The Funhouse

any more of it, she wished she'd stood up to Liz and refused.
        “I'll have to ask you some questions… about yourself… and your family,” Madame Zena said haltingly, without any of the theatrical pizazz that she had shown while plying Liz with her spiel. “It is just as I told your friend here… I need the information in order to focus my psychic perceptions.” She sounded as if she wanted to jump up and run out of the tent every bit as much as Amy did.
        “Go ahead,” Amy whispered. “I don't want to know… but I've got to.”
        “Hey, what's going on here?” Richie asked, picking up on the new, evil vibrations that now filled the tent.
        Still blissfully unaware of the sudden seriousness in the fortune-teller's demeanor, Liz said, “Ssshh, Richie! Don't spoil the show.”
        To Amy, Madame Zena said, “Your name?”
        “Amy Harper.”
        “Your age?”
        “Seventeen.”
        “Where do you live?”
        “Here in Royal City.”
        “Do you have any sisters?”
        “No.”
        “Brothers?”
        “One.”
        “His name?”
        “Joey Harper.”
        “His age?”
        “Ten.”
        “Is your mother alive?”
        “Yes.”
        “What is her age?”
        “Forty-five, I think.”
        Madame Zena blinked, licked her lips.
        What color hair does your mother have?”
        “Dark brown, almost black, like mine.”
        “What color are her eyes?”
        “Very dark, like mine.”
        “What is…” Madame Zena cleared her throat.
        The raven flapped its wings.
        Finally Madame Zena spoke again. “What is your mother's name?”
        “Ellen Harper.”
        The name clearly jolted the fortune-teller. Fine beads of sweat broke out along her hairline.
        “Do you know your mother's maiden name?”
        “Giavenetto,” Amy said.
        Madame Zena's face became even whiter, and she began to tremble visibly.
        What the hell…?” Richie said, perceiving the very real fear in the phony Gypsy, baffled by it.
        “Ssshh!” Liz said.
        “What a bunch of crap,” Buzz said.
        Madame Zena was obviously reluctant to look into the crystal ball, but at last she forced her eyes to it. She blinked and gasped and cried out. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. She swept the glass sphere off the table, it crashed to the earthen floor, but it was too heavy to break that easily. “You've got to get out of here,” she said urgently. “You've got to go. Get away from the carnival. Go home and lock your doors and stay there until the carnival leaves town.”
        Liz and Amy stood up, and Liz said, “What's all the malarkey? We were supposed to get our fortunes told for free. You haven't told us how we're going to be rich and famous.”
        From the other side of the table, Madame Zena stared at them with wide, frightened eyes. “Listen to me. I'm a fake. A phony. I don't have any psychic ability. I just con the marks. I've never seen into the future. I've never seen anything in that crystal ball except the light from the flashlight bulb in the wooden base. But tonight… just a minute ago… my God, I did see something. I don't understand it. I don't want to understand it. My God, Jesus, Jesus Christ, who would want to be able to see the future? That would be a curse, not a gift. But I saw. You've got to leave the carnival now, right away. Don't stop for anything. Don't look back.”
        They stared at her, amazed by her outburst.
        Madame Zena swayed, and her legs seemed to turn to mush, and she collapsed into her chair again. “Go, damn you! Get the hell out of here before it's too late! Go, you goddamned fools! Hurry!”
        Out on the midway, standing in a pool of flashing lights, with people streaming past, with waves of calliope music breaking over them, they looked at each other, waiting for someone to say something.
        Richie spoke first. “What was that all about?”
        “She's nuts,” Buzz said.
        “I don't think so,” Amy said.
        “A real looney-tune,” Buzz insisted.
        “Hey, don't you guys understand what happened?” Liz asked. She laughed happily and clapped her hands with delight.
        “If you've got an explanation, tell us,” Amy said, still chilled to the bone by the look that had come over Madame Zena's face when she had peered into the crystal ball.
        “It's a