Do you like stories with mystery and suspense? Strange and “wyrd” ones? Well, if you do, keep reading and enjoy Eggcentricsagas. If you are just joining Eggcentricsagas, you might want to start from the beginning: A La Mano: Part 1-The Treasure
The fabulous aroma of my meal beckoned me to eat it so I only paused long enough to say, “Who would that be, Jim?”
“Madame Mariposa,” he answered. Seeing that I had a mouthful of delicious food he continued, “She’s a card reader.” Going on to explain that she was a soothsayer that claimed relation to the famous French medium, Madame Lenormand, and that he had consulted her on a number of occasions. He enumerated her mastery of delving into the unknown on a myriad of subjects. Vowing for her clairvoyant accuracy, he gave me the address and bade a visit to her.
Satiated and content, I pushed my plate away and lit up a cigarette. Being a practical person, I shied away from such mystical nonsense but to humor him I asked, “She’s sounds interesting but what about the Chinese man in my dream? Do you suppose she will have an answer regarding him?”
Shrugging, he laughed. “The only Chinese man I know is Dr. Wu.”
“The famed magician that used to own Mrs. Tilsby’s Pekingnese? She has nothing good to say about him.”
At the mention of her name, a frown crossed Jim’s face. “Mrs. Tilsby has nothing good to say about anyone. If you ask me, it was her cooking that killed her husband. A saintly man, in my estimation, to put up with the likes of her. A Prussian general is more amiable. ”
I chuckled at his statement and then consulted my pocket watch. I had time to consume another pint; I was in no hurry to return to her and Mr. Fu’s company.
The next day was overcast with dark clouds that promised rain. I stepped off the trolley car with my umbrella in hand and turned down the cobblestone street that contained Madame Mariposa’s establishment. As I passed by the variety of shops, I recalled my previous night’s experience. My recurring nightmare had followed the same lines as before until I was in the bookshop. This time, the door opened and a red-haired woman stood there. I wondered who this dream phantom was before my mind returned to the present, and I checked the street address. But this was unnecessary as a few moments later, I spotted the occultist shop from a distance. There was a wooden sign that marked the entrance. Hanging above the entryway, it was painted with an ominous eye.
Normally, I would scoff at the paranormal, but today was different. Perhaps my mood was from my nightmares, perhaps the weather, perhaps the sign with the eye but it was with slight trepidation that I opened the door and crossed that magic portal. It was a small, dimly lit anteroom that I entered; several chairs with colorful fabric lined the perimeter. An exotic aroma and a bohemian atmosphere pervaded my senses. A slim girl wearing a purple walking dress and matching hat with ostrich plumes sat in one of the chairs. At the back of the room, a heavy, red curtain blocked another entrance and the owners of the muffled voices behind it. A small, beige terrier dressed in a fancy collar and a pointed hat sat next to the curtain. In response to my appearance, he growled.
The dark-haired girl smiled and beckoned me over by patting the seat of the chair next to her. As I sat down, she said softly, “Is this your first time here?” I nodded. “Don’t mind Pepe, he’s really sweet, he just doesn’t like strangers.”
The girl had two packages on her lap; one a brown paper bag and the other a colorful tin. She opened the bag and handed me a cloth. Wrapped inside the rag were a couple of pieces of stewed meat. “Give him those and he will warm up to you.” Calling Pepe over, she petted his head before I gave him the treats. He didn’t seem any friendlier but he took only the food and not my fingers before returning to his post.
As we waited for our consultations the girl filled the time with facts. I learned that her husband was a chef in a famous French restaurant. To prove this, she took a business card out of her purse and pressed it into my hand. She then removed a croissant from her tin and gave it to me. “They are Madame’s favorite.” She pointed to the tea service in the corner opposite Pepe.
I wiped my fingers on the meat cloth and declined the tea but savored the croissant as the buttery flakiness melted in my mouth. Coveting another, I read the card, The Old Poodle Dog. The girl revealed why she was consulting Madame Mariposa. “I am not sure if he loves me still,” she confided as she touched the purple jewels around her neck. “My dreams…” she began but had no time to explain as suddenly a bell rang and Pepe grew alert. He sat up, turned to face the curtain, and cocked his head expectantly. The bell rang again, the girl got up, nodded to me, and then disappeared behind the material door.
When the bell had rung twice again, I knew it was my turn and got up. I stuffed the rag into my pocket, drew the curtain aside and, stepped into Madame Mariposa’s inner sanctum.
Next: Part 6-The Reading
