A Calling Card

"Turn it over and read to me what you can see."

Her hair smelled like lavender. It masked the burnt incense smell that filled the rest of the tiny purple tent tucked away right beside the Milk Bottle Shoot.

"Eleven... nineteen... thirty-three."

The woman looked up from her cards with a frown. "The symbols, girl." 

"Oh." She rotated the card in her hand. "There's a frog, and a lantern. And a fountain."

The woman clacked her teeth. "Fire and water, is it? Two spirits, bound by fates, so close, so close," she said, sprinkling more of her purplish powder into the pit of incense to the side of the table.

The ground was littered with straw, spent matches, and peanut shells. 

"And yet, bound by the fates to remain apart." She appraised the girl who sat before her. A smile crept over her lips. "You have someone on your mind, don't you?"

The girl shifted in her chair. "Well-"

"Hush now, girl, let the spirits see into your heart." She threw another handful of powder onto the incense, which was quietly smoking away. The girl looked down at the pit. There was no open flame, calling into question the powder ritual that the woman had performed seven times now.

"Focus on the face of the one you love," the older woman monotoned, swirling her head in circles, her hooped earrings bobbing back and forth between each orbit. "Reach out, connect. Let their spirit feel your own, your passion, your desire," she ended breathily. "Now, child, let the spirits speak for you - give them a name, of the soul you wish them to seek."

The girl hesitated. "Evelyn."

The woman raised an eyebrow, briefly studied the girl, before throwing another clump of powder on the incense stick.

"Now, Evelyn - Evelyn! I sense a longing, a warmth, burning - but a shyness, something - caught in your throat - many times you've been close to this - Evelyn" the woman said, tossing more powder, missing the pit and spattering a duffel bag in the corner of the tent. "Evelyn - close, and - and unable to speak - unable to - reach out - but the flow - the flow of spirits is strong - bursting upward - upward - interweaving - into one - at night, a night very soon, you shall see - and you shall - smoulder -" 

The woman faltered. She lowered her arms and coughed, smoothed her skirts with a smooth, multi-ringed hand.

"That's all they had to say," she said, lighting a cigarette with another match. "That'll be three tickets, kid."

The girl rose from her chair, handed over three tickets and lifted the flap of the tent, the warm summer night breeze rushing to lick at her face. She mindlessly thumbed at the letter in her messenger bag marked Notice Of Summons, Evelyn Walters and sighed.

She really needed to find a better summer job.