The Travel Companion

Theres a peculiar sort of person you sometimes meet on a train journey I still cant work out how that welldressed young woman managed to persuade me to let her read my palm. Wed been sharing a carriage for over two hours, and shed left a rather favourable impression: a thirtysomething brunette with a stylish bob and a figure that would make the chubbier folk like me feel jealous. She was chatty and smiled often, but there was something odd about her eyes.

There was nothing remarkable in the eyes themselves I couldnt tell because she was wearing dark sunglasses. Whats the fuss? you might think. It was a grey, drizzly day, the autumn clouds had swallowed the sky, and shed clamped on almost black lenses. Perhaps she was trying to hide bags under her eyes or a bruise. Happens, right?

I started looking for any excuse to justify her strange request and found plenty. Curiosity gnawed at me, but we barely knew each other. All I knew was that her name was Poppy and she worked somewhere in the service industry. It felt awkward to ask a nearstranger, Why are you wearing shades on a gloomy day? perhaps she had an eye ailment?

So I kept quiet and went along with the idle smalltalk that strangers usually exchange on a train. Then, after a moment, her expression changed and she said:

Natalie, shall I have a go at reading your future? Im quite good at it. My greatgrandmother was a professional fortuneteller, the genuine article, not one of the pretenders you see everywhere. Dont you want to know what lies ahead? Itll be fun!

I shrugged, a little terrified. No, I really didnt want to hear what the road held for me. What if?

Thanks, Poppy, but I dont put stock in cards or any of that other mumbojumbo.

Then youve got nothing to fear.

Why would you think Im scared? I simply dont want to, I tried to sound confident, though it annoyed me that her lips twitched into a faint smile.

Your call. No one can force you, right?

She nodded, and a strange itch rose in my head, as if I could scratch it from the inside. If only I could. Then, unexpectedly, she said:

Actually, why not? Lets give it a try.

I opened my mouth to protest, but instead I gave her a polite smile. She gave a small nod, reached into her handbag and produced a velvet pouch. A deck of cards slipped onto the small table between us.

She took off her sunglasses, and the lenses two huge dark shields covered her eyes completely. My heart gave a little lurch.

How will you read me? You cant see, I whispered, startled.

Dont worry, Natalie. I feel the cards, I know each one by heart. I dont have many pastimes, so shall we begin? she replied, slipping the glasses back on, hiding those frightful eyes that made me uneasy.

I shrugged helplessly, forgetting that she couldnt see my movements.

Poppy spread the cards in a circle, following the usual rituals, and said:

Turn over the one nearest to you; it will show the past.

My hands trembled as I reached for a card. It was completely blank, no picture at all. She frowned.

Strange. A white sheet means you werent there in the past. How can that be?

What kind of deck is that? Normal cards never look like that, I tried to say confidently, though a chill ran down my spine. Had I stumbled into something mad?

All right, lets try again. Pick any card you like.

All I wanted was to pack my bag and get out of the carriage at the next stop, just to escape that voice and the invisible prickles in my head. Yet, obeying her will, I drew another card and turned it over. Same result. My suspicion of her being a fraud grew, and I finally found the nerve to ask:

Shall we stop here? Im guessing all your cards are the same. Thats a cheap trick, and I dont like it!

She grew uneasy.

I assure you, Natalie, the cards are ordinary. The designs are etched with a fine needle; I can feel them, but right now the sheets are perfectly smooth. Believe me, Im shocked too. Try again, lets aim for the present, be bold!

I snorted, took a deep breath, and grabbed two cards at once, feeling them with my fingers. As expected, there were no dots or punctures just pristine, glossy paper. I tossed them back at her.

Enough of this charade, tell me straight why did you start this?

She seemed bewildered, her complexion paler than before.

Honestly, I had no grand plan. I just wanted to pass the time, give you a bit of entertainment on the journey. Lets have one last go, for the future

Fine, lets go, I sneered, angry, and drew the next card. When I flipped it, I wanted to show her, but remembered she couldnt see it, and I almost shouted:

My future is as white as a sheet. What am I supposed to do with that?

The woman opposite me turned an even paler shade, her skin breaking into nervous spots.

Does that mean Ill die soon?

I widened my eyes but said nothing, simply lifted my coat and bag, glanced out the window, and exhaled irritably:

How should I know? Everyone meets their end someday Farewell, Im getting off at the next station; I have an urgent errand.

I bolted from the carriage without looking back, muttering under my breath, Bloody nuisance, ruined my mood! Trying to run her own little experiments on me!

Furious as a storm, I stepped into the vestibule and fished a cigarette from a pack. This blind this nonsense had given me a proper fit of nerves. I turned to a pensive man smoking nearby:

Got a light?

He nodded, Sure thing, and handed me a lighter. As he looked at me, his face fell, and he slumped down the grimy aisle. I had to bend down and take the lighter myself. I inhaled deeply, let a ring of smoke drift away, and felt a little lighter.

The doors opened, and before I stepped onto the platform I straightened my coat, gave a quick glance at the trembling man, and said:

Poor soul, seeing a skull must be quite the thrill, eh? Sorry, love, didnt mean to scare you. Your time isnt up yet, and Im just on holiday, lost a bit of control! Even a seer cant outrun Death, blind as she may be. You cant hide from folks like these

I muttered to myself as I walked onto the platform of a small English town.

Enjoy your holiday, Natalie.