Chicago Noir [Anthology]

Set up under a dark purple tent was Billik, dressed impeccably in a new suit, with the sign reading the old words, “The Great Billik, Card-Reader and Seer.”

“Mary

”

“For goodness sake, He’'s got a tent here at the amusement park,” she said. “He wants people to come see him. He wouldn'’t be out here in the open if there was something wrong, would he?”

“All right,” I said. “Let’s go. I want to get a look at him up close and personal.”

“No,” she said forcefully.

“You don’t want to see him?”

“No, I do

just, not, all together.”

I looked at Billik, who stared straight ahead at the fair, as if he were alone in his home, looking out the window.

“Fine, Mary. But I’m going to see him first.”

She made as if to protest, but then thought better of it. “Good,” she said sweetly. “I hope he has some good news for you.”

I strode up to the booth, but my heart was pounding. I wasn'’t sure why. Billik ignored me until I stood in front of his table and cleared my throat. He looked up and nodded at me to sit down, without saying a word. He began flipping some cards around.

“She bring some friends?” he asked.

“Who?”

Billik jerked his head in Mary’s direction. “She bring you along?” His English wasn'’t completely right, but he spoke with hardly any accent. His skin burst out of his collar, but was clean and smooth, pale and shiny like a baby’s. He barely seemed to look at the oversized cards that he was handling, as they made a slapping sound. A breeze started blowing and it began feeling more like May in Chicago.

“Tell her to stay away,” he said. “She waste my time.”

“I tried telling her to stay away. She thinks you have powers.”

He stopped and looked up at me with the blackest eyes I have ever seen. “I do have powers. She has nothing for me to tell her.”

“She thinks you do, or you will,” I said.

“Stupid girl.” He looked up at me and grinned. “You want fortune?”

“No, I—”

“Give me your hand.” He grabbed toward my arm.

“No. ”

“Who are your parents? Where do they work? You have nice house?”

I hurried away. Before I could even talk to her, Mary practically ran into the tent.

“What did he say?” asked Ginny, as we saw Mary eagerly sit down in the chair in front of Billik, who looked supremely uninterested.

“He says that Mary’s bothering him. He seems like a complete farce. He’'s mean. You go up there and you’ll see.”

“No, I’m not. My parents would send me to a convent if they heard I was meeting with a mystic or a seer or whatever it is he calls himself.”

Mary looked on with great interest at the cards that Billik was flipping around carelessly, and she eagerly held out her hand, which Billik pretended to study with poorly concealed boredom. He accepted the nickel she offered him like it was soiled linen.

I received some good news a few weeks later. My family was able to put some money together and I was going to go up to Milwaukee to attend Alverno, a women’s college. Fall of ’06, I packed my things, said goodbye to my family, and took the train to Wisconsin to begin classes. I wrote home frequently, and tried Mary several times, telling her about school and my classmates and the city, in hopes of getting her to speak with me again, but she gave me no answer.

I came home for Christmas, excited to see my family.All the aunts and uncles and cousins met at our house, and Ginny and I took a walk around the neighborhood to see if anyone else was out celebrating. All the houses looked lit up and warm, but as we came to the Vzral house, it was dark, with a wretched little black wreath on the door.

“What happened?” I asked.

“That poor family,” whispered Ginny, who was becoming like her mother, more pious and maternal, as she grew older. “Tillie died the day before you came home,” she said, referring to one of the younger sisters.

“Oh! That’s so sad. First their father, then Tillie

”

“Actually,” said Ginny, “Susie passed away right after you left for Milwaukee. They’ve lost two sisters.”

“Why didn'’t you tell me?” I said.

“I didn'’t find out about it until much later,” she said. “You know that family better than I do. I forgot, I suppose.”

“What happened?”

“They say stomach trouble. For all of them. I hope it’s not contagious.”

We came home just as Mary had stopped by to say hello to my parents. She looked gaunt, much older than when I had last seen her. She seemed happy, though, and was cordial to me.

“How is your father, Mary?”

“Oh, He’'s fine, on death’s door as he always is. But I’'ve been working, and it’s good to get out of the house.”

“That’s good news,” I said. “Where are you working?”

“Some housekeeping here and there,” she said lightly, trailing off. “Some bookkeeping too.”

“Where?”

“Neighbors,” she said, and abruptly changed the subject.

I hadn'’t seen Edward, my neighborhood boy, for a while and it was good to spend time with him again, away from my family and my classmates. I enjoyed school but being around so many other girls was tiring. The night before I left to go back, he asked if I would marry him. I said I'’d think about it but of course I knew that I would.

Back in Milwaukee, Mary deigned to write to me again. I found out that she was working for Billik. She really, truly seemed happy, though, and told me stories of their fine house, his dusty cases of fortune-telling equipment that she wasn'’t allowed to touch, and the large sums of money that she kept track of, but knew nothing about.

“Is he paying you well, at least?” I wrote back.

“My payment comes in watching him work,” she wrote me. “And his knowledge. He says that He’'s starting to see some good luck for me in the future. And love! I hope it’s true.”

“What’s his wife like?” I responded, and she ignored this question in her next letter. She did congratulate me when I told her I was going to marry Edward.

I came back to Chicago for good that summer in 1907. We were hoping to marry in the winter, so we went to the parish to discuss the date with the Father and were surprised to see a coffin inside.

“Rose Vzral,” he said, sighing and looking sad. “Only fourteen years old. If I believed in such things, I would think that family had a curse on it.” I wanted to ask him if he believed in curses later when Rose’s sister Ella died that fall. Stomach problems as well.

A month before the wedding, I had lunch with Ginny and Mary. A few years previous I would have expected Mary to be drawn and bitter at any wedding news, spinster-to-be that she was, but she actually seemed haughty, although perhaps she kept tossing her head to show off the new earrings she was wearing.

“Those are beautiful, Mary,” Ginny obliged.

“Aren’t they?” she breathed. “They were a gift from my employer.”

“Billik?” I said. “He makes that much money off fortune-telling?”

“The man has a gift,” she said. “He helps people, and they reward him in return.”

“Really? How so?”

“You remember how Martin Vzral was going to suffer from a competitor

”

“Yes, but He’'s dead now.”

“That’s beside the point. That family has made its own problems. The mother is a fool. She'’s holding onto that house of theirs. She would be better off to sell it to Herman. She can’t rattle around in there like the crazy old bat she is. It’s too bad, what happened to her family, but for goodness’ sake.”

“You’re trying to drive the Vzrals out of their home?” said Ginny. “What does Billik have to do with it?”

“I just keep records of finances,” Mary said. “The Vzrals owe everything they have to Herman. If it wasn'’t for him, they’d all be dead, or worse.”