‘Hell Bent Heaven Sent’ A Novel
By: Maria Rattray
Tags: Husband Wife Problem, Fiction, Conflict Resolution, Career Change, Fortune Telling

Chapter three: The Dream

“I had a dream last night.”

“Go on.”

“I was the protagonist. I was absolutely in my element.”

“In your element…what exactly does that mean?”

Allie struggled to explain. She knew he wouldn’t understand. Much as she loved him, she recognized that Brad just lacked the empathy, and the imagination that she sometimes craved. To him, her thinking was like a complicated algorithm that he just couldn’t crack. What was that quote about opposites attracting?

“Go on, I’m waiting.”

“I was a fortune-teller,” she blurted out, and rushed on before Brad had time to collect his thoughts. “And to be honest, I’ve never been so happy. I felt that I was truly helping people. They came to me looking for hope, and they left totally inspired. When I woke up, I realized that this was something I would be good at!”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and’?”

“I’m presuming that there’s more to this.”

“Well, I’m just telling you I’m convinced I’ve found my calling. I was happier than I’ve been in a long time. It seemed…appropriate, something I could do…something I was MEANT to do and be…something…something that aligns perfectly with my personality.”

“Fortune-telling…well, that certainly is ‘something’, as you keep saying. Now why didn’t I think of that? That’ll keep the wolves from the door.”

“No need to be sarcastic.”

“Why do I have the distinct notion that you’re trying to break some earth-shattering news to me Allie? It was no more than a dream after all.”

“It pays better than you would imagine Brad.”

“Oh come on! You’re not really SERIOUS about this! Are you?”

The ominous silence held yet another story. It was the kind of silence that he knew in time, maybe much later, that he’d learn from. The hush had a scary force to it, a strength that might be enough to split them apart, given the right setting.

In time and with reflection, he might come to realize he could have left it there, but right now, common sense eluded him.

For the first time in their marriage, Brad embraced a creative side she could never have imagined, as he strode dramatically onto his pretend stage.

“Ah I can picture the two of us now, at our annual Board of Architects’ dinner, if you’ll be able to drag yourself away to spend an evening with me, that is. Let me see. Maybe it would go something like this. ‘Dear colleagues, allow me to introduce my lovely wife Allie. These days she works as a fortune-teller. She used to be a top sales executive, but you know how it is, working seven days a week, never having any time off. It got to her, and to me, if truth be known, so eventually she gave it all up to pursue her passion. Yes, she truly is a fortune-teller now. It’s been a life-long dream of hers, a career that will most certainly help others understand and be buoyed along by the promising futures she can offer them.

‘But don’t all line up at once ladies and gentlemen. If you need her advice you will have to wait for it. She can’t possibly fit you in right now. My lovely wife is way too busy, too sought-after for that. You see she’s a specialist psychic. She’s no fly-by-night clairvoyant. No no! She can and will make ALL your dreams come true.

‘Let me assure each and every one of you that her skills take time and patience, so, if by chance any among you would like a consultation, and I’m sure there are many, any time after the next six months would be just perfect’.”

“Good one Brad! I loathe sarcasm. It’s a cheap come back.”

“Oh fair crack o’ the whip Allie. I just can’t see you're doing such a job and feeling good about it. Besides, it’s a pseudo science.”

“Says who?”

“I just know. There’s absolutely no scientific underpinning for it. And because a person often reacts to whatever they’re told, or sees a connection they can relate to, psychics use that as proof.”

“Well, you seem to know an amazing lot about this non-science. But you know what? I just realized something too. You’re a bleeding snob Brad. You’re supposed to love me for better or worse.”

“Ah yes, but I never imagined worse being this bad.”

“This bad…is that how you view it? So, let’s see. What would happen if I were to pursue another avenue for making money? What about if I became a check-out chick, a factory worker…or…or…or a domestic? Would any of those be ‘THIS BAD’?”

Brad opened his mouth to respond but she cut straight through his first effort to inhale.

“PLEASE! Don’t even answer. I already know! You’d be ashamed, wouldn’t you? And again, don’t waste your energy thinking about it. It was nothing more than a rhetorical question.”

Brad’s body language was enough to convince her that she was right. Jaw stiffly set, torso as tense as a newly-coiled spring, his eyes held tightly shut, she was suddenly aware that this was a battle that could augur badly for each of them, but she was on fire, she was more angry than she’d been in a long time, so like a locomotive gathering steam she continued her relentless attack.

“Great! Now I have just discovered that my husband of three years is little more than an elitist pig!”

“That’s unfair. I was just trying to…”

“Don’t even try to justify yourself Brad. I get your point. You know what upsets me about your attitude?”

“No! Fill me in.”

“You’re not even prepared to hear me out…to give me a chance to explain. And guess what again? I anticipated your reaction to this. I could have said nothing about my feelings and gone on being your super sales executive partner, miserable but ‘successful’. I know where that would have led each of us. Sadly, you don’t! You just don’t get it.

“But just hear me out. Whether you believe it or not, let me tell you this. LOTS of people’s lives have been turned around by the hope that fortune-tellers have given them, and all you can do, Mr. Middle-Class Know-It-All is spit on the idea.

“You know what’s really behind your reaction? It’s your mother, your snobbish middle-class mom. You always were in her shadow. I bet right now you’re wondering how you’d explain your wife’s career change. What words would ever convince her that she doesn’t really need to be affronted, that she will be able to raise her head again in society…one day…when I’m earning enough money to plaster the façade of her house in hundred dollar bills?”

She watched with satisfaction as Brad withdrew from the conversation. His face, grim and taut, told her she was on the money.

“See, I know you better than you know yourself. Am I right? Is that your biggest hurdle? She’s only managed to temper her disapproval of me over the years because I’m successful. When she first met me all she could concern herself with was that I was a little office girl working in real estate, going out with her son.

“And then, when she realized how wrong she was, that you and I could actually team up with each other in business, if we wanted to, she’s spent the last couple of years trying to sweeten the pill to her friends. She IS your biggest hurdle isn’t she?”

“No, I don’t agree. I know my mother gave you a rough trot when we first met, but she ultimately became your greatest admirer. AND I think she learned from that. It doesn’t make it right of course, but we can’t go back and replay our lives, and our reactions, however much we’d like to.

“I would NEVER allow Mom to do what she did before, no matter your choice of profession. I love you for who you are. Becoming a fortune-teller is NOT the reason I am against it. What would worry me more than anything is that you’d be giving people false hope Allie, and you know that. Worse still, you’d be charging for it! From where I’m standing that’s pure and utter deception.”

“Hey! What gives? I already do that. Every damned, bloody day I do it! What are all those magical house makeovers about? If you’re looking at deception, that’s where you will find it, pure and utter trickery at its worst. And yet, here you are, conscience-stricken about my earning money by reading people’s futures…and just maybe giving them hope and the strength to move on.

“And, even if it is chicanery in a way, it’s also true that through psychic readings, many people have been able to pick up the pieces in their lives, bind them together with some anticipation and hope that they might not otherwise have had. I’ve even read about people whose terminal cancer has been cured, purely because their belief systems were changed.”

“Oh for god’s sake! Read about them did you? In ‘Woman’s Day’ or ‘Mama Mia’, or some other reputable source? Sorry, I’m not convinced.”

“Listen to yourself! It’s not FOR you to be convinced. Fortune-telling is not for people like you. The cynics of this world tread their own lonely paths. Good luck to them and YOU! But whether you believe it or not, it DOES meet a NEED. People ELECT to have their fortunes told. Besides,” she said, looking at him challengingly, “sometimes they do it just for fun too. I sure could use a slice of that right now!”

Brad stood motionless, caught up in the dilemma of where to from here, but then quickly reasoned that the whole idea could blow over in a day or so if he could change the tone of the discussion.

“Anyway, what would YOU know about fortune-telling?” he asked in an effort to be flippant.

“More than you might imagine.”

“You realize you need a license, don’t you!”

“I have one!”

“What?”

“Well, all those afternoons when you thought I was having coffee with friends or whatever else, I was studying online. I’ve learned so much about palmistry, dabbled in astrology, and I can read faces, tarot cards, crystal balls and, my favorite, the one I love most, tasseography!”

“Tasse what?”

“Tasse — it’s French for cup. It’s to do with teacup reading.”

Brad recognized a renewed animation in her voice. He knew this wasn’t going to blow over as easily as he’d thought, but before he had time to worry about that, Allie forged on.

“Of course it doesn’t work with tea bags, so you have to make real tea for your clients. Then you read the person’s fortune through the dregs left in their cup. I found a formation of the Eiffel Tower in a woman’s tea leaves a few weeks ago. She was so excited because she was flying to Paris the next week. She’s booked me for another session when she comes home AND she’s referred a number of her friends to me. In many ways this is a word-of-mouth business.”

“Oh my God Allie…you’re serious about this aren’t you!”

“Never been more so but I’d like to think you might support me.”

“I’m just not comfortable with it on several counts. For a start, everybody would know you were doing it, I’m not convinced that you can make money, and…well it’s just downright embarrassing. Not in a million years would I have…”

“Would you have what? Married a fortune-teller? And neither would I have wed a class-conscious, pompous swine had I known. See, I haven’t changed, but you’re not the person I thought I married. The only difference between the one YOU married and the one you see NOW is that once I was a fortune CHASER. Now I just want to be a fortune TELLER. There’s only a subtle difference when you think about it.”

“Now you’re playing with words. The concepts are poles apart and you know it!”

“Bull dust! I knew I’d come up with some stiff opposition from you Brad, so that’s why I had to go this alone.”

“What do you mean, ‘go this alone’?”

“I’m not sure we should continue the conversation right now.”

“Believe me, it won’t be any easier tomorrow or the next day…might as well spit it out.”

Chapters one and two below.