Psychic reading leads to more questions than answers

MANSFIELD — Do you ever drive past the house on Park Avenue West with the ‘PSYCHIC’ sign outside and wonder what goes on in there?

Me too, so a couple of days ago I pulled over to check it out.

I had no real preference over a palm or tarot card reading, but I did set myself one rule: I would not go in there with the intent of making jokes or undermining the process. I would approach the experience in earnest and see where it led.

It was about 11:30 a.m. The sign says ‘9:00 AM – 9:00 PM DAILY WALK-INS WELCOME’ so I figured I was OK to turn up unannounced. However, my firm knock on the door brought no response.

I called the number on the sign.

“Yes?” said a woman’s voice.

“I’d like a reading please. I’m outside. Is now a good time?”

“A reading? What kind of reading?”

“Oh – palm or tarot card. I’m easy.”

“OK. What’s your name?”

“Steve.”

Click. The line went dead.

I waited. It was a hot day and it was slightly unnerving to be loitering in someone’s front yard. Was she inside, or on her way from another location? It was unclear.

After about five minutes I gave another knock on the door. Nothing. Five minutes after that I tried the phone again.

“Yes?”

“Hello, I was speaking to you earlier. It’s me, outside on Park Avenue.”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Steve. I’m still outside. Can I come in?”

“Are you here NOW?”

“Yes, I’m standing outside now.”

Finally, there were signs of movement inside and the door was opened to let me in.

Now, I don’t expect miracles. I’m not saying my appearance at the house should have been somehow magically sensed. But it seems a bit much that it took several hammerings on the door and two phone calls to alert a psychic to my presence outside her front door. 

I was shown into a tidy parlor area decorated with many religious artifacts and offered a seat by a low table. There were no ‘fairground’ accessories, no crystal ball, and my host – aside from a slightly unnerving resemblance to my Great Aunt Mimi – did not present herself in a unusual or mystical way.

“What kind of reading would you like?” she asked.

“I’m new at this,” I said, “what have you got?”

“How about a ‘whole life’ reading? Yes? OK. Place $40 in your right hand and make a wish.”

As I did so the deck of tarot cards were spread face down on the table. I placed the two twenties in her open palm.

“Now,” said the psychic, “pick eight cards, any eight cards …”

I handed over the cards and watched closely as they were turned over.

Naturally, the first one was the ‘Death’ card with its grinning skull-man. I wasn’t even surprised. But of course, as even a novice knows, the Death card does not signify imminent death.

“In fact,” said my guide to the unknown, tapping the card, “this shows you will live a long life.”

The remaining cards were upturned and consulted.

“You’ve had bad luck with marriage,” said the psychic. I was about to demur when she added “BUT your marriage now is good. Let’s see … you work hard all the time, but you just can’t seem to make ends meet.”

Again the cards were consulted.

“You are an angry man …” A little unfair, I thought, although I was still mildly irritated at having to wait outside for 10 minutes.

“You are an angry man, and you lose your temper a lot, but it is only because others pass judgement unfairly on you.”

We came to the last of the cards.

“I see two men here. They wish you harm. One is tall, the other short. They do not wish you well. They act as though they like you, but they talk about you behind your back and would bring you bad luck.”

This didn’t sound good. Who were these people? But before I could inquire further, the tables were turned.

“Now you must answer me some questions. Are you from Mansfield?”

“No, not originally. I’m from England.”

“England! What’s that like?”

“Well … it’s sort of like this. Only much smaller.”

She looked at me pityingly and asked ‘What is missing in your life? What is it that isn’t fulfilling you? I feel you are not a happy person.”

There followed some detailed probing about my worries, anxieties, and discomforts. I’m very much a ‘glass-half-full’ kind of person, but I soon began to feel worn down, as if I was having a grueling session on the psychiatrist’s couch.

Fighting a wave of annoyance, I reminded myself that I had come here of my own free will. Given the difficulty I’d experienced getting through the front door, I could hardly claim to have been dragged in off the streets.

“Do you like Mansfield?” she asked.

“Yes, I do, “ I replied. “Will I continue to like it?” I added, indicating the cards.

“Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?” she answered sharply. “You get out what you put in.”

This sudden introduction of common sense threw me a little.

“Can we get back to this business of the men who wish me ill?” I asked. “The tall man and the short one. Who are they exactly?”

She considered. “They have only known you a short time.” That seemed to be all she had, but then she brightened slightly and added “They are from England!”

Reflexively, I gave a dismissive wave of my hand as if to say, well, who cares then? I’m over here now.

She gave me a stern look.

“Bad luck can be sent from a long way away, you know. It can come from the Gods, but there is nothing you can do about that – if God sends us bad luck, then that is our lot and we must live with it. But this is not where your bad luck is coming from.”

This avenue seemed to have come to something of a dead end, and I noticed a slight impatience to get back to the topic of my unhappiness and lack of fulfillment.

“What about your wife? Is she happy?”

“Well, you know, “ I said, “I’m sure she wishes I would do more about the house.”

“Ah,” she said, consulting the cards again, “you are a handyman. You are a man who is good with his hands.”

If there was a ‘PSYCHIC FAIL’ moment, I’m afraid this was it. Displaying psychic abilities of my own, I heard my wife’s laughter erupting just as if she was in the room with me.

“You have problems and you are unhappy, “ continued the clairvoyant, “but I can help you. We can meditate and light candles. It will require a sacrifice of … say, one-to-two-hundred dollars. But the important thing is you have to believe.” 

“Yes. The trouble is though that I don’t believe.” I said. “I don’t believe in the cards,” neglecting to add that I also very much did not believe in handing over a further $100.

“You don’t believe?” she said sadly. “What do you believe?”

“Well, nothing, really,” I admitted.

“You don’t believe in God, in Jesus? Does no-one believe in England?”

“Well, some do, obviously. It’s just not as religious as the U.S. Where do you come from?”

“Romania. It is a VERY religious country.”

A smile broke over her face. “Well,” she continued, “anyway, I think you will come back. You are here in Mansfield. And I wish you the very best of luck!”

We shook hands and I thanked her. I doubt I will go back. But who knows what the future holds?

PSYCHIC, PALM READER & TAROT CARD, 538 Park Avenue West, Mansfield.

Walk-ins welcome. Knock hard.