Short stories - 'Strange Magic' The Reading/Trolley Man

Strange magic

The Reading

Danny did not understand fortune-telling but he was fascinated by the woman next door and her amazing ability to read the tea leaves. She always wore a colourful scarf around her head which always clashed so blatantly with her long cotton skirts. His mum, Anita always let her in for a chat and they used to sit at the tiny round kitchen table in hushed talks over a cup of tea made with tea leaves. She was well known as auntie Maggie to everyone in the neighbourhood.

It was just Danny and his mum with the odd boyfriend and he had a reasonably happy childhood. He grew up to be streetwise and got on well with the other children on the estate, even though it was a little rough. He adored his mum; she was always there for Danny. She listened, was kind and had time for him.

One day, when he was thirteen, he was called in the school office and there stood two policemen who offered Danny a ride in their police car, which all sounded very exciting, but he had a terrible feeling of foreboding while sitting in the back as he was gently told that his mum had had a fatal accident.

Over the months there were many rumours about how his mum had died, but once he was placed in a children's home, many miles away from where he knew, he had to get used to his new life and adapt very quickly, as the other kids had no time for new children. He went through his teens very angry and bitter with no answers to how his beloved mother died. It was an incredibly frustrating and a depressing time for him and he thought about taking his own life so he could be with his mother. He loved her so much; he could not imagine the rest of his life without her in it. No other kids would listen to him although thankfully, he received some counselling which helped a little.

When he was sixteen he was offered a tiny one bedroom flat, but he knew he had to go back to his old roots first. He made the 85 mile journey back to the street he was born in and finally found himself knocking at the door of the woman who used to read the tea leaves and after a brief reunion, learnt that many different tenants had moved in and out of his old home. They talked about his mum for hours on end. Maggie got out the old newspaper clippings about what might have happened, but nobody really knew and the case had been left open all these years, but it was suspected that she might have committed suicide. Danny asked Maggie about all the evenings she and mum used to chat over a cup of tea and all the times she used to read mum's tea leaves and Maggie reluctantly told him about the rivalry over two lovers which Maggie was aware of at the time. Anita had so much trouble with an ex boyfriend, Tony, who was highly strung and easily wound up, but he loved Anita deeply. Anita knew she had to move on and found herself a new lover a few months later, but it was hearsay that when Tony had found out about her new lover, that he would kill both of them. When Tony was questioned, he was found innocent. Never was there such a case shrouded in mystery.

Danny asked Maggie if she would read his tea leaves and she laughed nervously saying that she had not read them for ages and had long since been replaced by Tarot cards. Danny was intrigued about a Tarot card reading.

The cards were carefully chosen and slowly laid out in the Celtic Cross position, as Maggie concentrated on the cards and their meanings. It was a little ambiguous, but some of it made a little sense as Maggie explained how the turn up of the Magician, the Pentacles and the Moon represented Danny's past. The uncertainty, the depression and all the unpleasant changes in his life when he was a teenager and the way that Danny had to adapt as he thought about the Children's home and living so far away from all he knew. In the present the Swords and Cups suggesting and urging him to follow his heart and gut instinct and to look to every new window of opportunity. The Queen heeding warning of a middle aged woman and the Pentacles showing good fortune. The letter V being of some significance. The turn up of the High Priestess with his natural ability to learn fast; his flair to absorb new skills and an attribute to listen and observe. The number 7 would denote some meaning in his life and The Lovers with all the difficult decisions that lay ahead. The month of September would be of some influence and Justice for the balance of life and his birth sign of Libra. The pinnacle of all the cards would be the Wheel of Fortune; the slow turning of the wheel of motion in life and the words from Maggie.........'What is good, what is bad, what is neither good nor bad; sooner or later an upward swing of fortune is followed by a fall'. Some wrangles over litigation and some hard earned money coming his way and also some silver!

He was grateful for the reading, but only part of it made some sense, but he was glad to have shared the interest that his mother had and decided from that day, that he would try to leave his past behind, settled into the next nearby town, found a small bedsit and a job. It was a good start, but the money was not that great and he did find himself wondering about the reading and the financial difficulties but quickly brushed it aside as he looked around and thought what he had achieved so far with his guts, hard work and determination and knew he could move on further and do better.

Many months later he found new employment as a courier and the agency was so busy and inundated with work, Danny found himself accepting any overtime with pleasure and enjoyed the freedom of the motorbike around the nearby towns. He managed to start saving, moved out of the bedsit into a bigger studio flat and took on a mortgage. He loved his life the way it was panning out. Two years later, he was offered a partnership in the company and thought his life was complete, until he got to know the new girl who worked in reception. He was so happy, content and in love, although he would never forget about his past and his dear beloved mother.

Danny and Eve fast became an item and he smiled to himself remembering that Maggie had told him the letter V would play a part in his life and wonderful Eve was! They eventually bought a house together at number 17, The Avenue and two years later they both took over the courier company, which flourished and Danny learnt about how to run the company very swiftly.

Danny and Eve enjoyed many exotic holidays abroad and bought flash, expensive cars, but Danny always kept his motorbike to remind him of his humble beginnings.

Life was almost perfect when they married and when their twin boys were born, it was the icing on the cake.

One sunny afternoon, he took a ride on his motorbike into town and felt so proud to come all this way; he thought about his achievements and was so lost in thought, he didn't double check a junction and from nowhere, a car pulled out in front of him and Danny could not remember anything until he woke up in hospital. He had been in a coma for seven weeks and had suffered so many fractures and injuries, it was a miracle he came out of the accident alive. Even had spent many days and long long hours willing him to pull through and get better. She played his favourite music and took tapes of their sons cooing and chatting praying he would pull through until finally that flicker of an eyelid told her, he would be with her again.

The business suffered and Eve had to sack their staff. Their savings started to dwindle fast; there were wrangles over insurance companies. Eve had to sell the house quickly and downsize, the cars sold to new owners. Everything had turned to dust, but the most important thing was Danny was still alive and back with her.

Once out of hospital, Danny started reading about his accident from the local newspapers and discovered that the driver of the Ford fiesta car, Laura Vincent, was arguing at the time with her husband. She was totally to blame and a court case was set for the following month.

In court, as Laura Vincent relayed her story how her husband, the highly strung Tony Vincent had been threatening her and after many weeks, the story went deeper and slowly stated to open up a whole new can of worms, as another old case was opened and anew trial was set; A case full of mystery in which a suicide from nineteen years ago had left Tony Vincent, a prime suspect and an ex boyfriend of Anita Brown. When he found out about her new lover - Margaret Hoskins, had been made a beneficiary from Anita Browns will, his jealousy, disbelief and outrage turned his thoughts to murder. The money should have been left in a trust to her son, Danny, but the money was never mentioned or received by him. The court case was endless, the paperwork, litigation, the struggles went on and on for many months, until finally, through one last shred of evidence was found that proved that Tony Vincent had killed his ex girlfriend. The money that only her trusted friend and lover, Hoskins had known about that was a windfall from the lottery, was also another ex girlfriend of Tony Vincent, but she had since mysteriously disappeared.

The thoughts of the Tarot Card reading came flooding back; the fascination he held for the woman who read the tea leaves next door and the power of the magic she must have used to lure Danny's mother into a lesbian relationship and steal her money that was rightfully his.

When the case finally came to an end seventeen long months alter, on September 27th, Danny and his family received compensation from his accident and in addition, countless newspapers wanted the story and got paid a grand sum for it. Danny finally got the victory and justice he deserved.

Danny and his family would never come to terms with the shock of what really happened when he was a child, nor with his debilitating accident, now he was paralysed from the waist down, but was able to pursue a much better life with the thousands of thousands of pounds he received for his story and his new silver electric wheelchair made life a little bit easier for him.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

28th July 2006

STRANGE MAGIC

Trolley Man

“I heard it again!” shouted one of my colleagues from the local supermarket. It wasn’t just her that heard the strange eerie clanging sound of the shopping trolleys crashing together. Exasperated that the manager found himself doing the very job he never thought he’d have to do, but the vacancy had been open for so long, it was only him available to do the work. Sometimes, after a collection of stranded trolleys were made nearby to the entrance, there was this odd, distant echo that followed. It might have been the cold, dark, night air that made the trolley noise ricochet somehow in the heavy, damp mist. It might have also just been their imagination blown out of proportion. Anything to liven up the evening! So much noise went on in here anyway, it was nigh on impossible to distinguish any kind of different sounds; children ran and shouted through the supermarket store, people would drop items, wheels would squeak, babies would cry, women chatted, tills bleeped and the checkout women always made a conscientious effort to chat to all customers, no matter who they were, even if the customer didn’t want to make small talk. Friendliness oozed out of every pore of an assistant which could be extremely exhausting at the end of a late-night shift. At busy times, it was constant and all this noise would buzz around a tired assistant’s head; it was also very difficult to unwind before retiring to bed.

“The customers have been most thoughtful tonight” commented our supermarket supervisor, “they must have all taken their baskets back to where they picked them up from, near the entrance – very unusual”. The checkout women were too busy to notice and often on autopilot, keeping the customer satisfied - as always.

A few people bonded and friendships blossomed between the busy shifts, but a majority of employees came and went like two-a-penny and so often that it was difficult to remember their names. They never seemed to stay long enough to establish any kind of acquaintance, but now and again a member of staff would stop for a chat, a bit of banter, someone who felt just as bored as you at times – to liven up the evening! Then there was always this thought that the younger employees would never last, especially for the job of collecting trolleys from the vast car park and beyond, that would often spill over to the nearby train station and around the back of the huge shop where it was almost jet black dark of night. It was so demanding for someone so young, but one particular employee I got talking to made the best of it and talked to most of the customers, often giving them the whole ‘shopping experience’ long before they started browsing! He would go beyond chatting; he would make them laugh and ever eager to please, he handed out baskets to people, always ready with a smile with those lovely deep blue puppy dog eyes. His vibrant personality and humour won people over easily; the ‘new boy’ made me laugh and the young girls would turn their heads at the sound of at his deep, velvety voice as they looked back at the tall, slim young teenager with his short blonde gelled hair. He had certainly changed the usual mundane evening into something a little ‘more entertaining’! He was eighteen with the maturity of a twenty-eight-year-old.

I really liked him, in spite of our age difference; somehow he was on my level – in fact, he was on everyone’s level and was so easy going, and I wondered if his girlfriend appreciated him!

He never told me much about himself as he was often too busy making sure all the trolleys had been collected and he ran the basket run constantly up until the end of his shift. He was indeed, a grafter of a part-time supermarket job.

He knew I would always talk to him between serving customers and after playfully throwing bits of screwed up paper at me, he would confide that he really should be working in a more ‘appreciative environment’. Those same eyes looking a little sad and I knew then that perhaps someone with a lesser personality was none too pleased with this happy go lucky lad. I could just imagine some little old lady with her nose in air after all his efforts at cheering her, some pompous old businessman that shouldn’t ‘be seen shopping’ or someone his age insulting him, saying he could do better than just to be a trolley collector. But I never did know why he wore this sad expression. Neither did I know his name as his name badge always looked as if it had seen better days and was very faded.

It was a particularly uneventful night. The booze, pizza, crisps and all the nibbles that were ‘necessary’ had been bought ready for the evening’s entertainment of football and the shop just emptied itself as if right on cue for the evening viewing. After finishing the usual jobs of cleaning the belts, emptying the rubbish bins, put backs and just a general clear up ready for the next day, there was nothing left to do except serve the odd customer. It was getting so boring that I offered to help collect the trolleys outside and joined the young lad walking up and down the car park stealing the odd conversation, a bit of gossip or just generally larking about. It was so cold and difficult to see beyond the first car park as the dark grey freezing fog was so dense, but it still had to be checked for trolleys as the young man-made this his last job of the evening as he disappeared into the thick fog and I was ready to go home to a warm house and a hot cup of chocolate, which always helped me to wind down.

My shift was due again the following evening and in the distance, I heard some of the evening staff “There’s that sound - it happened again!” I was too busy serving to take much notice. I wondered where the new boy was, but he must have been around as the trolleys had been collected and there wasn’t a basket in sight in front of the tills.

Tired and at the end of my shift, I heard some of the staff talking, “It’s about time this vacancy was filled for a trolley and basket collector.” But what happened to the new boy that’s been here for the past three weeks?” I enquired.

And in unison, my colleagues’ said: “What new boy?”

And as the eerie clang of the metal of the trolleys collided together, I realised why I never got to know his name.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

20th October 2007