Write On Press Presents: The Ultimate Collection of Original Short Fiction Volume I, Page 3

  But I didn't believe her. And I was kinda weirded out by this current turn of events. So I slurped my grape soda in silence and tried to think of something to say.

  “So, can I get your phone number?” I finally said. Because why not, right?

  That night, I lay in my bed and wondered a great many things. I wondered if Anna was the female version of the deeply disturbed library dwellers. I wondered if it was fair to call her that considering she was from a different country and had, evidently, seen a lot more hardship than I ever will. And then I thought, what if she is actually right, and I'm the fool for not believing her. What if ten years from now I will be standing in a deserted street, huddled around a fire barrel while America burns all around me, thinking back to that one cute girl from the library who tried her best to warn me of the dangers ahead.

  Either way, I finally thought, I should probably wait two days before I text her.

  ~*~

  The Cards Don’t Lie

  By

  Taymika G. Byrd

  “I can’t believe you have me coming with you to do this,” Colette said to Lisa as they walked past the Cabildo and turned to go down Saint Peter Street towards Royal.

  “Oh Colette don’t be such a stick in the mud, this will be fun.”

  “I’m sure,” Colette said rolling her eyes, “how did you find this place again?”

  “One of my girlfriends told me about it, she said it was great.”

  They walked a few more feet and Lisa stopped so suddenly that Colette almost ran into her. “Geez Lisa! A little warning next time.”

  “Oh, sorry honey, we’re here?”

  Colette looked around; she didn’t see anything, “where exactly are we?”

  “Here,” Lisa said and stepped through the doorway.

  Colette stepped in behind her and stopped short. The “shop” was about the size of her closet but more crowded. As she looked around the dimly lit half-room she noticed that although it was a little overly stuffed for her taste it was at least well organized.

  In the corner sat a little old woman wearing a very colorful wrap. In front of her was a low table and two low stools.

  “Good afternoon ladies, how may I help you?” she said in a crisp clear voice that did not match her face.

  “Hi! I’m Lisa; I came to have my cards read.”

  “Wonderful! Please have a seat. Am I doing a reading for each of you?”

  “No,” Colette said quickly, “I’m here for moral support.”

  “I see.”

  Turning to Lisa the woman placed a deck of Tarot cards on the table, “please shuffle them three times then cut them into three stacks.”

  She and Colette both sat back as they watched Lisa shuffle the cards and divide them.

  “Now is there anything specific you want to know about?”

  “Yes, my relationship!”

  As the woman turned over each card and began to speak her voice had a sing song quality to it, “you are very fortunate in love, the man you are with loves you deeply and will soon ask for your hand in marriage.”

  Lisa beamed; Colette tried unsuccessfully to keep from rolling her eyes.

  “There will come a time when you will need to choose between furthering your career and having a family. This decision will not be easy but it is a crossroads in your life that is very important.”

  Lisa nodded her head, Colette simply let out a small sigh.

  “You will have two, possibly three children.”

  At this Lisa’s smile became huge, “Thank you so much!”

  Colette rolled her eyes and shook her head. As Lisa pulled out her wallet to pay for the reading Colette put the cards back in a stack, shuffled them, separated them into three stacks and pulled a card from the middle of each placing them on top.

  The first card had the face of a crescent moon inside a sun, a dog and a wolf looking up and a crawfish coming out of the water, at the bottom in all caps it read THE MOON. The second card was an image of a skeleton dressed as a knight on a white horse holding a flag; at the bottom it read DEATH. The last was simply a man wearing a crown holding a sword; at the bottom it read KING OF SWORDS.

  Just as Colette was about to turn the cards back over the old woman placed her hand out to stop her. Colette pulled her hands away and looked up to see the woman looking down at the cards.

  “I’m sorry, I was just messing around, and I wanted to see what would come out.”

  The woman simply smiled, “Well since you were playing around why don’t you let me tell you what you have here.”

  “No that’s ok; I’m not really into this kind of thing.”

  “Hmm,” the woman said simply then smiled, “you don’t have to be into this kind of thing in order for it to work. The cards tell a story, sometimes about your future and sometimes about your past. What comes up is completely up to the energies surrounding you. People may lie to others and they may even lie to themselves but the cards do not lie. There is a reason for everything and the spirits tell me I must tell you what lies ahead.”

  “Ok,” Colette said sitting back and looking at Lisa who shrugged her shoulders in response.

  Pulling the first card towards her the woman began to speak, “Things are not as they appear, so you must open your eyes and see what is really going on around you. You need to let go of your mental blocks so your intuition can guide you.”

  Pulling the second card towards her she said, “Major changes are coming your way, don’t fight it. You may be forced to make sacrifices but you must keep in mind it will be for your own good. Death is not only about destruction, it is also about renewal, although one door may close another will open so don’t be afraid to go through it.”

  Pulling the last card to her she said, “Here is your light at the end of the tunnel, the King of Swords will help you to see things more clearly and in a different light so that you will be able to solve whatever issue that my seem unsolvable.”

  She picked up the cards and stacked them back into one deck in front of her, “Be careful young lady.”

  Colette didn’t want to be rude so she simply said, “Well… thank you.”

  The woman smiled and nodded her head, “The cards don’t lie.”

  ~*~

  Ring, ring, ring…

  “This is Lisa.”

  “Hey Lisa, this is Colette. I am so pissed with you!”

  “Huh? What? What did I do?”

  “That tarot lady of yours cursed me or something.”

  “Uh, ok. Why do you say that? What happened?”

  “Remember James?”

  “Yeah, the guy from Houston you been going out with.”

  “Yeah, well I just found out things are definitely NOT what they seemed to be.”

  Lisa laughed, “can’t say I’m surprised, I mean, honestly Colette, I don’t know how you could date a guy that lived in a whole other state.”

  “It’s not funny Lisa; everything was fine until I went with you to see that crazy lady!”

  “She is not crazy, and she warned you.”

  “She cursed me!”

  “Ok, fine, she cursed you. You still have not told me what happened.”

  “Girl, that low down, dirty, no good, prick… oh hell that is my mom, I have to take that. I will call you later ok?”

  “Okay, crazy girl!”

  ~*~

  Colette sat in the police station interrogation room looking at the two way mirror. The past few months had been trying and crazy but the past two weeks had been insane. If she had known when she met James that things would turn out like this she would have run for the hills. Since meeting him her life had become something of an emotional roller-coaster and she was ready to get the hell off.

  Not for the first time in the past couple weeks her thoughts went back to the woman who did the tarot reading, now she wished she would have paid closer attention to what she said, she was starting to become a believer. She thought about going back to her but decided against it be
cause she was afraid of finding out that something truly devastating would be coming her way.

  A few minutes later the detective walked back in the room followed by Greg and in the hallway was her father.

  “Well Ms. Dupré, it seems like you have some very important friends. You are free to go but please do not leave the state.”

  ~*~

  Lisa sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Colette shoved things into a black leather bag. Colette had not said much since she arrived and it looked to Lisa like she was on the verge of tears one minute and ready to kill someone the next.

  “So Mike is coming to get you?” Lisa asked breaking the silence.

  “Yeah, he should be here soon,” Colette said while trying to zip the overly stuffed bag closed.

  “Where is he taking you?”

  “To my studio,” she said in frustration as a shirt caught in the zipper of the bag.

  Lisa got up and placed her hands over Colette’s, “Here honey, let me do that, you go sit down.”

  Colette gave up the bag to Lisa and went to sit in a sofa chair in the corner of the room. She placed her face in her hands, then sitting up she ran her fingers through her hair before sitting back with her eyes closed.

  “Are you ok honey?” Lisa asked.

  “NO!” Colette snapped sitting up, “No, I’m not ok! I can’t believe this flippin’ day! First the thing with the police, now this, what the hell else can possibly happen to me today?”

  Lisa kneeled down in front of Colette and put a hand on her knee, “honey, everything will be ok.”

  “Lisa, how can you say that? There is someone out there trying to kill me!”

  “You never explained to me how all of this came about, what happened?”

  Before Colette could answer there was a knock on the door. “That must be Mike. I will give you a call after he drops me off and we can talk then. I need to wrap my head around all of this.”

  ~*~

  Lisa stood in the cold, sterile hospital room with one hand over her mouth to try and keep any sound from escaping. Hot tears slid down her face as she looked down at her friend. She wished she had made Colette slow down long enough to tell her what was going on, she felt that if she knew then maybe she would have been able to help her.

  She took her fingers, now wet with tears and brushed them across Colette’s forehead to push her hair out of her face. Just then Colette’s mother, father and brother walked into the room. Lisa stepped back as they came close. Colette’s mother looked like she was going to collapse.

  “My baby,” she cried clutching her husband for support, “oh my poor baby,” she said before burying her head into his chest.

  Colette’s brother walked up and placed his hand on his mother’s back, “it’s ok mom, it’s going to be ok.”

  Lisa felt like she was invading on a private moment so without a word she turned and walked out of the room. As she walked down the hallway wiping her face she couldn’t help but think back to Colette’s tarot reading. She really wished Colette would have listened now. She sadly shook her head as she recalled what the woman had said, the cards don’t lie.

  ~*~

  Johnny’s Gun

  By

  Brian Quat

  He saw her outside Smitty’s sitting on the curb crying. It was the first time he was affected by a girl crying and he was able to get out more than a stutter of, “What should I do?”

  He asked her what was wrong, and his confidence and sincerity almost got her to answer, but when she looked up at him she lied and said it was nothing. But he knew it was a deep lie, and so asked her if she wanted to get a coffee. She told him no, that it was too late for coffee, but he kept at it, asked her if she wanted to get a drink.

  He found the liquor in her place and made the drinks strong. He wasn’t trying to get her drunk for his own sake, only to numb her out.

  “Holli,” he started, “how long have you worked at Smitty’s?”

  His voice was deep and grave.

  “Since I was nineteen,” she answered.

  “And that’s how long?”

  “Two years,” she said looking down into her glass.

  He wasn’t sure what to do next; if he should say something, if he should be quiet, if he should look at her. Instead he also looked into his glass as he raised it up to his lips. But he looked at her while she was looking away. She had big blue eyes and bright blonde hair, a pointy, crooked nose that was startlingly becoming and pouting pink lips, and all this sitting on top of the body of a twenty-one-year-old stripper.

  Then she moved her eyes to him, “I’m sorry, what was your name again.”

  “John.”

  He paused, and then said, “Call me Johnny.”

  She asked how long he had lived in Jersey, what he did for a living, and when the small talk was done Johnny resolved to leave everything light and easy – as much as it could have been. He was satisfied with her number and left while the lights were still on.

  ~*~

  Johnny sat down at the tiny table with two coffees and passed one to Holli. They sat across from each other as they had before, and like before Holli avoided looking at him as much as she could. But Johnny looked at her and wouldn’t look away. She asked him how things were.

  “I want you to tell me what’s wrong,” Johnny said.

  “Nothing’s wrong anymore,” she said meekly.

  “I want you to tell me what’s wrong,” he repeated, his voice a little lower.

  “Look – it was only some friend drama. It’s not a big deal, it’s basically over now and I’m done with it.”

  He remained silent.

  “Just a fight with one of my friends.”

  “No,” he replied, “there’s something wrong with you – I mean, you got a bad, deep-seated problem that you don’t see ever getting out of.”

  She plopped her coffee cup on the table and looked stunned. Almost unable to speak she forced out, “No.”

  But his eyes penetrated her and she squeaked out, “How do you know that?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, “I can just tell.”

  She had already given up too much and went silent.

  “It has something to do with where you work,” Johnny continued, “that place is run by fucking douche bags.”

  Holli put her hand back on the coffee cup and leaned forward a bit.

  “If you only knew,” she growled. Now Johnny found himself rendered impotent by her burgeoning passion and ceased his advance, waiting for this anger in her to spill out. But she didn’t say anything further; instead she leaned back again, putting both her hands in front of her mouth as her eyes squeezed closed and tears ran out. She cried silently across the tiny table from speechless Johnny who was moved even further by this crying scene than the first. He didn’t have to say anything, didn’t have to ask why – his eyes did it for him.

  “It’s my friend Jenny,” she said when she had a little more control of herself, “She was hooking up with this guy who works for the owners at Smitty’s. They call him Lok.”

  She sniffled a little bit.

  “She never liked him; she actually thought he was gross. But he kept bothering her like relentlessly and it just made her life easier to go along with it. They were hooking up for like five months – but then Friday last week she went outside with Lok,” she sniffled again, “and never came back inside. Her roommate said she didn’t come home and she wouldn’t answer her phone and now when you call it, it says the number no longer exists.”

  Holli put her hands back in front of her mouth. Johnny was about to offer his condolences but she went on, “And now he won’t leave me alone. He finds out when my shifts are and hangs around me all night, pretending to be sweet. But one day after my shift this other girl told me that Jenny wasn’t the first girl to leave with Lok and disappear.”

  “And you can’t quit,” Johnny continued for her. “They won’t let you.”

  She nodded as she wiped another streaming
tear off her cheek.

  ~*~

  When Johnny found the doors to Smitty’s open at that time of day he was surprised. He knew they weren’t open for business and so he also expected there to be less people. There were five or six guys around the bar, some of them sitting and drinking, others standing around like they were waiting for something. Another group of men was sitting right in front of the main stage where a girl was dancing for them, already down to just her g-string. They all turned and looked at him when he came in.

  “Lok,” Johnny said flatly.

  “What’s that?” one of the men from the bar yelled over the music as he rose from his stool and moved closer to Johnny.

  “Where’s Lok?”

  “He don’t take book no more,” said the man. “I can take book for you if you want.”

  “I want to have a talk with Lok.”

  “He’s not here.”

  “Don’t speak for me, Lou,” said a tall skinny man who was sitting in front of the stage. He stood up and briskly walked next to Lou, easily watching Johnny as he did.

  “Who are you?”

  “Call me Johnny.”

  “And what do you want?”

  “Are you Lok?”

  “Yeah man, I’m Lok.”

  “Let’s talk privately,” said Johnny with the same flatness he had been speaking with the whole time.

  “About what?”

  “About Holli.”

  “Who?” Lok asked with what came across as genuine ignorance.

  “Holliday. The girl you’re gonna kill next.”

  Lok’s smirk, which had been perpetual since Johnny had walked in, shrunk away, and his eyes narrowed like he was aiming down the barrel of a gun, fixing in on his target.

  “Who are you?” Lok asked again, more quizzically, with more interest, “A boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “A hopeful boyfriend then,” Lok teased, the smirk returning.

  “She’s not coming in to work tonight,” said Johnny, “she’s not coming in here at all anymore.”

  “Because you say so?” laughed Lok in a squeak.

  “Yes.”

  Lok laughed again, a laugh of genuine giddiness.

  “If she ever sees you again I’ll hafta come back here.”

  Johnny had no interest in whatever anyone else had to say and so turned and started walking out. Lok did chime in what he considered a clever response but Johnny didn’t hear it. When the door closed behind him and stayed closed he walked back to his truck and drove away.