Neal Pollack

“You did? What did she say? Did she tell you anything about Herman?”

“Herman? ”

Mary fell silent.

“Mary, what have you been doing?”

“I don’t know why he won’t talk to me,” she said.

“Mary, honestly, are you in love with this man?”

“No!” she shouted, loudly enough to make me jump. “No, I am not, ” she whispered. “I just wanted to know if maybe

he could tell me things.”

“You don’t actually believe—”

“A mystic! I know it’s silly but how often do you encounter something like that? I wanted to see if he could tell me about my future, about my father, about falling in love

”

“And?”

“He tells me he has nothing for me. To go away and leave him alone. And I blame the Vzral’s, really, I do. They are hogging him all to themselves and I don’t know why. they'’re selfish. He’'s helped them with their problems and they should just help themselves now.”

“You go over to his house often?”

“I just wanted to get to know him better

I thought that maybe if he knew more about me, he could tell me things. Or even just tell me about his travels, about his old home and his family. His mother was a witch, you know,” she said, so matter-of-factly that I laughed out loud.

“Mary, you’re going to be burned for being a heretic. What’s next, making offerings to the gods?”

But she gazed out the window, eyes narrowing as she saw Mrs. Vzral hurry down the steps of Billik’s house, something in her hand, her breath steaming in the cold April weather. Spring came late in Chicago, and briefly.

“Mary, you are going to come out of town this weekend with Ginny and me,” I said firmly.

“What about father?” she asked dreamily, still looking out the window.

“Ask one of the neighbors to take care of him. Ask my mother. No, you know what? Tell him to take care of himself.”

Mary let us drag her up to Detroit for the weekend. We stayed in a women’s house, went to the theater and even a Tigers game, which was a little frightening but exciting to attend unescorted, although Mary kept wincing every time she heard the crack of the bat. Mary was quiet for the first half of the trip, but on Saturday she brightened and genuinely seemed excited by the city. By the time we returned, she was giddy and chatty, almost like we’d never seen her before.

We returned Sunday night. Monday morning, we heard that Martin Vzral was dead.

Mary was alarmed and unusually remorseful when we told her. It wasn'’t as if she’d been that familiar with Mr. Vzral. So I was surprised when Mary asked me to attend the funeral with her.

You wouldn'’t know that it was a funeral if it weren'’t for the casket. I was surprised by how sparse the ceremony was. The Vzrals did well for themselves, I had thought, yet their clothes looked threadbare, there were no flowers, and the coffin looked as if it were made of plywood. I saw a hint of smugness in Mary’s face as she took in the scene.

“I always thought that family put on airs,” she whispered to me, as we left the parish.

The weather warmed up, and Mary proposed that we take a trip north to Riverview. Everyone was talking about the new amusement park and Ginny and I were surprised by Mary’s proposal. It seemed too frivolous for her, but we attributed it to spring high spirits kicking in. Plus, we were excited to get a look at the new park.

It was a wonderful day, much warmer than usual for May. We ate ice cream and rode around on a giant carousel and screamed down a toboggan ride. Tired, we strolled down the Midway, cheery German music pumping out from one of the tents, when Mary casually asked to stop by one.

Set up under a dark purple tent was Billik, dressed impeccably in a new suit, with the sign reading the old words, “The Great Billik, Card-Reader and Seer.”

“Mary

”

“For goodness sake, He’'s got a tent here at the amusement park,” she said. “He wants people to come see him. He wouldn'’t be out here in the open if there was something wrong, would he?”

“All right,” I said. “Let’s go. I want to get a look at him up close and personal.”

“No,” she said forcefully.

“You don’t want to see him?”

“No, I do

just, not, all together.”

I looked at Billik, who stared straight ahead at the fair, as if he were alone in his home, looking out the window.

“Fine, Mary. But I’m going to see him first.”

She made as if to protest, but then thought better of it. “Good,” she said sweetly. “I hope he has some good news for you.”

I strode up to the booth, but my heart was pounding. I wasn'’t sure why. Billik ignored me until I stood in front of his table and cleared my throat. He looked up and nodded at me to sit down, without saying a word. He began flipping some cards around.

“She bring some friends?” he asked.

“Who?”