September 2010

Tempting fate

By Ashley Fetters

I've never been one for fortune-telling. I've always preferred to bumble along clumsily from one day to the next, letting the great unknown be just that. But a quick jaunt around the information superhighway tells me it's not uncommon for
the wayward superstar to swear by psychic readings-after
all, Tori Spelling can miraculously connect with the ghost of Farrah Fawcett through psychic mediums, and Madonna and Alanis Morrissette have both been known to consult the tarot deck here and there. What's an aspiring glamazon to do except follow their lead? So, naturally, I begin my great adventure in paranormal activity by visiting three M innesota fortune-tellers.

LESLIE HALLING,
TAROT READER, ROCHESTER

When I meet tarot reader Leslie Halling in her Rochester studio, she sits down next to me at a velvet-cloaked massage table. Halling has warm eyes and gray hair like steel wool, and the first thing she says is, “Just so you know, I’m not a fortune-teller.” At my puzzled expression, she explains that the future is always changeable, and that tarot is open to interpretation. More than anything, she says, tarot readings tell what people need to know as they move forward. She hands me the tarot deck. “Think of a question,” she says, and tells me to shuffle the cards and then cut the deck three times.

In early September, I’ll embark on a four-month adventure studying abroad in Barcelona, Spain. So I decide “What can I expect from my trip to Barcelona?” is a worthwhile question to ask the 78-card oracle. Halling tells me to draw one card that “represents me right now,” and then concentrate on my question as I draw four more. “Keeping that question in mind as you draw the cards helps spread your energy out over the cards as you choose them,” she says, and I imagine little particles of my panicky lost-tourist hysteria sprinkling down over the fanned-out cards like pixie dust. She doesn’t ask what my question is.

Halling takes my five cards and arranges them like a plus sign. At the center is the first card I picked; the card at this position, she explains, represents the central idea in my life at the moment. I’ve drawn the Six of Wands, which represents triumph, success, or reaching a goal. The accuracy surprises me: Five weeks ago, I had ACL reconstruction surgery, and I’ve been working toward a full recovery by the time I leave for
Spain. So it’s true—reaching that goal of full recovery is the central, pivotal point in my Barcelona question. Not bad for a pile of cardstock.

From the next two cards she reads strength in my future, and an idyllic, naive perception of love that I’ve held onto from the past. The latter card is upside down; Halling explains that upside-down cards can indicate blocked energy, and advises me to let go of those high expectations of my relationships if I want to move forward. Yep, that’s right -- I’m shipping off to the European city best known for its hombres atractivos and its wild, dizzying night life, and the first thing I’ve been advised to do is lower my standards.

Halling informs me that, according to the cards, I’m a little worried about the question I’ve asked. She’s right; I am. But she then reassures me that the Page of Pentacles at the bottom of the plus-sign represents Earth, which suggests the near future holds physical enjoyments and earthly pleasures aplenty. She then wishes me the best and sends me on my baffled way.

If there’s any merit to Halling’s tarot reading, the whole of Barcelona and I had both better brace ourselves.

JEAN ROBERT LEMARCHAND,
PALM READER, MINNEAPOLIS

I visit palmist Jean Robert LeMarchand at the Eye of Horus Metaphysical Store in Minneapolis. In a dusty upper room lit only by skylight, LeMarchand holds open hours for palm readings every Saturday evening. He’s a kind-faced man with a pointy, eccentric mustache like a friendlier, Midwestern Salvador Dalí. A nurse during the week, LeMarchand has a gentle voice and soft hands as he traces his fingers over my palm.

He first asks to see both hands. Unlike Halling, LeMarchand gives no opening disclaimer about the uncertainty of the future. To him, the path of my life is already laid out before me, and I’ve carried the map in the palm of my hand since birth.

Since I’m right-handed, he says, my right hand shows my present situation while my left hand shows my potential. “Actually, you’re pretty close,” he says, after a moment of examination. Finally living up to my potential—my parents must be so proud! He then proceeds to read from my right hand.

LeMarchand tells me that my short fingers and rectangular palm mean I’m energetic and passionate, frequently starting new projects. Hands like mine, he says, are “Fire Hands.”

LeMarchand explains that my long Heart Line extends to just under my index finger, meaning I have unrealistically high expectations of my emotional relationships. (This seems to be a recurring theme—I guess this means it’s time to part with the Robert Pattinson fantasy. I’m so sorry, Edward. It was fun while it lasted.)

The long “islands” in my Heart Line, the palmist says, speak of long periods of stress, and a considerably heightened one located a little further along in my line causes him to pause, look up, and say, “I hate to break this to you, but it looks like a good portion of your thirties is going to suck.” He then goes on to explain that somewhere around age 44 or 45 my Life Line
is interrupted by an acute health-related event or injury, which will then lead to a chronic health problem needing care on a day-to-day basis. I’m not quite sure how to respond. But not to worry! LeMarchand brightens when he then mentions that I have a Sun Line. People with Sun Lines are charismatic, and can hold others’ attention with their voices. “Good storytellers, too,” he adds.

Well, at least there’s that. After all, it’s reassuring to know that even after my lonely, Edward Cullen-less thirtysomething years, I’ll still have terrific stories to share with my rheumatologist.

HEATHER ALLEN,
PSYCHIC READER, WANAMINGO

At fi rst glance, psychic reader Heather Allen’s apartment in Wanamingo looks like any other small-town Minnesota living space. Books, lamps and little souvenirs line the room and walls, and a whimsical smileyface clock grins from atop her TV set. But on second inspection, those trinkets reveal themselves as divination charts and mysterious figurines, and among her books are the I Ching and the Book of Runes. Allen herself is a brown-haired woman in simple, comfortable clothing like mine, but if I’ve learned anything from her apartment, it’s not to be fooled by appearances.

Allen has notes prepared when I get there. She’s already asked her “spirit guides” what my future holds. As we sit down in her living room, Allen warns me that during our conversation, she may stop mid-sentence to listen to the spirit guides, but she reassures me that I don’t need to be alarmed. She’s just connecting with her higher self, that’s all.

Like the tarot reader Halling, she reminds me that my future still has plenty of time to change. Unceremoniously, she dives right in.

“So, right at the end of August or the beginning of September, I see you leaving something behind, something it’ll be hard for you to part with,” she says. “It’ll be something of a transition period, and I feel like you’ll end up in a situation that’s different, but familiar. You’ll need to readjust a little. Tell me, are you leaving the area or something? Just temporarily?”

With Barcelona on my mind, I try not to give away that I’m a little
spooked. After all, couldn’t plenty of people mold that same prediction around their own lives? Still, though—she sounds just like my travel advisor. So far, she’s one for one.

Allen tells me she foresees the “emotional upheaval” continuing into October, followed by some doubts as to the path I’m choosing. January, however, offers a chance at a fresh start after I move away from the turmoil of September to December.

Uneasily, I realize January is when I’m planning to return to the States. Could it be that I’m just not cut out for living abroad?
Allen erases that shadow of doubt. “I sense that you’ve got this love of foreign cultures,” she says, before I can even ask the question. “And you’ve got this natural trust about you. People just trust you right away.” She foresees plenty of international adventures in my future, and she sees this trustworthiness
being an asset in my future travels to “unconventional places.” She’s reading my mind like she’s… well, like she’s psychic.

Allen then proceeds to look further into my future. And finally, an outlook that’s not quite so bleak: “Somewhere around age 27 or 28,” she says, “I see a relationship for you. He’ll have
sharp features and light-brown hair, and you meet him either
on or because of a trip.” In Allen’s vision, I meet my mystery man (Robert Pattinson, is that you?) on a beach. “I see you wearing a halter top, and him wearing swim trunks. And
from what I see,” she adds, grinning conspiratorially, “the view
isn’t bad.”

So it’s true! Edward, even after I’d lost all hope because of my
palm lines and my tarot reading, it turns out our star-crossed happy ending is written in the book of fate after all.

... But on second thought, did I really need a psychic to tell me
that? I’d say I knew all along.