The Life She Was Given

“I’ll do no such thing,” John said.

Lilly tensed. Here we go, she thought. My first difficult rube of the day. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But perhaps you misunderstood. Would you like to tell me something about yourself? Maybe that will—”

“I lost my wife and son in a car wreck a year ago. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t know, but I’m very sorry for your loss. It must be extremely hard for you. If you’ll give me a chance, I can try to reach them for you.”

John fixed his watery gaze on her. “It was my fault ’cause I was drinking, and I been trying to tell them sorry ever since.” He cleared his throat. “I been to all sorts of people sayin’ they could talk to my wife and boy, that they could bring them into the room so I could ask their forgiveness. That’s all I want. I just want to say I’m sorry.” His face contorted in misery.

“I understand,” she said. “Why don’t we see if I can help?” She closed her eyes and waited a few seconds before continuing, guilt churning in her stomach. The agony on John’s face burned itself into her memory next to the thousands of other rubes she had tricked into believing she could speak to their loved ones on the other side. “I’m seeing the figure of a young woman. She’s very pretty. I believe her name is Lisa . . . no, that’s not right. It’s Lynette.”

“Stop it,” John said in a hard voice.

Lilly opened her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I said stop it.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Is something wrong? Sometimes it takes a little while to get—”

“Yeah, something’s wrong,” John interrupted. He glared at her. “You’re a fake, just like the rest of them. Mediums, spirit guides, séance holders. Every last one of y’all is a goddamn fake!” He spit the words out like poison.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “But I—”

“I just wanna know one thing. What kinda person takes a hardworking man’s money and lies right to their face about their dead kin?”

She shook her head. “I . . . I don’t know. But if you’ll just . . .”

John shot to his feet and slammed his fists on the table, rattling the candleholders and bell globe. “Don’t lie to me!” he shouted, his chest heaving in and out. “I know this is a setup!”

Lilly got out of her chair and backed away, starting to shake. “Now listen, John. If you’ll just calm down, we can give you your money—”

John stormed over to the wardrobe and yanked on the door handles. When they didn’t open, he smashed his fists through the wood, reached in, and dragged Pierre out by the scruff of his shirt. “Who’s this?” he snarled.

“Let go of me!” Pierre shouted. He tried punching John in the stomach, but his short arms wouldn’t reach. John lifted him in the air and shook him.

“Don’t!” Lilly shouted. “Please! It’s not his fault!”

Just then, the back entrance flew open and Merrick rushed in, threw an arm around John’s broad neck, and tried to wrestle him to the ground. Pierre yanked himself from John’s grasp and scurried out of the way, his face white as a sheet. John pulled away from Merrick, then turned and threw a punch at him. Merrick ducked and John fell forward, landing on his knees. Then he found his footing, stood, and upended the table with one swipe of his arm. The candles toppled over and the glass bell globe shattered on the hard earth. The legless “spirit” baby flopped upside down from its wooden attachment beneath the table, its stuffed arms hanging limp next to its yarn-covered head. Pierre stomped on the candles to put them out, and Merrick threw his arms around John’s shoulders. Nearly twice his size, John tore Merrick off his back, pushed him to the ground, and punched him in the face. Then he got up and tore down the curtains and stars and mirrors. Merrick groaned and rolled over on his side.

“Stop!” Lilly said. “Please, John! Stop!”

John bellowed like a madman and ripped down one of the sidewalls, nearly bringing the entire roof down with it. Then he wrenched down the wall facing the midway, revealing the interior of the tent to the line of waiting rubes. Women gasped and stepped back, and men moved forward to protect them.

John gaped at the crowd, his eyes wild, pieces of canvas and ripped curtains in his hands. “They’re stealing your money!” he yelled. “It’s all fake!”

Mouths dropped open in confusion and shock. Faces contorted in anger. Several men shook their fists and demanded a refund, while others grumbled amongst themselves.

Merrick struggled to his feet and held up his hands. “Now, now,” he said, blood gushing from his nostrils. “Can’t you see this man is intoxicated? And at a family gathering, no less! He doesn’t know what he’s saying!”

“Then why are you asking for names before we go in?” a young woman called out.

“Yeah,” a man yelled. “What’s that for?”

“That’s for a money-back guarantee, just like we told you,” Merrick said. He pointed at Alana, who stood between the tent and the rubes, her notebook clasped to her chest, her slack face the color of ash. “She’s the only one who sees the names until the end of the day. We’re also keeping track of every spirit The Albino Medium contacts because we’re trying to break the world record. And when you fine people read about that in the papers, you’ll know you and your loved ones had a hand in making it happen. Your family will be famous!”

“Hogwash!” a man shouted.

“You’re lying!” someone else yelled.

“Damn right, he’s lyin’!” John shouted. He trudged over to the wardrobe and yanked out the stuffed glove. “See this? This is what that midget touches you with, all the while the albino’s tellin’ you your feelin’ a ghost!” He yanked out the harmonica and bell and tambourine and threw them on the ground. “See? It’s all rigged!”

With that, Merrick lunged at John like a battering ram and shoved him backward into the broken wardrobe. John collapsed in a heap of arms and legs and splintered wood. The rubes closed in to get a better view of the action, gawking and standing on their tiptoes to see over one another’s shoulders and heads. Several men stepped forward, their chins raised, their hands in fists. Lilly moved away from them, her breath coming shallow and fast. She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. She, Merrick, Alana, and Pierre were surrounded. John shook his head, then clambered out of the smashed wardrobe and staggered to his feet.

“You sons a bitches!” one of the rubes shouted. “I want my money back!”

“Me too!” a woman yelled.

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