Hands of Fate
Disclaimer: Don’t own the characters or the concepts; just borrowing them!
Category: Basically Liz, with a little Maria, and all of it pertaining to the men in their lives.
Summary: The gang goes to a carnival and Maria drags Liz to see the fortune teller.
Spoilers: Shows aired through Sexual Healing. The fortune teller does allude to things in her readings that are based on the spoilers for the shows following Sexual Healing, but no specifics are given.
Rating: PG
Note: This story was partially inspired by the book Chocolat by Joanne Harris, although it may not be immediately obvious if you’ve read the book. I also listened to Loreena McKennitt’s The Book of Secrets and anything Sarah McLachlan nonstop while writing.
* * *
Prologue
The carnival comes to Roswell on a night with no moon. In the wee hours before dawn, surrounded by darkness, the tents rise on the far edge of town and form a shadowy barrier between the sleeping citizens and the desert that stretches beyond. Thrill rides and games of chance, food stalls with colorful signs to lure the pickiest of eaters, mysterious booths shuttered away from curious eyes – what was an open field is transformed into a wondrous sight before sunrise.
As the first light creeps over the horizon, trailers are hidden from view behind the tents and tired bodies collapse on narrow beds to catch a few hard-earned hours of sleep. Yet, despite the silence, there is a hum of energy that fills the air. Another day is about to begin.
* * * * *
I’ve never been a superstitious person. I believe in things I can see, things I can prove. Even the truth about Max, Michael, and Isabel is something I can rationalize scientifically – they follow another planet’s laws of nature. So, I was probably the last person who should have gone with Maria to see the fortune teller at the carnival last night. But Michael started to make fun of her as soon as she mentioned it, and Alex and Isabel were off on the Ferris Wheel together. And I could tell she really wanted to go. So, we sent Max and Michael off to play some impossible game that required you to throw a tennis ball into a fish bowl, with strict instructions to win each of us something big and cuddly, and no cheating allowed. Then I tucked my arm through hers and we headed toward the small tent at the far side of the fair grounds, because, after all, what are best friends for?
* * * * *
Liz and Maria stood outside the tent and peered at the sign to one side of the entrance. “The Mysteries of Life Revealed: Past, Present, and Future,” Liz read aloud. “Palm readings and the Tarot.” She made a face. “You really want to do this, Maria?” she asked.
“Yeah, I do. Come on, Liz,” she coaxed. “It’ll be fun. Don’t you want to know if Max is the man of your dreams?” Maria teased.
“Really, Maria. These people are just good storytellers who weave a few vague ideas into some elaborate future for you. You don’t really believe in it, do you?”
“Of course not,” Maria said with a smile. “I’m just curious to see what words of advice she’ll have about Spaceboy. Relax,” she added quickly, when she saw Liz frown. “It isn’t like I’m gonna say anything to her.” She gave Liz’s hand a tug. “Let’s go in. There’s no line or anything. We’ll just have our palms read.”
“Okay. You’re right,” she said with a grin. “It could actually be kind of funny.” Liz reached out and held aside the flap of the tent and the two girls went inside.
It took their eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Candles were placed precariously around the tent’s perimeter and a large brass oil lamp sat on a round table directly in front of them. The table itself was covered with a heavy dark cloth. Several wooden chairs with woven cushions surrounded the table. There appeared to be no one there.
“Well,” Liz said. “I guess now we know why there wasn’t a line.” She took a step forward and looked around, her brow creasing. “It really isn’t safe to leave all of these candles burning unattended.”
“There is no danger.”
Liz and Maria spun around at the sound of the low voice. A woman was standing in the entrance, her dark eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight. “Uh… that’s good,” Liz said, feeling flustered. She found herself squeezing Maria’s arm tightly and made an effort to loosen her grip. “We… uh…”
“You came to have your palms read,” the woman supplied for her with a slight nod. “Please, be seated.” She held out her hands to indicate the two closest chairs.
“Yes, thank you,” Liz replied. As she and Maria moved to sit down, she watched the fortune teller make her way to the opposite side of the table. It was impossible to determine the woman’s age. Her face and hands were unlined, her long black hair showing no signs of graying, yet in her expression there was a certain maturity that Liz associated with a woman of at least fifty or sixty. Although she wore a flowing black dress and had several colorful scarves draped over her shoulders, she did not fit Liz’s image of a fortune teller. Somehow Liz had expected the movie stereotype, complete with a thick European accent and gold hoop earrings. This woman seemed too modern to make her living through divination.
Maria reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet. “How much for a palm reading?” she asked.
The woman waved her hand quickly over the table. “We do not discuss this at this time,” she said quietly, her voice firm.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not having my palm read if I don’t know what it is going to cost,” Maria said.
“You pay what it is worth,” came the reply, but the fortune teller kept her eyes focused on Liz as she spoke. “It will be no more than you are willing to part with.”
Liz turned to Maria and shrugged. “I guess that’s fair.”
“Okay,” Maria agreed, and tucked her wallet back out of sight. “You wanna go first, Liz?”
Before Liz could answer, the fortune teller placed her hands on the table, palms up, and began to hum softly. Looking at her, Liz and Maria saw she had closed her eyes and seemed to be concentrating intently. Then she reached out with the hand nearest to Maria and opened her eyes again. “You shall be first,” she told her. “Your hand, please.”
“Oh,” Maria said.
“Go on, Maria,” Liz prompted. “After all, this was your idea.”
“Fine.” She reached out and placed her hand in front of the woman. “If it’s really bad, don’t tell me.”
The fortune teller looked directly into Maria’s eyes. “There is no bad or good, just endless cycles. I can only tell you what I see at this point in time.” Her long fingers curved around Maria’s hand, cradling it, and she bent to peer at her palm. Maria felt a chill run down her spine.
The woman traced one red-tipped nail over Maria’s hand, following the lines that creased her palm as if committing them to memory. Periodically she would nod or frown or utter a simple “uh huh”, as if things were becoming clearer to her with each passing moment. Finally, she looked up. “You have an interesting past, young woman. It has been frequently difficult. Precarious. This is not something that will change soon, I am afraid. However, the nature of your difficulties has shifted. The things that will threaten your balance in the future will not be faced alone.” She looked down again, indicating a line crossing through the center of Maria’s palm. “You will face many trials, some of them very soon. Do not forget those lessons you have learned. Do not give back that which you have fought for. Remember that walls can be rebuilt if you allow them to be.”
Maria jerked and pulled her hand away. “What did you say?” she asked, a tremor in her voice. She hadn’t told anyone what Michael has said about needing to be a stone wall, not even Liz. She met the fortune teller’s gaze and was frightened by the knowing look the woman gave her. As if from a distance, she heard Liz asking if she was okay, but she ignored her. “What did you mean?” she asked, pronouncing each word distinctly.
The fortune teller bowed her head, indicating Maria’s hand. Reluctantly, Maria reached across the table again. The woman continued as if there had been no interruption. “You must remember why you believe in the people around you, and trust that their judgement may surpass your own. And know that things are not always what they seem. The stakes are mortally high. Measure your words.” With that, she released her hand and sat back, eyes closed once more. She seemed to breathe deeply, as if regaining strength.
Maria drew her hand back and rubbed her palm against her thigh, as if trying to wipe away the future. Avoiding Liz’s eye, she reached into her wallet, grabbed a twenty and threw it on the table, then stood and quickly headed for the door. “I’ll wait for you outside, Liz,” she said.
“Maria, wait!” Liz called.
She turned in the doorway and shook her head. “I’ll be okay. Stay, Liz. You need to have her read your palm, too. Please.” Maria was trembling visibly, but her voice was low and serious. “Listen to her, Lizzie.” Then she slipped outside.
“Your friend has her own kind of strength. She is a survivor.”
Liz turned angry eyes on the woman before her. “I don’t understand how you managed to freak her out this way, but I want to know what gives you the right? Why couldn’t you just tell her some pretty story about her future – the tall handsome man in her life, how she’ll get married and have three kids and a dog? Why would you want to scare her?”
“I told her what she needed to hear. I told her the truth. It is not up to me to decide the future.”
Liz stood, her emotions too high to allow her to sit placidly in her chair. Leaning across the table, she looked the fortune teller in the eye. “I don’t think I’m interested in your version of the future,” she snapped.
The woman tilted her head to one side, the gesture seeming to indicate that the decision was not hers. “We all see what we want to see,” she said quietly. “Only you can decide whether you are ready for that knowledge.”
“What I am is ready to leave,” Liz said, head high. She turned, intent on going after Maria.
“That is your choice, of course,” the woman said. “You must follow your heart, wherever it may lead.”
Liz froze halfway to the door, a tremor going through her body. Slowly, she turned and faced the fortune teller. “What did you say?”
“Follow your heart, wherever it leads you,” she repeated, her eyes meeting Liz’s. “The best advice is oft repeated thrice,” she added.
Standing very still, Liz waited, her gaze trained on the woman . The silence stretched on unbroken. “That was only two times,” she finally said softly.
The fortune teller smiled. “But, the second and the third. Merely echoes of that which you already knew.”
Liz nodded. She walked slowly back to the table and sat down. “How did you know that?” she asked, her voice tinged with fear.
“The past and the future are linked. Time is liquid.” She paused, extending her hand toward Liz. “For some, the comforts of the known may cushion that which has yet to be determined.”
Hesitantly, Liz reached out and placed her hand on the table, palm up. The fortune teller grasped it lightly and Liz was surprised at the warmth and the strength of the woman’s grip.
As she had with Maria, the fortune teller examined the lines crossing Liz’s palm, murmuring under her breath from time to time. Her brow was creased with concentration and her eyes clouded with focus. When her eyes flicked upward to meet Liz’s gaze, there was a look of comprehension as well as mild surprise.
“There is duality in your life, in your destiny. You live two lives, are living a second life.”
“What does that mean?” Liz asked, feeling her stomach clench. “What second life?”
The woman chuckled softly, tracing a line in Liz’s hand. “Your life line is split,” she explained. Then she looked directly into Liz’s eyes. “You have known death, yet you live. This portion of your life is a reprieve.”
“That’s impossible,” Liz breathed.
The fortune teller shrugged. “Your hand does not lie. Two lives were you granted, two lives you live. One in shadow, one in light.” She traced a different line, almost a caress. “You know love, a love that transcends time and space. Soulmates,” she murmured, looking up with a smile. “You have known each other in many lives, and shall meet again. Souls that love so deeply are destined to be joined. This has always been your fate.”
Liz frowned, causing the woman to laugh aloud, a robust sound that filled the small tent. “Your confusion is plain. Souls are not human things, not bound to this place. A thousand worlds, a thousand galaxies, a thousand light years – none of these may part those who are meant to be.”
Liz wrenched her hand away, her eyes wide, sudden terror overwhelming her. “Who are you?”
“I am no one you need fear, though there are many who may wish you harm,” she replied, her voice soothing and even. “Your future holds great peril. I would ask that you allow me to do a reading for you. The Tarot may reveal much that is not held in your palm. With the cards we may see the movement of many.”
A cool breeze blew through the room, causing the candles in the tent to flicker briefly. However, when Liz looked toward the door she saw no one had come in and the tent flap remained undisturbed. She shivered slightly and huddled into her leather jacket. The fortune teller sat without speaking, waiting patiently. Her dark eyes seemed to absorb every ray of light from the dim oil lamp as she watched Liz trying to make up her mind. There was a peaceful assurance to her expression that indicated she had no doubt as to Liz’s ultimate decision.
Finally, Liz nodded. “Okay,” she told her. “We’ll do a Tarot reading.”
The woman reached below her chair and drew forth a worn deck of cards. The backs were plain, scored with a simple blue and white design. As Liz watched, fascinated despite herself, the fortune teller swiftly shuffled the deck, her hands deftly maneuvering the cards through a range of fans and bridges until they had been rearranged a half dozen times. Then she placed the stack in the center of the table and indicated that Liz should cut the deck. Reaching forward to do as she was told, Liz could feel the warmth from the woman’s hands that had been transferred to the cards during her manipulations. Energy seemed to radiate from the cards as she quickly separated them into three neat piles. When she drew her hand away, the fortune teller quickly restacked the deck and held it firmly with both hands. Eyes closed, she seemed to stroke the cards, her forehead lined with concentration. Then she opened her eyes and drew the top card from the deck, placing it squarely on the table in front of Liz.
“This card represents you,” she told her. “The High Priestess. Wisdom, tenacity, that which is learned through science. Also, secrets. Mystery. A future yet to be revealed. Again there is duality.”
Liz looked curiously at the card. The woman depicted sat with a scroll in her lap, her face serious. Before she could examine it more closely, however, the fortune teller began to place additional cards on the table, forming a cross that covered the existing card, and a row beside it. Liz looked up and caught what she thought might have been a look of apprehension on the woman’s face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by the placid expression that had graced her features before.
“The Lovers,” the woman began, smiling as if amused. “A card I expected to see. This card represents love, attraction, beauty. It also indicates trials you must overcome, as is always the case with true love.” Her gaze found Liz’s and held. “No love is easy or uncomplicated, particularly that which is destined.”
Her smile faded. “You are crossed by this,” she continued, tapping another card. “The Hanged Man. The trials to come will bring sacrifice. They shall require wisdom, as well as intuition. That which you face has been prophesized. Just as your love is fated, so is that which you struggle against.”
The woman paused, considering the cards. “This represents your ideal – that which you may hope for. The Sun. Happiness, fortune, good marriage. The attainment of you dreams. And below, your foundation. The Ace of Swords,” she said. “This represents triumph, but not necessarily success. You must guard against excess in both love and hate, for that which makes you strong in battle may destroy that for which you fight.”
Liz frowned. “What does all of this mean?”
“Hush, child,” the woman replied. “The Tarot is not a precise art. One must review the whole to discern its message.” She pointed at the next card. “Behind you is the Six of Cups, a card of your past. Childhood pleasures, innocence, safety. These things you have abandoned in favor of knowledge and new relationships.”
“Isn’t that part of growing up?” Liz muttered.
“Not all things happen as a natural progression. For some the innocence of childhood is wrenched away through sudden revelations and responsibility.” The fortune teller rested one red-tipped finger on the card that followed. “The Devil,” she said, her voice so low Liz could barely hear her. “That which you must face.”
It’s just a card, Liz thought, but she trembled despite herself. The card depicted a horned beast with a man and woman chained before him. Whatever it predicted, she knew it could not be good.
“You will meet with violence, vehemence, a need to exert extraordinary force in your struggle. The future is predestined, yet that does not necessarily mean that evil will prevail. However, it will take great effort to turn the tide in your favor.” She took a deep breath, then indicated the cards in the next row. “The Wheel of Fortune. Despite your need for reasons and proof, you place your trust in destiny and the whims of fortune. And indeed, the days to come will rely heavily on luck. Remember this when your mind is clouded and outsiders leave you in confusion. Next, the Moon. The atmosphere around you is fraught with danger. You face deception and hidden enemies. Your eyes may not always be trusted. Here, the Six of Wands in a reversed position. You fear treachery and disloyalty, and rightly. Beware, for the gates may be opened to the enemy by one you call a friend. Intentions aside, the danger may prove mortal.”
The fortune teller’s voice grew lower, softer. “Finally, the last card. That which will come. The Last Judgement. A card with many meanings, of vague images. It signifies a change of position, renewal. There will be resolution, but who is favored is not revealed.” Her eyes flicked upward, their dark depths unreadable. “There is grave danger in your future, this cannot be denied. Only you can determine the outcome. You have a strong heart – stronger than most. Even when broken, it will not lead you astray. Trust in it when your mind is muddled. And remember this: a strong heart will heal and – in so doing – may grow stronger still. Do not turn away from that which your heart craves.” The fortune teller swept her hand quickly across the table, gathering the cards together into a tidy pile. “Believe or not as you choose,” she said. “But exercise caution.”
Liz stood, still staring at the woman before her, unsure of what to think. She pulled her wallet from her jacket pocket and drew out several bills which she placed on the table with precise movements. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
The woman nodded. “If you remember nothing else, remember this: he has allowed you into his heart. This you know, for he showed you when he had everything to lose. Do not doubt him.”
Liz stood perfectly still, her mind suddenly flashing to that night at the Crashdown when Max Evans had let her inside his thoughts, shown her his most guarded feelings. For an instant she felt the rush of his love careening through her blood stream, his memories crowding into her brain. “Who are you? Where are you from?” she asked the woman before her.
A small smile, a small shake of the head. “I am from many places,” the woman answered. “From a long line of gypsies that has traveled this world through the ages. I merely follow where my gift requires me to go.” She tilted her head. “Your friends await you. Go now.”
“Thank you,” Liz said again. She paused, wanting to say something else, wanting to insist that she didn’t really believe in fortunes and fates and dire predictions for the future. But something stopped her from speaking, perhaps the look of knowing amusement in the woman’s eyes. Then the moment seemed to have passed. Liz turned and walked away.
Outside the tent, Max was pacing, looking vaguely worried. He had a large purple plush elephant tucked under one arm. When he saw Liz, he looked relieved. “Hey,” he said. “I was trying to decide if I should come in after you. You’ve been in there forever.”
“Where’s Maria?”
Max frowned. “She and Michael left. She seemed kind of upset about something.” He paused, looking carefully at Liz. “Are you okay? You’re awfully pale.”
Liz made an effort to smile, though she still felt disturbed by the fortune teller’s strange predictions. “I’m okay.” She eyed the elephant. “Is he by any chance for me?”
Max looked down and laughed, then handed her the elephant. “You should have been there. I displayed an amazing talent for getting tennis balls into fish bowls.”
Hugging the stuffed animal, Liz raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure,” she said dryly. “So, how badly did you guys cheat?”
Pulling both Liz and the elephant into his arms, Max grinned. “I only helped Michael out a little bit,” he admitted. “He’s got lousy aim.” He hugged her tight, then frowned, feeling the slight tremors coursing through her body. “Okay, something happened. You’re shaking.”
Liz let her head rest on his shoulder. “I guess I just got a little spooked,” she admitted. “Max, this woman was really eerie.”
He rubbed one hand up and down her back in even, soothing strokes. “How do you mean?” he asked softly. “Surely you don’t buy into this stuff?”
“I don’t. I didn’t.” She sighed, feeling both silly and scared. “I don’t know, Max. I know it sounds ridiculous, but she knew things. Things she shouldn’t have known.”
Max drew back and looked into Liz’s eyes, not liking the fear he heard in her voice. “What things?”
“It started with Maria. She was reading her palm and it was all fine and then suddenly she said something that just freaked Maria out completely. I could tell whatever it was really hit a nerve. Maria paid her and practically ran out. But before she left she told me I had to stay. That I had to listen.”
“What did the woman say that got Maria so upset?”
Liz shrugged. “None of it meant anything to me. I can’t even be sure what part set her off.”
“Okay, so what about you?” Max asked.
“Well, I was all ready to go after Maria, and the fortune teller told me I had to follow my heart, wherever it may lead.” Liz looked at Max, trying to gauge if he remembered what those words meant to her. Within seconds the look in his eyes told her.
“Your grandmother,” he said softly.
She nodded. “She said it two times. Then said something about good advice being repeated three times. And when I said that was only twice, she told me it was the second and the third, and that it was an echo of something I already knew.”
“So you stayed,” he finished for her, understanding completely.
“I had to, Max. So, she read my palm. And then she wanted to do a Tarot reading.”
“What did she tell you?”
Liz looked down, feeling embarrassed. Although she knew how Max felt about her, she still didn’t feel comfortable telling him the fortune teller had called them soulmates.
“Liz,” he coaxed, tilting her chin up with one finger. “You can tell me anything. You know that,” he prompted softly.
“I know,” she said, but she could feel herself blushing. “She said that I know true love, and that it was destined. And that we’d been together in past lives.”
Max smiled. “So far I don’t hear anything to get upset about.”
Liz frowned, remembering the rest of the woman’s words. “Max, somehow she knows about you.”
“What?”
“She said that souls aren’t human. She said that nothing can keep soulmates apart, not even galaxies. Max, it was perfectly clear that she knew about you.”
“Liz, that can’t be. How would she know?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Max, but she did. And she also said that we’re going to be facing many trials and great danger and hidden enemies and…” She broke off, wrapping her arms around him, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m scared, Max. She was so real, so believable.”
Max held her tightly, but he was clearly shaken. “Shhh… it’ll be okay,” he said. “I think maybe I should go talk to this woman. Find out how much she knows. She must be working with someone. Will you be okay out here for a minute or do you want to go find Alex and Iz and I can come back?”
“Max, I don’t think she’s working with anyone. I mean, she seemed to be on our side,” Liz said. “I can’t explain it.”
“You don’t think she’s…”
Liz shook her head. “No, she’s not one of you. I asked her who she was and she knew just what I was driving at, but she’s not. She’s just a gypsy.”
“I don’t believe in fortune tellers, Liz,” Max said helplessly. “Neither do you.”
She shrugged. “I never used to believe in aliens, either,” she reminded him gently.
“I’m going inside. Will you be okay?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Just don’t take too long.”
“I won’t.” He kissed her quickly, then darted into the tent.
Liz stood hugging the stuffed elephant tightly and waited for Max to return. It only took a moment. Then he was standing in front of her, looking perplexed.
“What?” she asked. “What happened?”
“There’s no one inside,” he told her.
“Max, that’s not possible,” Liz said. “We’ve been standing right here the whole time. There’s no other exit.”
“I know. But there’s no one in there, Liz.” Max ran a hand through his hair in a Michael-esque gesture. “There’s no place for her to hide. I even looked under the table. The tent’s empty.”
Liz grabbed him by the hand and pulled him after her back into the tent. The candles and the lamp were still lit. The money was still on the table. But the woman was gone. “Max, she was here.”
“Liz, I’m not doubting you. But she’s gone now.” He tugged gently on her hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find Alex and Isabel and go home.”
Liz stood for a moment, staring at the chair where the fortune teller had sat. She nodded slowly. “You’re right,” she agreed. “Let’s go home.”
* * * * *
It’s almost time to go to work. I’m hoping Maria will talk to me about what happened last night, because I really need to know what the fortune teller told her and why she was so upset. I have a feeling it’s important. Just as important as what she told me. I’m just hoping that between the two of us, it will all make a little more sense. So much was vague and mysterious.
I’m still trying to decide how much to tell Max. Part of me agrees with him. I don’t believe in fortune tellers or Tarot cards. I don’t believe a perfect stranger can tell you where your future lies or what fate has in store for you. I believe we determine our own fate, shape our own destinies. I believe in free will. But a little voice deep inside me is telling me that I am wrong. This woman was different. She knew things. She knew things that she had no right to know. So, it stands to reason that her version of the future will come true.
She made some dire predictions, talked of danger and enemies and sacrifice. I’ll admit she has me frightened. I know that if I go to Max and tell him everything else she said, he’ll want to take care of me, because that is how he is. It is in Max’s nature to take control and to protect the ones he loves. But one thing is holding me back – and that is the part of the fortune teller’s predictions that scares me the most. She told me to trust my heart, because even broken it is stronger than most. Which leads me to the question that kept me awake last night, long after Max had kissed me good bye and gone home. I lay in bed until dawn crept through the curtains and asked myself over and over again – just how do I get that broken heart?
***
END
