Seeking Clues--but Not Too Many
ENCINO — Man sits across narrow desk from Dorothy in bright, little room in her house.
Life’s been playing Pick-Up-Stix with man. Scattered his identity all over place--new job, new city, new living arrangement. Man wonders what in the heck’s becoming of him.
Maybe Dorothy has a clue. Sign in her yard says, “Psychic and Angel Readings.” Man has never been to a psychic before.
Room is small, bright, cluttered with religious bric-a-brac. Angels, Sacred Heart, Infant of Prague. St. George shish-kebabing jalapeno-breath dragon.
Dorothy is short, slight, dark and can’t be tricked into giving age (man makes her for about 30). She sits with back to window. Outside on Balboa, mindless traffic streams un-psychically by. Dorothy gives truth-in-advertising disclaimer: “This is not to base your life decision on. This is here just for fun.”
Man thinks, well, Spielberg gets millions for make-believe. If Dorothy can pick up 35 bucks for psychic reading, more power to her.
She was little girl in Houston when she began to sense that she had “a gift,” she says. “For instance, I knew the phone was going to ring before it rang. I knew there was going to be a death in the family before it happened. I knew that a family member was coming from out of town before they even knew.
“But I’m not ever at any time 100% accurate. I’d be lying to you if I said I was. Some people you just can’t read. A reading is good for about two years, the two years that I can see in. That’s basically it. If you tell me that you don’t want to hear any negativity, then I won’t tell you any. If you want the truth, I’ll give you the truth, good, bad or indifferent.”
Tell all, man says in pretty good imitation of courage. Read away.
“I need something personal of yours, please,” Dorothy says. “Whatever you feel comfortable with giving me.”
Man empties billfold, hands it to Dorothy.
Dorothy takes it in miniature hands, like praying, purses lips, focuses eyes on middle distance.
Long silence.
“The first thing that we’re picking up,” she finally says, “is that you’re a very honest and kind person. If you have something to tell somebody, you’re going to tell them face-to-face, and not talk behind their back. You like fun and good times, but really nothing foolish. You have a quick temper, a high temper, but it never lasts you too long. . . .”
Man thinks, hmm. Honest and kind enough. Also obedient, brave, reverent, clean, trustworthy, dentally hygienic. Not much of a temper, though, especially considering ethnic background.
“In the past two to three years, things haven’t been the way that you planned, the way that you’d choose and the way that you hoped for. . . . “
(Can say that again, man thinks.)
“You’re going to be moving away to another location. Another residence. I don’t think it’s this year. It’s a little bit down the road.”
(Not again, man grieves. Still seeing apartment-for-rent classified ads in sleep. Haven’t even furnished current dump yet.)
“There’s a little bit of money coming for you. I’m going to say within the next six to eight months, maybe a little bit longer. It’s not a lot of money, but it’s going to help. Right now would be a good time for you to invest in stocks, bonds or real estate. Your luck is very high there.”
(Man’s sails fill with visions of Armani by the closetful. Haut-Brion by the cellar-full. Of time on hands. Breathless social life.)
“In the past, I’m picking up that you were disappointed in love . . . “
(Crashes into iceberg of reality.)
” . . . not once, but twice. You’ve got a wall toward love . . . “
(Wince.)
” . . . but that wall is going to come down in about six to seven months, maybe a little less, maybe a little longer. But you will find happiness in love. You will be very happy in love. . . .”
(Man wonders if can get this in writing.)
Dorothy tells all: Legal papers are coming for man to sign. Someone will visit man with news of new baby (!!!). Man’s health is going to stay OK.
“You have a normal life,” Dorothy concludes. “From what I see, there’s nothing for you to worry about major. You are your own worst enemy. You’re too hard on yourself. Take a chill pill. Stay out of a red automobile, though. A red car. I see tragedy, something not good there. Stay out of there.”
Man nods, forks over 35 Georges.
Walks outside into indisputable here and now. Happy to be there. Thinks, why in world do people want to know future, anyway? Takes all the fun out. Spend life dreading bad stuff known to be on horizon. Rather be surprised. More interesting that way. Sleep better, too.
Man unlocks car. Can’t help being glad it’s gray.
