Page 46 of The Forest of Lost Souls

WHAT HE VALUES LEAST

Sam Crockett is a boy of many enthusiasms, each embraced as fully as any other. The mysteries of ancient Egypt, who built the pyramids and how. The myths of the ancient Greeks and Romans. UFOs, life on other worlds, what waits to be discovered on the dark side of the moon. The United States Marines, their history and triumphs and sacrifices, this battle and that, the details of their dress uniforms, their courage and sense of honor. Trains, their lore and history, theIrish Mail, theOrient Express, theNight Ferryfrom London to Paris, theCalifornia Zephyr. Psychics, clairvoyants, mediums, and fortunetellers.

The year that Sam is thirteen, the woman in a white robe and yellow sneakers sets up shop in an old house rented from Vance Burkhardt. In calligraphy on both sides of her VW van are these words: LOOK WITH KINDNESS ON THOSE WHO SUFFER,WHO STRUGGLE AGAINST DIFFICULTIES,WHO DRINK UNCEASINGLY THE BITTERNESS OF THIS LIFE. A sign in the yard promises that the seer will reveal the truth and the future.

That is an irresistible offer to many in the county, not least of all to Sam, especially because he is enduring the most difficult year of his young life. Of those whom he knows to have visited the fortuneteller, few will discuss what she told them. Those who do make revelations all claim to have received predictions of goodhealth, of unexpected money soon to come into their hands, of love on the way, of wrongs done to them that will be set right; however, they appear unsettled, are unable to make eye contact, and seem to be lying. If they are disturbed by what the seer actually told them, Sam should not want to subject himself to whatever the cards or the soggy tea leaves tell her. But the price is so right. They say the woman takes no money, asking only that you bring her the thing that you value least. Sam knows what that is. No brooding is required.

Besides, he wants to be a Marine when he grows up, and no one with the thinnest thread of cowardice sewn through him can hope to be a Marine. Courage is required no less than honor. He need not be fearless; fearlessness is foolish. However, every fear must be faced down, chained, and kept in check. If the seer has something godawful to tell him, he’ll just have to hear it, consider it, and then get on with life.

The rental property in which the woman has set up shop is eight miles from the house where Sam lives with his mother, Pauline, but that distance is no obstacle. He has his bicycle, and school is out.

He arrives as a man and woman drive away in a Buick sedan. They look grim.

The fortuneteller, who stands on the porch to watch them leave, is somewhat of a surprise to Sam. Although he knows about the robe and the canary-yellow sneakers, he imagined that she must be witchy or maybe sinister like the Romany crystal-gazers in those old movies about werewolves and the like. Instead, she has a pleasant face; something about the way she looks, something that he can’t define, encourages him to trust her and feel safe in her company.

She welcomes him into the old house and conducts him to the shadowy kitchen, where he sits across from her at a painted table. The window blinds are drawn shut. Candles glimmer in three small, red glasses. The room should be spooky. Instead, it feels mysterious but unthreatening, the way places are in adventure stories set in exotic lands, like a hidden room in an abandoned palace or a chamber in a castle tower where a wizard casts and conjures on behalf of the righteous king.

“What have you brought me, Sam?”

“How could you know my name?”

“How could I not?”

“So wow. You really have power.”

“No power. I want none. But I see.”

He thinks about that, wondering how much she sees, how deeply. Having come here to ask about the future, specifically his mother’s future, he only now considers that the banner staked in the yard, the blue cloth with silver moons and stars, promises not only that this woman will reveal the future but also the truth. She knows his name. How much more about him will she come to know as they proceed? There are a few things about himself that he would rather she not see, faults that he must conquer if he’s ever to become a Marine. Perhaps the true cost of her revelations isn’t the thing he values least but also the full truth of himself in embarrassing detail.

“Yes,” she says, though he has asked no question.

His heartbeat accelerates. Being committed to going into battle and putting your life at risk is only one kind of courage. Another and necessary kind of courage, which he has come to understand by reading adventure novels, is to know yourself for what you really are, accept what that is, and correct those habitsand attitudes that need to be corrected. You can’t be a hero if you run away from either the enemy or the truth of yourself. Now he understands what he hasn’t quite appreciated before: The second kind of courage is harder than the first.

“Exactly,” says the seer.

His hand shakes as he shuttles the large manila envelope across the table, past the triangulated candles.

When she opens it, twenty-six snapshots slide out and spill across the many layers of color in the scarred and chipped tabletop. “These are of your father.”

“Yeah. I don’t want them. They’re the thing I value least. That’s what they say you want.”

“Why don’t you value them?”

“You’re a seer. You know already.”

“To receive what you came here for, you must hear yourself say why you would throw these away.”

Sam affects a deadpan voice. He dares not allow himself anger, for that will give rise to other feelings he can’t control. He is determined to be strong, self-controlled. “He left us. Seven months ago. He wanted her more than he wanted my mother.”

“And more than he wanted you.”

“It’s my mother I’m worried about. He went out of state with that ... that woman. Another state where it’s not easy for Mom to make him do what’s right. He’s got money, not just what he took from the bank without telling her, but he won’t send her a dime. She took a second job to keep from losing the house. She cries at night in her room.”

Sam stops speaking, stares at the candle flames. He has allowed resentment to enter his voice, which could lead to stronger emotions that will undo him. The seer sees, and she waits to be toldwhat she already knows. In time, Sam says, “He never calls. She emails him. He answered just one, said he’s never coming back. She kept hoping, but now she’s finally going for a divorce. I never want to see those photos again, his face.”

“What about your father himself?”

“What about him?”

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