require them to cover the cost of immunizing and neutering them. Trump’s already been neutered. You could adopt him for twenty-five dollars. Are you looking for a dog, Stevie?”
“Just curious,” Stevie said.
“Good luck with your fortunes,” Judy called as they returned to their spot under the tree.
* * *
T HE TENT TOOK only a few minutes to set up. “It’s idiot-proof,” Stevie said. “The only kind of tent my brother Chad could handle.”
They covered their large cardboard box with a bright gauzy scarf to use as a table, and covered a smaller wooden box with a pink table-runner to use as a chair. Lisa hung a heavy patterned tablecloth behind the chair to make a screen, and Carole hung another similar cloth over the tent’s door.
“This makes a better entrance,” she explained. “It’s much more mystical.”
Meanwhile Stevie was hanging glittering cardboard stars and moons on the outside of the tent. Lisa and Carole unpacked the crystal ball, tea leaves, astrological charts, and playing cards. Finally, all three of them hung a large cardboard horseshoe above the entrance, and put up a sign reading GOODLUCK HORSESHOE FORTUNE - TELLING BOOTH . YOUR FUTURE REVEALED TO YOU . $ 1.00. Underneath that Lisa hung a smaller sign reading PROCEEDS TO BENEFIT CARL .
Lisa, Carole, and Stevie stepped back to admire their booth. It was perfect. Lisa smiled at her friends. “We’re in business!” she said.
I NSIDE THE TENT , Stevie dressed in the fortune-teller’s flowing robe—actually Lisa’s mother’s second-best bathrobe—earrings, and purple scarf. “Do you really think this is going to work?” Lisa asked her.
“Of course it is,” Stevie assured her. “We’re the ones who know the future!”
“I know what you mean,” Lisa said. “But this is a little weird.”
“Lisa. You’ve got to have faith. By the end of the day”—Stevie waved her hand mysteriously—“everyone’s problems will be solved!”
Since Stevie was taking the first stint as fortune-teller,Carole and Lisa began walking through the fairgrounds, drumming up business for the booth. “Fortunes read!” they cried. “Get your fortunes read! Learn the secrets of your future! Visit the Goodluck Horseshoe fortune-telling booth! Only one dollar!”
Stevie didn’t have long to wait before the first visitor ducked his head to enter the tent. It was Colonel Hanson.
“Hello, stranger,” Stevie said in her most mysterious tones.
“Hello, Madame. Here’s your dollar.” Colonel Hanson sat down on the box on the other side of the table. “Let me have your best shot.”
Stevie spread her deck of playing cards out in front of her. “Hmmm, a black seven and a queen of diamonds,” she murmured. “And here’s the three of spades.” She looked up. “The cards tell me you love old movies,” she said.
“Amazing,” said Colonel Hanson. “You can tell that from those cards?”
“Particularly old movies about the Marines.”
Colonel Hanson slapped his forehead. “You don’t say!”
“Certainly!”
“Amazing—your prowess is incredible.”
“Wait,” said Stevie, “there’s more—I’m getting something—very strong signals—” She cupped both hands around her father’s paperweight. “Yes. I can see that you have a finely developed sense of humor. And excellent taste in old jokes.”
“Finely developed or not, Madame Fortune-Teller, you’re going to have to do better than this for the buck I just paid you. Tell me something about my future.”
Stevie stared at the paperweight for a long time. She couldn’t very well make up a future for Carole’s father. Finally she knew what to say. “You’re going to be very proud of your daughter,” she predicted.
Colonel Hanson laughed, but seemed to appreciate his fortune. “I’d say that will certainly be true,” he said. “I’m already proud of her. Okay, Madame Fortune, you’ve earned your dollar.” He rose to go, but paused at the tent’s door.
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