Page 21 of Die for You
I have no idea why, but I ignore him because I only have twenty minutes to find the elusive Madam Gazella in the sea of people.
With no time to waste, I quickly enter the bustling street and decide to walk up and down it. Surely whoever I’m meeting will stand out in some way.
The lively market is filled with excited patrons who sample local food and explore this culture-rich place. I don’t realize Nico has followed me until he reaches for my hand.
I stop dead in my tracks and peer down at our union, then back at him.
“Venire.”
He yanks on my hand and leads me through the throngs of people. It appears he knows where he’s going, which sets off alarm bells. Maybe he is involved after all?
I can deal with the aftermath later because this is one of Gianna’s tests. If I fail, I know she won’t be happy.
Fairy lights line the street and are entangled around the poles of the stalls, setting a romantic mood. A colorful artwork of umbrellas turned upside down hangs on strings coiled between two buildings. Everything is magical.
But with each minute passing, I can’t help but feel claustrophobic. My stomach begins to churn, and I feel vomit rising.
No, not now. I beg my body to withstand this test, and I promise to treat it better come morning. But for now, I just need to find Madam Gazella.
And when we turn a corner and venture down a section which isn’t as busy as the rest, it seems I was right. Nico does know who she is. Just not in the way I thought.
Ahead is a blue tent with a third eye and a crystal ball printed on the side. And in gold letters is the name Madam Gazella.
Is this some sort of joke?
Gianna wants me to see a fortune teller?
I let go of Nico’s hand and signal to him that I won’t be long.
He nods and doesn’t question why I have a meeting with the town’s clairvoyant. He reaches into his back pocket for his wallet and offers me a fifty. I want to wave him off, but I’m not sure what to expect when going into the tent.
So I accept. “I’ll pay you back.”
He smiles and leaves me to face the unknown.
As the clock tower chimes eight times, I enter the tent and am greeted with a black velvet curtain. A bottle of disinfectant spray sits on a small wooden table, accompanied by handwritten instructions in Italian with English translations underneath. It requests that those entering disinfect the soles of their shoes and their hands before proceeding beyond the black curtain.
I do as the sign asks.
Once I’m done, I part the curtain and am greeted by an elderly woman sitting at a round table. A stack of worn tarot cards and a crystal ball sit in front of her. She wears a silk scarf around her head, but wisps of gray hair peek through.
It takes all my willpower not to roll my eyes because this hocus pocus stuff is nothing but a fraud to con people out of their money. But I smile and enter.
She points at the chair opposite her.
I sit and wait, unsure of what to expect.
I notice the large gold crucifix around her neck and the evil eye bracelet she wears. It smells of incense in here, the type used at Mass. Memories of Father Merry arise, but I push them aside.
She reaches across the table and takes my hands. Peering down at the union, I look at the contrast of our hands. Hers are weathered while mine are infant. Each line represents a life event that happened to her, denoting the life she lived.
I wonder what mine will look like when I reach Madam Gazella’s age. Or the better question is, if.
She closes her eyes and appears to concentrate as she rubs her thumb across the back of my hand.
Soon, Italian spills from her, and I frown, disappointed because I don’t understand a word.
Just as I’m about to speak, she opens her eyes and stares at me. “You’ve been brought here for change. And that change must come through death.”
