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Authors: William Goldman

BOOK: Control
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She

s a phony fortune-teller,
’’
Billy Boy explained.

I

m better than her and I want my ten dollars back.

The one with pants moved a step forward, his knife held in front of him, his body balanced.

What you
want
and what you
get
ain

t necessarily the same, bimbo.

On the word

get

he pushed his knife higher into the air, making his meaning very clear.

Billy Boy sat there blinking. This was New York and you had to be careful. But they were making a fool of him. She was a phony fortune-teller and that was a bad thing, because some of the greatest people he had ever met were fortune-tellers—no, more—some of the greatest people who ever lived were fortune-tellers. It was a job you didn

t bullshit around with so even though it was New York and even though he knew he had to be careful, he quickly stood and turned his right hand into a fist and turned his right arm into a club and raised it high and took two steps toward the one with pants who started all of a sudden screaming

Give him the fucking money, Jesus Christ, you trying to get me killed?

and then he turned and ran back down the corridor and the one with just underwear grabbed the bill from under the ashtray and threw it to Billy Boy and then he turned and began beating up on the fortune-teller while he screamed at her in Spanish and the kids by the wall still watched in silence and they were the last things Billy Boy looked at as he left, shaking his head, wondering what kids like that were gonna turn out to be, living a life like that?


Is this my lucky day or not and how much is it gonna cost me?

Billy Boy said to the next fortune-teller, a black one. She had her storefront between Eighth and Ninth, on forty-something street, right near the first, both of them right near the bus station. That was just one of the great things about stations, all the fortune-tellers. When you were at a station you weren

t home and when you weren

t home you weren

t safe and when you weren

t safe, that was when a fortune-teller really came in handy. A good one. And this black lady looked good. Sometimes the black ones
knew.


Not a penny. Come sit.

Billy Boy squinted at her.

How do you pay your rent then if you don

t charge nothing?


Come sit.

Billy Boy looked around. Same storefront setup as before. A corridor leading back. The TV on. Now here came three little
black kids, peeking out

Okay,

he said finally, taking the chair across from her, holding out his hands palms up.

But don

t try bullshitting me about how Fm crying on the inside or my wife really loves me or I

ll have a Merry Christmas. Is today a lucky day? Period. Yes or no?


Do you sleep?


Huh?


At night. Do you sleep?



Course.


Well, not me. I sit up all night in my trances. That

s when my candlevision comes.


Your what comes?


And when I said no money, I meant no money. I don

t want nothing from you till you can

t stand but to give it to me. Till you are desperate to hand it over. Till you are so grateful you got to slip me bread or you

ll die of a guilty conscience.
Then
you pay me all you want. I got no limits then. You get me?

Billy Boy didn

t.


I
don

t take nothing in advance, that

s all
Fm different from a lot of these honkys and Spies—there

s a lot of phonies in this town, believe me.

Billy Boy did.


Now you wanna know about a lucky day. Sheeeat. That

s nothin

to wanna know. With candlevision, I can tell you a lucky
hour.
I can pin down the lucky goddam
minute.
And it costs spit. All the risk is mine. You interested?

Cause if you are, fine, we set to it, if you

re not, good-bye, there

s others need me.


I need you,

Billy Boy said.

What do I have to do?


Sleep. Sleep and dream. Sleep and dream and leave the rest to me.

Cause while you

re sleeping, you

re not alone.


No?


One of my vision candles will be right alongside you. Nineteen vision candies are what you

ll take away from here. One for nineteen nights. Nineteen is a special number for me. Each candle burns the night and while you sleep, I have my visions. And you come back each day and ask me anything and I

ll tell you what the visions told me. And after nineteen days, if you want to
give
me a diamond bracelet, Fll let you. A fur, Fll let you. You want to come up here in a limousine and sign it over to me, I

ll let you,
because III have earned it.
You will have found the right woman
to make you happy. You will have found the right job to make you rich. And best of all, you will have found a person—me—who will take away all your troubles forever.

She reached down into the table beside her chair and took out a bundle of long candles with strange symbols painted on them.

Nineteen for you,

she said, indicating the candles.

And twenty-nine for me.

Billy Boy reached out for the candles gently, so as not to damage them.


And twenty-nine for me,

the black lady said, holding out her hand now.

I import these fuckers from Tibet. Them

s hand-painted magic symbols on each one. You know what magic paint costs nowadays?


I

m supposed to pay you twenty-nine dollars?

Billy Boy said.

Why not a hundred?



Cause fifty ain

t a special number for me and twenty-nine is.

Billy Boy was starting to get angry now.


Don

t you lookit me like that—I

ll tell you how bad a day this is for you, you look at me like that—-


—you don

t know for sure,

Billy Boy said, but he was up now, backing for the door.

She closed her
e
yes and started shouting:

Today is shit for you —today is worse than shit, today is
pain for yot



Billy Boy ran out into the street, his hands over his ears. He knocked over a couple of people on his way back to Eighth Avenue. It was cold now. It was cold and after three and starting to get dark. And—and—te
still didn

t know!

The third place was differmt
—d
ifferent and better, he could tel
l
that right away. Just off Ninth Avenue, directly behind the bus staticm. There w
e
re no kids hanging around. Just a dog. A gigantic Seeing Eye shepherd. And the lady was white, and old, and pale, and blind.

Is this my lucky day?

Billy Boy said quietly.

The shepherd growled.


Shhhhhh,

the ancient voice whispered.


It

s important,

Billy Boy said.

Ten dollars is my limit and Pm in a hurry.

She gestured for him to Sit alongside her on the tattered couch. Billy Boy did as he was told until the shepherd growled again, louder, and got up—it was a big mother and now the growl was worse and you could see the jagged teeth.

The old woman h
el
d out her hand and instantly the dog quieted.
She made another gesture and it quickly lay down at her feet. Billy Boy sat then, and she reached for his right hand, took it, held it tight, then loose, then tight again. Finally she ran the tips of her fingers over his rough palm.

You have done many bad things in your life,

came the whisper now. She wore thick black glasses and her head was always tilted slightly left.

You have hurt many people with these hands, so why do you deserve luck?


Because I done many good things too.


Not a strong enough reason. But I

ll tell you what is. You deserve luck
because you are special


I only got ten dollars, don

t bullshit me and try for more, there ain

t more.


I can prove you are special. You know things. The future sometimes, don

t deny it. Sometimes the past. You

ve been here before, don

t deny it.


I don

t like to talk about that.


We must. Because I

m special. I sense a great deal. But my dog. My beast. He senses most. Did you hear him growl when you came in? Did you hear him growl louder when you came near? He doesn

t growl, my beast. He is trained to silence. Except when the special ones come near. The ones who can sense things. Who can tell the future and the past.


I said already I don

t like talking about that. People don

t understand. They think you

re crazy.


They think I

m crazy too. I know this is a lucky day for you. Money will come to you today. More money than you hope for. That is in the future and I can tell that. I traveled across the country once in a covered wagon. I was raped and scalped by two Apache braves. That was in the past and I can tell that too. Were you ever in a covered wagon?

Billy Boy hesitated.

No,

he said finally.


But you admit you are special?

Billy Boy hesitated again. He Wanted so to talk about it, but sometimes when you did, they laughed at you.


I won

t laugh,

the blind one said.


I gotta get to a store,

Billy Boy said.


What do I call you?—I don

t want your name, but I have to call you something. You can call me

Duchess.
’”


Were you one once?

The ancient blind face, made a smile.

No. But I always wanted to be.


Billy Boy.

He stood then, headed for the door. .

You can pay me the ten when you come back later.


Hqw
do you know I

m coming back later?

From the giant shepherd now, a deep growl. The blind one reached down, stroked its fur.

We know many things, don

t we, Beast
?”

Again, from far inside the throat, the growl

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