Revised 3/1/2021...

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The Customer Is (Not) Always Right

Chapter 13: Desperate Measures

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Up ahead, I can just make out the foot-worn path to the Bazaar on the darker grass. It's so early in the morning that there's not a hint of sunlight to speak of. Skyloft is completely dead. Normally, I would never in a million years head to work at such an hour, but I need time to prepare myself mentally if I'm going to go through with what I've planned for today. Quiet time. Without that insufferable Manhands jabbering at me.

I check my pocket for the third time to make sure the amber relic didn't accidentally fall out. It's still there. I can only hope she likes it. I slowly walk the rest of the way up the hill, until my feet click against the stone pavement in front of the Bazaar. I look toward the main entrance and come to a dead stop.

There by the door, a square sign stands out in the dim, like a spirit come back from the dead to haunt me. I stagger toward it in a blind haze. Before I reach the sign, I can already tell from the familiar pattern of the text that it's the exact same one, with the exact same message printed on it.

For urgent dealings, please visit the merchant with whom you have business at home.

As those words come into focus, something in my fuzzy morning mind cracks. NO. You can't be back. I...I got rid of you. I felled you and cast you into the garbage. I quickly look over each shoulder and glance all around me. It's early. No one's around. And no one will miss you once you're gone.

I grip the bottom of the sign with both hands and pull up with all my might. At first, the thing doesn't budge. But after several seconds of yanking on it, the stake gradually looses from the soil and slides out of the ground, bringing up clumps dirt with it.

I run the signpost around the Bazaar to the nearest cliff and chuck it over the edge. It spins in the open air until it's nothing but a speck against the grayish cloud barrier, and then disappears into oblivion. I smile to myself in satisfaction. No disgruntled shoppers will be bothering me at my house tonight.

I glance behind once more. Feeling a little paranoid, I flee the scene of the crime and go back to the main entrance of the Bazaar. I screech to a halt when I reach the door, almost running smack into the Village Idiot. I'm getting here at the same time as him? It really is early. I take a few steps back and wait for him to go in, maintaining a good distance from him so as to avoid inhaling his stench. He drags his feet through the doorway like a redead, pushing through the hanging carpet with his head like it's not even there. I take a tiny step forward when the space between us widens. After a few more seconds, another tiny step. Good grief. Is he that hungover? We don't have all day. Come on, pick up those feet! Move it you worthless sack of potato curds!

Finally, he gets far enough into the Bazaar for me to enter through the door and slip around him. I quicken my pace as I head down the market. The restaurant-café is slowly but surely coming to life, and the cooks are beginning to fire up the grills. But all the shopping stalls are still empty and the lights are out. Even Gondo isn't here yet, and he's usually the first to arrive.

When I get to my leg of the marketplace, the sight of the vacant Potion Shop relaxes me and puts me at ease. I begin setting up shop, enjoying the momentary solitude. I place my sacred shield at a strategic location in the front corner where I hope it might catch someone's attention. Still no sales. And I've even begun to wonder whether it really is as great as I've talked it up to be at all. But even so, I keep displaying it on the shelves relentlessly. Perhaps the price decrease will make a difference, but 450 rupees is about as low as I'm willing to go.

When I'm nearly done setting up, my ears pick up the sound of footsteps. I snap my head toward the door, my heart leaping. It's just Manhands and Bertie. Or rather, Manhands and then Bertie. I don't think I've ever seen these two arrive or leave at the same time. Come to think of it, I can't even remember the last time I saw them conversing with one another. Maybe they've got this agreement going on where they're strictly business at the Bazaar and all idle chitchat takes place in the confines of their home. But when I try to picture them talking, all I see is Manhands blabbering about nothing the whole time while Bertie sprinkles her endless sentences with little nods here and there. Yes, that seems about right.

I sigh. I guess my solitude was short-lived. I retreat further back into my shop to avoid getting sucked into an unwanted conversation with Manhands as she passes by, keeping a watchful eye on the main entrance. Strangely, I'm both irritated and relieved that it wasn't Peatrice. That troubles me. I can't let myself give in to these avoidant tendencies. I won't let this day go by without approaching her.

Not even a minute later, her white scarf appears. She strolls into the Bazaar, headed straight for the Item Check. The knot in my chest seems to twist when I realize now is my chance. The pressure is on. My higher conscience is telling me to get over there, but I find myself immobile. I haven't spoken to her at all since the night she caught me staring at her last week. It's unlikely she's forgotten about that.

"Ahem," someone coughs. I turn toward the irritating noise and see a young man standing behind the far counter, glaring at me impatiently. Oh, right. I have customers.

"Hello, Pete!" I bounce over to him. "How can I help you today?"

He squints at me, giving me a full blown stink eye. "It's 'Keet'" he corrects me in a stuffy voice. This is why I usually just call everybody 'friend' and pretend like I know who they are.

"Ah, Keet! My apologies, friend." Like I'm going to remember everyone's name.

Keet detaches a small seed satchel from his belt and pushes it across the counter at me. "I just need to stock up on deku seeds," he says. "Don't ask why."

I can probably guess why. The only thing non-knights are shooting at is the bell of Beedle's Air Shop. "Sure thing!"

I take the satchel into the storeroom and fill it to the brim. "Here you are!" I chirp upon my return, handing it back to him. "That'll be 20 rupees. Ah, but before you head out, might I kindly remind you that there are no refunds for any reason."

He nods without looking at me.

"Oh, and friend?" I wait until I have his full attention this time. "Don't feed these to your loftwing."

He looks offended. "Why would I do something like that?!"

I let out a lighthearted chuckle. "Friend, everything I say, I say for a reason. These things do happen."

He just glares at me.

"But of course you wouldn't on purpose! I just meant you should take care not to leave them somewhere where your loftwing can access and potentially ingest them."

At that moment, a screech of laughter violates my ears, causing my head to throb painfully. Gully zooms by at breakneck speed, chasing after a cockroach.

"And children," I add, turning my attention back to my customer. "Definitely keep these away from them too." We wouldn't want them climbing up to Beedle's shop and breaking their little legs on the way down.

Pete just gives me another blank stare and walks off. I feel a pinch of irritation. What a dweeb. Well for my sake, I hope the message sunk in. I don't want to have to start printing ugly disclaimers on all of my products.

Once he's gone, I set my sights on the Item Check again. I've run out of excuses to keep putting this off. I better get over there before more customers start popping in. The longer procrastinate, the more nervous I become and the less inclined I feel to go through with it. Besides, she might not bring up the incident from last week at all. And even if she does, it's been a while. Long enough for me to paint it as a misunderstanding. Yes. If I don't act like it was a big deal, she won't think it's a big deal either. My attitude can influence her just like it can influence my customers' expectations and perceptions.

I exit the Gear Shop and stride toward her. I just have to do what I do with everybody else. Smile. Be perky. Strike up a conversation and ask her about herself. Only this time, I'm not pretending to care. I take in a shallow breath, and suddenly it all seems very daunting. Why is everything so much easier when I don't care?

No. I can't over think it. I just have to go for it.

"Good morning, Peatrice!" I greet her with a bright smile, trying to hide the fact that my heart is pounding inside. She looks up from her desk.

"Hey, welcome to the—oh. It's you. I see you've returned for my sparkling personality." She scowls. Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. "Just couldn't stay away, could you?"

I don't let my smile falter, even though I kind of feel like I'm going to throw up now. "Oh, psh. You're still thinking about that?" I laugh, resting a hand on my waist. "That's funny, because I had almost completely forgotten about—"

"How you stare at me from afar every single day? Yeah, kind of noticeable. I already have Sparrot making eyes at me from across room, I don't need you doing it too."

My stomach flips. How can she just say that?! "Don't be so sure of yourself!" I blurt out. Ack. I take an unsteady breath and start again. "Look. I know you think I was doing something...unchivalrous. But that wasn't the case at all!" I declare with confidence.

"Oh really?" she stifles a yawn, as if this is all a huge bore to her. I try not to let that deter me.

"Really," I say coolly. I try to appear calm, but I'm becoming more and more flustered just from being in her presence. I remind myself to look at her eyes, not her lips. "Now I don't mean for this to sound creepy, but," I've already ruined it. "You see, back then when I, er—I mean. When you thought I was leering at you? It wasn't what you think it was. Not at all. It's just that I happened to look your way, and I was surprised because..." give her a compliment. "You're really talented at handling money!"

I grin. Nailed it! But judging from the expression on her face and the prolonged silence...she doesn't seem to think so. My remaining confidence drains.

"And that's great! Because..." I swallow. My mouth is so dry I can hardly speak. "Because you know, most women..."

"Yes?"

"They just...throw money out the window."

She couldn't look more unimpressed if she tried.

It takes me a moment to find my voice inside my parched throat again. "So anyway. Um," I reach into my pocket and take out the amber relic. Her eyes light up when she sees it.

"Oh! Is this it today?" She sits up, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Business must not be so good."

My jaw drops. She may as well have punched me in the gut. "Excuse me?!"

She just smirks at me. "You did come to deposit that in your mom's account, right?"

...

"Or, don't tell me," she leans on her hand again, tossing her hair back. "You just wanted an excuse to come over here and check me out again."

I open my mouth to shoot that down, but then I remember why I came over here in the first place. If I answer no, I lose. If I answer yes, I still lose. I'm backed into a corner.

It's then that I realize the face I'm making right now must look extremely unpleasant. I snap back to my happy smile, feigning nonchalance. "Ha...haha," I laugh, slipping the relic back into my pocket. "You know what? Forget it. Just forget it."

I turn tail and get out of there, not sticking around another second to see the snide look on her face. It's not until I reach the safety of my shop and put a wall between us that I allow the full force of my failure to crash down on me. What WAS that?! What was I thinking? 'Most women?!' As in, MY MOTHER? She's the only 'women' I have regular interactions with!

Manhands doesn't count.

I let out a despondent sigh and slump against the wall, defeated. Thanks to that, she probably thinks I hate women. And then she had to go and take a shot at my income! Oh, she'll pay for that. But each time I try to get mad at her, everything just seems to fall back on me. I replay the interaction in my head, looking for an excuse to say it wasn't that bad, but that just seems to magnify all my errors—the stupid compliments, the poorly concealed nervousness, how I lashed out at her like some petulant child. Ugh.

I squeeze my eyes shut and ball my fists, digging my fingernails into my palms. Why can't I just act normally around her? How is it that she reduces me to a stuttering, stumbling, compulsive mess?

"Erm, hey Rupin?" says a meek voice. I whip around, startled. It's Bertie. How long has he been standing there tentatively, watching my private freakout? That's awkward. It's then that I notice a certain rattle entangled in his curly hair. It's just hanging there, supported by knots upon knots. What in all the...

"Ah...may I borrow some scissors?" he continues on apologetically, like he knows he interrupted something. He doesn't have to explain anything; the sight speaks for itself.

"Of course you may, friend!" I say, cringing at his misfortune. I remove a pair of scissors from my apron and hand them to him.

"Thanks a lot, Rupin," he breathes out. He uses his free hand to adjust the malignant growth on his back he calls a baby. "I'm really sorry to bother you about these sorts of things. It's just that the missus is swarmed with customers right now and I didn't want to get in her way..."

I look across the aisle, to where Manhands is giving her standard "spiel" to a party of five. Oh, sure. She's being swarmed with customers. So now I'm the one who gets to clean Bertie hairs out of my scissors later. Splendid! "No problem! I'm always happy to help a friend in need."

Bertie parts with an appreciative nod and lumbers back to the Potion Shop. I exhale once more. That was just the distraction I needed to calm down and gather my thoughts. All right. So I take it Peatrice didn't like the amber relic. No big deal. I'll just have to impress her with something better. But I have no clue as to what she likes! In fact, I know next to nothing about her.

Just then, a strange chill passes over me, the kind that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. That can only mean one thing: Sparrot is watching me.

I peek in his direction. Yep. He's looking over here. All of the sudden, a certain realization strikes me. I may not know anything about Peatrice. But somebody here surely does.

Yes. Sparrot has the dirt on everybody. Dirt—that's practically what he deals in. And Peatrice sits right across from him, in his line of sight, for hours every day. Of all the people of Skyloft, she is the one he's observed the most. He must have some idea as to what she likes.

Wait. Am I really toying with the idea of talking to Sparrot? I must be very desperate indeed.

But he might know. He must.

A movement to my left distracts my eye. It's Peatrice getting up from her desk. She leaves the Item Check behind and heads for the door, disappearing outside. Maybe she forgot something at home? Who knows. But now, the opportunity seems to be presenting itself to me on a silver platter. She's gone. This is my chance.

I take one step, then another, and before I know it I am walking straight toward the fortunetelling tent. For a moment, the room seems to tilt and stretch before me, because this is almost unreal. I can't believe I'm so desperate I'm going to Sparrot for advice. One could easily mistake the pudgy fortuneteller for an overgrown baby, if it wasn't for that creepy little mustache of his. Between that mustache, his utter lack of eyebrows or a neck, and of course, those enormous blue saucers he has for eyes, on appearances alone Sparrot is without a doubt the most bizarre person in the Bazaar. To put things simply, he's the stuff of nightmares. It's certainly not helping that the giant yellow collar he wears reminds me of a clown.

I step right up to the tent, planting myself in front of him. When he looks up at me—a customer—the fortuneteller's eyes light up with childlike wonder. Quite a disjointed sight when paired with that 'stache and a hairstyle that looks like it belongs on a sixty-year-old nanny.

"Ahhh, you're right on time, Mr. Rupin," he says in a low, mysterious voice. "Yessss...I knew a time would come when you would hunger for these big, lovely eyes to behold your fortune."

"Um, yeah. Is this confidential?" I mumble, glancing over my shoulder. I check the door to make sure Peatrice didn't suddenly decide to come back in here. The last thing I want is her to see me associating with this nutball.

"Ohh! Uhh...yes of course!" he says, though his hesitance wasn't all that reassuring. "Anything for you, my good sir! I won't soon forget how you referred me that customer."

"Huh? What are you—" and then I recall the midget with the love letter. "Oh, right! That. Haha. It was nothing." That he even remembered that singular incident speaks volumes about how many customers he gets.

"Ohoho, do not belittle your kind deeds, Mr. Rupin!" Sparrot chuckles. "You are a very good man!"

So I take it he can't read thoughts. That's nice to know.

"So, young man, why have you come to my humble tent today, seeking my counsel? Is this an affair concerning love? Wealth? Luck?"

"I supposed it would be a little bit of each," I answer. "But this is mostly about treasure."

"So you wish to inquire about treasure?" His mouth tightens. "I must confess, I know little about treasure."

We haven't even touched upon the price yet and he's already setting me up for disappointment.

"Ah, well. I guess I can give it a shot," Sparrot says, leaning toward the crystal ball. He begins slowly waving his hands around it. A strange glint that couldn't have been caused by the light fixtures passes over it. Suddenly, I feel very ill at ease.

"Wait."

The pale blue orbs flick to me, staring straight into my soul. I shiver.

"Do you have anything else?" I gulp. "Besides the crystal ball, I mean."

"Hmmm," he muses, frowning to himself. "Well, for only 5 rupees, I could give you a Sparrot card reading!"

"Sparrot cards?" I look at him skeptically. "You mean tarot cards?"

His eyes grow a little wider than I thought was possible. "Sparrot cards."

Well there's an ego trip if I ever saw one.

He blinks, resembling an owl. "So you would like to ask the Sparrot cards?" he asks hopefully.

A derisive snort escapes me. I smash my teeth together, covering it up with a gleeful smile. "Sure. Let's ask the Sparrot cards."

"Very good!" Sparrot pipes up, with a bounce of excitement. Reluctantly, I hand him one blue rupee, which disappears into the dangling sleeves of his bright yellow robe. The fortuneteller gingerly slides the crystal ball off to the side and brings out a small wooden box. He opens it and removes a thick deck of purple and gold cards, placing the entire stack face down in the center of the table. On the back of each card is his fat face, framed by moons and stars and a bunch of other astrological mumbo jumbo. I look over my shoulder, feeling a bit self-conscious. Hopefully this won't take very long.

Sparrot's eyelids flutter shut. He breathes in and out through his nose, sitting perfectly still.

"Yessss...your aura is clouded with the smog of uncertainty. It is good you came," he says. He slowly opens his eyes again and gazes into mine. Eesh. "Before we begin, tell me...what is burdening your soul? For what reason do you seek the treasure?"

After glancing around again, I lean toward him and shield my mouth with one hand, lowering my voice to a cautious whisper. "Okay. You know Peatrice? The Item Check girl?"

He nods.

"I need to know what type of treasure she likes."

"Hrm. That is an oddly specific request..."

"Is it?" I tilt my head innocently. "But I thought surely the Great Sparrot could handle any request!"

"Ohoho, The Great Sparrot! I rather like that title," he giggles, twiddling his mustache. "You are too much, Mr. Rupin!"

A little sunshine never hurt anybody.

"Okay. Here is what I need you to do," he says. "First, close your eyes."

I oblige, feeling slightly stupid. Oh, who am I kidding. Really stupid.

"Yessss...now, imagine that your eyelids are a veil between you and the world. Shut out the background noise and focus on what I am saying to you. Listen to the gentle rise and fall of my voice...clear your mind, and chase away all distracting thoughts..." A long pause. "Good. Now, I need you to concentrate very hard on your question."

After another moment of silence, I hear him begin to shuffle the cards. I open up my eyes, because for some reason that makes me feel a little less like an idiot.

"Are you concentrating?!" Sparrots snaps.

I hold back a groan. "Yes, yes. I'm concentrating," I say with a phony smile, scrunching my eyes shut again.

"Good! You have to concentrate very hard or it might not work."

A sneering retort comes to mind, but I instead opt for a small sound of acknowledgement. My gosh this is ludicrous. But I'll sit through these absurd rituals for the sake of getting a piece of information. Growing impatient, I open one eye a crack and watch as Sparrot finishes shuffling and cuts the deck in half, placing the bottom pile on top of the other.

"All right, you may open your eyes now," Sparrot says finally. I've already opened them. "Since this is your first Sparrot reading, I shall guide you through the process with the utmost amount of care and sensitivity. Oh Yesss, we shall take a peek at your cosmic compass!""

I wince. Is anyone listening to this? I really hope no one's listening to this. They'll all assume I've gone loony.

"Keep in mind that this is not a premonition of what will happen, but of what could happen," he adds. "The future is not always written in stone, but is fluid and changeable...for it is subject to our choices."

I nod. Yes, I know. I shouldn't be surprised when this hogwash doesn't come true. Sparrot removes the card sitting at the top of the deck and lays it out on the table, flipping it right side up to reveal a picture of a chunky, half-naked woman with bat wings. She looks like some kind of harpy.

"The first card represents your past, and everything that has influenced you up until now," he begins in a whimsical fashion. "Oh, I do believe I detect a dominant maternal figure in your life."

"Okay." Tell me something I and everyone else on this Goddessforsaken island doesn't already know.

"This second card represents your present energies. Your emotions, your short term goals, your hopes and your fears..." he picks another card off the top of the deck and lays it beside the first. "It also indicates opportunities being presented to you in the now."

I look down at the card. A shield. Oh, how telling.

"And last but not least, the third and final card represents...a possible future," Sparrot says ominously. "The future card reveals your desires, and the general direction you are moving in. I will use the combined interpretation of these three cards to determine an outcome, should you choose to stay on your current path..." He removes one last card and turns it around to look at it. He gasps sharply.

"What?!" I jump. Sheesh. Gasping like that should be outlawed. "What is it?"

Sparrot's mouth forms a silent "uh oh." He lifts up the card until it's level with my eyes and whispers very seriously,

"This is the first cousin card."

I balk. "W-what?! Give me that." I snatch the card away from him and hold it up to my face. "How is this the first cousin card? It's just a picture of...a flower with a smiley face," I scoff, handing it back to him. "I think I would know if she was my first cousin."

"Tut, tut. Well, the Sparrot cards aren't always the most reliable method of divination..." he murmurs, examining the card closely. He furrows his naked brow, staring at it in deep concentration. "Could be a second cousin."

I groan out loud. "Well, what about the question I asked? What kind of treasure does she like?"

"Ah! Yes. Treasure!" he exclaims, like he had totally forgotten. "I sense the treasure that will bring you luck along your path is...hmm." A deep crease appears on his forehead, his bulging eyes roving between the three cards on the table. "That's odd. I don't appear to be getting a clear answer from this combination. I fear my intuition is rather clouded today."

I clench my teeth, resisting the urge to grab the fat little man by the shoulders and start shaking him. "Look. Just….forget the Sparrot cards," I exhale, nearing exasperation. It's then that my eyes find the crystal ball again, shimmering on its pedestal like a giant pearl. Pale colors flicker across its luminous surface, and I think I can almost see a ghostly mist swirling inside it. It's mesmerizing. I draw a long breath, nerves bubbling in my chest as I struggle with a snap decision.

"The crystal ball," I say hesitantly. "Let's do it."

"Yahoo! Oh, I mean—as you wish, young man!" Sparrot cheers, practically glowing. "That will be 10 rupees."

"Fair enough," I grunt, handing over two more blue rupees. I try to justify this to myself. Look at it this way. Now Sparrot can buy food. This is like making up for all those charities I never donate to.

Sparrot clears away the cards and puts them away in their case. I'm such a fool. I can't believe I played right into his little scam. I of all people should have known Sparrot would try to pull this crap and weasel as much money out of me as he could. I should have gone straight to the crystal ball to begin with.

Sparrot takes hold of the crystal ball with both hands and carefully moves it back in front of him. Goosebumps rise up on my arms. I realize it scares me, for some reason. But I can't articulate why that is. It doesn't make any sense to be nervous about something that's not real. Of course magic exists and is at work in our lives everyday; it's what's keeping the ground beneath us afloat. But seeing the future? That's a power that is too good to be true. I have reason to be skeptical.

"All right. All preparations are in order." Sparrot places his hands on the crystal ball. "With these round, stupendous eyes, I shall peer into your future. Oh yessss, we shall see what's in store for you!"

He closes his eyes and begins muttering incoherently, moving his hands faster and faster over the crystal ball. My vision darkens, and the lights seem to flicker on and off, but it could be my imagination. Suddenly, Sparrot gives a dramatic shout and throws out his arms, his eyes flying open.

"Ahaaaaaaaaaa. I see many things...all is revealed," he says in a hushed tone, gazing into the crystal ball. "It would appear your future with this girl is...unclear. Fogged."

I let my expression fall. Isn't it always?

"But I can tell you exactly what this means," Sparrot continues on. "It means your future with her is a bleak one, and there is only a 5-8% probability this pursuit will bring you happiness."

I just stare at him blankly. I can't even summon a fake smile anymore. "That's...not what I paid for," I mumble.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, that's not what I paid for," I repeat in a clear voice, gritting my teeth. I am finding it more and more difficult to be cordial. "I asked you about what type of treasure she likes. Nothing more. Nothing less. This is the second time you've dodged my question."

"Er, well, I can't exactly control what these lovely eyes of mine behold inside the crystal ball. Sometimes it doesn't always give me a clear answer." He looks down and studies the ball without blinking, until his eyes start watering. He emits an exhausted sigh, eyelids drooping. "It's no use. I'm afraid that's all I can see at the moment. My eyes...they grow weary. But if you want, I can try again for another 10 rupees!"

My jaw tightens. I am so finished with this. He may have fooled me once. But I can't be fooled twice. I glower down at him, narrowing my eyes. I could spout off a million angry things at him right now, but truthfully, I don't much like confrontation. It's time I walked out on this little scam of his.

"No. I'm not going to pay you 10 more rupees just so you can tell me my future is fogged again," I say simply. I leave it at that and start to go back to my shop.

"But—wait! Mr. Rupin! Why...?"

Oh. Now he's pushing it.

"Why?" I echo, turning back around. I step toward him. "You're asking me why? You really don't know?"

Sparrot just goggles at me and moves his mouth silently, looking like a big-eyed fish out of water. Is he playing dumb or is he just a compete and utter moron?

"Hmph. Well, you asked. So I'll tell you why. Because now I'm short 15 rupees and I got absolutely nothing for it!"

He gives a small gasp. "N-nothing? Oh, no no no, good sir! I assure you your rupees were not spent in vain!"

"Oh really? Well, what did I just pay you for then?!" I demand, throwing my arms up.

In that instant, one of my hands accidentally bumps the crystal ball. It flies off its pedestal and plummets toward the floor. It seems to fall in slow motion, but neither of us is quick enough to catch it.

With a resounding crack, the crystal ball hits the ground. It rolls across the Bazaar for what feels like an hour, until it smacks into the front of the Scrap Shop. Gondo stands up and peers over his counter, looking confused. From all the way across room, I can see a huge crack in the ball, splitting it straight down the middle. A few jagged, glass-like shards litter the floor between here and there.

For a long time, Sparrot and I just stare at the broken crystal ball, speechless. Sparrot looks like he's had his soul sucked out of him. He blinks once. Twice. His blue eyes are wide and uncomprehending.

I chew my lip, unsure of what to say. "Sparrot...I..."

Sparrot's jaw quivers. Hidden muscles in his face spasm beneath his flabby skin. He clutches his temples, his eyes bugging out of his head, his mouth opening wide into an unearthly scream.

"I did not forsee THIS!"