Read Herculeah Jones Tarot Says Beware Online
Authors: Betsy Byars
Herculeah Jones Tarot Says Beware (6 page)
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In the old warehouse itself were permanent boothsâconcession stands, furniture and antique stalls, a puppet show, and a video-game arcade.
Herculeah looked at Meat. “You're uneasy, too.”
“I am not.”
“I can always tell.”
“How?”
“You go like this.” Herculeah narrowed her eyes and glanced suspiciously from side to side.
“I do not.”
Herculeah smiled. “You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to buy myself a good-luck charm.”
“An amulet,” Meat suggested. “I get that in cross-word puzzles sometimes. That's what you want. It means an old charm.”
“Good-luck charms have to be old. They have to have worked at one time or another.”
“I think amulets hang around your neck.”
“Then that's exactly what I want.”
“Everything's half-price,” a woman in a straw hat told them, stretching her arms out over a table of socks and underwear.
Herculeah shook her head. “We're looking for something special.”
She paused to check out an assortment of beads and bracelets spread out on a blanket. “You see anything you like?” the lady asked.
“I'm looking for something old. An amulet.”
“An amu-what?” the lady said.
“Never mind.”
“The real old stuff's inside the warehouse,” Meat said.
They went through the wide doors and were immediately approached by a man in Levi's.
“Help you?” he asked.
“I'm looking for old jewelry.”
“I got earrings, nose rings, hand rings, toe rings, bracelets, necklaces, ankletsâyou name it, I got it.”
“Where are the necklaces?”
“Right back here.”
The necklaces were hanging from an old towel rack, and Herculeah looked through them slowly. “Would you call that an amulet?” she asked Meat, showing him a crystal attached to a chain.
“Noâwell, maybe. I don't know. I never actually saw one of the things before.”
She closed her hand around it. “I don't get a feeling that it's lucky.”
Again, she let her hands roam over the necklaces. She closed her eyes, then said, “Now that feels lucky. What do you think, Meat?”
She showed him a chain with an acorn-shaped pendant suspended from it.
“Well, it looks old, anyway.”
Herculeah turned to the man. “Can I try this silver one on?”
He unlocked the rack and Herculeah slipped the necklace over her head. “I wonder if there's anything inside,” she asked, fingering the necklace. “It looks like the top comes off. Does it?”
“It's probably something real valuable in there, missy.”
“I bet,” Herculeah said.
“I didn't want to pry the top off,” the vendor explained. “It's too valuable a piece to ruin.”
“How valuable?”
“I'd have to have five dollars for thatââcause you're not just getting a chain and a silver antique acorn thing. You're also getting whatever's inside.”
“I'll give you three.”
“Three dollars! Missy, the chain alone's worth three dollars.” He gave her a pained expression. “Four,” he said.
“Three-fifty.”
More pain. He shook his head. “Missy, you drive a hard bargain. It's a deal.”
Herculeah smiledâher first real smile of the day. She turned to Meat. “Lend me three-fifty,” she said.
“You don't have any money?”
“Not with me.”
Meat sighed and pulled out some money. “If there's anything valuable in there, I get half of it,” he said.
“I promise, but it doesn't want to openâI tried to force it when the man wasn't looking.”
“You better leave it alone. The good luck might get out,” Meat said.
They walked away with Herculeah smiling down at her amulet. She glanced at Meat.
“I want a Sno-Kone. Do you?”
“I don't suppose you have any money for those either.”
“No.”
He sighed. “Oh, come on.”
, They walked to the Sno-Kone stand, and a woman in a baseball cap said, “What flavor?”
“Rainbow,” said Herculeah.
“Same,” said Meat.
They took their cones and began walking again. Herculeah's cone had already begun to drip, but -she didn't care. She felt good.
“It's amazing what a Sno-Kone and an amulet can do for you,” she said, grinning at Meat. “Maybe you ought to get one.”
They started back down the aisle. As they passed the booth where Herculeah had bought the amulet, Meat paused. “I want to ask this guy something.”
“I'll be over here,” Herculeah answered, nodding to a booth that sold used books.
Meat approached the man. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“There used to be a woman, a fortune-teller, who handed out flyers here.”
“Yeah, Madame Rosa. She had a booth down across from the puppet theater. She stopped coming here, though.”
“Do you know why?”
The man shook his head. “She came flying out of here a few Saturdays ago like the devil himself was after her. I stopped her. I said, âLady, you need some help?' The woman was as white as if she'd seen a ghost. She muttered something about a knife. I said, âSomebody pulled a knife on you? You want me to call security?'
“She looked at me. I'll never forget that look as long as I live. I asked again, âDid somebody pull a knife on you?' And she answeredâand I'll never forget this, eitherââNo, but they will.”'
12
KILLER PUPPETS
“Puppets!” Herculeah lifted her head. She said, “I hear puppets.”
Over the loudspeaker an artificially high voice was chirping, “It's time for us to go on.”
“It is not. It's five minutes before we go on.”
“Frankie said it's time for us to go on riiiight now.”
“What does Frankie know?”
“Frankie knows more than we do.”
“Huh! He wouldn't be anything without us.”
“Well, we wouldn't be much without him.”
“Huh.”
“Well, anyway, it's time for us to go on.”
“It is notâhey, you're right. It is time for us to go on. Everybody on stage. It's time for us to go on.”
Herculeah said, “Come on. I feel like watching puppets.”
“I hate puppets,” Meat said.
“You can't hate puppets, Meat. They're toys.”
“I hate puppets. I hate mimes. I hate clowns. I have a real reason for hating puppets, though,” he said as he reluctantly followed Herculeah toward the show.
“What's that?”
“There was this girl in my kindergarten class and she wore mittens that were like puppets. One was a dog and one was a cat. And she'd come up to me and say in a high voice, âYou better pet us or we'll bite you,' and I'd reach out to pet the stupid things and before I could, they'd bite me. And it hurt. And she only did it to me. She'd let everybody else pet them. I was the only one they bit.”
“Oh, Meat, mittens can't hurt.”
“These could. They had teethâlittle pearls. Killer puppets, I called them.”
Meat broke off his story to say, “I bet that's Madame Rosa's booth over there. The amulet guy said it was across from the theater.”
Herculeah turned and looked at the empty booth. She could imagine Madame Rosa there, laying out her cards, bending over palms. Unbidden, tears filled her eyes and she curled her fingers around her amulet.
“He told me something else. Madame Rosa saw something that terrified her. She saw it somewhere here in the flea market. And that's not all. She was muttering something about aâ”
“Tell me later, Meat. We need to back up and let these little kids up front,” Herculeah said.
The children arranged themselves on the floor in front of the curtain. The curtain opened and Frankie, the puppeteer, stuck his head out.
“She was muttering something about a knife,” Meat whispered.
Herculeah looked at him then, but her question was drowned out by the puppeteer's hearty, “Hi, gang!”
“Hi.”
“Let's try that again. I didn't hear you. Hi!”
“HI!”
“That's better.”
Herculeah wanted to ask about the knife, but her eyes focused on the puppeteer.
“Who is he?” she asked Meat in a whisper.
“Some guy.”
“He looks familiar.”
The puppeteer said, “Want to get on with the show?”
“Yes.”
“I didn't hear you.”
“YES!”
The head of the first puppet appeared. It was a prince.
“There's something familiar about him, too,” Herculeah mumbled.
“I read somewhere that the puppeteer models his characters on real people,” Meat whispered back.
The prince looked up at the sky. “Ah, beautiful night! Bring forth my loved one!” Then to the crowd he said, “I am waiting here for the most beautiful girl in the world.”
The ogre's head appeared behind him, bringing cries of delight from the audience.
The prince swirled around, but the ogre was gone. “Did you see her?” he asked the audience.
“YES!”
“Was she not the most beautiful girl in the world?”
“NO!”
“I will try again. O beautiful night, bring forth my loved one.”
A witch appeared, flying down from above and disappearing almost immediately on the other side of the stage.
The audience laughed in delight. Again the prince asked, “Oh, did you see her?”
“YES!”
“Was she not beautiful?”
“NO!”
Herculeah reached for Meat's hand and held it. Meat was so stunned that for a moment he almost made a terrible mistake and jerked his hand away.
He glanced at Herculeah, but her eyes were on the stage.
“Did you see the witch?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you notice anything about her?”
“Not really.”
“Not even who she looked like?”
“No.”
“Madame Rosa.”
13
WHICH WITCH
The show had ended. The puppeteer had taken up a collection, and he had reminded the audience, “There'll be another show at four o'clockâa completely different show. Don't miss it. This one's going to be sca-a-a-ry!”
Herculeah and Meat followed him backstage.
“Hi, I'm Herculeah Jones,” she said. “We really enjoyed your show.”
“Well, thanks. I'm hoping for a bigger audience at four. Come back. Check it out.”
“I think it's really neat the way you model your puppets on real people.”
The puppeteer's look sharpened. “I've seen you around somewhere. Let me think.”
“Her mom's a private eye,” Meat said, more to get into the conversation than to be helpful.
The puppeteer turned his sharp gaze on Meat. “I've seen her sign, over on ...”
He paused as if waiting for Meat to supply the name of the street, but Herculeah interrupted.
“Are all of your puppets based on real people? I thought I recognized one.”
“Hey, maybe I'll do a puppet of you sometime,” the puppeteer said, sidestepping the question. “You'd make a good ... let me see ... Amazon.”
Meat looked quickly at Herculeah to see if she had been insulted, but she was smiling, apparently pleased.
“You'd have to use a lot of yarn for my hair,” Herculeah said.
“Well, don't do one of me,” Meat interrupted, “or you'd have to use a lot ofâ” He stopped abruptly.
“Stuffing,” the puppeteer finished.
Meat turned away as if he'd been slapped. He did feel insulted. He wasn't secure like Herculeah.
“Can I ask you something else?” Herculeah said.
“Shoot.”
“You used to know Madame Rosa, didn't you?”
“Who?”
“Madame Rosa. She had that booth over there.” Herculeah pointed to the now-empty booth across the way.
“Oh, her.”
“Herculeah was the person who found her body,” Meat said. At least when he did get into the conversation, he had something interesting to say.
The puppet in Frank's hands took an involuntary step in midair.
“Yeah, well, she had that booth, but she hasn't been here in a while. I can't even remember the last time I saw her.”
“Did you ever notice who her customers were?”
“Mostly women.”
“Any regulars?”
“I didn't watch that closely. It looked like an impulse thing. People would see her sign and, âHey, I think I'll find out about old Uncle Abe's will.' ”
Herculeah smiled, but Meat didn't. A sudden thought hit him. “I was just talking to that guy who sells jewelry, and he said that Madame Rosa came running out of here like she'd seen a ghostâlike the devil himself was after herâthat's the way he put it.”
The puppeteer gave a shrug. “So?”
“So I was wondering if you saw anything that could have scared her.”
“No, but I was probably in the middle of a show. I don't notice anything then but the puppets. Man, I've got a cast of hundreds.”
Herculeah was watching him intently. “I noticed the witch sort of resembled Madame Rosa. Was that on purpose?”
“Nah, I've had that puppet for years.”
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