Sunday Newscape Magazine

If Miss Cleo is legit, she must be ready to scream by now. I know a lot of people think she’s fake. Miss Cleo is the Tarot Card reader whose commercials air on cable television about every five or six seconds. She listens to the spirits that surround her and consults the cards while people call in with questions. She then proceeds to tell her callers why their lives are a mess.

But let’s not be overly critical. If you listened to spirits talking all day, you would probably start using twelve different accents in one sentence just like she does. (“Ahh, you vant me ta figgur who ees da fodder ov your wee laddie, ja? Oy vey.”)

She apparently has this amazing gift, and she wants nothing more than to use her powers for good. In between phone calls, she looks joyfully at the camera and says, “Let da power of da ancient Tarot shock and amaze you! Let da spirits guide your future!”

Then a call comes in and the first words she hears are, “Um, yeah. I’ve had eight children by seven different guys and possibly a Saint Bernard, and I’m wondering which one of these guys is my true love and why one of my kids has a tail.”

You can actually see Miss Cleo wince. Which is why I think she really does have a gift. She is not happy that she’s stuck using her amazing powers to determine the romantic futures of drunken inbred Springer-show rejects.

I want to help. I want to team up with Miss Cleo because I have discovered that I also have the amazing gift of prophecy. I can’t determine the bigger things like lottery numbers or other financial opportunities, but I can determine the future of every loser who calls into her show. That will free up Miss Cleo to handle the important matters.

I have it all planned. The show will begin, and Miss Cleo will have her incense, candles, and Tarot cards. I’ll sit next to her with my can of root beer, playing solitaire with a deck of cards I picked up at a nearby gas station.

While Miss Cleo instructs Ed from San Diego about the spiritual enlightenment he is about to receive that will lead him to quit his job and spend his life doing missionary work in Kenya, I’ll be talking with Tonya Mae Hedgebecker from somewhere outside of Waco.

“What can I do for you, Tonya?” I ask, popping open a can of Barqs.

“Um, yeah. Miss Jennifer, I want to know if my boyfriend is ever going to marry me.”

“Let’s consult the deck. Hmmm....four queens. Tonya, who is that singing in the background?”

“Oh, that’s my boyfriend. He always sings when he knits.”

“He’s knitting?”

“Yeah. He knits sweaters for his nieces and nephews. They’re so pretty! And he cuts and styles hair as well - you should see my hair, Miss Jennifer! He did all this pretty layered feathering on the sides and told me to watch out for split ends -”

“Tonya, is he singing a Broadway show tune?”

“Yes! ‘Moonlight!’ It’s been his favorite ever since he heard Barbra Streisand’s version!”

“Uh huh. Tonya, your boyfriend is never going to marry you. He’s gay.”

“Oh....my....god....are you sure?”

“I’m positive. In fact, you always kind of knew that, right Tonya?”

“Well, I found him in bed with my brother last week, but I never suspected - wow, Miss Jennifer, you’re amazing!”

“Thank you. NEXT!”

“Miss Jennifer? This is Thelma. Can you tell me who’s the father of my baby?”

“You sleep with a lot of guys, don’t you, Thelma?”

“Wow...yes, I do. I can’t believe you knew that..”

“And you drink a lot, right?”

“I’m drunk right now! Did the spirits tell you that?”

“Yeah, sure. The spirits. Let’s see now, your kid either has dark hair or light hair.”

“Yes!! He’s got blonde hair! You’re incredible! So are you saying that Earl is the daddy?”

“I see that Earl has blonde hair.”

“Yes!!”

“Bingo.”

“Hello, Miss Jennifer? This is Tonya Mae again. Should I break up with my gay boyfriend?”

“You’re not too bright, are you Tonya?”

“No, I’m not! That’s amazing - how did you know that?”

“Well, the fact that you’ve called me twice and told me and our entire television audience all this while our network charged three bucks a minute to your credit card.”

“Oh, it isn’t my card. I found it in my boyfriend’s wallet.” (Sound of a loud shriek in the background.)

“Tonya, the spirits tell me your boyfriend is about to kill you.”

“Is that why he’s got that knife?”

“Tonya, run.”

“Okay!”

Click.

Copyright by Jennifer Layton