The woman’s mouth curved into a knowing smile as she gestured for him to take a seat at a small round table adorned with a purple velvet cloth and an array of brightly colored cards.
“Shall we see what the cards have to say?” Her bracelets jingled as she sat across from him, the light from the windows glinting off the rings adorning her fingers.
“I am Madame Cassandra.” She slid a paper encased in some kind of shiny material across the table to him.
“Which reading would you like?”
The outrageous sums of money made him swallow, but Callan pulled out the green paper, counting off the bills, hesitating when he saw he would only have a hundred and fifty dollars left. It did not seem like a great deal in this time, everything cost so much money.
Yesterday, he’d spent a few hours at an eating establishment, learning about the green paper money by watching people coming and going as they bought food that came in bags. The fast food as ’twas called was tasty, aye, that is until the food turned cold, and then it was revolting, but at least there was a goodly amount of it, so he was no longer hungry.
She held out her hand, annoyance flashing across her face. “Are we doing this or not?”
Curiosity won out as Callan handed over the precious money.
The woman’s hair was the color of red wine, which made him nervous as it reminded him of Agnes. Her skin was pale, eyes a dark brown, and she had a drawing on her inner arm of a butterfly.
She shuffled the cards with a practiced ease as she laid them out in a spread before him, her eyes narrowing as she studied the arrangement.
“I see... a journey,” she began, her voice filled with drama. “A journey fraught with peril, but also great opportunity. You will face challenges, but emerge victorious in the end.”
Hrumph. This was no true witch. Callan leaned back in the chair arms crossed as she told him other tidings from the cards, all more generic than the first, as he fidgeted in his seat.
“Ye speak of things that might apply to a great many men, witch,” he scoffed, rising from his seat and striding for the door.
“But... but I can help you,” she called after him.
Callan ignored her as he stomped out of the shop, the bell above the door jingling in his wake.
’Twas much the same with the other two women who claimed to be seers of the future. The second witch predicted he would come into great wealth, but alas, she could not tell him how to travel through time.
The third seer grew angry and accused him of making fun of her when he asked if she could send him back to his own time. She tossed his money at him and told him to leave. As he rose, she snatched one of the bills back, telling him ’twas payment for the time he’d wasted.
No matter what they called themselves, these false witches had no power. Disgusted at wasting the precious green paper money on their services, he purchased four hot dogs for his supper, which to his immense relief were not made from the actual meat of dogs. Callan sat on a bench outside the aquarium, a sign proclaiming the place to be full of creatures that resided deep within the sea.
The hot dogs were delicious, piled with savory toppings, the bread free of pebbles, and the taste. Aye, he could eat these dogs every day.
The aquarium was closing for the day so he decided to come back on the morrow. Instead of sleeping rough, he made his way back to the church and slept in a large room on a comfortable cot with many others, some who were touched in the head, and others down on their luck.
After another shower and a hearty meal of bacon, eggs, toast, and sweet bread with syrup called a pancake, Callan went back to the aquarium hoping it would help him decide what to do next. The wretched fates had not sent him back to his own time, so he must make his own way, earning coin and procuring a place to stay until he could find a powerful enough witch to send him back to his own time. Or until the fates took mercy on him and tossed him through time, back to where he belonged.
A group of children gathered outside the aquarium, so Callan followed them inside, listening as a woman told them all about the creatures they passed.
He marveled at the vibrant fish darting through the water, scales shimmering in the light.
As the group stopped in front of a tank filled with exotic sea creatures, Callan strained to listen to the woman leading the tour, to make sense of her speech. He was getting better at mastering the odd tongue.
Two of the school children wrinkled their noses as they passed him, whispering to each other about a bad smell. Callan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he sniffed his armpits. Nay, he was clean from the shower and soap, but as he moved, he caught a whiff of old blood, muck and other less savory scents. ’Twas his plaid that smelled. People in this time were much more concerned with their appearance and how they smelled than they were in his own time.
In the garderobe, Callan tried to clean the plaid as best he could, using the scented soap and odd towels that people simply tossed into the trash when they were finished, scrubbing at a few of the larger bloodstains.
Back amongst the wee ones, he found himself in front of a tank containing a fish called a Goliath Grouper. The fish was bigger than most of the kids, who along with Callan pressed their noses to the glass as the fish swam around, unconcerned with them.
The penguins made him laugh as they waddled from side to side when they walked, but after seeing all the creatures that lived in the water, especially the sharks which were most fearsome, Callan decided he would not swim in the ocean anymore unless he could see what might be coming to eat him.
After watching a giant octopus, he understood why sailors feared the beast would take them down to the depths of the ocean. The aquarium with its marvelous sea creatures was a most enjoyable way to pass the time. As he strolled from exhibit to exhibit, he tried to remember if Lucy had said anything to him during their journey, other thanwhateverthat might aid him in going back to his own time.
And if he could not?
