Madam Zonga WC:632

Madam Zonga
WC 632

Arnold Becker was strolling down Main Street admiring the holiday lights. He loved this time of the year. It lifted him from his sadness.

He stopped in front of a shop. There were no lights, only a sign: MADAM ZONGA. KNOW YOUR FUTURE.

I'd love to know what happens next. Can’t be any worse than what has happened. At least I’d be prepared.

Arnold entered the shop. Darkness and the faint smell of incense greeted him.

“Hello?”

He waited a bit and then turned to leave.

“Sir, are you interested in knowing your future?”

Standing in the doorway was this exotic woman dressed in purple, red, and gold. The first thing he noticed was the turquoise blue eye shadow and the deep ruby red lips. She was wearing a peasant blouse, a long flowing skirt, and a scarf. Around her neck, she wore long strands of gold chains, on her wrists, bangle bracelets. Her fingers dripped in gaudy jeweled rings. The scarf was multicolored and worn low on the forehead. A mass of red curls peeked from under the scarf. Huge gold rings hung from her ears.

She’d win the prize for best Halloween costume, that’s for sure.

He couldn’t help but smile.

“I guess I am,” he answered.

“Is something funny, young man?”

“Just nervous.”

“Fair enough. I am Madam Zonga. I will be your guide. Come this way.”

After they were seated, the fortune teller pulled out a deck of tarot cards. There was also a cup containing loose tea and a teapot on the table.

“So, you’re into astronomy?”

“Astrology.”

“Oh, sorry. Yes.”

“Yes, I am into astrology, but tarot is better for advice on a specific aspect of life or a look into your spiritual side. I feel that is what you need. Am I right?”

Arnold fidgeted in his seat.

Madam Zonga laid out three cards.

“Before we begin, there is the matter of payment.”

“Payment?”

“Just like you, Mr. Becker, I have to pay my bills.”

How does she know my name?

“The fee is seventy-five dollars for the first half-hour. I take Visa or cash. Cash is best.”

Arnold was in a quandary. He was curious but not curious enough to spend that much money. He didn’t understand how she knew his name. Maybe she could help him figure out a few things.

“I just happened upon your shop.”

“I see.” Madam Zonga said as she put the cards back in the deck.

She started to pour hot water into the teacup and then stopped. “I don’t mean to be rude sir, but I need you to submit payment, or we cannot continue.”

His interest peaked, Arnold took seventy-five dollars out of his wallet and slid it in the fortune teller’s direction.”

She instructed him to sip the tea through his teeth and leave just a bit in the bottom.

I’ve never paid seventy-five dollars for a cup of tea.

“Now, think of something you want an answer to. Something pressing.”

“Do I need to say it out loud?”

“Your preference, Mr. Becker. I will know either way.”

Arnold thought of a question and kept it to himself.

As Madam Zonga read the tea leaves, Arnold looked around the sparsely appointed room. He began to question what he is doing.

Why was he drawn to this shop? Was it because it was in such stark contrast to the holiday theme? He became uneasy.

“Mr. Becker,” she said, “I see an emergency cat in your future?

“An emergency cat? Like a seeing-eye dog, or a service animal?”

“Emergency cat is what I see.”

Arnold pushed his chair away from the table.

“I’m not finished, Mr. Becker.”

“But I am.”

He fled the shop without looking back.

An emergency cat! One more thing to add to my paranoia. Thanks, Madam Zonga.