Eighteen
Maren
“Are you sure about this?” Emme eyeballed the sign on Madam Psuka’s door.
MADAM PSUKA: Psychic, Medium, Clairvoyant, Intuitive
Palm Readings, Dream Analysis, Spiritual Channeling, & Numerology
FIRST READING FREE*
*does not include Spiritual Channeling
It was Thursday afternoon, and we were slightly early for my three o’clock appointment. “No, I’m not sure. But I’m desperate. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in forever. I have to do something, and Allegra said this woman is really good.”
Emme shrank back a little and sniffed. “Smells weird in here. Like something’s burning.” She glanced down the stairs we’d just come up like she might make a run for it. We were standing on the second floor landing of an old Victorian building that had two storefronts on the ground level and apartments above. Madam Psuka was in 2A.
“I told you that you didn’t have to come with me,” I said irritably.
“I know, I know. But people are crazy. You shouldn’t go to a stranger’s house alone, and this place feels creepy.” She sighed. “But if you think this will help, I will fully support you.”
“Thank you.” I rapped on the door three times. After a moment, it opened and a woman I presumed was Madam Psuka appeared. She was in her fifties, I guessed, with lots of curly dyed blond hair showing a good solid inch of brown and gray roots. Her face was buried beneath layers of makeup, and her eyebrows had been almost completely plucked but penciled in thick and black. She wore jeans, a brightly colored blouse, and no shoes.
She paused dramatically, drawing herself up. “Velcome.”
“Hello,” I said. “I’m Maren Devine.”
“Yes.” She nodded like she’d known this already. “And this is your sister?”
I glanced at Emme, wondering if the resemblance was so strong it was obvious we were siblings or if this woman was actually psychic. “Uh, yeah. Is it okay if she stays with me for the reading?”
Madam Psuka didn’t answer right away. Instead she looked back and forth between the two of us, like she was trying to figure something out. “You have very different energies.”
“Yes,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I’m here because—”
“You are restless,” she finished. “You are in chaos. You seek peace and cannot find it.”
Emme and I exchanged a look.
“And you.” The madam looked Emme up and down. “You are in balance. Is unusual for you.”
“Yes,” Emme said, beaming. “I think it’s because—”
“But,” Madam Psuka interrupted, holding up a finger to silence her. “Great change is coming.”
Emme’s smiled grew even bigger. “I’m getting married.”
“No.” Madam Psuka dismissed my sister’s matrimony with a wave of her hand. “Is not that.”
Emme grabbed my arm. “You mean I’m not getting married?”
“Listen,” I said, getting a little nervous. “I’m here to—”
“Yes, you are getting married,” said the madam with a slight roll of her eyes, like it wasn’t that important. “But there is a greater change coming.”
“Greater than that?” Emme shook her head. “I can’t imagine what it could be. We already moved into a new house. I’m not looking for a new job.”
“Change is vithin,” said Madam Psuka smugly.
“It is?” Emme looked confused. “I can’t imagine what it is, unless…” She glanced down at her stomach and put a hand over it. “Oh, no.”
Great, now Emme was going to get dramatic. Did everything always have to be about her?
“It can’t be.” She continued to stare at her stomach.
“Oh, I think it can.” Madam Psuka nodded knowingly. “Vould you like to come in?”
Emme was silent and frozen.
“Yes, please,” I said, guiding my stunned sister inside the apartment. “Thank you.”
Madam Psuka shut the door behind us, and I had to squint as I looked around. Very little light filtered through the windows, which were all covered in multi-colored panels of fabric. Tapestries, paintings, and blankets covered the walls, and the floors were covered with faded rugs as well. She had no couch or chairs, but large pillows in every hue lined the walls or sat in heaps in the corners. It was sort of like being in a very colorful padded cell. She had stacks of books everywhere, beaded rope hanging from corner to corner, and several giant green plants. How they survived with so little natural light, I had no idea.
“Come. This vay.” Madam Psuka led the way over to a low round table covered with a Moroccan print cloth. She walked with an air about her, almost like royalty. Then she lowered herself grandly to the floor. “Ve sit.”
Emme followed suit, slowly and carefully like a nine-month-pregnant woman would do, still cradling her belly.
“Emme, for God’s sake,” I whispered as I dropped down next to her.
“I have to be careful,” she hissed back. “There could be a baby in there.”
“So.” Madam Psuka folded her hands on the table. “Who vants to start?”
“Oh, she’s not here for—” I started to say, but Emme broke in.
“Me,” she said. “Start with me.”
I rolled my eyes as Madam Psuka nodded. “Give me your hand.”
Emme did as requested, and Madam Psuka held it in both of hers, closed her eyes, and hummed softly. After a moment, she opened her eyes and spoke. “You are confident and outgoing. A leader. A planner. When you want something, you go for it. People are drawn to your positive energy and admire your motivation. You work hard and value beautiful things. You always turn heads in a room.”
Emme looked at me and I shrugged. It was pretty spot on.
“Now, your veaknesses.”
Emme’s smile faded. “Oh. Do you have to?”
“Yes. Is important.” She hummed again. “You can get too wrapped up in details. You can be vorkaholic. You have tendency to overreact sometimes and it can make troubles for you.”
My sister cleared her throat. “Right.”
“You must remember to take time to relax and unvind. Is important for you.”
“Is there anything about … you know.” Emme looked down at her stomach.
Madam Psuka closed her eyes for a full minute, then opened them. “No.”
“No?” Emme gaped at her.
She shrugged. “Sometimes the spirits are stingy.” Dropping Emme’s hand, she gestured to me. “Next.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, well, I’m here because of a nightmare I keep having. I’d like a dream analysis if that’s okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. Is right for you. Yes. Give me your hand and tell me the dream.”
I took a breath and described the entire thing in detail, from the crowded room to the snake and the clock and the door. While I talked, Madam Psuka kept her eyes closed, but she didn’t make the humming noise. “That’s it,” I said when I was done. “I can’t get out of the room and the snake is going to bite me.”
Madam Psuka said nothing but kept my hand in hers. The humming began. After a few minutes, I got impatient and spoke up again. “I think I know what it is. At least, I thought I knew.”
“Oh?” The madam opened one eye and looked at me. “Tell me.”
“Well, I think the snake is my ex-boyfriend from a long time ago. I never really got over him, and he hurt me really badly. Then out of the blue, he showed up on my doorstep six days ago to ask my forgiveness. Stupid me, I let him in, to my house and my heart, and he hurt me all over again. I feel like I can’t escape the cycle of heartbreak with him. Like I’m trapped in it. That’s the locked door.”
“And the clock?” Madam Psuka challenged.
“The clock is probably some kind of biological thing reminding me that I’m not getting any younger and I need to stop trusting people who hurt me.”
“Hm.” She shut her eyes and the humming began. Emme and I exchanged glances.
Maren
“Are you sure about this?” Emme eyeballed the sign on Madam Psuka’s door.
MADAM PSUKA: Psychic, Medium, Clairvoyant, Intuitive
Palm Readings, Dream Analysis, Spiritual Channeling, & Numerology
FIRST READING FREE*
*does not include Spiritual Channeling
It was Thursday afternoon, and we were slightly early for my three o’clock appointment. “No, I’m not sure. But I’m desperate. I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in forever. I have to do something, and Allegra said this woman is really good.”
Emme shrank back a little and sniffed. “Smells weird in here. Like something’s burning.” She glanced down the stairs we’d just come up like she might make a run for it. We were standing on the second floor landing of an old Victorian building that had two storefronts on the ground level and apartments above. Madam Psuka was in 2A.
“I told you that you didn’t have to come with me,” I said irritably.
“I know, I know. But people are crazy. You shouldn’t go to a stranger’s house alone, and this place feels creepy.” She sighed. “But if you think this will help, I will fully support you.”
“Thank you.” I rapped on the door three times. After a moment, it opened and a woman I presumed was Madam Psuka appeared. She was in her fifties, I guessed, with lots of curly dyed blond hair showing a good solid inch of brown and gray roots. Her face was buried beneath layers of makeup, and her eyebrows had been almost completely plucked but penciled in thick and black. She wore jeans, a brightly colored blouse, and no shoes.
She paused dramatically, drawing herself up. “Velcome.”
“Hello,” I said. “I’m Maren Devine.”
“Yes.” She nodded like she’d known this already. “And this is your sister?”
I glanced at Emme, wondering if the resemblance was so strong it was obvious we were siblings or if this woman was actually psychic. “Uh, yeah. Is it okay if she stays with me for the reading?”
Madam Psuka didn’t answer right away. Instead she looked back and forth between the two of us, like she was trying to figure something out. “You have very different energies.”
“Yes,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I’m here because—”
“You are restless,” she finished. “You are in chaos. You seek peace and cannot find it.”
Emme and I exchanged a look.
“And you.” The madam looked Emme up and down. “You are in balance. Is unusual for you.”
“Yes,” Emme said, beaming. “I think it’s because—”
“But,” Madam Psuka interrupted, holding up a finger to silence her. “Great change is coming.”
Emme’s smiled grew even bigger. “I’m getting married.”
“No.” Madam Psuka dismissed my sister’s matrimony with a wave of her hand. “Is not that.”
Emme grabbed my arm. “You mean I’m not getting married?”
“Listen,” I said, getting a little nervous. “I’m here to—”
“Yes, you are getting married,” said the madam with a slight roll of her eyes, like it wasn’t that important. “But there is a greater change coming.”
“Greater than that?” Emme shook her head. “I can’t imagine what it could be. We already moved into a new house. I’m not looking for a new job.”
“Change is vithin,” said Madam Psuka smugly.
“It is?” Emme looked confused. “I can’t imagine what it is, unless…” She glanced down at her stomach and put a hand over it. “Oh, no.”
Great, now Emme was going to get dramatic. Did everything always have to be about her?
“It can’t be.” She continued to stare at her stomach.
“Oh, I think it can.” Madam Psuka nodded knowingly. “Vould you like to come in?”
Emme was silent and frozen.
“Yes, please,” I said, guiding my stunned sister inside the apartment. “Thank you.”
Madam Psuka shut the door behind us, and I had to squint as I looked around. Very little light filtered through the windows, which were all covered in multi-colored panels of fabric. Tapestries, paintings, and blankets covered the walls, and the floors were covered with faded rugs as well. She had no couch or chairs, but large pillows in every hue lined the walls or sat in heaps in the corners. It was sort of like being in a very colorful padded cell. She had stacks of books everywhere, beaded rope hanging from corner to corner, and several giant green plants. How they survived with so little natural light, I had no idea.
“Come. This vay.” Madam Psuka led the way over to a low round table covered with a Moroccan print cloth. She walked with an air about her, almost like royalty. Then she lowered herself grandly to the floor. “Ve sit.”
Emme followed suit, slowly and carefully like a nine-month-pregnant woman would do, still cradling her belly.
“Emme, for God’s sake,” I whispered as I dropped down next to her.
“I have to be careful,” she hissed back. “There could be a baby in there.”
“So.” Madam Psuka folded her hands on the table. “Who vants to start?”
“Oh, she’s not here for—” I started to say, but Emme broke in.
“Me,” she said. “Start with me.”
I rolled my eyes as Madam Psuka nodded. “Give me your hand.”
Emme did as requested, and Madam Psuka held it in both of hers, closed her eyes, and hummed softly. After a moment, she opened her eyes and spoke. “You are confident and outgoing. A leader. A planner. When you want something, you go for it. People are drawn to your positive energy and admire your motivation. You work hard and value beautiful things. You always turn heads in a room.”
Emme looked at me and I shrugged. It was pretty spot on.
“Now, your veaknesses.”
Emme’s smile faded. “Oh. Do you have to?”
“Yes. Is important.” She hummed again. “You can get too wrapped up in details. You can be vorkaholic. You have tendency to overreact sometimes and it can make troubles for you.”
My sister cleared her throat. “Right.”
“You must remember to take time to relax and unvind. Is important for you.”
“Is there anything about … you know.” Emme looked down at her stomach.
Madam Psuka closed her eyes for a full minute, then opened them. “No.”
“No?” Emme gaped at her.
She shrugged. “Sometimes the spirits are stingy.” Dropping Emme’s hand, she gestured to me. “Next.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, well, I’m here because of a nightmare I keep having. I’d like a dream analysis if that’s okay?”
She nodded. “Yes. Is right for you. Yes. Give me your hand and tell me the dream.”
I took a breath and described the entire thing in detail, from the crowded room to the snake and the clock and the door. While I talked, Madam Psuka kept her eyes closed, but she didn’t make the humming noise. “That’s it,” I said when I was done. “I can’t get out of the room and the snake is going to bite me.”
Madam Psuka said nothing but kept my hand in hers. The humming began. After a few minutes, I got impatient and spoke up again. “I think I know what it is. At least, I thought I knew.”
“Oh?” The madam opened one eye and looked at me. “Tell me.”
“Well, I think the snake is my ex-boyfriend from a long time ago. I never really got over him, and he hurt me really badly. Then out of the blue, he showed up on my doorstep six days ago to ask my forgiveness. Stupid me, I let him in, to my house and my heart, and he hurt me all over again. I feel like I can’t escape the cycle of heartbreak with him. Like I’m trapped in it. That’s the locked door.”
“And the clock?” Madam Psuka challenged.
“The clock is probably some kind of biological thing reminding me that I’m not getting any younger and I need to stop trusting people who hurt me.”
“Hm.” She shut her eyes and the humming began. Emme and I exchanged glances.
