I walked slowly in the open area, on the freshly spread sawdust, inhaling the cool air deeply, but it felt too thin in my lungs. Since yesterday's funeral, I had felt like I couldn't quite catch my breath—as if the world had lost some of its oxygen. Past the games in one direction were the rides and food concessions. In the other direction was a row of colorful sideshow tents. At the farthest end of the row, men strived against the wind to raise the roof of another one. They all had huge banners mounted high above, advertising their shows: Professor Emeritus’ Fabulous Oddities, The Two Faced Man, The World's Smallest Animals, and Madam Montana—Fortune Teller. I turned and walked towards the sideshows.

The Madam Montana banner had a life-size portrait of the fortune teller. On her head was a black turban with a large jewel mounted on the front. She sat on a red and gold throne behind a table draped in red velvet. Tarot cards were ranked on it for her review. In the center of the table was a crystal ball. It glowed with an inner light that reflected from her eyes, shining in her dark Mediterranean face.

A woman stood at the entrance to the tent, smoking a cigarette. She wore a puffy purple blouse, a calf length denim prairie skirt, and cowgirl boots decorated with mystical symbols. Her face looked a lot like the one on the banner, but older.
"Tell your fortune, kid?" She tossed her cigarette onto the red dirt. "Predict your love life? You look like you might have problems with malevolent spirits. I can take care of that, too."

"Can you really predict my future?"

"Sure, kid. Five bucks."

"I don't have five bucks."

She squinted at me, looked up and down the row of tents and back to me. "Two-fifty."

"Sorry, I'm broke. I don't get paid till Friday."

"Well...come on in anyway and I'll give you a free introductory reading." Madame Montana spun around. Her skirt swirled like a dust devil and she disappeared into the tent. I followed. Stepping from the bright outdoors into the darker tent, I was momentarily blinded. I stopped in the darkness. The room smelled of incense over stale cigarette smoke and mildewed tent canvas. The light from outside was cut off as she slid the curtain across the entry behind me. A dim cactus lamp with a western landscape shade was the only illumination. Centered in the room was a card table covered with a dingy red tablecloth. No crystal ball. Folding chairs huddled around it. There was the throne, as pictured, but in real life it looked old and beat up—not like an antique, but like a discarded stage prop. She took her seat, I took mine.

"Hold out your right hand...palm up." She grabbed my wrist and pulled it forward, causing me to lean out over the table. Studying my palm, she traced her finger lightly along its lines, mumbling to herself. It tickled.

"You're not too good with managing money...and you've been painting something..."

"I'm a sign painter," I volunteered.

"I can see that in your palm. I will now..." the importance of her words was evident in her careful emphasis on each one, "...read your future."

Suddenly, as if it had grown too hot to hold, she dropped my hand. It thumped on the table. She raised her hands, palms out, fingers splayed, her eyes shut tight. Her body jerked as if from an electric shock. Startled, I pushed myself as far back in my chair as possible, gripping the tablecloth. She slammed her hands loudly onto the table. When I looked back up from her hands to her face, her eyes were open wide, staring at me.
Softly, her voice husky, she said, "I have read your future." She sat back in her chair and relaxed. "Well, kid, I'll see you Friday." Grabbing her cigarette pack and lighter, she got up and yanked back the curtain.

"Wait...wait," I called out, almost panicky. I swiveled sideways in my chair and blinked in the bright daylight. "You said you would tell me my future!"

"No, I didn't. I said I would read your future. I never promised to tell you. Come back Friday, though, and I'll see what I can do."

"You're just a crook!"

"You want your money back?"

I sat at the table with my head in my hands. I was so disappointed. "I was just hoping for some guidance, some wisdom."

She walked back over to me and put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You want some wisdom, kid? Okay." She inhaled deeply from her cigarette and blew it out. "Wherever you go in life, that is your path. When your path crosses the path of another, look first in the direction they are coming from. Then, look in the direction they are going. Only then will you know if it is safe for you to allow your path to intersect with theirs."

I turned back around in my chair and looked up at her. The daylight from behind her shining through the cloud of cigarette smoke created a halo surrounding her body. I stood and walked to the doorway as she returned to her throne. As I passed through the opening, and the light of day and reason shone on me, I stopped short and turned. "You just told me to look both ways before crossing the street, didn't you?"

She blew out smoke and smiled. "Now, you're getting wise, kid. No extra charge."

I stepped out into the open. I hadn't paid her anything, yet I felt a little more broke. Examining my palm, I noticed some dried paint on my thumb and tried to scratch it off.