Michele Forbes - Ghost Moth

Katherine had come back out to the garden with Stephen in tow and had begun to offer tea to the parents and lemonade to the children. She had handed out some cloakroom tickets to those in the small queue that had already formed outside Madam Maureen’s fortune-telling tent, announcing as she did that Madam Maureen was finally ready to receive customers.

And Isabel had arrived, a summery tune of blond and yellow, swinging her hips to her own music. Purple or yellow, purple or yellow? went the melody, all the way up the driveway of Elsa’s house. Yellow or purple, yellow or. . As soon as she had spotted Elsa at the home baking stall, she had made a beeline for her. Yellow or purple?

“They’re lovely,” Elsa had said.

“I suppose so.”

Now, the summer light showers everything. Isabel wanders around the garden, perusing every table, adjusting her hot pants and eating her boiled cake. Elizabeth invites Isabel to play hit the bucket, but Isabel just shakes her blond curls and wanders off. Then Isabel pushes her way in front of the youngest Wilson girl, who is waiting patiently in the queue to have her fortune told by Madam Maureen — even though the Wilson girl has a cloakroom ticket and Isabel doesn’t.

Elsa leaves her home baking stall and wanders over to the back of Madam Maureen’s fortune-telling tent. She wants to see what is happening inside the tent and carefully pulls back one of the sheets. Madam Maureen is hard at work. She rubs her crystal ball. She is looking at Peter Barnsley’s dirty nose. She tells Peter Barnsley that he is going to marry a Chinese woman and that he is going to make it big in the carpet business. She tells Mrs. Hamilton, who is next in line, that she is to make sure that she does the football pools this Saturday, because there are big winnings in store for her, and Mrs. Hamilton laughs a high little laugh, like a bird’s trill, and shakes her head as though she feels sorry for Maureen as she leaves the tent. Maureen then tells Isabel that she is going to become very sick but that a man in a white coat will ask her to marry him. A doctor. He will save her life. And they will travel up the Amazon together and have lots of children and live in the jungle among lions and tigers and collect coconuts and bananas for breakfast. Isabel is, however, unimpressed and leaves without paying. Elsa watches as Isabel bends to exit the tent and sees that Isabel’s gold hot pants are now stuck firmly between the cheeks of her arse. And Maureen tells the youngest and largest of the Wilson girls, who struggles for what seems like an interminably long time to get inside the tent, that she is going to live in America and have a huge house with a freezer and two televisions. The Wilson girl smiles. Now Maureen shakes her head as though she feels sorry for the Wilson girl.

Elsa pulls her head back out of the tent and sees that at the end of the queue Katherine has placed a very compliant Richard Marr. Richard Marr lives right across the street and has straight brown hair that falls over his eyes. Maureen has had a crush on him since the beginning of the summer. She discreetly told only her best friend, Patricia, who, of course, told only her mother, who, of course, told only Katherine. Elsa pokes her head back into the tent and watches; she cannot wait until it’s Richard Marr’s turn to have his fortune told.

Maureen gives a jittery, stupid sort of laugh when Richard Marr ducks his head in under the entrance to the fortune-telling tent. Her cheeks streak crimson as she looks intently into her wondrous ball of the sea as though her thoughts are racing and chasing inside it like a shoal of frenzied sea fish, and she stammers out quickly that Richard Marr will win a competition and get a dog. It’s all over so quickly. Richard Marr leaves the tent as quietly as he entered it. Maureen has a look on her face, as though she wants him to come back in again and then again she doesn’t.

After Richard Marr, it is the turn of one of the Hamilton twins, who nearly knocks the whole fortune-telling tent over as he clambers into it and looks like his mother sent him in. Elsa is almost sure that it’s Keith. Maureen becomes instantly agitated with him and tells him that one day he will go deaf and that he should learn sign language as soon as possible.

“Fuck off, wee doll,” he says leaving the tent abruptly and taking his penny with him.

As Elsa shifts her position, she accidentally stands on the sheet, tugging it a little. Maureen turns her head sharply to see who is there. Elsa quickly darts away from the tent and runs back to her home baking stall before Maureen finds her out. Elsa stands at her stall thinking of Richard Marr and can’t help but feel sorry for Maureen. She watches now as her mother moves over to the fortune-telling tent.

Katherine enters the tent, bending in under the silky pink folds of its entrance and squeezing onto the small wooden toolbox that has been upended and that serves as a seat for each of Madam Maureen’s customers. Katherine is holding Stephen, who is wriggling excitedly in her arms. As Katherine is settling herself and trying to position Stephen comfortably enough on her lap, she registers how Maureen appears taciturn and withdrawn.

The chatter of people outside only serves to enhance the sense of secretiveness and enveloping calm that this enclosure of sheets and scarves has created. Outside, Mrs. Carter, who has just arrived, can be heard talking animatedly to Mrs. Hamilton about her husband’s angina. Some of the children are calling out to one another, laughing and squealing. Isabel can be heard in the midst of the babble, her confident, defiant syllables punctuating the summer air.

Inside the tent, Stephen has become quiet. He is staring cautiously at Maureen and holding on to his mother. Katherine’s head is bowed slightly under the gentle droop of the cotton sheet that forms the roof of the tent, like a billowy inverted cupola. The sunlight is diffused through the sheets and scarves and it now bathes the inside of the tent in a mellow raspberry light.

Stephen breaks the calm by blurting out “Marmar” and pointing at Maureen in sudden recognition and relief. This strange creature in the swathes of green and blue and with the solemn dark eyes is his big sister. He is delighted with himself and arches his back, pointing and laughing at Maureen.

Maureen is annoyed at her mother. Katherine senses this and immediately attempts to tease Maureen out of her somber mood by leaning forward and talking in a deep staccatoed voice.

“Tell-me-my-fortune-Madam-Maureen-please.”

“Stop it, Mummy,” Maureen replies sourly. Stephen flaps his chubby hand up and down in the air. “Marmar,” he calls out, squealing and laughing.

“What-can-you-see-in-your-crystal-ball?” Katherine insists.

“Mummy, p-l-e-a-s-e.” There is definite hurt.

Katherine looks at Maureen. The green curved shadows around Maureen’s eyes and the slit-sharp red of her lips betray the emerging young woman she is becoming. There would have been a time when Katherine would have known exactly how to coax Maureen out of a bad mood. But more recently, within the past few months, those same moods had taken on a certain heat. Katherine would witness Maureen defiantly withdraw from her and realize that, so easily, she had said or done the “wrong” thing. After trying all her usual ploys, Katherine would end up feeling out of her depth and ever so slightly foolish. Maureen now seems to have the capacity to judge her mother and her mother’s methods, and Katherine is painfully aware of the scrutiny.

“Marmar dere.” Stephen begins kissing his palm, then flings out his hand in Maureen’s direction.

“Oh, of course.” Katherine endeavors to lift Maureen’s spirits with mock surprise. “I’ve forgotten to give you a penny.”