Chapter three
1066 Words
Give me your hand," The Shaman said, staring directly at Clifford.
Detective Hamilton began to lift his hands, very slowly at first because he was not
sure what he was getting himself into. And yet, he could not shake off the stubborn
feeling that clung to his guts that he had to be here.
A hand halted him mid-way. He stopped, puzzled. It was his friend's hand. He
looked into his eyes and read a thousand messages from it but in the end, he
snatched his hand away and handed it over to the shaman. The ritual was about to
begin.
Officer Charles watched skeptically as the shaman lifted his wrinkled hand over his
friend's hands, reading through his palms like he was reading a book. His eyes
widened as he traced through the lines on his palms and his brows knitted.
Something was not right.
" Clifford," He called softly, his voice sounding normal for once. "You have a very
interesting life."
Clifford swallowed hard, reading through his lips. "I would like to see my future."
The old man smiled slowly and his cheeks folded as he did so. He released his grip
from his hand. "That does not come free you know. I'll charge you 50 bucks for
that."
Officer Hillary grimaced his face. He'd been wondering the whole time what this old
man was doing here instead of being at some home for old people but now, he
knew why. It was for the money.
He watched helplessly as his friend shuffled through his pockets and removed a
$50 bill. He slipped it to the old man who put the crispy note safely away in a
nearby drawer he kept for that purpose.
He looked over at Officer Hillary, sensing the troubled feeling in his guts.
"And you, Charles," He said. "Would you like to take a look at your future too?"
At that moment, his emotions heightened up and there were a thousand and one
things he wanted to say to this con artist who deceived people into parting with
their money but for some reason beyond his understanding, he could not put his
thoughts into words.
So, instead of blurting out everything that was on his mind, he gave a dismissive
nod.
"Nevermind."
Clifford turned to look at him, his eyes filled with despair. "Aren't you even
bothered for a moment to know what the future holds for you?"
"No," He said simply.
"I mean, it must be worrisome to have to do everything we do every day and yet
have no idea what it stands for and whether or not it will matter in the future. Aren't
you curious to know what lies ahead for you?"
His voice had an appealing tone in it and for a moment, Officer Hillary thought he
was about to break. But he stopped himself in time. If this voodoo man was
messing with them, one of them had to stay on guard to make sure that they made
the move to get out of there if things went south.
He shook his head again and this time, neither the old man nor Clifford had the
patience to persuade him any further.
"You see," The old man began. He was sprinkling something that looked like dust
into another bowl that contained incense burning before them. "Reading the future
is an art. One needs to know the past in order to know accurately what the future
holds. To know your future, I have to dive into your past and find out where every
decision you've ever taken is going to lead you to."
Clifford was barely listening. His eyes were kindled with the desire to see what he
was going to become in the coming years.
The old man gave a faint smile. He had seen that look before. These youngsters
were always drunk with the desire to know everything and very often, it ended very
badly for them. He hoped it was different for Clifford Hamilton.
"Let me have your hand again, Clifford."
Clifford handed it over obediently. And for a moment, time stood still and the only
thing that seemed to be moving amongst them was the flames of fire from the
glowing candles before them. He opened his mouth to say something but was
hushed immediately by the old man. Something was wrong. He could tell from the
look on his face.
The old man looked into his palms keenly for another full minute, his eyes widening
like they were about to pop right out of their sockets.
Clifford and Charles had exchanged puzzled looks a thousand times over, trying to
figure out what was happening.
Suddenly, the old man began to mumble words that made no sense to the two
young men seated before him.
"I can see very dark spirits inside of you. I can see a__wolf," He paused and looked
closer. "There's a woman obscuring my view of your future. She's standing before a
red door. It looks like she is trying to keep it closed."
The eerie music they'd both heard at the anteroom returned, this time, with very
peculiar rhythms that seemed to be beating inside their hearts. Clifford felt his
heart slowing. Something was happening to him.
The old man was shaking too. His grip on his hand was loosening. Officer Hillary
was watching them, his heart gripped with fear. Then, he did something
unexpected at the spur of the moment. He lifted his hand and hit it on their arms,
separating the old man from his friend.
Then, he waited for what was coming. The old man lifted his eyes at once, they
were like boiling lava.
"You have to leave at once!" He ordered. "I cannot help you anymore."
Clifford looked at him in surprise. "But you were not done with telling me what you
saw."
The old man heaved a slow breath. It seemed whatever had transpired a few
moments ago had drained him of his strength.
"Well, I'm done, Clifford. There are some very strange spirits at work in your life
which I don't want to mess with. If you really want to help yourself, find the woman
at the red door. She holds the answers you seek."
Clifford shook his head in confusion. "What woman are you talking about? I__"
"Leave, Clifford!" The old man roared. He seemed less friendly this time.
- Writer
