don’t summon their clients to their offices to give them good news.
I had a feeling that the day was about to go downhill from here. I typed his address into my GPS and followed its directions with a sigh.
My agent, William Snipe, was in his seventies, but looked a good twenty to thirty years younger. I expected he would have been able to pay for a lot of work on his face. He used to be a good agent, but lately I’d been beginning to have my doubts. I had suspected that he had been lured away by clients who could make him much more money. And that would be fair enough, if he hadn’t neglected me.
The trouble was, I didn’t know of any other agents who handled clairvoyant mediums.
I took a right, as directed by my GPS, and silently told myself not to expect the worst. After all, things were looking up. Alum was alive, and for that I was more than grateful. I hadn’t been able to get my head around the fact. It seemed too good to be true. Of course, there was always the danger that he might not stay that way for too long.
With that depressing thought, my heart sank to my stomach.
I was in no better mood when I reached the parking center close to my agent’s office. It was a veritable labyrinth of gloom, complete with low ceilings, and I’m claustrophobic at the best of times. The other drivers attempting to navigate the labyrinth appeared angry and some were abusing each other, yelling out their windows and blasting their horns.
Just as I was in despair of finding a parking place, an elderly lady slowly reversed. I nipped in as fast as I could, only to attract the glares of another driver who had been making a beeline for the same place. I promptly decided that next time I visited my agent, I would park several blocks away. It would be better to walk a few miles in the heat than have to negotiate this gloomy tight parking garage.
I found myself on the top floor of the mall, and I had to negotiate bustling crowds before I found my way to William’s office. It also was on the top floor, and had the not so enticing view of a brick wall outside the only window. My agent’s receptionist looked like she had swallowed a bucket load of lemons. Nevertheless, she told me to go straight in.
William narrowed his eyes when he saw me. “Sit down, Prudence,” he said as he attempted to smile. I held my breath, wondering what was coming next.
He wasted no time coming to the point. “Prudence, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Some of your booked venues have suggested that they might be canceling.” He folded his arms, leaned back in his chair and studied me.
I was somewhat confused. “Are they canceling or not?” I asked him.
He picked up his pen and tapped it against his chin. “I don’t know quite yet,” he said. “I was hoping to have the answer for you by today, but I’m expecting to hear from them at some point. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear.” He took a deep breath, and continued. “It’s just that there are so many international clairvoyant mediums coming to town, and New Zealanders as well.”
New Zealanders were international, but I didn’t point that out. After all, I wasn’t the Get The Facts Right Police.
“Is that the only reason?” I asked him.
He nodded. “Yes, and there are also more clairvoyant mediums than ever doing shows. Why, there are about ten of them doing the circuit in Newcastle at the moment. That’s too many of them to make a living for everyone. There’s an oversupply of clairvoyant mediums at the moment.”
I rubbed my temples. I could see the writing on the wall, and I didn’t know what else to do. I’d been making a living, a secure if not a great living, as a clairvoyant medium for some years now and I didn’t know what else I could do. I didn’t know what sort of businesses would employ someone of my age. I couldn’t type to save myself, and I’d be no good in sales. I was also mathematically challenged. Really, all I was good at was being a
Ellen Kottler, Jeffrey A. Kottler, Cary J. Kottler