Chosen

“Shirl, this is ridiculous. You might as well take your five bucks and toss it in the trash.” Laverne glared at her friend with her arms crossed and right foot tapping.

Shirley pointed at the sign in front of the tent and made a shushing motion at Laverne. “Be nice! I need this woman’s advice!”

“She’s not a woman, she’s a gypsy!” scoffed Laverne. “A carnie, just waiting to take money from gullible young things like you. What do you expect her to tell you that you don’t already know?”

Shirley sighed. “I want her to tell me what to do!”

“About Carmine?”

“Yes, about Carmine! The man asked me to marry him and I want to know what would happen if I said yes.”

“It don’t matter anymore, because you turned him down, remember?”

“I know that!” Shirley paced back and forth, twisting her purse in her hands. “That doesn’t mean I was right to do it.”

“Shirley.” Laverne hung her head and shook it wearily. “You made your decision. You said you didn’t think he was the right man, not for the rest of your life. You love him, but aren’t in love with him…sound familiar?”

“I know what I said.” Shirley stopped pacing and stared at the grassy path that wound through the carnival.

“So?” Laverne waited. “Shirl, it’s a little too late to be having second thoughts. Carmine left town…”

“Not forever! He just wanted to go away for a little while, that’s all.” She bit her lower lip.

“You sure about that? After all, you were the one person tying him to Burbank. Why come back?”

“Because!” Shirley exclaimed. “Because I need him!”

Laverne stared, then shook her head sharply. “Wait a minute. Shirl, if you need him so much, then why…?”

“I don’t know!” Her friend flung her arms into the air. “He caught me by surprise, that’s all! We’ve been going out for so long and he’s never wanted a commitment until now. We were always free to move on if one of us found someone…”

“…better?” Laverne supplied. “Yeah, real nice arrangement, that. ‘You’ll do until I find someone I prefer.’ I never understood….”

“Be that as it may,” said Shirley, frowning up at her. “It worked for us.”

“Well I guess it stopped working for him, or he wouldn’t have proposed.”

Shirley looked away again. “He was just doing what he thought I wanted him to do.”

“Oh? How do you figure?”

“Carmine knows I’ve been hearing my biological clock ticking. He also knows that I haven’t landed a single actor or doctor beyond a date or two. He was just…being Carmine.”

“You think he proposed out of pity?” Laverne chuckled. “That’s a heckuva sacrifice.”

Shirley shook her head, staring blankly into the distance. “He looked like I sucker punched him when I said no. I thought he’d be relieved, but….”

“Are you coming in here or not?” snapped the middle-aged woman, poking her head out from between the folds of her tent.

Both girls jumped. Laverne frowned at the gypsy. “Hey, you been eavesdropping on us the whole time?”

“It’s not eavesdropping if you’re yakking right in my ear!” The woman’s icy gray eyes lingered on Laverne’s face until the younger woman became uncomfortable. With an odd smile, the gypsy turned to face Shirley. “You want answers? I got answers. Only five bucks.”

“Oh…okay.” Shirley fumbled in her purse and stepped toward the tent. The gypsy swept her layered, colorful skirts out of her way as she passed. When Laverne approached, the woman gave her an exaggerated bow. “After you, Princess.”

“Thanks,” snarled Laverne, walking into the tent. She looked around saw that the small space had photographs from Italy hanging on the drapes, some of which were similar to pictures her Pop had at home. In the middle of the area was a small table and two folding chairs. On the table was the requisite crystal ball, along with a deck of fancy-looking cards.

Shirley slid obediently into one of the chairs and the gypsy, who the small wooden sign on the table identified as Madame Donna, sat on the other. Her reddish-gray hair was swept up and back in an elaborate twist, revealing a face lined by life and weather. Laverne thought that she might have been pretty, once. “You don’t sound like no gypsy I ever heard.”

“Oh? Vould you prefer I speak ze broken English, like Dracula?” Madame Donna gave a derisive snort. “My family is Roma, but we’ve lived in California for decades. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Laverne sneered, but Shirley broke in before she could retort. “Madame Donna, since you are, um, already aware of my concern, do you think you can help me? I just want to know…”

“…about your boyfriend and whether or not you have a future together. Yes, I can help you, although I can’t guarantee you’ll like the answer.” The woman tapped the table. “That is why I need my five dollars now.”

“Oh. Oh, yes, of course.” Shirley pulled out the bill and laid it on the table.

Madame Donna’s demeanor immediately warmed. “Thank you. Some people don’t like what they hear, they don’t pay. You understand.”

“Yes, sure.” Shirley leaned across the table, peering into the crystal ball. “So, what’s it going to be? Should I find Carmine and tell him I want to marry him, or would our marriage turn out to be a disaster that we’d both regret?”

“Slow down, little miss. I have to actually look first.” The gypsy picked up the crystal ball and put in on the floor. At Shirley’s confused expression, she added, “That’s just for show. It’s the cards that hold all the answers.”

“Tarot cards?” Laverne rolled her eyes.

Madame Donna spared her a withering look. “So you’ve heard of the tarot? From your mother, no doubt.”

Laverne arched one eyebrow in her direction. “Yeah, so? When I was a kid she told me about them.”

“And let me guess. Your father laughed and told her to stop filling your head with superstitious nonsense?”

Despite herself, a shiver went down Laverne’s spine. “How did you…I mean, anyone could’ve guessed that!”

Madame Donna sighed, then returned her attention to Shirley. “Hold the deck in your hands for a moment or two. This will imprint the cards with your aura.” Shirley obeyed, squeezing them tightly and closing her eyes. “Hey, careful, don’t bend them! Those decks aren’t cheap!”

“Sorry.”

“Now, give them to me.” Shirley handed them over. Madame Donna whispered something under her breath in a language that was close to Italian but just different enough for Laverne not to be able to place. Then the gypsy slowly dealt the cards, placing some side-by-side and others at angles, until nearly the entire small tabletop was covered. Madame Donna studied the faces of the cards for a couple of minutes, while Shirley sat in rapt silence. Laverne glanced at her watch and wondered how much longer this silliness was going to take.

The gypsy’s mouth fell open, and she visibly paled. Her hand trembled over an arrangement of three cards, then she pressed it against her throat. “What?” asked Shirley, her fingers twitching against the edge of the table. “What do you see?” Laverne leaned in a little closer, wondering what sort of angle Madame Donna was going for.

“I…I see your future.”

“Oh, brilliant. Isn’t that the point?” Laverne muttered. Shirley whipped her head around and shushed her.

“The path,” the gypsy continued, her voice shaking. “It isn’t what you expected. No one ever expects to be called.”

Shirley shook her head. “I don’t understand. Called?”

“You mean, Shirl’s not going to get married, but instead she’s gonna become a nun?” Laverne chuckled.

“No, not that calling!” snapped the gypsy. “I see a blond man, far across this country. He is under the ground and fighting…a Negro woman…tonight, she will fall.”

“Oh, come on!” Laverne grabbed Shirley’s arm. “She ain’t even reading the right script!”

“Wait!” Shirley commanded, pulling away. To Madame Donna, she said, “Please, I don’t understand. What does this have to do with me and Carmine?”

“There is no Carmine, not anymore.” The gypsy sighed. “His soul was lost last night.”

Laverne’s heart skipped a beat. She knew this was all an act, she knew it, but the way Madame Donna spoke, her expression….

“Are…are you saying something happened to Carmine?” Shirley whispered, her lower lip trembling. “That he’s…?”

“Beyond life. Beyond death, as well. I am sorry. But marriage and a house with a white picket fence and a dog and children were not meant for you, anyway.” Madame Donna reached across the table and grasped Shirley’s hands, eliciting a gasp from the young woman. “It is later than usual, but the last Chosen One survived much longer than average. Perhaps you will, too, but you’ll need a Watcher.”

Shirley’s back stiffened and she yanked her hands away. “This is all crazy. You’re not making any sense! Laverne was right – you’re just a fraud and I’m wasting my money and time!” She stood up and started toward the flap in the tent. “Come on, Laverne, let’s go.”

“You cannot walk away from this!” Madame Donna cried, standing up so fast she nearly knocked the table over. “Shirley Feeney, you will be Called. And the man you loved will become your prey!”

Laverne put her arm around Shirley. “Cut it out! Boy, I don’t get you, lady. You expect to keep making money with crap like this?”

“Fool! This isn’t about money, Laverne DeFazio, daughter of Josephine Ragoczy.” She jabbed an accusatory finger at her. “You deny, but only yourself and your Roma blood!”

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Laverne started to pull Shirley away, but her little friend raised a hand and turned back to the gypsy. “What, now?”

“How…how did you know my name?”

“She saw it on your license when you took out your wallet,” scoffed Laverne. “It’s an old carnie trick.”

“You didn’t take out a wallet,” Shirley said. “And she knew your mother’s name, too. How is that possible?”

“You know why it is possible,” Madame Donna answered, drawing closer to them. Her eyes were on Laverne’s. “Please, forget the money, this is not about money.” She pulled out Shirley’s five dollars and shoved it at her. “Greater forces are at work here. You will need her help,” and Madame Donna nodded at Laverne. “But ultimately, the path you walk is solitary. I am truly sorry, Shirley.”

“Are you sure?” Shirley whispered. “About Carmine?”

The gypsy nodded. “He is lost to you.” Suddenly, the woman’s eyes glittered. “Unless….”

“That’s enough!” shouted Laverne. She grasped Shirley by the wrist and yanked her through the flap of the tent.

“Wait!” cried Shirley, but Laverne wouldn’t let go. She dragged her friend away, halfway down the midway where the lights were coming on as dusk approached.

“No, Shirl, enough!” Laverne halted and glared at her friend. “This is ridiculous, and it’s upsetting you for no reason! That old kook isn’t even making any sense!”

“So how did she know…?”

“I don’t know! Some trick of the trade, whatever. But she’s saying terrible things and it’s no good listening to her.”

“My God,” Shirley sank down onto a nearby bench. “Carmine. He can’t be….”

“He isn’t! Shirl, he’s not dead!”

“She didn’t say that, exactly.” Shirley wrung her hands in her lap. “Beyond life, beyond death.”

“And that means exactly what? Diddly-squat, that’s what!” Laverne took a deep breath, trying to still her too-rapid heartbeat. Damn it all, but the gypsy had gotten to her, too. “Shirl, let’s just go home, okay? We’ll have a nice dinner, a couple glasses of wine, and laugh about all this in the morning. Come on.”

Shirley looked up at her and managed a wan smile. “Yeah, sure. I know you’re right. After all, if something had happened to Carmine, I’d know. I’d sense it, somehow –right?”

Laverne forced a smile. “Sure you would.”

***

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To Part Two