Lydia is spooked by Lavender

Lydia’s eyes widened in fear as she tried to understand what the old lady just whispered to her. She began to run far away from the lonely old stand next to the Tilt a Whirl, shrieking as loud as she can. Real tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled to find her Father through blurry vision and soggy eyelashes. She found him sipping beer and laughing with some of the weird old men that he worked with. Lydia tugged on her father’s suit jacket, still amazed that she did not have to conjure fake sobs for his attention.

“Daddy I…”                                                                                                             

Her father spun around, seeing his daughter he smiled broadly at her through his alcohol-induced haze.

            “Lydia! Sweetie! I’m having a professional chat with some important people…don’t you have enough tickets?”

            “Daddy really! You should hear what this crazy old lady said to me! She told my future and it was really scary and she said…”

            Lydia’s father bent over to meet Lydia’s eye level. She winced as she smelled the stale beer on his breath, a familiar smell to her by now.

            “Look sweetie, I’m really sorry you were scared, here’s some more tickets, ok?”

            “No! I don’t want any more tickets I already went on all of the rides…”

My story continued

A young girl around seven years old wearing a cherry red dress and blonde pigtails came skipping up to her booth, her chin barely reaching the counter.

“Hey lady!” The voice squeaked, as high pitched as the tilt a whirl’s annoying rendition of “It’s a Small World.” “Can you really tell the future?

           

 

 

            Lavender cleared her throat and in not a very convincing Russian accent drawled, “Yes my dear, I can tell you your future, or anything you want for just two tickets.” The little girl handed over two blue “admit one” tickets that were tainted with a sticky cotton candy residue.

            “Give me your hand.” The little girl placed her hand over the counter as she nervously chewed her pigtail.

            “What the hell?” Lavender thought to herself. The coolness of the child’s hand seemed to melt her own spider veined one. Her thoughts faded out one by one, as images formed in her mind. The carnival was gone, even the nicotine addiction had ceased to claw at her subconscious. The images were appearing and disappearing rapidly. A couple walking. A piano. A church. An empty liquor bottle. A wheelchair. Lavender yanked her hand away. She frowned as the blinking lights and the girl’s yellow pigtails bobbing in front of her came back into focus. She bent over the counter and whispered in her customer’s ear….