“Let me,
entertain you, let me make you smile…”
Rhonda sang the words under her
breath as she drove home from Barbra’s apartment. Take-out sushi and “Gypsy”. And a bizarre revelation.
The fallen autumn leaves blew in
front of her car as she turned onto her street.
Rhonda could see her breath as she walked into the light in front of her
door
Barbra had done the
impossible. She had found a way to pay
off her exorbitant college loans. And
Rhonda had to work two jobs and share rent with three roommates just to eke
by. Barbra had thought her way out of
the box, out of a shoebox Rhonda chuckled to herself. Barbra ran a website for foot fetishists. Her moniker was Pussy Foot.
At first, Rhonda thought it was the
margaritas talking. But Barbra insisted
that it was true, and showed her the website, Toe in the Water, complete with
stills and videos, all at a price. Then
Barbra showed her the ‘studio’ where she used mood lighting, music, and a room
full of foot wear to make her magic.
Boots, peep-toes, stilettos, Mary Janes, slippers, sandals, pumps. All in sought-after size seven.
Barbra tossed off her flats and
slid on a pair of black satin sling-backs.
Rhonda’s eyebrows almost gave away her surprise. She had never noticed what gorgeous feet Barbra
had. And they were taking her all the
way to the bank. Soon, she confided,
she’d be able to quit her part time job at Loehman’s and continue there as a
customer – in the shoe department.
Rhonda lay in the dark,
sleepless. She couldn’t even entertain
the thought of becoming a foot model; heredity had given her bunions. And how do you get into that business
anyhow? She tossed and turned.
That night Rhonda had her recurring
dream. It was late at night and she was
on foot in a quiet neighborhood with large trees, hurrying to get, where? She struggled on, trying to find a familiar
landmark, something, but never did. This
dream always seemed to occur right before she woke up for work, to be vivid in
her mind.
Her catering job at the Sleepy
Hollow Country Club was hosting a Halloween Ball. She was expected to work in full
costume. This after a full day at the
law office where she worked as office manager.
The rented costume she was assigned to wear was a sorceress. Her post was at a blue velvet-covered table
under a small, gauzy tent in a corner of the room. ‘Better than pushing heavy dinner carts
and serving in cramped quarters,’ she thought to herself.
Rhonda arranged her silver dress
with its long, pointy sleeves as she sat in front of a very kitschy-looking
crystal ball. It glowed, which made the
necklace of gaudy, giant stars around her neck sparkle. Her gaze was drawn to the orb. She could see…an image. ‘Wow, they’ve got this thing wired to
Youtube,’ she thought.
Just then a reveler came in, purple
drink in hand. The pirate took the seat
before her as she asked his name.
“Mike.”
Rhonda held her hands on either
side of the crystal and leaned forward.
‘OK, I’ll just tell Mike what I see,’ she decided.
“I see a man typing on a
laptop. He’s doing a search, for shoes.”
Mike began to laugh, sloshing his
drink on his striped pirate pants.
“Now tell me something I don’t
know,” he said. “Do I win the lottery or
anything?”
“No, nothing like that is showing
up,” Rhonda said quickly. “Enjoy the party.”
‘How strange was that? That little video almost looked like the guy,
but it was from the back. Could have
been him. Why did it show that scene?’
Rhonda decided that this night at
work would be more fun than usual.
Her next seeker of fortunes was a
woman dressed as a ballet dancer with a very large yellow tutu with too many
layers. Her name was Mandy.
“ A woman is climbing up stage
steps with some papers in her hand,” said Rhonda, shocked to see that the woman
seated before her had short dark hair and features like those of the singer now
on stage. “She’s having a great time
belting out some tune. There’s no audio
on this thing though.”
“What a coincidence, I sing opera,”
said the ballet dancer. I’ve been going
on auditions…”
The evening continued on in this
manner, with Rhonda reporting scenes that involved each costumed partier. The more she gazed into the crystal the more
she felt locked in a sort of dream state.
She saw someone taking a run, two lovers in a kiss, hands counting
money, a dog being walked, and several versions of a person having a meal. People washed cars, danced, applied makeup,
spoke on cell phones, and ran a load of laundry. To her relief, none of the images were
negative. Just coincidentally accurate
for each participant.
Finally, the music hushed and the
last stragglers began to leave the ballroom.
It was then that Rhonda saw herself.
There she was with Barbra holding a
pair of red platform shoes. By this time
Rhonda registered no surprise. She
rose, stiff from sitting so long, clasping the stars that dangled and swung
with her movement. She looked down. The orb had gone dark.
“Tell me something I don’t know,”
her first ‘customer’ had said. ‘Exactly,’
thought Rhonda. ‘What use could a
brief view of the recent past be to someone who could barely pay her bills?’ It wasn’t lost on her that she had accepted
this new development in her skill set so easily, but she felt the frustration
of no outlet for this talent.
The next day’s Internet research
revealed the art of crystallomancy, which involves seeing images in a
transparent object, or water, that can be interpreted meaningfully. ‘But I see more than that,’ thought
Rhonda. She was encouraged that she wouldn’t need a crystal orb.
Rhonda set out to test her ability. She found that any clear surface would
do. However, now that she was alone, she
could only see scenes from her own recent past.
She felt oddly like she was spying on her own life.
The next few days showed the
crystallomancy to have random value. She helped her mother locate keys dropped
in the garden. One of her roommates,
Eli, needed to recall if he had taken his allergy meds. One of the lawyers at the firm needed to know
when a client had called. All this was
done without giving away her secret.
Rhonda wore a ring featuring a large, clear aquamarine, left to her by
an aunt. She asked each person the
necessary questions, glanced at the stone, and found a creative way to guide
them to the needed answer.
Rhonda decided that she needed a
confidant. Who better than her
entrepreneurial friend? Maybe she could
figure out a way to make some loan payment money with it.
“Neat trick!” exclaimed
Barbra. “How do you do it?”
Rhonda had just told Barbra which
pair of shoes had starred in the latest, mini Toe in the Water video.
After Rhonda related all that had
occurred, and convinced her with several demonstrations Barbra said, “Hey, you
could give the Long Island Psychic a run for her money! Set up shop as a seer!”
“No,” sighed Rhonda, “I’m not interested
in making this public. I’m skeptical of
this whole thing myself. And besides,
who knows how long it will last? There’s
no rhyme or reason to it. I like logic.”
“OK,” said Barbra. “We’ll have to use it another way.”
“And nothing dishonest.”
“Just think of all the
opportunities you’re throwing away by being ethical,” laughed Barbra.
Rhonda went home without any new
insights. Their brainstorming had
produced a drizzle.
Several days later Rhonda bumped
into an old friend at The Coffee Hut.
She and Steve had taken several courses together in undergrad. She hadn’t seen him in at least four years.
“Still a Hamakua addict I see,” he
said taking her in his arms.
He still smelled wonderful.
“I have my standards,” she wheezed,
trying to breathe during his crushing hug.
A week later, Rhonda had lunch with
Barbra at the Crab Meadow Beach Boardwalk café.
Barbra sported high, floral canvas wedges.
“You look happy,” she said. “Whadja do, strike it rich telling someone’s
future?”
“Close,” Rhonda confided cheerily,
“only it was mine. Bumped into an old
crush last week. Steve Roth from
college.”
“Oh yeah, he must be married by now
to his high school flame, whatever her name was,” said Barbra.
“Uh, no. My ring showed me their breakup while he was
squeezing me hello. That and the hug
with no end clued me in. So I took the
reins and asked him to have coffee with me.
Think I’m in for a treat, he’s got stars in his eyes.”
(1,485 words)
