Clairvoyance

Clairvoyance
By: Landry Minor


The bustling city street was strident with pedestrians walking in every direction and cars sitting in compressed lanes of traffic. It was deafening, loud like thunder, except there was no hiatus in between. There is no sky in New York City. It’s almost like the ground at the bottom of a rainforest, except in this city the tall office buildings resemble the trees that tower over the lush and green abundance in the humid, tropical forest. Her hair was dark and her skin was fair. Her eyes were an inviting hazel, like a mossy oak in the fall. “I’m home!” she hollered. She dumped her keys on the coffee table and hung up her coat. He was on the couch, smiling ear to ear with a twinkle in his eye. “I got promoted today,” he calmly said as he stood up and looked into her eyes, embracing her for a kiss that she interrupted. “You got promoted?! I’m so happy for you.” They were madly in love, and living the dream every young, vibrant couple desires in life.

To celebrate, they went out for Chinese. The food was prodigious, and the service was exceptional. In his pocket lay a small, black box. At the table they both sat quietly. He was calm, charming, and collected, and he looked at her like she was the only woman in the room. When they got their wine, they toasted. After eating, when she least expected it, he pulled out the little black box he had unctuously hidden from her for quite some time and expressed impassively, “Clair, I love you. Will you make me the happiest man in the world, and spend the rest of our lives together? You’ll never have to buy your Chinese food again.” She laughed to herself, and her eyes swelled. “Yes,” she said smiling. The ring was nothing to gawk at, but it was to her. Once they paid and their fortune cookies came, he opened it up and read it to himself, completely immersed in it. When he finished, he looked up at her and asked why she hadn't opened hers. She responded, “I know all I need to know,” and dropped it into her coat’s pocket. Outside, they fondled their hands in the cold, and walked in the dark, shivering evening, their icy breath exasperating into the night.

The icy night turned into dawn. She awoke from her sleep and turned to her right only to find an empty bed and a furrowed pillow. The sun prevented her from going back to sleep. She yawned as she walked to the bathroom. The apartment was cold, and when she was done she grabbed her coat and slipped it on. Suddenly, A wave of uneasiness hit her. The phone rang; it was an unknown caller. She picked it up without saying a word. A man with a very staid tone was breathing heavily in the phone. “Hello?” He said. “Hi, who’s this?” “That doesn’t matter. Clair, have you opened your fortune cookie from last night?” “Um,” she hesitated. “No, I haven’t- W-who is this? How do you know where I was last night?” It was silent for a moment. “Open it.” While holding the phone she reached into her jacket pocket and opened up the thin, plastic wrapping the cookie was in. “What is this? Why are you calling me?” “I’m here to warn you. Inside that cookie is a terrible fortune. If you do not do exactly what it says, bad things will happen.” She froze for a second, then broke the cookie and started to read, “You must leave the city. Tell no one. Take nothing but what is required. Or else, your devoted ones will suffer.” “This fortune says I need to leave,” she said unpleasantly.” “Leave now.” He hung up. Fear struck her, and she trembled.

She never believed in the supernatural. She had a feeling there was a higher power, but she did not practice religion. Desperate for an answer, she called her Fiancé. “Oliver,” she said dejectedly. “I’m sorry to bother you at work but… But I don’t know what to do.” She began to lightly sob on the phone. “What is it? What’s going on?” “I got this phone call. I think I’m being stalked. It was this man who told me to open my fortune from last night, and I opened it, and it’s so scary I can’t even describe it without sounding like I’m making this up. Oliver, please come home.” “I’ll be there. Don’t worry. I love you.” “I love you too,” she whispered into the phone, desperately awaiting his arrival. She took a deep breath and cleared her mind. She read the fortune over and over and over again hoping that it would somehow rewrite itself, but it didn’t, and so she stuffed it into her coat’s pocket and went over to the window to look at all the people walking and all the cars passing, hearing the sounds of the busy city, the cars honking and the birds chirping, and she felt safe. It wasn’t long until he arrived, and when he did she hugged him tightly and reached into her pocket to get the little slip of paper. She handed it to him, looking at his face and hoping he would give a logical and reasonable approach to what she should do. After all, it was one of his best qualities. He read it; his face remained stunned. Then he cleared his throat and began to speak. “We need to go to that Restaurant and speak to the manager about this, whoever wrote this obviously gets a high from messing with people’s minds.” She shook her head. “What good is that going to do?” He clasped her shoulders. “It’ll lead us in the right direction. And after that we can go to the police if we have to. This is crazy.” She nodded her head and he looked for her reassurance. “C’mon,” he said.

The restaurant was almost empty, except for an elderly couple and a man in a suit reading the Times and drinking his coffee. They approached the hostess, “Hi, We need to see the manager for a moment.” “Oh, the manager not here. He is on leave.” Oliver was puzzled and squeezed Naomi’s hand even harder. Then he said, “Is he coming back? It’s very important that we speak to him.” “No, no, his wife is very, very sick. Is it about the food? I can give you a coupon if that’s alright.” “Let her see the fortune, Oliver.” He handed her the fortune, awaiting an answer. Without any display of emotion she said, “This is strange. Let me give you the manager’s number.” She turned around and shuffled the papers that were on the table behind her, looking for something to write with. After some scribbling, she handed back the little slip of paper. “I hope everything works out for you.” “Thank you ma’am,” he replied. Then he took Clair’s hand and kissed it and looked into her eyes, moved closer to her ear and whispered loudly, “Everything is going to be alright. I promise.” They intended to call him as soon as they got the number, and that is what they did. They sat down away from everyone. “Hello, this is Oliver McDowell. We ate at your restaurant last night and---.” He spoke good English, and with a very stern voice he snapped, “Is this about the food? Because I don’t have time for this.” “No sir, it’s not about the food. I got this fortune, my wife got this fortune, and there’s something wrong here. Once again he snapped, “The fortune didn’t come true? It’s for fun. It may or may not come true. Now if you excuse me, I have more important things going on.” Oliver retorted, “NO, sir, this fortune is horrific. It told my wife to leave town and to not tell anybody or else her loved ones suffer.” The man grumbled under his breath on the phone. “Look, I get it from a company. I don’t make these.” “That’s alright; can you at least give me the number?” “I don’t have it, I haven’t handled the café in weeks. I’m sorry, but I have to go. The most I can do is to tell you to ask my workers for the information.” Oliver took a deep breath. “Alright, thank you for your time.”

Clair was more frustrated than ever. Tears accumulated in her eyes, and she closed them. A droplet fell from her cheek and onto the slip of paper she was holding in her hands. Oliver preceded, “Let me go ask. I’ll be right back.” She sat and shook her head, sniffled, and looked down at her hands. She heard Oliver speaking in the distance. He walked back and sat down and with a half-smile said, “I got the information. This will all work itself out.”

But it didn’t. The woman they spent hours on the phone with had no information of that fortune in her system. And so they forgot. They forgot about the fortune, the disturbing phone call, everything. Clair got a job for the Times she had been wanting for years. Weeks passed, and everything was back to normal, at least to Oliver. Clair felt a feeling, a very weird feeling one morning on her way to work. She noticed a black stream of smoke coming from one of the buildings in the distance. She figured it was a fire, and so she kept walking. Some people were screaming, and she heard police cars. A middle aged woman holding her baby was crying. She was on the phone with someone, asking them to stay on the phone. Naomi approached her. “Ma’am, do you know what’s going on?” The woman looked at her, “My husband is in the tower that just got hit.” “Hit? By What?” “An airplane, I think it was an accident, but my husband is in there.” What tower?” “One of the Twin Towers.” Clair froze, and the woman on the phone began to cry even louder. She dialed Oliver; He didn’t answer.



To be continued...