Thing is, for fortune tellers, that’s really not such an odd thing, to be honest.
No matter how good they are, most of them find that the one future they’re always denied from seeing is their own.
Which is all pretty sensible, when you think about it.
I mean, how would you feel if you knew everything that was going to happen to you in the future?
You could hardly lie to yourself about that forthcoming illness, or that death in the family, now could you, eh?
Scary, huh?
But, see, whenever May sat down to try and work out her own future, it was even scarier.
Because it was all just a blank.
Like she herself was just a blank spot in life in general.
Like she didn’t exist.
For instance, you know all those lines on your hands?
All those life lines and love lines that the palmist reads to tell you how your life’s probably going to pan out?
Some people, their hands look like some sort of railway junction, there are so many lines to read, right?
Well when May looks at her own hands, see, she just has the slightest, shortest, shallowest lines where the hands naturally fold when you’re clamping them shut.
Like the barely visible creases in a piece of unfolded silk.
And that’s it. Everywhere else on her hand is, yeah, you’ve guessed it – blank.
Like a blank sheet.
Like her future, her story, even her existence, is waiting to be written there.
Weird, huh?
*
Chapter 11
Course, May doesn’t give up the prophesying.
She couldn’t give it up.
It intrigues her way too much.
She knows it works,
She can’t figure out how it works.
That’s why she stares at people’s backs.
Is the way they can sense it linked in some way to the way she can sense the future?
Is there some hidden connection between people, between everybody?
Because that’s how the cards work of course – connections.
One card alters the meaning of another. Which alters the meaning of a third. And so on.
Trying to work it out, it was almost driving her crazy.
She knew there must be an answer!
But what?
How was it possible to see the future?
Something that hasn’t even happened yet.
That’s how she became the ‘quiet girl’ of the class.
The ‘serious girl’.
The ‘Oh just ignore her’ girl.
Whichever one you call her, May doesn’t mind.
Her mind’s on other things.
Better things.
Like attempting to figure out why, when reading the cards, the runes, the I Ching, she keeps coming up with the worst of all possible futures.
Death.
And death for so many too.
*
She’s so adept at this now, the cards come to life in her hands.
They’re not cards anymore.
They’re people.
People moving across her small bedroom table, where she deals out and lays down her cards.
You wouldn’t be able to see it happening this way, of course.
But May, she sees miniature versions of friends (okay, yeah; her ex-friends) moving across the table.
Like she’s looking down from above on the town, on the school.
They cross paths.
They meet up.
They talk; silently, but they talk.
But all this incredible realism, it makes what May’s seeing all the more horrific.
It would be bad enough reading it in the cards.
Funerals.
People gathering around a body.
A family mourning.
But now it’s all being played out before her, like it’s all a miniature movie theatre.
It’s not as if she gets any relief putting the cards down and picking up the runes.
As they fall, they transform into figures too.
As do the I Ching hexagrams.
Figures that fall.
Figures that don’t get up.
*
Chapter 12
At school, May’s understandably nervous.
I mean, how do you react when you’re sitting in the same room as people who you know are going to die?
Not easy, huh?
Should she tell them?
‘Oh, hi Sammy; look, I don’t quite know how to say this but, see, you’re going to die before next week’s out?’
It’s not like May’s read any possible alternative future in the cards.
It’s just death; and that’s it, basically.
So what would be the point of telling them, if they can’t do anything to avoid it?
She’s worried for them, obviously.
Even for Sammy and Pat, who haven’t exactly been nice to her, have they?
She doesn’t think they deserve to die.
Sometimes, as she’s pondering what to do, she’s caught staring.
Staring at the girl she knows is going to die and she’s trying to work out how she can warn her.
Staring at the girl who she’s seen strewn across the floor, a pool of blood flowing out from her midriff.
Staring at the girl she’s seen with no face.
Naturally, when they catch May staring at them like this, they shudder.
‘What’re you staring at me like that for May?’
‘What do you think you’re doing, looking at me like that, witch?’
‘Stop it, stop it May! I’ve had it with your staring!’
Yeah, you’ve noticed right?
It’s all girls.
All girls apart from Ben.
May kids herself she can talk to Ben about it.
Hey, you ask me, she’d have a better response talking to the wall.
At least the wall ain’t gonna come back with snappy replies like, ‘Wow, cool!’ when May tells him it looks like it’s all gonna happen, it’s all gonna come true, kids are gonna die, it’s gonna be a bloodbath.
‘Ben! You’re not taking me seriously!’
‘Sure I’m taking you seriously. I’m just saying it’s cool that little witches like Sammy and Pat are soon gonna be meeting their maker.’
‘They don’t deserve to die Ben! And what about the others? They’re not all part of Sammy’s little coven.’
‘Yeah, it’s bit sad about them; but then again, since when have they been our friends, eh?’
‘So that’s it? Only our friends deserve to live?’
He laughs.
‘That would be a pretty small bunch of people, May.’
He points to her then to himself.
‘Like Adam and Eve all over again, eh?’
‘But you’re one of those who’re gonna die Ben!’ she blurts out, urgently grabbing his hands.
Her eyes are wide, tearful; she’s finally told him.
She expects him to be horrified.
Instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.
‘We’ve all gotta go sometime.’
‘Not next week Ben! You’re not supposed to go next week!’
He grins.
‘Hey, according to your cards – and I believe them, right? – according to your cards May, I am supposed to go next week.’
*
Chapter 13
Hey, what can I say?
Didn’t I tell you Ben was none too bright?
Thing is, even May’s got to recognise this fact, right?
Otherwise, how do you explain why she wasn’t being completely honest with him?
But look; instead of taking my word for it, how about you join me as I look in on May laying her cards out once more?
Who’s she doing it for?
She’s picking out of the pack – ah, yes!
Of course!
The Page. Wands.
&nbs
p; Sammy.
She’s thinking of Sammy as she’s placing the cards down.
And there she is; the gorgeous little Sammy prancing around on –
Oh, jeez; I forgot!
You can’t see how the cards actually come alive in May’s hands, can you?
Look, don’t worry; I’ll do what I’ve been doing up to now, and give you a running commentary, yeah?
See, this is getting really interesting, now. Because May deals these cards in a way that would put any card sharp to shame.
So we’ve got figures milling all over the place now. Some of them appearing a number of times too.
See, for those who don’t know, the tarot also has to take into account the past and the present.
And the past and the present of a number of people at that.
And no matter whose cards May’s reading – well, the cards of those who we know are going to die, leastways – do you know who always crops up?
Why, Ben of course.
Ben Wow-how-cool-is-that-that-people-are-going-to-die.
He’s loping around, keeping out of sight.
He’s following people.
He’s climbing up to a high point overlooking the school.
No, no; I shouldn’t say anymore.
I don’t want to frighten you.
Or, if you’re not easily shocked, I don’t want to spoil it for you.
Oh okay, go on then – he’s carrying a gun.
A sniper rifle too!
I can’t look anymore. I really can’t!
*
Chapter 14
Okay, okay; I don’t want to go scaring you unnecessarily.
So I’ll come clean and say we don’t actually see Ben shooting these people.
Which is just one of the many things about all this that’s confusing May.
Why aren’t the cards showing him shooting everyone?
Even when she reads Ben’s cards, we still don’t see him shooting anyone.
Why would that be?
Because he’s not actually going to shoot anyone?
Yet we see the bodies.
His amongst them.
Up on the hill.
The fired, smoking gun lying alongside him.
*
Oh oh.
It’s happening again!
You can’t see it, of course. But the figures are now all moving around as if they’re completely oblivious to the ground beneath their feet shaking and rocking violently, like their whole miniature community has been hit by an earthquake.
They’re quickly dissolving anyway. There’s nothing to keep them alive (no pun intended!) anyway, now May’s drifting off into a ‘deep sleep’.
Sure, that’s what May will tell herself afterwards; that she’d simply fallen into a ‘deep sleep’.
Even you, though, would be able to see the cards jumping up and down on the table like they’ve been made from Mexican jumping beans.
But, of course, it’s not the cards that are jumping.
It’s the table.
And not through any form of magic either.
It’s just May; she’s kicking it.
Kicking it again and again.
And hard too.
Like she’s really angry!
Really frustrated.
But she isn’t angry.
And she’s not kicking the table because she’s frustrated, either.
It’s just a fairly regular occurrence, this sort of thing.
Sorry! I forgot to mention these little ‘occurrences’, didn’t I?
To be honest, I was hoping I could get away without bringing them up.
For May’s sake, know what I mean?
No! Don’t go asking her just what she thinks she’s doing!
She doesn’t know she’s doing it!
*
Even when she eventually comes around, May won’t admit she was the one who kicked the table over.
See, May has her own secret.
So secret, in fact, that she doesn’t even know about it herself!
Course, she’ll see the cards spilt across the floor.
She might even have a few bruises on her legs or arms, like she usually has after one of these events.
She’ll definitely have an aching jaw.
A raging headache.
Chances are, she’ll have bitten her tongue too.
Yet she’ll put everything down to her falling asleep and banging her head, her arms, her legs, as she slipped to the floor.
What other explanation could there be? she’ll ask herself.
She won’t remember a single thing about what happened, see?
Like it’s a complete blank in her life.
Strange isn’t it, that she can know so much about everyone else, but so little about herself?
*
Chapter 15
What with everything poor May’s going through, I’m beginning to wonder when the best time for me to introduce myself would be.
Trouble is, the way I’m hanging around her, waiting for the most opportune moment to show myself, I’m just increasing her nervousness, aren’t I?
The way she keeps on getting this weird feeling she’s being watched.
Being followed.
Know what?
At school, every now and again I’ve let her catch the odd, briefest glimpse of me.
So it’s almost like she’s catching something in the corner of her eye. But, when she turns fully around, I’m no longer there.
Like she’s been haunted by the school ghost.
(You know the sort of thing; Mary Higgins, killed after falling down the main staircase, fourteenth of June, nineteen sixty four.)
I think it would be too much for her, just yet, to get similar glimpses of me at home.
But it’s such a dilemma for me, see?
I mean, when I do show myself, I know for a fact she’s going to be surprised.
Like, way way way surprised!
But I also know she ain’t gonna be ecstatic.
Oh no no no.
She ain’t gonna be ecstatic at all.
*
Chapter 16
What’s that?
You’ve figured out who I am?
I’m the devil!
Damn!
You guessed!
You’ve got me!
Clever clever you!
No, no, wait; I’m only kidding!
Course I’m not the devil!
I mean, what would I be doing hanging around here talking to you if I were the devil?
At the very least, right, I’d I be trying to trick you into selling me your soul, wouldn’t I?
Isn’t that what the devil’s supposed to try and do?
So…how much do you want for it then?
Kidding! Only kidding!
Hang on though – I suppose the devil would say that, wouldn’t he?
You know, it’s not like he’s gonna come straight out with it, is it?
Hi, I’m Mr Lucifer – oh, wait.
He doesn’t usually call himself that, does he?
You know, in the movies?
It’s always like his name’s backwards or something, isn’t it?
Like Mr Lived. (How weird is that? The devil backwards is lived?) Or Lue Cifer. Or perhaps an anagram, like Stan Maia. (Oh come on – work it out for yourself!)
But, just to reassure you, I haven’t got any name like that, okay?
Fact is, I haven’t really got any name at all, I suppose.
So to clear things up as best as I can for now, let’s just say I’ve known May a very very long time, right?
*
Chapter 17
Like I said, when May finally came around, she told herself that she must have been exhausted, that she must have dropped off to sleep.
That she’d banged her head on the table as she fell as she’d slipped off into slumber land.
That she’d bit her tongue (again!) as she’d banged the table.
Bl
ah blah blah.
Yeah, I hear it every time.
(Sure I can hear it! May doesn’t have to speak for me to hear her!)
At least, this time there’s a bonus, she reckons, to her ‘short nap’.
She’s had an inspiration.
She doesn’t have to tell the girls that they’re going to die.
She just has to tell them to stay away from school next week.
Simple, yeah?
Sometimes, inspirations aren’t really all that great, are they?
Still, I’ve got to be honest – I can’t think of anything better.
So who am I to talk?
Bet she looks a fool though.
*
Yeah, she looks a fool.
‘Trust me,’ she says. ‘You’ve got to stay away from school next week.’
Like, what would you say if someone came up to you in the break and told you that?
Well, sure, so now you’ve got some idea of the reaction May was getting.
‘Have you completely lost it May?’
‘Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?’
‘What? Just what the heck are you on these days May?’
And they were the polite ones.
‘Look, please, I can’t explain it!’ May desperately persists. ‘But surely you remember how I used to get all those predictions right when–’
‘No you didn’t May!’ Pat hits back. ‘It was just a bit of fun! Telling us which boys fancied us!’
‘Yeah, that hardly makes you Nostradamus,’ one of the other girls hanging out with her agrees.
‘Hasn’t all this “Oohh, look at me, I have magical powers” rubbish gone too far May!’ Pat snaps.
‘Yeah,’ Sammy titters, ‘you seem to think you’re Hermione what’s her name out of Harry Potter these days May!’
‘It’s not magic! It just…just happens!’
May’s getting frantic now, her mind racing as she tries to think of a way of persuading everyone she’s serious.
Unfortunately, her mind doesn’t come up with the best way of doing it.
‘Okay Sammy, Pat, Liz; so you think I can’t see the future, right? So tell me how I know this Sammy – you like making out you’re God’s gift to boys, right? But really, whenever you see yourself naked in a mirror, you’re worried about your hips, your fatty thighs. You spend ages choosing the right dresses to hide it.’
May’s on a mission to save everyone.
That’s why she doesn’t see the dropping jaws, the eyes widening in shock and anger.