Something’s Going To Happen
Don’t ever go and see a fortune teller.
When I was 20 I was living in New Orleans, working in a radio station on a 3 month internship from university in the UK. A friend of mine from England came over to see me and wanted to partake in the black arts of voodoo (etc) so I took her down to Jackson Square where the fortune tellers worked their tables. She picked someone and said I should go and see one, too. Having nothing better to do I thought I’d sample a bit of the gumbo mumbo jumbo.
I picked this guy who read runes, because it appealed to my northern European roots. He had a beard and looked kind of Middle Earth and funky, so I pulled up a chair and the stones were cast.
One of the first things he said was: “You’re going to be fine when you get back to England.” (This guy’s good, I thought sarcastically.)
“Your exams are going to be OK, too.” So he could tell I was an English university student. That’s pretty easy.
Then he looked serious for a second, then a sympathic concern before he paused and said: “Something’s going to happen.”
“Ok,” I said.
“You’re going to be OK, but something will happen which will affect you and you will learn from it. You might not feel ok, but something will happen and I think that’s all you should know.”
He gave me a specific date and said: “It will be round about then. You’ll be OK, though. Remember this.”
I didn’t worry about it, but thought it the rest of the day. I knew fortune tellers tend not to tell you bad things will occur, so I took “all I’m saying is that something will happen” to be Bad Things. “You’ll be OK.” Bad Things will happen to a friend of mine. The runes guy seemed pretty serious.
A few days later I called a trusted friend and told them about what had happened and said a friend of mine, and most likely a mutual friend, since we were pretty cliquey, was going to die on a specific date.
“Who do you think it is?” She asked.
“I don’t know. Mark?” (not his real name) It kind of made sense; or at least he was the least unlikely. “Yeah, Mark,” I said with more conviction. Mark was one of my best friends and we practically lived in each other’s pockets since we were 14.
Six months later, on that exact day, the phone rang.
Don’t ever go and see a fortune teller.