Thumbs and thoroughfares

A psychic and a secret

Hello this is my first novel and Its really good I hope you enjoy. This is the first 3 of 52 chapters and they're all about this length, if you want a copy of the whole thing please donate to my go fund me. https://www.gofundme.com/u
1

He couldn't help but stare at her teeth. They reminded him of inverted tombstones, especially the canines. She reached for the book of incantations on the shelf. The dark green cover reminded him of cold alligator skin. There was a strange geometric symbol in the center that he couldn't recognize. Opening the book, she searched for a page based on memory, rather than simply following page numbers. When she finally found it, she slammed the book onto the table, the young man across from her felt his heart momentarily racing. She smoothed the crumpled pages down as if she were decoding braille marks with her neatly-manicured claws. Through her movements and gestures alone, he knew that she'd been at this kind of thing a for a while. She rolled her eyes in the direction of the candle fire and, seemingly annoyed, flicked her tongue towards the side of her mouth. She then whispered something in an almost inaudible tone before abruptly uttering, "This won't work."
He looked at her puzzled and she returned his gaze, perplexed. "Can you feel that?" she said. Confusion overcame his expression. "Feel what?" he said.
Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "Never mind. It's just...something. Something doesn't seem right."
He began to wonder if she was the real deal. He'd never done this kind of thing before, but the fascination of it persuaded his desire to at least give it a shot. Why walk away now? he thought.
She certainly had the appearance of a gypsy – rugged, beautiful with long eyelashes, high cheekbones, voluptuous lips and a figure that couldn't be hidden underneath long dresses and costume jewelry. A hexagonal crystal lay atop the bulky purple scarf on her neck, fastened by cheap steel wire. He felt unsure of what exactly was happening, more aware of his spine and the trapped butterflies fluttering in his stomach. The hot flush of uneasiness surrounding the room only underlined his present mood and state of mind. One way or another, the young man kept his cool.
"I've felt this effect before," he said, directing a piercing gaze and devious smile right at her. "Perhaps we can do the reading first, then come back."
She laughed and closed the book, revealing the alligator skin cover once more. As the two sat there, a nervous laugh overcame her and it was at that moment he realized that the feeling was more than just attraction. He could tell that this woman was young, but she had an ageless demeanor about her. She seemed to know far more than she would let on. At the same time, she possessed a candidness that was a rare attribute among women.
After her laugh subsided, she pushed out the wooden chair she had been sitting on. "Let's go," she said. He followed her through a doorway draped by beads and into a small room with a stained red oak nightstand, a crystal ball and more candles. In seeing the lit candles, he thought, Were these lit to set a mood or merely to save on the electric bill?
"What's your name?" He asked as he planted himself in a chair.
"Sally Riddler. What's yours?" Before he could respond, she sighed in exasperation. "Shuffle these cards."
He shuffled the cards without hesitation, gripping the deck along the edges and placing random cards on the top.
"Richie Vegas," he said.
Richie accidentally dropped one of the cards and decided to place it atop the deck. He handed the cards back to Sally.
"Put both hands on top of the cards, close your eyes and make a wish," she said with a gentle smile. An uneasy feeling crept in his stomach and spine. Was she feeling the same as well? he thought.
As instructed, he put his hands on top of the cards, inhaled deeply and realized he had no idea what to wish for. As Richie exhaled, it abruptly came to him. I want to live a long happy life, he thought. After taking several deep breaths, he repeated the mantra in his head and began to feel his nerves ease. He opened his eyes to a closed, beautiful-lipped smile. Sally flipped three cards over.
"You are going to live a long, happy life," she said with the utmost assurance. Richie's entire body froze like winter. "I love your creative energy. Not just with arts and crafts, but the way you go about things. It's always unique."
She flipped another tarot card. "You have to find out the hard way and it's going to get you into a terrible mess. You are very loyal to the people you like, but you don't care to please anyone. It doesn't make you bad, it makes you real. Most of the people who don't like you are people who want to surround themselves with those who share their perspective on how the world should be." All throughout, she made no eye contact with Richie, staring intently at the cards. "You're a giver, not a taker. You have a soft heart, coupled with a stubbornness that is going to make you unstoppable, in good times and bad. You're going to live into your eighties to early nineties, and you'll always be financially independent," she added.
This all sounds wonderful, Richie thought.
Sally continued, "I see love – but there seems to be barriers or obstacles preventing you from experiencing it. But don't worry, because more things are coming your way. You have two spirits watching over you. Don't push your luck because they can leave at any time. I see much travel in your immediate future and your name is going to be well-known, revered and respected."
Without warning, she flipped another card and asked, "Who betrayed you?"
"My–"
"Ah, now this here," Sally interjected, her index finger resting on the card. "You need to be extremely careful with paperwork. Take your time signing everything and when the time comes, take the top one. The next journey you undertake will be treacherous, but it will define you. I sense a little psychic energy about you too." She shot him an amorous glance at this last one.
He heard a scurry in the main hall and failed to judge what it was before he replied, "The stronger my feelings are for someone, the stronger my connection to them becomes. It's like a feeling...no, more than a feeling, but not so much premonitions, per se. Well, maybe only through dreams."
"It's because you're untrained. And thus, there is more demand for people in my line of work. I'm sure you've come across this with other mystics before," she said.
Richie began to think about the whole encounter, from the tension in his spine, the needles piercing the surface of his skin, to the gravity of these realizations as a whole. All at once, Richie's collected appearance was weighted down. Was this her intent all along? he thought.
"You are on the verge of the most influential crossroads of your life. Be wary of the man in the top hat and don't get in the Model T. I'm seeing repetition in your love life. It must have some kind of significance, but it's not revealing itself at this time. The loudest echo I keep hearing is, 'Trust."
Suddenly, confusion dawned on her and her green eyes darted around the room. Up until this point, she seemed so sure of herself. She murmured something under her breath before whispering, "I'm blocked." There was only one card left. She flipped it and gasped before tossing it into the scattered pile of cards next to the crystal ball. The card landed face up to reveal itself: The death card. The card looked different than the rest. The background had a holographic quality to it and what appeared to be a hooded skeleton clutching a rock. The candles flared up. The hair on Richie's neck stood up like a blooming flower under the midday sun. Fire from the candlelights were reflected in the gloss of Sally's eyes.
She began to speak as if she couldn't find the words. A battle was taking place within her. "The timelines, they're all wrong. It's being distorted. We have to go."
Sally arose with purpose and grabbed Richie's arm. She led him down the hall to the dim foyer with exotic tapestries. Richie didn't fight it, despite being spooked. The paranormal was a thing he didn't often encounter but when he did, he was always skeptical. However, this time he couldn't dismiss the notion so easily. This time it felt real. He opened the front door on his own, but didn't close it. As the sunlight forced his eyes into a squint, he tried to look back at Sally only to see her slamming the door shut behind him and the unmistakable sound of a lock being hastily bolted shut.