Don't be Frightened, It's Only Reality

March 6th, late afternoon

it began to rain very heavily, and i could feel the water soaking through my flannel shirt into my back. i ducked into the nearest doorway to wait while the rain died down. leaning against the doorframe, i lit a cigarette and watched as the people scattered like ants into shops and their cars. it was early March and the rains always came at this time of year, it's a wonder how people seemed so surprised by it each time.
suddenly the door behind me opened and i stepped to the side to let whoever was coming out through. an older lady dressed mostly in black was standing at the door, neither coming or going, just waiting. her head was covered with a black shawl interlaced with beads. eyes were as black as olives and they peered at me serenely. finally she smiled a bit and spoke,
"would you like to come inside?"
"i'm just waiting for the rain to stop for a bit."
"ok, suite yourself." - slamming the door shut and locking it with the dead bolt. i stood there starring at my shoes for a minute and then admired the tile that was surrounding the door. it was very old and cracked, places where people might of dropped furniture during a move. i stepped out into the rain and looked at the sign hanging over the door. it was weather beaten and showed signs of decay. in red print was the name, "Zvala's"
i figured i should get out of this lady's doorway before she called the cops about a suspicious looking Mexican hanging around outside her place of business. suddenly the door opened again and there she stood, smiling this time.
"i give readings"
"i'm okay, thank you, i was just on my way."
"let me give you a reading, you shouldn't be caught in tis rain, you're liable to get sick."
i thought about it for a beat.
"how much?"
"if what i tell you is inaccurate, then you don't have to pay me. if i'm right, it's $5."
i was down to my last $5 in cash and figured why not? i didn't have anywhere to be and maybe it would be fun to play this game just for a bit.
"okay."
she opened the door wide and i stepped inside a small room. there was a fire burning in the corner and the smell of clove hung in the air. there were many what i believe were hand woven carpets all over the floor set out in no particular order, as if someone was covering up every inch of space, looked to be thrown about. she motioned towards the table in the middle of the room and told me to sit down.
"would you like some coffee?"
"i only have $5."
"no, no, it's part of the reading."
"sure"
she fiddled with a small coffee pot in the corner and i heard it spurting the first few "put puts" as the liquid filled the small glass pot. i observed the lady as she removed her shaw, her hair was grey at the temples and blond midway through. as if her hair changed it's mind one day and went from straight blond to grey overnight. her skin was tight around the eyes as if she spent her whole life smiling, she was short and thin, and looked to be a blend of several different races. every time i looked at her my attention immediately returned back to those pitch black eyes.
"cream? sugar?"
"black."
she laughed. i then laughed too. i laughed because as i said it i was thinking about her eyes, eyes that seemed to see right through me and to the other side of the room, as if i was transparent.
Finally she brought over the coffee and i took a couple sips. hints of cinnamon and it was very strong, almost pungent. she pulled two chairs over into the room near the fire and placed them facing each other.
"please sit here."
i took another sip of coffee and left it on the table. we both sat in the chairs near the fire and she pulled her chair close to mine. knees touching knees. grabbing ahold of my sweaty hands she closed her eyes.
"don't be so nervous"
"sorry."
"you were a nervous child weren't you? filled with anxiety?" - that was a given, anyone could of told me that, but i played along.
"yes."
she stayed silent for a minute. i noticed that her hands were warm, and soft. i began to get an erection. the warmth of her hands went through me and i felt it in my core. she made me feel very comfortable and my hands began to dry. i was filled with this great calming force that made me feel very at ease. she filled me with warmth, while others only made me feel cold and empty inside.
"ahhh... no bueno, mucho mucho malo..."
"what's not good?"
"shhh... listen:
there is a bad man with you. you fight him all of the time, since an early age you felt him wanting to get out, but you try not to let him. he comes out sometimes, when you are vulnerable, and you do very very bad things, but not to others, you punish yourself for having this bad person with you. you've taught yourself to be very good to people, kind, almost too kind. but in the process he likes to destroy you instead. you're repenting for him, and he does not like it. so he fights harder, and you fight harder to make him go away. on and on like this... he is a womanizer, constantly wanting you to go from bed to bed without any kind of remorse for your actions. he wants you to beat the women you are with, make them feel as if they don't deserve you..."
"i -"
"shhh..."
she adjusted herself in the chair, and held my hands a bit tighter.
"someone cursed you a very long time ago, an older man, he is jealous of you and does not want to see you fall in love. that is how the bad man inside of you came about. darkness hangs over you..."
-i thought for a minute about the stupid cartoon they draw where there's a guy with a look of despair on his face as the little grey rain cloud hovers above him where ever he goes. this sounded like bullshit to me, i was never one to believe in these kind of readings, but i let her go on.
"the saints are with you, and they help you even though you pay them no heed. you are very tired of this aren't you? it drags you down every day and you can't help but move forward with your head slightly off to one side.. you're very strong to not let any of that bad seep out of you and into other people. your heart is good, but others only see trouble when you come their way, so they shun you, and thats when you can hear him laughing inside of you, poking at you, and the saints come in your dreams to haul you away into the arms of someone."

i thought of my uncle who believed in the saints. in the corner of his room he had a small red cloth laid out on the floor with a candle and other small things. whenever he drank, he would fill a cup with tequila and place it on the cloth. he also put cigars, the skeleton of a turtle, and a small bowl filled with pistachios. what did my uncle gain from all of this foolishness? he died before he even reached the age of 28 from AIDS. i didn't believe in the saints.

"you don't believe do you?"
"no."
"what do you believe?"
"reality."
"who's?"
"what i see"
"and what do you see?"
"loss of humanity, technological overload, quantity and not quality. disillusion. lives filled with plastic emotions."
"you've never loved have you?"
"almost"
"what happened?"
"it always ends the same."
"they don't deserve you"
"that's what they all say."
-i was beginning to grow tired and claustrophobic. i wanted out. i wanted a beer. i wanted a cigarette and i wanted to go home to my books. that's all i got. me and the books. that's all i need. everything else will only hurt me. it's safe in there, in the room. the walls and the books. my face in the books. the books don't hurt back.
-i as well cannot hurt others if i am locked away in the room with only paper to fuel me. i'm no good, broken, angry and filled with fire. it's better if i'm left alone to my own devices. you can't hurt me, i can't hurt you. nobody hurts.
"it sounds as though the rain has stopped."
"yes.. it has."
i stood up and smiled gracefully. i reached for my wallet. i wanted to pay for taking up her time and the coffee.
"no.. no money."
"ummm..."
"you need to hold onto it. can i offer some advice before you go?"
"sure"
"it's not hopeless, and even if you don't believe in them, they will continue helping you, you are not alone in your fight. as for the hex on you, take those $5 and buy a couple of candles and burn them when you are alone. when you drink, offer some to the saints along with the candles and small bits of paper. they like it when you feed them paper."
"thank you."
i smiled and made for the door. as i was opening the door i saw her hand grab ahold of my forearm. i turned and starred into those piercing eyes.
"don't ever let him out, the harm you will inflict will overtake you with guilt."
"i won't"
she gave me a kiss on the cheek and i felt very warm inside again. i opened the door and walked back out into the cold concrete that was the world. vulnerable and open, like a fresh wound.