It was the fall carnival and Adam and been put in charge of his two younger brothers. "Look Hoss," Adam said, "here's $5.00. Watch after Joe for me, would you?"
"Pa told you to keep an eye on 'im and make sure he don't get in no trouble. Don't pawn 'im off on me. 'Sides, he don't ever listen to me anyway." Hoss reached into the sack he held, the bottom dark from the grease from the fried pastries, and pulled out a warm doughnut, taking a bite. Crystals of sugar stuck to his lips.
Adam glanced to where Joe was pitching balls at rows of tin animals, trying to knock them down for a prize. "Please, Hoss. I'm supposed to meet Sandra Randall over by the entrance. Here." Adam peeled off another few bills. "Eat all you want and have a good time. Just watch over Joe."
"I told you—I ain't gonna watch 'im." Hoss ate another doughnut.
Adam sighed in frustration. "I'm too damn old to play Joe's nursemaid." Hoss shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, fine but the next time you want me to do you a favor, I won't."
Joe, grinning from ear to ear, ran over to Adam and Hoss. "Look what I won!" Joe held up a celluloid doll with feathers glued to its molded hair.
"Awww," Hoss said. "Joe done won himself a doll-baby."
"I knocked down ten ducks in a row," Joe said, "and it was either this or some cheap vase with an Indian head painted on it."
"Oh, so you took the expensive prize," Adam said. "Good choice. Look, Joe, if I gave you some money…"
"Look at that, Adam," Joe said, pointing. "A fortune teller. It says that she can tell your future. Let's go have our fortunes told."
"Why waste your money on that. I'll tell your fortune right now-I'm gonna give you two dollars and you and Hoss are going to have a good time, stay out of trouble and meet me at the gate at 9:00 sharp, okay?"
"Pa said you were supposed to watch me." Joe looked at Adam expectantly.
"You're old enough to watch yourself. You're 13, for God's sake. Besides, you have Hoss."
"I told you, I ain't watchin' him. He's your problem, not mine."
Adam sighed; he realized Sandra would have to wait until later "Fine. The fortune teller it is then. Maybe she'll tell me how to get rid of you two in the future."
Hoss and Joe looked at each other and shrugged. The three brothers walked into the dark tent. Adam curled his lip at the sharp, honeyed smell of some herbal concoction burning in a small brazier. The fire made the space overly warm and Adam began to feel a bit light-headed—the sweet scent was heavy and thick. An old woman, birdlike and thin, sat at a round table, a deck of cards in front of her. A younger woman approached him as Joe and Hoss stood behind their brother—Joe's eyes wide; he was rethinking his choice of amusements.
"You want your fortune told," the woman stated as a fact.
"Not me," Adam said, "just my little brother here. He's the only one."
"I want mine told too," Hoss said. "Here's my nickel and one for Joe."
"Sit," the woman at the table said and both Hoss and Joe sat down. Adam refused a chair and stood near the tent flap. Every so often the wind would slightly raise the canvas and a rush of chilly, fresh air would come in and clear his head.
The Fortune-teller, Madam Tomescu, dealt the cards first for Joe. "You will have many women in love with you—always-and will marry a woman whose name starts with an 'M". She will give you many children. You will also be wealthy—you will sell land and I see trains running across it."
"Is that all?" Joe asked.
"Another nickel will buy you more knowledge," the younger woman said.
Joe was torn; he hated spending more of his allotted money on a fortune-telling when there were more games of chance and skill waiting. And there was also the Egyptian Queen of the Nile-Cleopatra who danced the Dance of Love. Joe was building the courage to ask Adam to take him inside; he wanted to see what a dance of love would be like.
"Nah, that's all right."
"Me now," Hoss said. He sat still and waited, watching as the old woman held the cards and then dealt them on the table. She looked them over.
"For you, you will know a woman's love but never marry. You are a man of the land as your father is and will keep him company all his life and be a wealthy man yourself, living on the benefits of the earth"
Adam felt as if he was suffocating, as if he couldn't catch his breath—the air seemed too dense to draw in his lungs—his throat closed up. He pushed open the tent flap and a gust of icy wind filled the tent making the candle light almost gutter out. He took a deep breath and released it. "Let's go," he told his brothers.
"You—the dark one," Madame Tomescu said. "I know what lies ahead for you."
Adam felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck and despite the cold wind he broke out in a sweat. "I'm not paying a nickel to hear some ridiculous fortune. I believe we make our own fate."
"Beware of black water. You will drown in it. Dark—so dark. I can't see more."
The ground seemed to rise and fall, to undulate beneath his feet-Adam felt nausea rise. "Let's go," he managed to say and stepped outside. There with the cold air hitting him like a sledgehammer, the ground stopped seething and he felt more in touch with the world as the crisp air cleared his head. Hoss and Joe stepped out of the tent.
"Adam?" Joe asked. "You think we could go see that Egyptian dancer—that Cleo…what's her name, Hoss?"
"Cleopatra. Think we can, Adam? Them pictures of her look mighty interestin'."
"Pa'd skin me alive if I took you two in there but I tell you what- I'll go in and tell you two all about it." Adam grinned, trying to feel normal again.
"That's not fair!" Joe cried.
"That's life, junior—get used to it." Adam laughed but he couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding, the shadow that had enveloped him when in the fortuneteller's tent.
"C'mon, Adam," Hoss said. "Sneak us in!"
"Nope, but I tell you what. I bet each of you a nickel I can knock down more ducks in a row than either one of you. A nickel AND a candy apple."
"You're on," Hoss said and he and Joe took off for the booth.
Adam sighed and then followed. He told himself that there were no fortunetellers—no one could see into the future. No one. And he remembered the words from Macbeth: "And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles to betray us in deepest consequence." Adam knew about half-truths that can be seductive and although he was a rational man believing in only what could be seen or touched, something about Macbeth's witches haunted him now as they had when he first read the play in college, had planted a seed and he couldn't shake the sense of dread that filled him. "Black water—beware. You will drown in it."
"Bullshit," Adam whispered to himself. Of course, Adam thought, he hadn't ponied up a nickel and the gypsy was angry so she gave him a dark prediction as a way of revenge. Of course—that was it! Just petty revenge but Madame Tomescu had underestimated him—he wasn't a fool. Adam breathed deeply of the fresh air and looked at all the people milling about. All was the same—nothing had changed. And Adam hurried to catch up with his two brothers.