The Nightmare Game

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Authors: S. Suzanne Martin
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disappointed. I guess
maybe she wasn’t going to be that much help after all. “It has been mine. I’ve been
dealing with it for a couple of months now. Everybody I know is doing better
than I am right now. They’re all getting pretty sick of me these days and they
all keep telling me to snap out of it.”
    “They’re wrong. This ain’t been ya personal
unhappiness ya been dealin’ with, it belongs to someone else.” She turned over
another card. “Ya got a man in ya life that’s got real misery. He been in great
sorrow for a long, long time.” She checked out my left hand and finding no
wedding ring, continued, “It mus’ be ya boyfriend for the bond here is very
strong.”
    I let out a hollow laugh. “I don’t have a
boyfriend. Haven’t had one in years, I’m afraid the cards are wrong.”
    She looked up at me and knitted her brows
together, “No, no they’re not. They’re never wrong for me.”
    “Could it be a friend?” I offered. “Or maybe
something’s wrong with my brother-in-law?”
     “No. No friend, no relative. Ya have a man in ya
life, it’s a love bond and a strong one. He’s in great trouble, trouble that’s
been around a long time.”
    “Could it be someone I haven’t met yet?”
    “No, ya know this man now.”
    The blank look on my face convinced her I had no
idea what she was talking about. She looked confused herself as she turned over
another card. “This is a bit confusin’. He’s younger than ya are, but yet he’s
older than ya are. Does that make any sense to ya?” I shook my head no. “Well,
anyway, he’s a very handsome man, very handsome.” My stare was still blank when
she looked up at me for confirmation. She turned over the next card, “I’m seein’
a journey in ya life.”
    “I guess I did journey here. I’m a tourist, but
that’s not unusual in the French Quarter.”
    “Ya not a tourist, ya only think ya are. Ya on a
journey, a great journey. There’s somethin’ ya need to do, to accomplish, but
it’s not here in the city. Ya journey, it begins here, but it’s not here.”
Turning over another card, she continued, “It’s connected with ya young man. He
needs ya to help him.”
    A man in my life, a journey connected with him,
was I thinking too literally? She couldn’t possibly talking about the man of my
dreams, the man in the portrait, could she? It didn’t occur to me because
despite the portrait, despite my intense longings for him, he was only a dream
lover, a fantasy. It couldn’t be the same guy anyway, since the portrait I saw
looked really old and the man in it must be long dead by now. Was he a ghost?
That couldn’t be. Ghosts didn’t exist.
    “Ya stayin’ with friends here, some very
interestin’ people I see. Important friends.”
    “Actually, my friend couldn’t come, so I’m here
alone.”
    Again, she looked at me with complete disbelief.
“Ya here alone?” she echoed me.
    “Yes, in an apartment I’m renting. But I’m kind of
scared to stay there now, especially by myself. I was thinking about moving to
a hotel or maybe even just leaving altogether and going home, but these people,
these two weird people, a woman and a man, keep warning me to stay put, that
I’ll die if I don’t.” I was giving her too much information, I knew, but I
couldn’t help myself. It just spilled out. “They’re the ones that are scaring
me and then there’s this other woman at the real estate company that freaked me
out this afternoon and these people told me that she, or at least I think it
was she, tried to kill me. And the man and woman just keep disappearing into
thin air. Do you think they could they be ghosts? I mean is this why I’m really
here? I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared and I
don’t know what to do.”
    After I got through blurting all this out, I
realized how bizarre and ridiculous it sounded out loud. She looked at me
closely, studying me intently, probably thinking I was

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