Page 56 of Trailer Park Billionaire

19

HELENA

“No way. We have to do this!”

I follow his gaze and see what he has discovered: a tent, dark purple fabric draped over a wooden frame, golden stars painted on the entrance. A sign out front that reads: Madame Clair(voyant) — Seer of Fate, Whisperer of the Unknowable.

My first instinct is to tell him that he’s crazy. My second is that we still haven’t found the canvas.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ben tries to fight my objections before they can properly form. “You’re thinking: One, we can’t waste time when we have actually important things to take care of. Two, giving money to someone conning people is a terrible investment.”

I nod.

“Three, Ben looks great in those pants he’s wearing today.”

I take a deep breath, but before I can give a snarky remark, Ben’s finger presses gently to my lips.

“And Four, how is it that he’s so good at reading my mind? Maybe he should be Mister Clairvoyant.”

His finger still lingers, while I consider biting it off. Just a little. Nine fingers are plenty.

He continues, “All very reasonable and logical thoughts. But may I offer… a different perspective.” Then his hand slips from my lips to interlock with my hand, and he smoothly guides us toward the tent. “See, the way I see it—we’re looking for something. And here is someone who can tell us exactly where to find that something. Plus,” he whispers into my ear as we near the entrance, “this woman may hold the secrets of the universe in her palm. We’d be fools to just walk away, Panda.”

“Secrets of the universe? I mean, I don’t doubt she holds the secrets of how to con gullible tourists out of twenty bucks.”

“Exactly!” Ben beams. “I love watching a colleague in action.”

Before I can come up with another reason why we shouldn’t, we’re inside the dimly lit tent. The air is thick with incense, the scent curling around us like a spell. Madame Clair sits behind a table draped in deep blue velvet, her hands resting on a crystal ball for dramatic effect. She peers at us with dark eyes, her presence both theatrical and strangely serious.

“Ah,” she says, smiling slowly. “A pair bound by fate and folly. This will prove interesting.”

Ben pulls a chair out for me to sit, then takes a seat next to me. “Well, we are fond of the folly.” He pauses, rather serious for a second. “And, yes, I suppose fate did bring us together.”

“The cards will reveal much,” she says, shuffling an old, well-worn tarot deck. “Ask what you wish.”

Ben leans in, conspiratorial. “We’re sort of… planning something together.”

“A future,” the Madame says knowingly.

Ben nods. “In a way, I suppose. How will it turn out—our future?”

Madame Clair fans the cards and gestures for one of us to draw. Ben defers to me, and I decide to save my sigh for later soas to not be rude. I place the card in front of her and she flips it over, revealing The Tower.

“Ah,” she says, tilting her head. “A great cataclysm. A crumbling of foundations. The end of something… and, perhaps, the beginning of something new.”

Of course, it’sthatcard. And of course it brings up my grandpa’s face again. All pain, no peace. It makes me sick to keep feeling like this. I cross my arms and try to keep the derision in check. “What an extremely specific and totally not ominous prediction.”

Madame Clair chuckles. “Mock if you wish, but the cards do not lie. You are both on a path that will change everything. It will bring destruction… but also revelation. And…” She fans the deck toward Ben, who pulls another card, setting it beside The Tower. The Lovers. “A choice of the heart. A bond tested by fire.”

“That actually all makes perfect sense,” Ben says, far too enthusiastically, then turns back to his colleague. “We’re looking for something. Do you happen to know where we can find it?”

Madame Clair chuckles again. “I do not. Butyoualready do.” She gathers the cards and shuffles them with a crooked grin, her earlier solemnity lifting. “I’d also check Craigslist and eBay. One can find almost anything on there these days.”

Ben laughs and nods his head. “We actually should check there. That was some premium-grade voyance, Madame Clair.”

She points to a laminated menu leaning against a big purple rock. Ben forks over a twenty, and the show is over before it really began.

“You need to be careful tonight,” Madame Clair adds as Ben bids her goodbye and opens the tent flap for me. She lays another card down. “Heed the warning. It is not I who brings it—it is fate. You’ve already set things in motion. But you need to be careful.”