liloleglee:
The tall man raised his eyebrows before letting out a gentle, easy laugh.
“Ah, don’t y’all worry ‘bout botherin’ nobody. Ain’t nobody here but me. ‘Fact, I oughta thank my lucky stars you came on by. Funny how the cheapest storefront don’t lend itself to much business. Does let the local cat population roam around like a pack ‘a barn cats, though, tell ya what. Snowy’s mama had kittens right here in the cellar, and I’ll be damned if they don’t plum run the place.”
The same light steps carried the man over to the tarot table, as if he were deliberately attempting to soften his own footfall. Aside from that, however, the man stood straight, as gently confident as a neighborhood pastor.
“Anyway, you could say the same for your accent - nice to meet another American over ‘cross the pond! Now, you said this set here…”
He settled himself on a chair behind the glass case full of large geodes and intricate pendulums and set the colorful deck to the left of the register.
“These’re plenty clear. Your friend’s friend’ll get some good, honest readings out of ‘em. Not to mention, decks ya give as gifts tend to be good luck,” he paused long enough to give a beaming smile in Norman’s direction. “Then again, most everything from back home tends to be good luck. Or very, very bad luck, if you end up waist-deep in the wrong swamp.”
clk-ching
“Fifteen pounds even there, Mr…?”
Norman gulps a little and tries to force himself to relax, nothing about this guy had been threatening, he was just really big. James looked threatening but you could spook the man into running with a popped balloon, size didn’t equate danger.
The boy listens with a slight tilt of his head, makes sense to be honest, had he not been chasing the kitten he wouldn’t have given the storefront a second glance. Still, he had to have some customers right? How else would he stay in business?
“There are a lot of cats around here…” He agrees quietly, only just keeping from adding ‘I know a few’ as they were less like…these cats.
Norman was very well versed in body language though, and he was a bit curious as he noted the continued soft footfalls of the man, it didn’t match his stature, why would someone so big try to step so quietly like they were mismatched somehow? It was strange… Then again the living were as odd and unique as the dead, maybe he had been a dancer or something, they would walk softly right?
Unless you were Mabel blasting down the hallway trying to resurrect the thriller dance.
He nods his agreement as he moves closer to watch the man shift items about to get the deck, and he reaches into his hoodie to fish out the somewhat crumpled little bundle of notes he had. They were supposed to be for lunch but he just forgot, maybe a good thing in retrospect.
“G…Good luck is what I’m aiming for…” He felt a little chill at the bad luck statement, but shook it off. “Not in the wrong…swamp here…right sir?” He ventures as he holds up a twenty pound note.
“O-oh… Norman… My name’s Norman…” He internally curbs the ‘a psychic would have known that’ voice in his head.
“And… And yours…?”
Aha.
“Well now,” he began, popping open the register drawer and gently taking the note, “That all depends on whatcha call bad luck. Different for everybody. Personally, though, i think this is a nice li’l home away from home, and I do hope you’ll feel just the same. Either way, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Babcock.”
He took a moment to wink as he passed the £5 back over to the boy.
“My name is Gilbert Blithe. Y’all can call me Mr. Blithe, or Gilly, or whatever comes natural. Now let’s see...”
He slid the box open and tipped out the cards, flipping them and spreading them across the counter.
“Fool, Magician, High Priestess...” he murmured, sliding through the cards as he counted. “... 2 of coins, ace of coins. All here, son, you’re all set.”
Mr. Blithe collected the cards and tapped the deck on the glass.
“Now, I know this is a gift deck, but would y’all like a readin’ with it anyway?”
