1.

August 6th, 1978

The final hours of a carnival's stay in town had Heather Grace considering if she should go get her fortune told or not. She has always had an interest in horoscopes, fortune telling and the likes. The fascination that fate may have a path set out for each and every individual who ever had an existence on Earth is mind blowing.

The thoughts the decisions she has yet to make are being influenced by her surroundings, by stars in the night sky and by forces unbeknown to her is an incredible thing. She believes whole heartedly in a cosmic predictability. This however has also placed a fear within her. What if she were to go get her palm read, her fortune told or have tarot cards inform her of some kind of a certain disaster which is on its way to her? How could she live or go on with such knowledge?

Whether with banter or with seriousness, her friends and family over time have informed her many times in many different ways that she is being ridiculous. She should just live her life and do so to the best of her ability, deal with life as it comes, not worry if her future has happiness, sorrow, longevity or anything else which may come one's way either with or without a foresight and not to rely on the stars or tarot cards whenever she needs to make a decision.

With her interests being what they are, she had thought many times about having her cards read or palm read on some professional level but that irrational fear of hers always prevented her from doing so. No matter what anyone else thinks or says, her fear is real and in no way irrational. The carnival is about to leave town and it could be thought that carnival fortune tellers are there more as part of the carnival experience focusing more on atmosphere and enjoyment rather than on truth or anything else, and that is if what they do could be thought of as being in anyway real, still Heather teeters on going in.

'Go on ... give it a go' Heather's best friend tells her. 'I'll even come in with you.'

Itching to do it, Heather stares at Hazel for a moment. 'Oh, what the hell, it can't hurt, can it?'

Hazel takes Heather by the hand and in they go, two nineteen-year-olds acting more like two twelve-year-olds. 'C'mon, let's go ...'

Into a rather large dark coloured tent they do go. A small area void of all life is what they are hit with first. There is a thin black silk curtain a couple of feet ahead of them. Unsure as to if they should stay where they are or not, they decide to go through that veil. This walking into the tent to nothing other than a veil or thin curtain is something they presume is to set up a feeling of mystery and intrigue; yeah, it is possible that it may all be just carnival atmosphere related and nothing to do with real fortune telling.

Beyond that veil there is a small room like area lit by two small lamps, one just beyond and to the right of the thin curtain they have only just passed through and the other by the left-hand side corner of the far side of the room.

In the center of the room there is a small varnished circular wooden table. Three wooden chairs are by this table, two on the side of the table closest to the girls and one on the far side. Have the girls been expected, or is this just a regular set up? On the other side of the room there is another curtain. This one consists of dark stringed beads and thin strips of dark material similar to the material of the curtain they already have passed through.

'Good evening' speaks a heavy accented female voice from beyond that bead curtained veil, a voice that also sounds older but not so old for it to be thought that it might belongs to what could be considered a little old lady. It has a slight growl to it which also adds to the ambience. 'Good day to you both, my name is Madam Russo ... please be seated.'

Heather and Hazel look at one another and smile then sit together on their side of the table. As soon as they do this Madam Russo comes through that beaded curtain, briefly gives both the girls a visual once over, moves to the chair on her side of the table and sits. She then focuses her attention on Heather.

'My dear ... give me your right hand.'

Heather throws a look Hazel's way then does as she is told. How does she know that Heather is the reason why the two friends are here and not Hazel?

'Lovie ... tell me ...are you with child?'

'Me? What do you mean, like ... pregnant?'

'Yes, my dear.'

'No, no ... I am not pregnant.'

'No chance' Hazel states. 'She has never even had a boyfriend, and trust me, I would know.'

'My dear' continues the gypsy like fortune teller, 'it is coming soon. You will have a daughter in the very near future; she, your daughter will experience unimaginable pain in her lifetime. She will go on to have a daughter of her own and that child will be the source of great pain.'

Not liking what she hears, Heather takes back her hand. There is no fun to be had here. She has heard what she feared she might hear. Of course, she did not know exactly what she might be told though her fear of being told something bad has been realized. Not wanting any more information and also wanting details at the same time, Heather stands up.

'C'mon' Hazel tells Heather fearing how her friend may react to this in the days and weeks to come, 'you don't need this ...'

Heather does leave with her friend but not before insisting that the gypsy is paid. As much as she believes the truth, or a truth has been told to her she also believes in a power that people the likes of Madam Russo have and having some kind of an ability to place a hex on those who may vex her or leave without making payment. A vex placed upon her to a lack of payment is the last thing Heather would want to have happen especially when added to what has already come.

'Ya know that all we witnessed in there is just for show, don't you?' says Hazel once the two friends have exited the fortune teller's tent. 'She obviously saw something in you and took advantage of that.'

'No, she ... she is ...'

'What? ... Telling the truth? No, she isn't. You need to be with a guy to get pregnant and you are not seeing anyone I don't know about, are you?'

'Of course not.'

'Then that's it, nothing more than a load of horse shit.'

Heather smiles, half forced and half from what Hazel had just said.