Changing the Future

The telephone rings. It is him. I know by the ticking of the clock, by the shadows outside that it is him. Eagerly I await by the phone. Hello. His voice, raspy and deep. Hello.

I met him by accident. I was never supposed to meet him. Our fates were foretold. But I changed fate. I wanted to see him again, to hear him again, to feel him again. On my 18th birthday, my mother took me to see the Wise One, who was said to foretell people's past, present, and future. She said, Honey, when we walk to the house, don't look back. Look forward at all times. Otherwise, it's bad luck.

Shaking deeply within, I followed her lead into the unobstructed 2-story home with the white fence that was sequestered deep inside a suburban enclosed community. The Wise One sat in his kitchen. His children were watching cartoons on television. We weren't the first ones there. A line had been formed and we pulled our number.

When our turn came, I stared hard into his eyes. Could he really tell the future? The past? The present? I wanted to intimidate him. Rather, it was me who was humbled. The truths he spoke, I could not deny. How could he know something even Mother didn't know about. As soon as I
told him my birthdate and cut and dealt the rough-looking deck of cards on his dining table, my destiny was an open book.

He was there. In my past. We had been lovers, who swore never to meet again in the next lifetime. He was my destiny, but we wouldn't meet in this lifetime because of the oath we took. You've met him, he said. Change the future, I responded. Yes, but it will come with a price.

I changed the future. He calls me now. I changed the future. But his voice is sad. Does he know? I changed the future and the future has changed me.