Fate of the Fateless

Not a whisper on the boots, thought Erica as her husband waved to her from the front door. Despite the blazing hot day, a scorcher even by South Carolina standards, his shirt was clean and his face just covered in a thin layer of sweat, almost like dew. Even when she kissed his slightly puffy, unshaven cheek and smiled, she saw the flicker of doubt in his blinding blue eyes - the doubt which originated from those boots. 

“Hi, honey,” he said softly, grabbing both her arms and returning her smile. 

“How was your day?” 

“Oh, y’know… hard, hard work out there. Monster sorta day, y’know?” 

She shook her head. “You poor thing. Why don’t you tell me about it?” 

“Wish I could,” he said, “but I gotta change and head to the bar; I’m meeting some of the guys there.” 

“Oh.” A shard of anger pierced her heart. She grimaced, which made her husband frown. 

“Erica? You okay?” His gaze attempted a caring posture, but it was far too cold to maintain the charade. 

For a moment, she thought about feigning some great discomfort; maybe that’d get him to stay with her. No… better to let him go… let him go to that stinky, humid bar and swill beer with all of his cronies. Nodding, Erica replied, “I’m fine. You go on ahead.” Like he would’ve stayed if I said no, she thought. 

He planted a distant kiss on her forehead, but rushed off before there could be a moment of shared affection. She went back to the fridge and pulled out a beer, draining it before her husband could stumble out of the door with his belt still unbuckled and that stupid cowboy hat on askew. In a different lifetime, he’d come home from work worn so thin he could do little but collapse in his wife’s arms, his boots all scuffed up from a day on the sight. She’d have drawn him a bath, simple, cool, and with some eucalyptus epsom salts to help his soreness. After that, he’d throw on a pair of comfy pajamas and join her on the couch, where they’d watch Jeopardy! until dinner. 

Erica went to the bathroom and pulled the plug on the water she’d put in the bath for tonight. These days, she left out the epsom salts, because there wasn’t much sore on her husband. At least, nothing she cared to alleviate. Another beer might be in the works; she could already see the effects of those little brown bottles on her body, and she could certainly feel the effect of the one she’d had tonight on her mind. Despite gaining fifteen pounds… still a lightweight. 

There was nothing left to do but sigh and crack open another one. She wouldwatch Jeopardy! alone, as per the norm these days, her mouth just opened slightly to shout out an answer she knew, but the noise stifled after the first second because what fun was shouting out trivia answers in an empty living room. 

And indeed she did go to the fridge after watching the last of the pathetic bathwater swirl down the drain, planning on busting into quite a few beers tonight. Most often, she fell asleep on the couch, dinner uneaten, and her husband would come home at some ungodly hour, if he came home at all. Sometimes, Erica liked to speed up the process by pouring her beer into a tall glass and adding a few shots of gin to the top. It did nothing to the taste except make it a hair more potent, and added some nice botanicals to the nose… but man, did it hit hard.

Tonight’s not a gin night, she concluded as she popped the top of her second beer. She took one long sip and then went to the window at the front of their house, which overlooked Winsler Street, which turned into main street just a few houses down. In a small town like there’s, the need for a Main Street had been a sleepy afterthought as the residents slowly huddled around a vaguely central area. Whatever had the most shops was called Main Street. Erica’s eyes narrowed. 

Where her husband went to get drunk with his goonish buddies, she didn’t know; he’d never tell her. When she had asked, what seems like a million years ago, his reply was, “Oh, somewhere near Charlotte.” 

“I’m not doing this again tonight,” whispered Erica. True, her “beloved” (that was what she called him during her vows), had taken the only vehicle they had, but that didn’t stop her from going to Main Street, where there happened to be a restaurant and a general store. Maybe she could get a bite to eat and then check if there was a deal on tin foil. Before she left, she put her forehead on the hallway wall, the only sound escaping her a dull sob which quickly turned into a cough. 

She brought the beer with her, as the walk to Main Street was only two minutes, and by then the little thing would be long gone. Indeed, as she came to the first shop, Ed and Lorein’s Convenience Store, she was able to throw an empty can into the recycling. The restaurant, The Hope Diner, had its neon sign turned on, but before she got to the door, something caught her eye across the street. 

It was a little shop, tucked between the general store and the post office. Must be new… The sign said, “Miss Maisy’s Oracle.” Without thinking, she crossed over, noticing the worn old brick front and the purple backdrop of the gold writing on the sign. Next to the door, there were two thin windows which had black curtains drawn. While the town had little new construction after the general store, this stalwart creature looked as though it hadn’t been updated in centuries. Of course, that didn’t make sense; she would surely have noticed the shop before now if it had been there… 

The faint smell of incense wafted out of the slightly open window on her left. Normally, she hated incense… but this one was so alluring. The door said, “Open,” and she took a look over her shoulder before ducking in, immediately passing in between a large sheet, and then through some stringed beads. The incense was stronger in here, making her even more light headed than the two beers. For a startling instant, she thought she’d fall over, but then a cold hand gripped her shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” asked the woman, whose hazelnut skin was perfectly clear despite the sweltering heat within the shop. Her voice was deep, soothing, and luxurious. 

“Fine.” The woman put her thumb on Erica’s forehead, and suddenly the heat, the light-headedness, and even the buzz faded away. She stood up straight, her mouth agape. 

The woman smiled. “You don’t do this for as long as I have without learning a thing or two about heat stroke. I’m Maisey, by the way.” 

“Erica,” she said. The shop was as small as it looked from the outside. Behind her were the curtains and the beads. The walls were packed with odd little trinkets which looked like a mixture of old Greek memorabilia and things picked up from the Bayou state. The room was lit by a candle chandelier in the center. Before her there was a little round wooden table, topped with an incense stick slowly burning away. She figured that if the two lady’s stood with their arms stretched out at their sides, they’d easily touch both walls. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Erica,” said Maisey. “Would you care for a seat?” 

She just noticed her host’s large turban and Indian-inspired dress, with a plethora of necklaces, bangles, and rings. “Oh…” she pursed her lips. “No, thanks, I was just-” 

“People don’t normally stop by without having something to talk about.” 

Erica noticed her frightened green eyes in a mirror on the wall, just below a green mark on her forehead, and she knew she should leave, but when she looked into Maisey’s deep brown irises, she felt utterly relaxed. There is something I need to talk about, she thought. 

Before she could open her mouth, Maisey smiled widely, showing off bright white teeth. “Excellent. Please, have a seat.” 

She was confused as she sat, but once she looked at her counterpart through the steadily trickling lines of smoke from the incense, she forgot she had any misgivings. “How long has this shop been here?”

“Oh, a while,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Now, what’s bothering you, Erica?” 

“I… I guess I need to know if my marriage is doomed.” The words came out so easily she surprised herself. 

“Why do you think it is?” 

“My husband’s a liar.” Erica took a deep breath. “He works in construction, and it used to be that he’d come home every day with his boots looking like hell - all dusty, worn, with a bunch of new scuffs… Especially in the summer, he’d come home from work drenched in sweat. He used to fall into my arms… Now, his boots are clean, his face sweaty like… like the only time he spent outside is from the truck to the front door, and… he never stays home. I only see him for that little bit of time every day. He goes out drinking and doesn’t come back till after I’m asleep… and he leaves before I wake up. He’s even been working weekends.”

“Did he get promoted to an office-” 

“No, no he didn’t. I know he still works with ground construction crews because I asked Joey Alston - he’s my husband’s friend who works in the office, and he says there haven’t been promotions for a while.” 

“Hmm.” 

“What’s up?” 

“Is there anything else?” 

Suddenly, Erica laughed. “Honestly, it sounds so silly to me now. Isn’t it possible that his boots are clean because his crew hasn’t had much work? Maybe that’s why he goes out so much; he’s stressed. Isn’t it possible that I’m wrong?” 

“It’s also possible that you’re right,” said Maisey quietly. 

“What?” 

“Have you talked about this with him?” 

Erica frowned. “No… we - like I said, we don’t have much time together. Just a few minutes in the evenings when he comes back, and then he’s gone again.” How pitiful… a couple who see each other for two minutes a day. 

“Hmm…” 

“Well?” said Erica sharply. “What do you think? You’re the ‘oracle’, right? Don’t you have a crystal ball, or something?” 

Maisey chuckled, an earthy, throaty sound which seemed to quell the light in the room for a moment. “No… no crystal ball. I’m too old for that kind of stuff.” 

“What’s that mean? Are you an oracle or not?” 

Within Maisey’s comfortable eyes, something stirred. A sense of pride and deep history conveyed through confidence. “I am.” 

“So… what should I do? What’s my fate?” 

“Fate,” it was the first harsh word out of Maisey’s mouth. “What a stupid concept.” 

“Is there something I have to do? I never finished college, maybe if I went back, or if I got a job… maybe I should-” 

“Why are you so concerned with what you should do? You don’t even know what your husband’s doing.” Maisey put her elbows on the table with her fingers interlaced in a pyramid before her face. “Have you ever tried stopping him from going to the bar?” 

“I… Once, I actually succeeded.” Erica shivered. “This was two months ago. He came home from work, got ready for the bar, and I said, ‘I don’t want you to go,’ just like that.” 

“What happened?” asked Maisey.

“His face turned to stone… like, I could’ve sworn Medusa or something got a good look at him. He asked why. I said, ‘I thought we’d spend the night in… just like old times,’ and I’ll never forget the look he gave me. So much… I don’t know, disgust? Like I’d just suggested he spend the night with a piece of moldy cheese.” 

“Did you two end up spending the night together?” 

“We did. I hadn’t prepared any dinner, so we just ordered some takeout, and we watched Jeopardy! - that was our tradition… but after that we… I don’t know, just looked at each other? We didn’t know what else to do. It was the first time I saw… hate in his eyes. Not anger - we’ve been angry at each other before, but hate.” 

Maisey grimaced. “How long have you been putting up with this?” 

“Oh, about three months,” said Erica bitterly. 

“That’s a long time. In the modern world, they have something called ‘couples counselling.’ Have you tried that?” Maisey’s gaze was shrewd. 

“Why’d you say, ‘the modern world,’ like that?” she asked. When Maisey didn’t respond, she answered, “No, we haven’t gone to counselling.” 

“Erica, do you want this marriage to continue? Seems like you have plenty of reasons to leave.” 

“I know,” said Erica quickly. “I-I guess I don’t know what I want. Part of me so desperately wants to go back to the way things were… another part of me’s scared to move on. I mean, my husband’s in his forties, but a man in his forties who’s doing alright can always find some young lady to catch his fancy, but a woman in her forties who hasn’t worked in a decade and who… isn’t in the best shape of her life… I’d be lucky to get a job, let alone another person to… come home to.” 

Maisey was silent for some time, but eventually she said, “Listen, Erica, I… can’t tell you what to do-” 

“Oh, don’t give me that crap about, ‘I already know in my heart,’ because I don’t.” 

Smirking, Maisey said, “I was going to say, I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you what not to do.” 

“Interesting spin,” said Erica, and though she tried to remain nonchalant, her eagerness betrayed her as she leaned forward, green eyes wide. 

“Do not give up on your marriage,” stated Maisey, the light shifting slightly to accentuate the shadows on her face, and bring out some of the impassable ice beneath the warm exterior. “I know what you fear in your heart - that your husband is having an affair. However, this is unfounded. He is a loyal man.” 

“Then why isn’t he talking to me?” asked Erica, her heart already rejoicing at Maisey’s words. She took them as fact, though she didn’t know why. “Was I right, earlier?” 

“No, you were wrong. The truth you will have to find out for yourself. I haven’t given any sort of prophecy in… many years,” she took a deep breath, “but I know this: Stay with the strength you’ve found in your heart here. Hold onto that and know that your husband is still yours. He is the man you married, and his heart hasn’t strayed. I think you’ll find out quite soon that he’s ready to talk to you, if you are ready to listen.” 

“It’s time to go, isn’t it?” Erica felt a flutter in her heart, and got to her feet. 

Maisey beamed. “Yes, it is. Erica Wright… It was a pleasure meeting you.” 

“Likewise,” she said. “Thank you for listening and for… being an oracle, I guess.” 

“Fate for you may not be real, but it is for me, and this is mine.” 

“Oh… okay,” said Erica, feeling the effect of the incense once more. “I’ll see you around town, hopefully soon.” 

“No, you won’t,” said Maisey bluntly, though her smile remained broad. “Goodbye!” 

Almost of their own accord, Erica’s feet brought her to the door of the oracle’s shop. Before she knew it, she fell onto the street, and a heavy arm caught her. “Erica?” asked a familiar voice. 

She looked up and saw her husband, his eyes clear and honest, worry shown by his furrowed brow. “Oh my God,” cried Erica, hugging him tight. 

He returned it gratefully, and unless she was mistaken, a few tears fell onto the back of her shirt from his face. “I’m so glad to see you,” he said, “I was worried sick. I went to the sheriff’s office-” 

“Listen, we need to talk,” said Erica, her countenance suddenly grave. 

He matched it and said, “Yes, we do. But before we get to that, I just want you to know that I love you, and I’ve never been disloyal to you.” 

“I know,” said Erica, yet again her heart was lifted to the moon, especially since now it was her own husband saying the words. 

“Let’s go home. I’ll call the sheriff when we get there,” he said.

She put her hand in his and he gripped it tightly. “Okay, let me just-” 

Erica turned around, ready to pop back in the oracle’s shop to thank Maisey, but she was greeted not by an old brick storefront and dark windows, but by an empty alley with some dumpsters distantly visible. She put her hand out tentatively, her jaw wide and her mind working furiously to connect the dots, but already the memories were fading. After a few seconds, all she was left with was a warm feeling and the faint recollection of a face with comforting brown eyes. 

“Hey, what’s this stuff on your forehead?” asked her husband, wiping away some green substance and flicking it on the ground. 

“I don’t know,” said Erica with a frown, touching the spot gingerly. She shrugged.

As they started walking, her husband said, “It’s so stupid, really… I should’ve told you ages ago… You know how you can blow up small stuff in your mind until they’re huge-”

Everything’s going to be alright, thought Erica as she listened to her husband’s explanation. She wasn’t sure how she knew this, but she knew, and the faint smell of incense on her clothes kept the thought strong.