you.”

Margaret hesitated, then remembered her two-dollar investment and put her hands palms down in front of her.

Allyson nodded toward the crystal ball and Margaret stretched her hands closer to it.

The old woman was seated, staring upward, seemingly unaware that there were others near her. The moment Margaret’s hands touched the table top the old gypsy’s lips began to quiver.

“Your name...your name...,” the old woman said.

Margaret said nothing.

“Your name is Margaret.” The gypsy paused. “Tell us, O great spirit, what is in store for this girl?”

“Margaret,” the man’s voice droned. “Margaret. Be careful of vehicles. Be careful of your money. Your future is uncertain unless your ways are changed now.”

“Will I marry?” Margaret asked, ignoring the warnings. “That’s all I’m interested in knowing.”

“Love will come easily to you, Margaret,” the man’s voice said. “You will find it too often, and each time it will bring with it great unhappiness. You will marry three times.”

“I hope they’ll all be rich,” Margaret scoffed, pulling her hands back from the table.

“Oh, Maggie, you shouldn’t make light of it. You’ll break the trance and we won’t hear what she has to say about Elizabeth and Julie.”

“Oh, phooey,” Margaret huffed. “You surely don’t believe all this bunk?”

“Hush,” Allyson cautioned, still pleased with her own prediction for the future. “Go ahead, Julie. You go next.”

Julia held back. “N—no,” she stammered, “I don’t think I want to.”

“I’ll go,” Elizabeth said eagerly, putting her hands down on the table.

The girls settled themselves into quietness and waited, all except Margaret who was beginning to get restless. Allyson nudged her and whispered for her to be still.

The voice took longer this time, but finally it came from the old woman’s lips.

“Elizabeth, you have much happiness awaiting you. You will leave your present place of employment shortly and will work for a young executive who will fall in love with you and you with him. You will marry before a year has passed.”

Elizabeth hooted and clasped her hands to her breast. She giggled across Margaret to Allyson who also clapped her hands with glee. “Oh, Liz, how exciting.” They gushed among themselves for a few moments, then turned their eyes on Julia.

“Okay, Julia,” Margaret said irritably. “Hurry up and let’s get this over with.”

“Oh, don’t be such a grouch, Maggie. What are you grousing about? You’re going to have three husbands to Ally’s and my one,” Elizabeth said. Then she turned to Julia. “Go ahead, Julie. Let’s see when and where you’re going to meet your Prince Charming.”

Julia pulled back. What she had to fear she didn’t know, but there was a strange throbbing deep inside her that was telling her to get out of that tent, to get away from the mysterious voice and the glowing crystal ball that seemed to pulse and radiate from the center of the table.

“Oh, go on, Julie,” Allyson urged. “You might just as well get your money’s worth.”

“Sure, Julie. Go ahead. Please,” Elizabeth insisted.

Reluctantly Julia let Elizabeth lift her hands onto the table. She put them palms down and moved them toward the crystal ball.

The old woman sat there in silence, her lips still and unmoving. Elizabeth nudged Julia and pushed her hands closer to the glowing crystal ball.

The old crone sat for a moment longer, then she stirred and her lips moved. “The girl is Julia,” she said. She paused. Her head started to move back and forth, slowly at first and then with more and more deliberateness. “No. The girl is called...,” she stammered. “The girl’s name is not Julia.”

Allyson, Margaret, and Elizabeth turned and stared at Julia. But Julia was suddenly gazing deep into the crystal ball, entranced, waiting for something of which she was deathly afraid. But she was too frozen to move.

Julia felt a hot, wet mist envelop her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him standing just over her shoulder. The air inside the tent grew thicker and heavier. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t cry out. Something, someone was holding shut her mouth and had made her limbs immobile. An unearthly silence descended on her. She felt herself being pressed deeper and deeper into the earth between her feet. She felt herself sinking into oblivion. Silence—dead, thick, heavy silence—permeated the place. Not a breath of air stirred as she sat there waiting...waiting...waiting.

Suddenly the old woman groaned. Her tired, ageless eyes went wide with terror. “No!” she shrieked. “No! Go away!” Her head fell back, her eyes dropped closed. Then her body went rigid. “No—” she shrieked again. “Go away! Go away!” She waved her hands in front of her as if warding off a swarm of locusts. “Go! Leave me! Go! Go!”

Then with an agonizing moan, her body swayed and toppled backward. She fell unconscious to the floor.

Three of the girls screamed. Julia sat engulfed in her stupor. She just stared into the crystal ball. Then, with a dull thud, the ball in the center of the table shattered into fragments.

Julia moaned. Then, like the old gypsy, she fell into a dead faint.