It’s just beyond me…

It’s just beyond me… (And it just seems like plain nonsense…)
By Marta A Dunphy-Moriel
Prologue:  How this strange story started….
A few years ago, a mad lady called Ginny, (short for Guinevere, or for long for Gin, more like, as it was the only thing that old lady enjoyed drinking…) told me that I had a special gift. Something about Mars aligning with Jupiter the day I was born and that since then and until the four riders of the Apocalypse come to cut up sinners’ head’s off my name would be great. (By the way, I was totally freaked out with that load of tosh and then she has the cheek to go on and show me the Death Tarot card, that blasted horrible picture has been haunting my nightmare’s for years!). Yes, I know that she was a total nut. Any way, if it wasn’t because this old lady told me all this rubbish with a straight face and that we were in my grand aunt Clotilde’s living room I swear I would have laughed my head off and left the room. But I’ve always been taught to be polite and all that and she was eighty eight years old… and she carried Tarot cards and a crystal ball in her flowery handbag… and she couldn’t remember what day it was… and to top it all off she was convinced she was the most powerful seer in history! So as you can see, it seemed rude to just leave her there. Poor thing.
Honestly, I didn’t believe a word she said (oh come on, you know you wouldn’t have believed it either! You would have to be a raving loony…) but it is true that since that very day the weirdest things have been going on in my life. Consequently and I can’t seem to figure out what is going on with my life, here I am, let’s see if you can give me a hand with this mess because I swear all of this is beyond me…
Where should I start? Oh, by the way and before we begin, I just want to thank you for listening… yes, I know you are my shrink and that I pay you an absolute fortune each month so that you put up with all the tosh I have to tell you, but… even so… thank you. You wouldn’t believe how much I need to tell someone about all these little things that are driving me crazy… I hope that someone as sensible as your are can figure out what on earth is going on in my life because all of this is beyond me…
Hopefully with your help I can sort my head out and start thinking straight… or maybe you will end up being as crazy as your patient.. Who knows? How exciting, I’m sure this is going to be so much fun!
Sorry about that, I keep on blabbing and I forget to get to the point. Time is money… and in this case, your time is my money and well, I haven’t got that much time to waste anyway, because you never seem to have enough time when you truly need it and it seems a pity to waste it when you have plenty of it.
So, I’m going to start by telling you about that first day… I remember it was a sunny Autumn day and Clara had promised to give me a CD which, by the way, I never got…
Chapter 1: The telephone call.
First session.
My friend Clara went head over heels when she heard about what had happened with Guinevere.
Clara was always that type of person, you know. The sort that likes vudu, tarot and whatnot. I remember she bought a book called “Amateur magic” when we were ten years old. It was written by some American author that swore it worked. We spent most of our summer holidays chopping up apples, burying bits of old cloth and chanting round the garden with Clara’s mum’s scented candles… I know… I know…
It wasn’t really surprising that Clara was so enthusiastic about Guinevere.
“I.. CAN’T… BELIEVE…IT! My friend is a seer!”
“Don’t be silly!”- I laughed as I kept an eye open for my mom whilst I lighted a cigarette.
“I’m not! The person who has told you really knows what she’s talking about!”
“Clara, Guinevere is a nut case… and you’re not far from being as mad as she is!”
“Guinevere? Not THE Guinevere? Guinevere Laterza?”
“I can’t believe you know who that old loony is!”- I laughed as I hastily put out my cigarette at the same time as a suspiciously “mother looking” figure turned the corner.
“Of course! I always read her articles in  “Destiny has no secrets”!”- I stared at her in disbelief but she didn’t seem to mind- “You have to introduce me to her! Please! AND she thinks you have the gift! Oh my Gawd! I think I’m fainting!”
Doctor, in your professional opinion do you really think that anything even vaguely sane can come out of things like this? I’m sorry, I know you told me to call you by your first name but with your white robe and all it seems a bit rude not to call you Doctor…
Anyway, after that conversation, Clara became extremely annoying. She kept asking me all these silly questions like lottery numbers, which team was going to win the next football match and other nonsense. I was right half of the time but she only seemed to remember when my predictions worked and conveniently forget when they didn’t work.
After a few weeks I discretely, and after that not so discretely, tried to give Clara the cold shoulder. I really wanted to tell someone what was going on but I couldn’t risk walking into another Clara. One friend who is bonkers is quite enough, thank you.
It all seemed to sort itself out after a while. One afternoon I started shivering while I was reading a manuscript a friend had sent me for the eleventh time and I had sworn I would read months ago.
At first, I thought the window was open but when got up to close it I found it was shut. I could not understand why on Earth I was shivering like mad.
Even the heap of woolly blankets my dad use to keep next to the sofa couldn’t take the icy chill away. I felt like I had been plunged into a freezing cold swimming pool.
It really strange… the room was getting colder and colder… the sun had suddenly disappeared behind some black clouds that had been threatening to pour down with rain all day.
It was so cold. I have never felt that cold again. It was as if each cell in my body had been frozen with nitrogen. My arms were  wrapped so tightly around my waist that I could hardly breathe under the pile of blankets. First my toes and then my legs got stiff. I couldn’t move.
I tried to cry out for help but my throat was dry and my voice croaked in an inaudible whisper. I stared coughing like mad when the telephone rang.
The call went on to voice-mail. A bleak voice historically mumbled…
Oh! Is that the time? Well, that was quick!
I will see you the same time next week. Thank you doctor. Goodbye.
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