Fortune

Nathan paused beside the small fortune telling machine near the exit of the boardwalk, and since Gwen's arm was intertwined with his, she paused, too.

They had just spent a good two hours exploring the collection of antiquated arcade games in the pavilion, some from as far back as the nineteen-thirties, an activity in which she had inexplicably agreed to participate, and now regretted. At least, this is what she told him after two hours of watching him drop nearly twenty dollars in coins into the rusting machines.

One would think he had had as much of the old machines as he could stand, but the wild-eyed mannequin in the glass case caught his eye, and he simply had to investigate.

"What is it?" Gwen asked, still holding his arm, though leaning perceptibly toward the gate. She was a painfully thin girl with stringy black hair, and had once soberly confided to Nathan that her mother advised her to keep her romantic expectations low. He might have been offended by this, had not his own mother essentially repeated this advice after he'd burst forth from his teen years without achieving a long anticipated growth spurt.

"An old fortune teller," he said, grinning. He studied the little doll within, satisfied that the machine was indeed antique. The seer sat on crossed legs, its palms facing upward and lying on its knees. It was dressed in satiny purple robes adorned with golden stars, an eastern

caricature from another era. The legend above the glass window read: FORTUNES--FIVE CENTS.

"A nickel to know the future," he said, transfixed by the kitsch of the display. "That's not so much, is it?" She pulled at his arm gently. "Come on, Nate," she said, her heavy eyebrows lowering slightly, "you've already wasted a lot of money on these old machines. Let's get something to eat." Nathan disentangled his arm from hers, "Wait a minute," he said, reaching into his hip pocket. He managed to find five nickels among the dimes and quarters. "We may as well have this little man tell our fortunes before we go. Why not?"

Gwen crossed her arms and frowned at the tiny seer. "I'm tired of this place, Nate. Who cares about some old retread scrap our grandfathers used to play with?" Nathan swore he heard her say, I'm tired of you, Nate, but perhaps that was only what he expected her to say. She often commented negatively, it seemed, on his old- fashioned sensibilities. But he persisted, since those sensibilities also included an obsession or two. "I promise this will be the last machine I waste my money on," he said, forcing a nickel into her palm. "You go first."

Her frown intensified, and she glanced at him with unmistakable irritation, but she stepped forward anyway and dropped the coin into the coin slot below the display. At once the mannequin shook to life, its head tilting from side to side and its eyes flashing with deep-set white lights. "A fortune! A fortune!" a tinny voice echoed from the box, and then the doll fell silent. The machine seemed to grind internally, and a card popped out from a slot on the side.

Gwen pulled the card from the machine and glanced at it briefly before shrugging. "Well, what's it say?" Nathan asked, pulling the card from her fingers to see for himself. It read: YOU WILL SOON FIND HAPPINESS! "Hardly a message from the future," she said, seizing back the card.

The message did seem fairly mundane. Perhaps it was more electrifying seventy or eighty years ago. Undaunted, Nathan dropped another nickel into the coin slot and waited for the mannequin to cease its undulations. "A fortune! A fortune!" the doll repeated, and another card sprung from the machine.

Nathan retrieved the card and read it to himself. Then he read it again. His smile morphed slowly into a genuine grimace. The card read: YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TODAY! He stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the yellowed stock, unable to speak. These old machines don't give fortunes like this, he thought to himself.

"What's the matter?" Gwen asked. "What's it say?" After a moment she pulled the card from his fingers, read it and laughed. "Serves you right for stopping," she said, apparently amused. "I don't get it," he said, genuinely puzzled. "Why would anyone include a fortune this dark? It's offensive." Gwen opened her eyes wide in mock-terror, "Maybe it's true," she said, "I wonder how it's going to happen!"

"You shouldn't joke about it," Nathan sneered, feeling both a little angry and a little afraid. Why would anyone include such a disgusting prediction among the rest?

Was it merely the cryptic tenor of the times, or a flavor of humor lost between the generations? Still, he couldn't imagine any generation in which such a fortune would seem anything but morbid.

"I'm certainly not going to leave this place on that note," he said, dropping another nickel into the machine. The seer gyrated, speaking the now-familiar words, and another card emerged. Nathan pulled the card from the slot and hurriedly read it, hoping for a more cheerful message. It read: YOU REALLY ARE GOING TO DIE TODAY!

He cursed roundly and handed the card to Gwen. She read it too, but this time she didn't laugh. "That's weird," she said, unable to look away from the card. "Twice in a row," she said slowly, almost under her breath.

Nathan moved closer to the machine, peering through the glass. The mannequin sat quiescently, an inanimate doll in purple satin, its face quiet and its eyes dark holes. It was just an old machine, one stocked with peculiar fortunes, he reasoned. Still, he had a disturbing feeling, one that wouldn't let him leave without some measure of satisfaction. He was about to slip another nickel into the machine--he only had two left--then he stepped away from the seer and handed the nickel to Gwen. "You try it again," he said, offering her an insincere grin.

She glanced at the nickel, then at Nathan, and then shook her head. "You just want to see if I get the same card," she said. "I'll bet you hope I do get the same card!" she said accusingly.

"It's just an experiment," Nathan replied, justifying his complete lack of chivalry. "What does it matter? It's just an old machine," he added.

She pressed her lips together and glared at him, then bravely inserted the nickel. The doll gyrated again, made its proclamation, and another card appeared. She hesitated a moment, then pulled the card from the slot and read it as he held his breath; then she handed the card to Nathan. The card read: YOU WILL HAVE A LONG AND HAPPY LIFE!

"Satisfied?" she said, though not pleasantly. "Now can we go?" He wanted to go; he wanted to believe that the order of the cards was completely coincidental. But he did have one nickel left, and he couldn't help himself. His eyes drifted back to the machine. "Don't you dare!" she said as his hand moved toward the coin slot.

Nathan paused, a pained expression on his face. "Come on, Gwen," he said, his worst insecurities blossoming dreadfully in his expression. "How would you feel if you left with the kind of fortune I got?" She inhaled deeply, anger visibly pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I'm just about out of patience," she said. "I'm sorry," he said apologetically, ignoring her icy stare, "but I have to."

Nathan turned to the little mannequin and thought, you'd better tell me something different this time, or I swear, I'll tip you over and take back my money. Then he dropped his last nickel into the coin slot. The little seer's head bobbled, its eyes lit up eerily; it said, "A fortune! A fortune!" before rocking still again. Another card protruded from the slot. Nathan couldn't help it,

but he imagined the tinny voice from the machine seemed different than before, less enthusiastic maybe.

He pulled the card from the machine. The color drained from his face as he stood there, staring at the writing on the yellowed stock, frozen for an uncomfortable amount of time before Gwen pulled it forcibly from his fingers. It read: HOW MANY MORE TIMES DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT NATE!

"I think we'd better go," she said, the card slipping from her fingers. He nodded vacantly, and only started walking when she tugged desperately at his arm. But they didn't walk more than a few feet before Nathan heard a clicking sound, and turned back to look at the fortune telling machine. The glass panel on the front of the machine had swung open, a tiny white hand holding the side of the glass as it moved.

Nathan froze. Not even Gwen's piercing shriek woke him from his daze as he watched the little mannequin push its legs over the edge of the machine and leap to the ground. He heard a hissing sound issue from the little man, and then he realized, even as Gwen's footsteps thundered into a panicked run, that it wasn't a doll at all; it was a disguise.

"A fortune! A fortune!" the little thing hissed as it pulled the seer mask from its face, grinning at him with long, white fangs. By that time, though, Nathan knew his fortune by heart.