The psychic blinked. He saw a chill run through her shoulders as they vibrated in a full-body shake. Then she stepped forward and walked past the two of them.
He looked at Ashley and thought,
Where the hell did you find this five-foot little bitch?
“Please, follow me,” the psychic said.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Jerry leaned down and whispered to Ashley.
She smacked his arm. “Please. Try to behave.”
“This is fucked. If she disrespects me again, I’m done. Got that? No
fucking
around. I don’t even want to be here.”
“I know.” Ashley turned to face him and gripped both his arms. “Do this for me. Please. We’ll be out of here in thirty minutes.”
Jerry nodded.
Fine. Fuck it.
Ashley moved away. He blew out a calming breath through his teeth, and followed her down the hall.
Shit, what the hell am I doing here?
In the kitchen, the psychic had set up a fancy table with five chairs, evenly spread out, except for the head chair. It sat three feet from any other.
She really doesn’t like to be touched.
Incense burned in every corner of the room. It was almost enough to make Jerry gag.
How the hell am I supposed to breathe in here?
He reached into his breast pocket and produced his cigarette pack. With the deft ability of a life-time smoker, he flipper the top open, jolted the pack with the snap of his wrist causing one cigarette to rise above the rest, and clamped his lips on it.
“No smoking in here, please,” the psychic said.
Ashley tapped his arm. “Jerry,
please.
”
“What?” He raised his shoulders and extended both hands. “There’s so much smoke in here already. Explain to me how one little cancer stick will matter. Seriously.”
Ashley looked at him with her pleading eyes, her chin lowered, eyebrows raised. She knew it was the one look that always melted him.
“Okay, okay. But this shit is starting to piss me off. Now, on with the show.”
He grabbed a chair, pulled it out, and plunked down hard.
Ashley looked at the psychic. “I’m sorry. Jerry doesn’t really believe in psychics. If you want, you can still do a reading for him as planned, but really, he’s here to support me. Will that still be okay?”
The psychic eased her chair out and slowly sat on it. Everything seemed calculated and precise. Either she had a major OCD complex, or she was just fucked.
What was bothering Jerry the most was how she wouldn’t look at him. Ever since the prolonged stare in the hallway she had avoided all eye contact.
“I understand. Such is the nature of my gift. Let us begin, shall we?”
Ashley nodded and sneaked a look at Jerry. He pursed his lips and sliced a grim smile across his face.
The psychic reached for a remote control sitting on the counter beside her, touched some buttons, and the lights in the kitchen dimmed. From the same counter, she took a pair of sunglasses, and placed them on her head.
Then she began mumbling to herself.
Jerry fought an internal urge to stand up and walk out. The only thing that stopped him was the aftermath. Ashley would be so pissed that the whole night would be ruined, and sex would be out of the question. Ashley knew he was ready to bolt. She’d placed a calming hand on his knee under the table and softly squeezed. What was meant as a reassuring gesture only added to his urge to leave.
Sitting in a darkened kitchen filled with incense smoke, watching a psychic talk to herself while wearing a green sweater and stupid sunglasses, only added to his state of agitation. When Ashley touched him under the table, he almost shouted out in surprise.
The psychic’s head lifted. She appeared to be staring straight ahead at nothing.
What the fuck is this now?
“I’m sorry,” she began. “Excuse my mumbling. I always ask to be surrounded by clean spirits. Sometimes emotionally charged entities can disturb our time together.” She lifted her right hand and placed it on the table, palm up. Then she did the same with her left. “I will only be able to accept half my usual fee.”
Ashley looked at Jerry and then back to the psychic. “Why’s that?”
“I’m sorry. I cannot do a reading for the man you have brought here today. Also, his energy is blocking me somewhat.”
The fight to hold his tongue was intense. If Ashley didn’t speak as fast as she did, Jerry would’ve cussed the woman out and left, probably breaking the door on his way.
“Why can’t you? The appointment was set for the both of us.”
“I am a psychic. In order to use my gift to offer a positive reading, I made a commitment that I would never lie to a client.”
“Okay, that’s noble,” Ashley said. “What does that have to do with Jerry? He’s not asking you to lie.”
The psychic lowered her head. “Are you sure you want to hear what I have to say? You won’t like it.”
Ashley looked at Jerry, her face asking him to answer. He only nodded. Using his mouth at that moment would only cause a disturbance and Ashley would blame him for fucking everything up.
Shit, no matter how I look at it, I’m going to be blamed for this.
“Please tell us what the problem is,” Ashley said as she looked back at the psychic.
The woman’s head was still facing down. She mumbled something under her breath.
Jerry had had enough. “What was that?” he snapped.
Ashley’s hand tightened on his thigh.
“I said, sometimes I hate my job.”
Jerry could tell Ashley was getting scared when she spoke again.
“Tell us, please. What’s wrong with Jerry? What’s going to happen to him?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”
“What do you mean
you don’t know
?”
“I can’t see a future for him after Saturday night.”
Jerry exploded from the table, bumping it as he stood up. “What the fuck is this? You wanna start talking bitch, and fast.”
“Jerry!” Ashley screamed.
“No, wait, I understand his anger,” the psychic said.
“You better, because no one threatens me. What’s supposed to happen Saturday?”
“All I see is something about a delivery truck. You driving it. Then nothing. I don’t understand it. I’m feeling blocked. Maybe your disbelief is locking me up.”
“Oh sure, blame me after you say I’m going to die.”
Ashley was crying softly now.
Bet you didn’t bargain for this, did you?
“We’re outta here. Let’s go Ashley.”
She remained sitting. “Wait, please. Is there anything else…you can tell us? What about our son, Joshua? Is he here?”
“I’m sorry. I think it’s better if you both leave. The energy in here has darkened and it’s now attracting negative energy.”
“Is there anything Jerry can do?” Ashley wiped her eyes.
Jerry hated to see her cry. He couldn’t be there anymore. He turned on his heels and stormed outside. Even before he hit the door, he had a cigarette in his mouth, and lit.
#
“You know as well as I do that you’ll be dead before the night is over. I can’t believe that you’d even consider doing this.”
“Look honey, I’m left with no choice. I don’t believe in psychics. No one can tell you whether you live or die.” He pulled his jacket on and stepped back to lean on the wall. “After I do this job, we’ll be able to pay the rent, and buy groceries again.”
Ashley stared at him and wondered if this would be the final straw. Would this push her to leave, after all they’d been through? She’d stayed with him during his stint in jail. She’d stayed when the collapse of their marriage looked imminent after the death of their only child. She’d stay with him through anything, except when he knowingly wants to test fate at the cost of his life.
“I can’t sit idly by and watch you kill yourself.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He raised both hands in the air. “All I have to do is drive a truck twenty kilometers, drop it off, leave the keys in the ignition and walk away. And for that, a cool ten grand. We can start living again. That old weird fucking psychic didn’t know what she was talking about.”
“Sure she didn’t. It’s Saturday night. You’re hired to drive a delivery truck.” Ashley slapped his arm. “Come on. You’re smarter than that. Even if she’s wrong, you don’t fuck with fate.” Ashley looked away, her eyes filling up. A year ago she’d lost her son. Tonight she felt like she was losing her husband. Fierce determination to change his mind seized her. The only way to save his life was to force him to stay. “Ever since our son had his accident you’ve changed,” Ashley said as tears pushed past her eyelids.
“Changed?”
Using her right hand, she pulled finger after finger down as she rambled off her list of sorrow. “You lost your job. You starting dealing drugs, and the problems with your drinking have almost killed you numerous times. When the police raided the factory and arrested those people for narcotics offenses, one of them had to be you. Six months in jail, a big part of your life, gone, just gone, forever. And now you want to deliver a truck for the same guys who put you in jail.”
Jerry shook his head back and forth. “I don’t understand you. What is illegal about driving a truck twenty kilometers? No one can arrest me for that. I’ll be completely safe. It’s late in the evening. Traffic will be light. I’ll be extra careful.”
“It’s what’s in the truck that scares me. You know exactly the kind of stuff these people will be shipping. The thing that’s really frightening is that you could be risking your life and you don’t even believe it. I wish Joshua were here. He’d talk you out of it.”
“None of this would be happening if Josh hadn’t died last year. I would’ve never started dealing. We both dealt with the loss of our son in different ways. My detox program helped me understand a lot about what I was doing to handle the loss of Josh. But this job tonight can set the record straight.” He snapped his fingers hard. “Just like that, ten thousand dollars.”
“Just like that,” Ashley imitated his snap, “dead.”
She moved closer to him. “Please don’t do it. Stay home.”
“I can’t. Once you give your word to these guys you have to keep it. There’s no going back now.”
“Then let’s make a break for it. We’ve got nothing left to keep us here but bad memories and sadness.”
Jerry shook his head in an exaggerated version of no. “If they wanted to, they would find us. I have to do this last job, and I will.”
He turned to snatch up his car keys and cell phone. Ashley stopped him with her sharp words.
“Don’t expect me to be here when you return.” She had nothing left in her arsenal. This was the final blow.
She turned away to hide her tears. When the door slammed shut behind him, she walked to the front window and watched him moving toward his car, knowing she’d never see him alive again.
#
Jerry kept his speed down on the way to the factory. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over for speeding and then have to deal with the police.
The factory looked darker than usual. Some of the lights were out. As he pulled up to the security gate, the door started on its rollers to admit him. No one was there to look at his badge.
He drove through and made his way to the back of the building where they said the truck would be sitting. After parking, Jerry walked around and tried the truck’s driver’s-side door. It was unlocked.
He looked left and right, but saw no one. Something stuck in his gut: what if the psychic was right? What if he
was
supposed to die tonight?