The Album: Book One Read Online Free Page B

altered. Free will, dear,” Madame Clarice addresses Natalie, “is your greatest gift. You will be rewarded with an eternity of stars. And you,” she tilts her head at me, “you have an energy that is complex yet simplistic. Your aura is a contradiction – only one man will be able to interpret your psyche.”
    I place my arm around Natalie’s shoulders as she wipes back her tears. This is quite possibly the strangest moment we’ve ever shared, and I’m dying to know what Nat thinks about all this.
    “What’s in the bottle?” Natalie asks.
    The psychic hands the wrapped bottle to Natalie and smiles compassionately. “The bottle, dear, contains hope. It will give you the power to dream. And for you,” she looks at me with sympathy, “you will find the connection between impulse and purpose. Look for balance in the perfect song.”
    Wow.
    “Okay, girls, that’s all I got! Seventy-five dollars cash or credit but I charge a service fee of $3.95 if you use Discover.” Madame Clarice walks over to a fanny pack and a handheld credit machine as Nat digs in her oversized bag for cash. I take forty dollars from my wallet and add it to Nat’s eighteen. We charge the rest on my emergency MasterCard, which I’m sure Dad will flip over when he gets the statement, but this is sort of an emergency.
    “Thank you so much, Madame Clarice. Besides the fat ass and the whiskers, I’m embracing my future.” Natalie jokes.
    “Me, too,” I mumble.
    “You are more than welcome. Happy birthday, dear. Cancers are my favorite people.” She smiles sincerely and leads us to the door.
    In the dark, starless night, we start our drive back to my house. We’re both uncharacteristically quiet and pensive, neither of us certain about what we just experienced. Natalie lights another cigarette and I lower the radio to get her opinion. She is the most straightforward thinker I know, and always challenges my romantic idealism.
    “Well? What do you think it all means?” I ask.
    “Huh? Oh, I don’t know. What does anything mean? What do the lyrics to Pink Floyd mean? We’re both destined to grow some trees – whatever the fuck that is. I avoid nature at all costs, so maybe she saw a money tree?” Natalie blows a puff of smoke and coughs. “She did say I will talk to the stars and you will sing with pride or whatever, so our dream of being famous will happen!” Natalie tosses the cigarette out the window and digs for her gum.
    “Don’t you think it’s weird that she specifically said I will find love when I’m twenty-five?”
    “I guess, but Chloe, the woman was wearing sweatpants and a head scarf. And that bottle she gave me was empty. Don’t interpret every little detail as truth.”
    I raise the volume on the radio, trying to appear as unaffected as my cousin, but the truth is, I don’t want Nat to hear my rampant imagination. Madame Clarice vaguely assured me that everything would be great . . . I will have a music career that I’m proud of. I will find my true love because of my purposeful spontaneity. This is good news, I can basically plan to be impulsive . . . pass up on the annoying, childish relationships and float from meaningless job to job, just hanging on for the right moment. Simply waiting will prepare me for my future . . . and those impetuous actions will bring me joy . . . and he’s waiting for me . . . tall, handsome and quiet.

Chris

“I saw the sign and it opened up my mind.”
    ~The Sign, ACE OF BASE

Christopher Brooks
    aka Ace of Base
Sigma Chi Pledge Class ’94
    July 4, 1996
Evanston, Illinois
    I T’S FUCKING HOT. If I were a Yankee like my roommate, I would pat my brow and say something charming like: my, it’s stifling . . . let’s resign to the patio for some refreshments . But I’m not – I’m a Texan, and we say things like: phew boy, it’s so hot I could pull a baked tater from the ground.
    I do have an image to uphold.
    “Shit bro, can it get any hotter?” Frenchy