The sun had nearly set and although it had not grown completely dark yet the Carnival was already turning into a sickly neapolitan light fantasy. Gia only added to this as she lit the yellow and orange lamps that surrounded the entrance to her fortune telling tent. Her wrinkled hands were used to the heat the lamps quickly gained but she did not hold onto them for long. Next door to her Hokl was lighting his own lamps. He had had a long day. You did not have to be a fortune teller to know that he was not looking forward to the night ahead. His sighs gave that away quite clearly.
“Don’t worry,” Gia said, “I’m sure they won’t come back again.”
Of course she was lying. She knew fine well the Guards would be back within a month to tear down his stall and set ablaze his potions and remedies. That was the life though of a fortune teller: one of lies and deceit. Gia could never truly tell her customers what would happen to them. She had to wrap in it cotton wool or entail it in riddle. There were other times when all she could do was tell them what they wanted to hear otherwise all she would get was grief and no payment. Grief from the customer and grief from above.
Hokl had never done anything illegal. Not intentionally anyway. He was a bit of a dreamer. He liked to think it was possible to make potions that did anything; potions for eternal happiness, potions for true love, potions that could make you fly. That sort of thing. His potions were not completely unsuccessful. They provided some of the things he promised, just not all of them and not necessarily in the correct potion. He did not mean to hurt anyone but there had been a lot of complaints. The Guard had come down and giving him a good talking to. Hokl had tried desperately to stick up for himself. The Guard though had totally chopped him down to pieces, told him this was his final warning and left as if they had done nothing.
His stall was now left with a minimum variety in its stock. To liven up the now drab, nearly monotone, stall he caught some fireflies in jars and placed them every few bottles. Hokl loved fireflies. They were such an enigma, such a dream-like creature, similar to himself. He wished he could be admired.
“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” he told Gia. “I try so hard to please everyone and it just backfires.”
“Maybe that’s your problem. What’s keeping you here anywhere? You’re on a travelling contract. Give them a few weeks notice so they can make sure your space is filled, and then you can be away again. When you came here you said you just wanted to experience this place for a few months and then you’d be gone.” Gia was trying her hardest to send a warning in disguise.
Two years after arriving, and much to both Hokl and everyone else’s confusion, he was still here.
