Cassandra Complex

 Bernie was chatting to Dev. "I believe in angels and fairies and the miracles of the universe. It's such a fantastic place; I've travelled so much of it on the astral plane and once I travelled through the 5th dimension when the astral air traffic controllers were on strike.   I liked it that much that I named all of my children after bits of it.  Gemini, Apollo and Zodiac."

Dev made a noise to indicate that he was listening. He wasn't.  He was looking through paperwork, calculator in one hand, pen between his teeth.

Bernie continued to talk. "I have special powers. I can heal, foretell the future, prophesy the past, read minds and make things disappear. But I'm like Cassandra; no one ever believes me."

"I think I'll do an offer on mustard cream biscuits to see if we can shift a few.  We've got 60 cases of 200 still to sell.  I'll never buy knock-off label stock again," said Dev looking up from his notebook. "That Whines cream of potato soup isn't selling well either."

"You probably shouldn't have bought them. Let me do you a past prophesy reading," said Bernie, picking up a packet of salt. She drew a 13 pointed star on the floor, stood in the centre of it and incanted:

"Universe and cheese on toast,
talk to me oh past life ghost."

Bernie's body stiffened, her eyes closed and she appeared to grow a few inches.  A deep voice came from her mouth:

"Alf Roberts is my name.
Grocery management is my game.
Mustard creams - a bad idea.
I need to go, hope to see ya."

Bernie loosened up, her eyes opened wide, and she appeared to shrink a few inches.  "My contact advises you not to buy the mustard creams."

"What's the point of prophesying the past Bernie?  I already know that I shouldn't have bought the mustard creams but at the time I thought they were too good a deal to miss."

"Devendra - ours is not to reason why. Ours is to hear and sigh.  We must be grateful for the messages we receive from the universe and infinity.  I'm just a channel through which messages flow.  We shun the plane at our peril."

Kit came into the shop, and the temperature dropped two degrees.  He looked agitated, annoyed, distracted and angry. He always looked this way. "A bottle of red wine," he said. "I might need the empty bottle later."

Bernie looked Kit up and down.  He was easily 18 inches taller than she was, so this took some time.  

"Don't do it son."

"What? Don't do what Bernie?"

"I can read minds and I know what you're planning. You're planning to beat up Mick and arrest Brodie so that you can interview him under caution and find out if he can remember whether you or Mick fathered him."

"It's not that simple."

"Hey Bernie. Can't you prophesy the past to let him know who the father is?" asked Dev.

Bernie took two polished semi-precious stones from her bra and laid them on the shop counter.

"I'll try."

She placed herself in a trance by slowly rotating her hand over the stones.

"Wise wee stones, old as the hills,
Back to days of satanic mills."

The shop lights went out. Outside the sun shone but not as brightly as before, as if the rays were forcing their way through Coketown's air, serpents of smoke rose and trailed forever and ever. Little light lit the red and smoke blackened shop. The nearby canal ran black, so black that even a Victorian Richard Hillman would refuse to drive his horse and carriage into it. Bernie froze, the shop door opened.  A small figure entered. 

The figure vaguely smelled of cigars, whisky, money and knickers. "All right you lot, get back to work. And you..." the figure pointed at Kit.  "You're fired.  You were supposed to be delivering three thousand pairs of silk knickers to Dawson's but where were you?  You were too busy seeing that girl, getting her pregnant.  Yeah, you didn't know you had created life, a future worker for the bourgeoisie to exploit.  But I know everything. No one gets the better of me.  Just ask those girls in the factory.  Not Ivy, Ida nor Vera could get the better of me.  They tried but they couldn't do it, and neither can you sunshine. Kapice?  Now get out of my sight.  You still on for that golf match tomorrow Dev?"

The mysterious figure opened the door. It might have gone through the door, or it might have disappeared.  No one present could ever agree on what exactly how the figure - if it existed at all - spoke, or looked, or arrived or left.  What - if anything - had it said?

The lights came back on.  Bernie turned to face Kit. "Brodie is your son Zodiac. The stones made that clear."

"My name's Kit. Now give me the wine and I'll take a packet of these mustard creams."

"You'll regret the mustard creams Kit," said Bernie.

"Stop the mystic talk, Bernie.  No one can tell the future," said Kit.

"No darling. I'm not trying to tell the future. It's just those mustard creams are awful..."

"Awfully good.  You'll regret not buying two packets," interrupted Dev.  He never liked to miss a sale.

Kit paid and left the shop.

Dev let out a yelp.  

"When in my shop comes someone Rich
Both my thumbs begin to twitch

But they twitched too much and I've cut myself on this staple." 

He had caught his finger on a staple.  A tiny spot of blood appeared.  Bernie rushed over to him, and spoke quickly.  "Don't let your blood touch the star.  If you do, your karma will be corrupted and your chakra will be loosened."

Dev seemed frightened.  "What can I dooooooo?" he asked, elongating the last syllable as normal.  Bernie took from her pocket a box about 3 inches by 4 inches, and about 1 inch in depth. She flipped open the lid, which was hinged on the longer side. Inside were small cells, 7 cells across and 5 cells down.  Each cell contained a small crystal about half an inch in size.   She selected 5 crystals and placed them in the hand with the blooded finger.  She closed his hand and positioned her hands above his hand, but not touching.

"Crystals with your power to cure,
Make Devendra fit and pure".

He opened his hand and the bleeding had stopped.

Dev was joyous. "You've saved my life.  I didn't believe your crystals would help me."

"It's my Cassandra complex. No one ever believes me.  Now give me a bottle of gin and I'll pay your tomorrow."

"I don't do credit," said Dev.  "And I don't think you'll pay me for it tomorrow."

"Cassandra complex Devendra. Of course I'll pay."

Dev handed a bottle of gin to Bernie. 

"Thanks," she said.  "I need a drink now. I've used all of my super powers today.  Tara chuck."

Dev smiled.  Bernie had said she had five powers but he'd witnessed only four. He'd seen her foretell the future and prophesy the past.  She had read minds and healed his wound.  Then his smile vanished, as he looked at the space where the bottle of gin had been sitting.

Bernie had used all five powers that day.

She had made the bottle disappear.