Otto grabs a milk crate and sets it down by our front stairs as a front row seat. “You said I would have a ton of homework and fail an exam.”
Gerty holds her hands out to the side. “Did you?”
“Yes, but it’s because you convinced me I would.”
“That’s not how this works,” she says.
Danner and Felix both step out of their front doors at the same time. Danner takes slow steps toward us, and I can already tell he’ll turn down hearing his fortune. He thinks it’s bad luck to predict the future. Meanwhile, Felix thinks our fortunes are a golden door to tomorrow.
“It’s time for Fortune Friday,” Gerty announces.
Felix rubs his hands together and juts his tongue out.
I spot another milk crate and set it up at the base of the bottom step so Gerty can place the glass ball on it. She retrieves a deck of playing cards from her pocket and places those in front of the ball.
“Danner, you’re up first,” Gerty says. “I have a message coming in for you.”
“No, no, no. Your prediction that I’m going to wet my pants next week is getting old and still hasn’t happened, so I no longer need your services,” Danner says as Gerty shuffles the playing cards.
“I bet you wouldn’t turn down your fortune if Emilie offered it to you,” Gerty teases in a singing tune.
“Gerty,” I hiss at her, my cheeks burning.
Our girl-talk is supposed to be kept secret.
“He knows I’m not serious,” she replies with a giggle.
Danner shrugs and takes a seat beside me, facing the pale green stone house he lives in with his parents and younger brother, David.
“Emi, did you ask your parents about Sunday?” Otto asks.
“What’s on Sunday?” Gerty inserts herself.
“There’s a festival. My parents told me I could bring a friend.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Gerty inquires.
“Because…I asked Emilie,” he says with a raised brow.
“Oh,” she says. “Well, I read your fortune, and it turns out, you’re the one who will pee his pants this week.”
“Liar,” he argues.
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” she teases.
“Oh, right, the festival. I—I—uh, can’t make it on Sunday. I’m sorry, Otto. My parents told me I need to stay nearby.”
Gerty glances at me with curiosity. She left just before Mama said what she did.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Otto says, scuffing the dirt with the tip of his boot. “Is it because of the new Aryan Paragraph regulation about cultural exclusion? Because my family and I would never go to a festival that supported something like that. I promise that’s not something you have to dwell on.”
“Jewish people aren’t supposed to take part in any public event with this new regulation. I don’t think any festival has a choice of whether they follow this law,” Gerty says, placing the cards down to take in the news.
“That’s what I heard too, but it’s not like it’s something we would ever participate in. We aren’t supporting that law. It’s not like that.” Otto takes a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket, turns away and lights up. When he turns back, he narrows his eyes, and silently whistles the smoke up toward the cloudy sky.
“Yeah,” Felix says. “I wasn’t aware of… Gerty, how come you didn’t know about that if you can see the future?”
“I—I don’t—we shouldn’t be talking about this out loud,” I say. Mama said not to disagree with anything where someone can hear us. I’m not sure who else could hear us, but I think it’s best to find something else to talk about.
