Elijah was happily minding his own business. It was fourth of July weekend. Hotdogs were aplenty. Freedom? Sexy. Barbecues? Open door policies. Grandmas across the nation were offering any Elijah who wandered into their sights some of their signature potato salad. Everything was dandy. That was, until walked past that set up.
The first thing Elijah saw was the sign. Spiritual counselling. Then, his eyes landed on the crystal ball. He tuned in just in time to hear the other man’s voice, alarm already painted plainly on his face.
“Oh, hell no. You got that psychic shit?” He combed his eyes over the guy quickly, like he was a bomb that was about to go off and Elijah had been tasked with the responsibility of disarming it. “If my Dida’s calling, tell her I’m not home. Christ. What are they saying about me?”
“Well, step right on up and see,” Major replied, arms thrown out in a welcoming gesture. He knew that moving the crystal ball right to the forefront was a great idea, as much as Ma said they weren’t that kind of mystics. Whatever. Didn’t matter to him, so long as it grabbed some attention. This guy was radiating energy so much anyhow, so enquiring with the ball wasn’t even going to be necessary.
“Right, I’ll tell ‘er that,” he said with a soft, friendly chuckle, amused at the panic all over the poor man’s face. Then he grimaced, shaking his head at Elijah, “Oof, she’s real persistent though, wants to know why you’re so dead set on avoidin’ her. I’m sensin’ that you should be more focused on movin’ forward right now, unstick yourself from woes of the past.”