The Read, fiction by Preston Lang

It was a party trick. Lila would lay out the Ruffles Barbecue chips with deliberation and speak in a perilous purr, a hypnotic cadence. Her soothsaying came without a hint of parody: an old acquaintance will transform your intellectual outlook; a chance encounter will lead to atypical sensual pleasure.

She first did it at a cookout after Rebecca’s ex-boyfriend boasted that he could eat an entire family-sized bag in under two minutes. When he failed, Lila gathered the remains and began to divine the future in the contours and the grease of a chip. After that, Jordan insisted she do it at her keg parties. Jordan liked to get a half barrel of Coors Light, play music from when they were in school, and pretend to be nineteen.

At university Lila had been odd and solitary. People found her witchy because she wore loose-fitting, black tops and made herbal tea in the common room microwave. She didn’t like parties or Katy Perry. Instead she listened to Stravinsky on headphones when she walked alone through the snow to the dining hall. One Saturday night in the second semester of their first year, Jordan asked if she wanted to hang out.

“Uh, okay.”

Lila wasn’t quite sure what hanging out entailed, but Jordan just wanted to drink hot chocolate and talk about strange dreams she’d been having.

“But no one ever wants to hear about your dreams,” Jordan said.

“Unless they’re in them.”

Jordan laughed.

“Yeah, when they find out they’re in it, they want every detail—what was I wearing; what did I say; did we make out?”

“Have I ever been in your dreams?”

“No.”

Jordan confessed that she was only in on a Saturday night because she was on antibiotics and couldn’t drink, but she was genuinely glad for the chance to get to know someone new.

“A lot of people think you’re a witch,” she told Lila.

“I know.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“But maybe you can tell me what my dreams mean?”

“Because I’m sort of like a witch?”

Jordan laughed again, and Lila interpreted dreams about ballet slippers, kittens, and Avril Lavigne. The next day Jordan told everyone that Lila was very nice and very funny. After that she entered Jordan’s orbit, sometimes eating with the larger group and even going out to parties once and a while. A decade later, many of them had moved to Toronto, and Lila remained a part of the crowd—an inessential member, but Jordan always made an effort to include her. As an oracle, though, Lila’s value as a party guest increased. She always downplayed her powers, but her predictions were never completely wrong, and she’d hit it on the nose with Rebecca when she’d said a favorite childhood toy (I’m seeing brown? Fur? A bear?) would hold the key to future happiness.

When Rebecca went home for Christmas, she found Teddy with all the junk that had belonged to her brother who OD’d seven years earlier. The bear was nestled in among action figures, comic books, and a sheet of mint-condition Pokémon cards that went for 87,000 dollars—enough for her to quit her job and do web design fulltime.

When everyone was back in town after the holiday, Jordan had a smaller, more sophisticated party at her apartment. It snowed hard enough to cancel an opera that night, but all the invitees arrived, frosted and white-headed. Lila knew everyone except Karl, a friend of Rebecca’s fiancé. He was tall with restless, black eyes.

“Read him, Lila.”

Jordan eased her into the seat across from the open bag of Ruffles. It took a while to explain the situation to Karl.

“So she crushes some chips and talks to ghosts?”

“Just sit down.”

“And they have to be barbecue flavor?”

Jordan settled him into a chair, and Lila had a moment of apprehension when he smirked, but as she arranged the chips in a diamond formation, she gained confidence.

“I see a man, an older man. Someone you didn’t always get along with.”

He lost the smirk.

“Your father.” She paused for just a moment, and from the slight dilation of his pupils, she saw that she’d hit something here. “You didn’t always agree, but he does want you to—"

“I’m sorry—are you telling my future here?”

“It’s the other side that guides the prophesy.”

She looked at the table and pressed down on one perfect chip. The tension was clear in the muscles of her hand, but the chip maintained its integrity much longer than seemed possible—ten seconds, twenty seconds. Finally it snapped, and the crowd reacted with nervous laughter. A tiny act of violence foretold ugly revelations. Lila carefully examined each half.

“There’s an opportunity for advancement at work. In order to achieve, however, you are going to have to display humility. Not just at work.”

“Humility?”

“If you are not careful, you are going to underestimate someone.”

“My father wants me to show humility?”

“In passing, he has learned obvious truths about himself.”

“Okay. Sure. Please tell me more.”

“A woman in a dark coat …”

Lila inhaled sharply. She felt a jump in the crowd now rapt by every move she made.

“What, what about her?” Karl asked.

Lila held up her left hand and kept her eyes on the table. She could tell he didn’t like this contemptuous gesture. It felt backwards to him: a weird, chubby girl shouldn’t exert this kind of control over a man like him. Lila was getting good at showmanship. Her voice was deep and sinuous, and she could see some people rocking gently to the rhythm of her words.

“I see in your past—a dangerous woman. You want to forget her, because in her is a power. In her is an undying energy. The woman in the dark coat will have access to the same energy.”

“Who is she?”

“I see the coat. Her face in profile. I see the missing button. A crow flies behind her in an open field.”

“Who is she?”

“You will know her not by name or by face. You will know her by the inevitability of her power over you.”

“What is she going to do?”

For the first time, Lila fell into verse.

“To that land where fields lie fallow

To that ending undenied

To that fortune, still unfathomed

In thy purpose be—"

“Yeah, okay. Terrific.”

Karl got up and walked away. Lila heard him angrily snap open a can of beer in the kitchen. She blinked rapidly, coming out of her trance.

“Are you all right?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“That was intense,” Jordan said.

She massaged Lila from behind with the pride of a child holding a prized possession. Lila didn’t like that. Even more, she didn’t like the way she’d been performing. It was fake and mean-spirited, but there was something seductive in wielding that kind of power.

Jordan’s bathroom had fancy little soaps and a framed quote from William Butler Yeats that Lila got tired of halfway through. When she came out, Karl stood in the hall. She assumed he was waiting to use the bathroom, and she hugged the wall to squeeze past, but he blocked her way.

“You shouldn’t do this,” he said.

She looked back at the bathroom.

“What shouldn’t I do?”

“Out there—at the table. You shouldn’t do that.”

“It’s not real. You do understand that I can’t actually see the future … in a bag of Ruffles potato chips.”

“But you shouldn’t do this to people.”

“I’m sorry it upset you.”

“It didn’t upset me. But what you’re doing is very bad.”

“It’s just for fun. No one believes it. Do you believe it?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I really don’t see what the problem is.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“Look, I don’t see visions. I don’t hear voices from the dead. There’s no woman in a dark coat.”

He stared hard and angry for a moment.

“What I really want to know is where you get the arrogance to think you can do this to people?”

“If I upset you, I’m sorry. I really am, but—”

“You didn’t upset me.”

He didn’t yell, but there was force in the quiet of his voice, and he put his hand on the wall, chest level for Lila. She wanted to walk away, but she’d have to duck under his arm to do that.

“I’m sorry if I did anything that you believe is wrong.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes. But considering that we both know it’s fake, and you’re definitely not upset, how about we put this behind us?”

He lifted his arm and brushed the hair out of his face, and she made for the living room, but as she passed, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

“You can’t play with people this way. You understand me?”

She didn’t answer, and he shook her one more time then shoved her down the hall, towards a party full of friends having fun. He went on to the bathroom. Lila went straight to the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. She bolted it down then tried to smile as she approached Jordan.

“I think I have to take off.”

“It’s early.”

Jordan caressed her arms, starting at the shoulders and working down to the elbows.

“I know,” Lila said. “But I’ve got this Zoom meeting tomorrow morning, and I—”

“Yeah, yeah. Leave me alone with all the dull people.”

Lila had always felt comfortable underground, but now on the subway, everyone was a threat. She stood with her back to the wall as the train pulled in, so no one would be tempted to push her onto the tracks. Then on the moving train, everyone was menacing: the muscular dude gripping his bike; the teenagers talking loud about anime; the stoned woman mumbling into her lap; the cop who boarded at Dupont and kept his arms folded across his chest for two stops.

When Lila got home, she made cinnamon tea with cacao nibs and sat by the window, watching the swirl and false purity of white flakes. Through an especially brutal winter, she begged off social all occasions. But Jordan grew insistent—teasing then a little angry.

Where’ve you been, girl?

Return a text. Please!

Lila, why do you hate me?

March fourteenth was Lila’s birthday, and Jordan nailed her down.

“I’m taking you out for dinner. No argument.”

A quick bite at a Mexican place downtown. Lila would be home before nine. When she got there, Jordan was full of gossip. Rebecca had broken up with her fiancé. Asha had left her job. Karl seemed to have wedged his way into the group.

“Karl is so—intriguing, I think,” Jordan said. “He’s like a really individualistic person.”

“Sure.”

“He has a kind of power to him. You ever notice his eyes? They’re like ants—dark and darting around.”

“Oh, sure.”

“And he’s dating Rene now.”

“Who’s Rene?”

“That’s right. You’ve never met her. You’ll love her. She’s so sweet.”

“And she’s dating Karl?”

“But it’s a secret. I mean, it’s kind of a secret. I know, but it’s not supposed to be out there.”

It sounded complicated and boring, and there was no reason for Lila to dig deeper. Jordan ordered margaritas, and Lila did her best to make it at least halfway to the bottom. Then something caught Jordan’s eye and she looked away from it quickly. When Lila turned and saw Rebecca trying to hide near the ladies’ room, she figured it out.

“Surprise,” Jordan said.

“How many people are coming?”

“A lot. Come on, it’s your birthday.”

During daylight hours, the place felt like a family restaurant. After the sun set, it was a bar, and it quickly filled with loud, young people—strangers and friends getting smashed. Lila smiled and took her hugs. A little after ten, she tried to head out, but Jordan and Rebecca held her down.

“You’re the friggin’ birthday girl.”

Someone had gone out, bought a bag of chips, and set them in front of Lila in her corner booth. For a while, she talked to a guy who wasn’t even there for her party. He was an urban planner, and he thought it was hilarious when she explained that her friends wanted her to open the bag and become paranormal. He was very sweet, but when he asked her out, she said no.

Soon after, Karl entered the bar next to a slender woman in a black jacket. They came straight to Lila’s table. Karl introduced Rene as a coworker and smiled at Lila almost like they were friends.

“It’s Lila’s birthday,” he said.

Karl went to the bar, and Lila and Rene spoke about moisturizer and a space movie that they both wanted to see. Jordan came over to give Rene a huge hug then tore open the bag.

“One reading,” she said to Lila. “Please.”

A small crowd started to form, and Lila excused herself to use the bathroom. She could’ve climbed out the window and made a run for it. Instead, she found a Wi-Fi connection and looked up Rene. With a first name and place of work, it was easy to find her all over social media.

When Lila got back to the table, Jordan handed her the bag.

“Just one reading,” she said. “That’s all we’re asking.”

“No, I really don’t—”

“It’s so amazing,” Jordan said to Rene. “She goes into a trance and everything.”

Lila pointed to the bag of chips.

“I’m not sure we’re allowed to have outside food in here—”

“Oh, come on. One quick reading. It’ll be cool to see you do it on someone you don’t know.”

“If she doesn’t want to do it, she really shouldn’t have to do it,” Karl said staring at Lila.

“You’re such a spoilsport,” Jordan told him. “Come on, girl. It doesn’t have to be long.”

Jordan gently shook a few chips onto the table. Lila hadn’t taken her eyes off Karl.

“Okay, I’ll do one,” she said then turned to face Rene. “Put your hands over the chips for a moment.”

Rene did as instructed. Lila could tell she was just a little bit of a skeptic, but that type was often the best target. Lila spread the chips apart carefully.

“There is a grandmother. She is no longer with us. No, I’m sorry. She is an aunt, but she is like a grandmother. You were close to her.”

“Which aunt?”

“There’s only one.”

Rene gave the smallest nod.

“I’m seeing the letter M.”

“Yes.”

“You used to bake together.”

“Everyone baked with grandma,” Karl said.

“Karl, don’t be a dick,” Jordan said.

“She needs to warn you about something. There is a man in your life. He has attacked women. He will do it again.”

“A man in my life?”

“Someone new but important. Like a boyfriend, but somehow that’s not it exactly. She’s confused by the relationship. He’s violent. I can see him.”

Lila’s voice lost its casual tone, and the trance deepened.

“I see his teeth. He’s grinding his teeth. He’s shaking a woman, throwing her against a wall. Your aunt also dealt with the violence of weak, self-important men—”

“How do you know this?”

“A soul without empathy

Mistrust.

Rising fear

An ending.”

Lila closed her eyes. When she opened them, her breath was shallow and her hands shook.

“She’s scared. She’s scared for you, Rene. Your Aunt Miriam is—"

“Stop it! Now,” Karl said.

Lila saw the violence rise into his body. If she’d been closer to him, he would’ve struck her. But he shook it off, leaned back in his chair, and laughed.

“She’s playing you,” he said to Rene. “Remember when she went to the bathroom? She looked you up on Facebook. Did you put anything about your aunt up there?”

“On the anniversary of her death, I wrote a post about her, about all she meant to me.” Rene turned on Lila. “This is a game?”

“Nothing I’m saying is a lie,” Lila said.

“She gets off on this.” Karl made an ugly, little gesture at Lila. “It’s sick is what it is.”

Rene shook her head slowly.

“Aunt Miriam was more of a mother to me than my actual mother. When I wrote about all she went through, that was very painful. You looked that up just for a little—show? A trick?”

“He’s going to hurt you,” Lila said.

Rene grabbed a handful of chips off the table, crushed them in her fist, and threw them into Lila’s face.

“Okay, guys. Let’s all take it easy,” Jordan said, but she looked at Lila with disgust.

It was a cold night, and Lila walked all the way home. No one followed her; no one called or texted. At her place, she boiled water for tea then hung up her jacket and looked in the mirror. A chip was stuck in her hair. When she took it out and placed it on the counter, she saw a vision. For the first time in her life, she saw the future. In the speckled orange of a ridge, a series of vivid tableaus appeared: the eyes full of malice, the blow, the bludgeoned body lying in the street, the full moon overhead. She saw the murderer flee, and then the apprehension just short of the border. She saw the trial, conviction, and subsequent death of the murderer by improvised dagger in a prison hallway. She’d been given this vision and the chance to change fate.

Officer Graves was a solid, middle-aged man. He listened as Lila described how Karl had grabbed her and shoved her—a clear case of assault.

“This occurred two months ago?”

“That’s right.”

“You have no witnesses, and there were no visible effects of the attack?”

“He’s going to kill someone.”

“Did you tell anyone at the time of the assault?”

“I’m telling you now.”

The officer’s eyes were soft and tired.

“My advice to you is to stay away from this guy.”

The modern witch is a useless creature. Her brews are weak and no one believes her visions.

Lila waited until the weather was warm enough then staked out Karl’s apartment. Rene stayed over Fridays and Saturdays, but on weekdays, he was alone. Some nights, he’d walk two blocks through a quiet alley to get smokes. He was probably trying to quit, but he wasn’t quite strong enough. On a Wednesday night in May, he bought a pack of Player’s then headed home. Lila waited in the alley and blocked his way.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“It’s a stupid game. You’re right about that. I’m sorry”

When he looked her in the eyes he saw the truth, but he couldn’t see the future.

“It’s not a game,” he said. “You are a witch.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“You should be burned. All of you.”

“You can’t do that anymore.”

“You really came to apologize?”

“And to show you something.”

Lila pointed to the left at a ladder extending down from a fire escape. When he looked that way, she reached right and grabbed the thin metal pipe she’d leaned against the opposite wall. When she hit him in the head, he fell to his knees. He raised his hands to protect his face, and she got him in the neck. Then the head again. And again. And again.

The pulpy mess was exactly what she’d seen in her vision. But when she looked up, the moon wasn’t full. It was a slender crescent—sharp and dangerous in the starless night. She didn’t run for the border. Instead she went home and put up the kettle for tea. She’d never believed in sorcery.

Preston Lang is an honest, Ontario-based writer. His short fiction has
appeared in Thuglit, Grain, and Ellery Queen.