Naturally

Certain things come naturally for people. It comes natural for my friend Chloe to walk to her mirror, comb over her long locks, and exclaim “I’m a sexy bitch”. It comes natural for my friend Penelope to suggest a trade – purchasing beautiful bridesmaid gowns or taking a trip for her bachelorette fiesta – to lower costs for her wedding party. It comes natural for my cousin Kayla to inspect pieces of cooked chicken in search of potential “pinkness” that may cause salmonella. I am no different. Though I don’t praise myself like you would a Greek goddess or accuse restaurants of potential food poisoning, I have an unexplainable addiction to Coco Rico and Puerto Ricans, a natural dislike for mushy foods, and, though I can’t sit through a single horror movie, I am drawn to vampire flicks and watch as the vampires suck your blood. But what is most natural is my constant need for immediate results and quick answers. It is why I returned to the world of Tarot and the Barajas after my ass whooping. Nothing felt more natural than sitting with a psychic advisor and having my future predicted.

I followed the psychic down the long corridor, where wet clothes hung from her self-made clothesline. She waved me into the kitchen and motioned me to sit down on a plastic-covered chair. I sat as she opened a drawer and picked up a pack of cards. She then carried her robust body toward the stove, twisted the front knob, and lit a white candle with the flame.

“A quien es que conoces?” she asked while taking a seat across from me.

(Who is it that you know?)

“Chloe – ella venido donde usted para leerse las barajas,” I replied.

(Chloe – she’s come to you to get her cards read.)

“No me recuerdo de ella, pero lla estas aqui, verdad?”

(I don’t remember her, but you’re already here, right?)

I nodded. My heartbeat quickened as she shuffled the cards. She placed them on the kitchen table and asked me to split the cards into two piles, just like the Dominican-Spanish-speaking psychic. My hands shook as I did what was instructed. I then pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from my purse in order to write her predictions.

“Ay un muchacho - mas joven que tu, trigeñito, alto – el va a volver donde ti,” she said.

(There’s a guy – younger, dark skinned, tall – he will come back.)

I smiled. My muscled relaxed and I began to breathe. I knew it was Elijah. I jotted it down. She then recapped our history – the break-up, his ex, everything – and told me about his current status. Elijah hadn’t returned to his ex. He didn’t want to be with her though she constantly called. I felt my faith being restored, and then she said:

“Tu y el vuelven, pero va ser diferente. El esta por aqui, por alla, metido en muchas cosas. Si el no te enseña que va ser responsable, que tu puedes contar con el, no van a durar.”

(You will get back together but it’ll be different. He’s here, there, involved in many things. If he doesn’t show you that he will be responsible, that you can count on him, then you two won’t last.)

I sat there, silent, and remembered his behavior over the past months. Elijah had been unreliable and scattered. But maybe he will change. It came natural for me to focus on the positive.

“Yo quiero preguntarle algo,” I asked.

(I want to ask you something.)

I paused for a second, wondered if I really wanted to know the answer.

"El es el hombre para mi?” I asked.

(Is he the one?)

She scanned over the cards, looked at one, then another and said:

“No, no es el hombre para ti.”

I lowered my head and scribbled “he’s not the one for me”. While I folded the sheet of paper, she said:

“Pero va ver otro hombre en tu vida. El es alto, indiesito como tu, pelo negro. Lo vas a conocer este año. Te va gustar mucho y van ha estar juntos.”

(But there will be another man in your life. He is tall, your skin color, black hair. You will meet him this year. You will like him a lot and you will be together.)

I opened the sheet of paper once again and wrote: “another man, tall, my color, this year”. I paused, reread the prediction and contemplated crossing out the words. But I didn’t. The words “he’s not the one for me” caught my eye. I immediately turned the page over to find the other prediction. “We will be together again –“ We will be together again. I ignored the rest, naturally.