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Gunther age 4, 8 years ago

 Gunther remembered everything the last time they saw a seer, which was less than a year ago. “I don’t know why you are wasting what little money we have on these people when we could be eating pizza instead.”Gunther did not trust any seer. It was obvious to her that the seers were just in it for the money. 

There was a soft breeze on a cool night with the scent of elephant ears confectionaries throughout. There were lights throughout glowing through the dark of the distant night illuminating the tents.

But this time was different than that carnival. They were going to a seer at a house. Gunther’s mother wouldn’t stop talking about ridiculous seer. For the last week her mother’s mind rarely wandered from the subject, and it was beginning to annoy Gunther. Sally did this. She knew it was going to rain. She promised a happy week. You are going to love her. 

Gunther may have been four, but she had a keen eye. Where they were going, at least it had walls.  This seer’s place of work was falling apart. It was bland, and she didn’t seem to make any effort to keep it up or make it look special in any way. There were no special painted mystical words on the outside, any goofy tapestries, or any special decorations, aside from the hanging luminaries with candles in them. 

In the distance, before they got closer to the seer’s house Gunther could already see all the trash strewed all over the lawn. The house looked pretty good from a distance. Although there was nothing special about it, It was brightly colored in red and green. But as they parked at the curb, Gunther had to wonder what was keeping the place up at all. It looked like a good gust could have knocked the place over. As they walked closer, Gunther noticed the house’s outside walls were rotting and not kept up well.

Small chunks of painted wood littered the ground just outside the walls of the establishment, and were also rotting on the ground, along with the wood that was leftover on the house. Whoever painted it, hadn’t even sanded it, first. Trash cans sat sideways at the edge of the lawn near the road, dripping with goo and had trash hanging from and around them. It looked as if someone hadn’t made an effort to walk up to place the trash in the cans. The trash may have been thrown  from a distance, the person may have missed, and she just left it there. Considering what trash Gunther did see in the cans, this seer was not a healthy person. 

 The lids had looked like they blew across the lawn, and were plastered up against the front wall of the outside of the house. 

Gunther grabbed the tiny handle to the screen door. The door sprang open and it felt like it was barely hanging on to the house. It squealed as she opened it, and it was obvious the spring needed to be either replaced or oiled. Gunther sneezed from the accumulating dust on the screen.

The house couldn’t have been less than one hundred and fifty years old, and the screen door looked as if it had never been replaced. Even the spring on the door shed rust into the air as the screen door opened.

The main door was made of hard, heavy wood. To open that one, Gunther’s mother had to shove it once it was opened for more than two feet. Books and candy wrappers were piled high behind that door, and as she opened the door, she had to push hard to shove them backward. 

“This is crazy. They’re all fakes anyway.”

“I know it’s not real.” Gunther’s mother said, grunting as she pushed the hardwood door out of the way. Once she got in, she shoved some of the piles of books out of the way with her foot so Gunther could get bye. “None of them are real. I know that. Sometimes I wonder if most people who come here know that. But it’s fun. It’s kind of like playing the lottery. I do it just to see how close I can get, and so I can feel good. I don’t actually expect to win.”

Gunther could tell her mom looked terrible, and needed sleep. She looked so tired, she was surprised her mother could even drive. Her mother always looked tired, but today was worse than others. Her hair was frazzled, and she had black lines under her eyes. 

After entering the seer’s house, Gunther first guessed she lived there. The rooms were all open and connected, so she could see a bed toward the back. There were stacks of books everywhere, and piles of newspapers and candy wrappers sprawled throughout. There was even a pile of empty soda bottles. The oddest part about the whole thing was even though there were messes, they were structured messes. The soda bottles were all piled together, and the piles of books were organized by subject. The house had a rotten smell. 

The carpet, which covered the inside of the house, was heavily worn down, and it was obvious it was well used because the edges were thicker, fluffier, and lighter than the center of the carpet’s path, which was dirty, flat, worn in, and darker. Gunther doubted the seer ever vacuumed that carpet, and she understood why the screen on the screen door was so dusty. 

The interior of the house stunk of burning incense. It didn’t do its obvious job of covering the smell up. Instead it added more stink to it.

The walls of the home were old looking and stained, and even the neon ‘open’ sign, which glowed from the outside, albeit slightly sideways, was obviously a fake, and not neon at all. Nothing was real about this seer, even the seer, herself, appeared fake, but not like other seers.

There was something odd about this seer, as seers were concerned. She didn’t seem to care about anything, even her home. She made no effort to trick anyone. She offered no illusions to her reality in being a seer. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that Gunther’s mother had said this woman was a seer, Gunther wouldn’t have known she was a seer.

Gunther listened as the seer spoke to the current guest with her thick accent. The more Gunther listened to her chat up the guest in the opposing room, the more she began to realize she was better at this game than cleaning. This seer was kind and said all the right things to make this woman comfortable.

She didn’t just tell the guest what she wanted to hear, or what was obvious. She comforted the guest.

And when she looked at her, she often wasn’t looking at her, or even at her things. As they sat at the table with the crystal ball in the middle, the lady across from the seer tried to see something in it. It wasn’t a small ball. It wasn’t even glass. In fact, it was an oversized clear piece of round, hard plastic, the size of a small beach ball. It looked strange sitting on the table on its stand. It was obvious it was too large for the table, or even that it was a crystal ball. Gunther kept expecting it to fall off the table. 

This seer didn’t act fake at being fake. She was the first real fake seer Gunther had ever seen, though she had only seen a couple. The ball was obviously not glass, but at the same time, it wasn’t used much as a set piece. It appeared she may have put it there because people may have expected for it to be there.

“What about my ex-husband?” Said the guest.

“That’s what you are worried about? There are so many other problems, and you worry about the one thing you have no control over.” The seer had a deep  Louisiana draw. It was obvious to Gunther she must have been from the south.

“Well… I worry about him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s crazy.”

“So? How does that effect you?”

“Well, He just makes me crazy.”

“No. You make you crazy. Stop thinking about what you can’t control. This is a big world with many more things you can at least control a little bit that are much larger than your ex. Forget what you can’t control completely. You ave much to be worried about other than your Ex. Get over it!”

The lady who was across the table leaned back and crossed her arms. “You won’t let me get away with anything, will you?” She grinned, and reached in her pocket. She pulled out a wad of cash. She got up and handed the seer the wad of cash. 

The seer then got up. She nearly looked like she would keel over. She was shaped like a ripe pear. She had tiny breasts, but it amazed Gunther that this lady’s legs and tiny feet could hold the seer’s own weight. In fact, it could barely do that. She leaned on the table with the ball on it to get up. She got up and hobbled to a cash drawer across the room. It was obvious she was not well.  She leaned forward toward the drawer, and opened it and a wad of cash popped up.  Some of it nearly fell out, but the seer stuck her hand with the cash the lady gave her over the mound, and shoved it all into the drawer. It was obvious she made no effort to keep the drawer organized. 

The seer immediately slammed the drawer closed, trapping the cash in the drawer before it could pop out. She gave a satisfied look. The seer appeared to  take pleasure in her messes. There was something about her disorganization that comforted her presence. Most people needed structure, of some sort. But this woman seemed to strive on disorganization, especially hers. The disorganization gave Gunther a sense of satisfaction that Gunther had never felt before. 

The seer gave Gunther’s mother a come here wave. Gunther and her mother climbed over trash and piles of books to reach the table with the fake crystal ball on it. 

Her mother sat down in the chair, and Gunther stood next to her. There was no second seat for Gunther to sit in.

The seer sat, still grinning with no teeth showing, and looked into Gunther’s mother’s eyes, and then into Gunther’s eyes. She stopped grinning.  

“This is my daughter, Gunther.”

“I know who she is.” The seer’s accent had changed. It was flat and bland and cold. There was no accent.

Gunther frowned. This was stupid.

The seer put her hands together and grinned softly for what seemed like nearly a minute, staring Gunther down. She looked at her so virulently, Gunther was beginning to wonder if there was something on her face.  The seer said nothing at first. She raised her head as if she was trying to get another perspective, but kept staring at Gunther. She made strange facial gestures while staring at her, as if there was something strange on Gunther's face. The seer kept shifting the angle of her head, as if she were trying to hear something very quiet. 

Then she finally spoke directly to Gunther. "He's here, isn't he." It wasn't a question. The seer sounded quizzical and interested. The seer didn’t smile or laugh. She just stared at Gunther, waiting for what Gunther assumed was to see something in Gunther’s facial gestures.

Gunther grabbed her mother, Geraldine's hand. Geoffrey, in Gunther's mind, was only her friend, and no one else could see him. But the seer knew he was there. 

Gunther’s mother tightened her grip on Gunther’s hand. “It’s OK Gunther, this is all part of it.”

“It’s OK child, I’m not going to hurt you,” The seer took a deep breath. “Do you know what a Changer is?” The seer’s false accent had completely disappeared many minutes ago.

“No?” Gunther didn’t know what to say. She was only four, and even though she could handle many things at this point, she was flummoxed.

“Everyone has a choice to be the best or worst version of who they are. We are all born with a filter. Some of us have a strong filter. Those people have very little potential for making sweeping changes in the world, and are destined to make changes on a microscopic scale either way.” The seer leaned forward and shifted her stare back on Gunther. "These people are as paramount as anyone else in the world, but they usually fit into the woodwork. If the social world were a web, they would be on the outer connecting parts of the spiral in a spider web." The seer  pulled her chair up closer to the table. “Then there are those who have the potential to do great or horrible things. Their filter is thinner. What they can offer the world is all up to them. Some of the greatest people… Einstein, Newton… even horrible leaders… they could have gone either way but subconsciously chose to use their thinner filter for the greater good or for the worse. These people are like the inner connecting threads of the spiral in a spider web. Some of these people see the world as irrelevant. They get angry and mean. They don’t care about people, especially people on the outer fringes of the web because they don’t see the potential in everyone. They don’t see what or how everyone is important to make this reality what it is.”

“It sounds like people with small filters are potentially sociopaths.” Said  Geraldine.

The seer shifted in her seat, frowned, and crossed her arms. Her seat creaked below her. “There is no such thing as a sociopath, though, they are often unkind people who have lost their way. Calling people sociopathic is a human ideal that was created as an excuse to understand what we can’t about people, and to blame them without helping them find their full potential and help them solve the issues they may have.” 

“What are you saying?” Said Geraldine.

“Beware.” The seer leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms again. “Raise your child well. The future of humanity may be on your shoulders, Geraldine. Wonderful things may come from your child, or horrible things. She sees what others cannot. She may be the bringer of light, or the destroyer of worlds. Your child has no filter, and she may be too smart for her own good, a dangerous mix.” The seer was now a completely different person than she was a moment ago with the last woman. Before, the effects of the world seemed irrelevant to her. But now she seemed so focused on Gunther and her mother, it was starting to scare Gunther. She turned to Gunther. “And you, sometimes, when you get picked on, you must see the greater picture and either walk away or make the best of a situation. You have the propensity to do great damage, or alter your social surroundings for the better. You can’t make happen what the world does not potentially want to happen. But the anthropological world potentially wants many potential things[1]. And those things can be made to happen by your choice.” Before, with the last women, the seer was light hearted and seemed not to care about anything. Gunther wanted to be closer to the seer, but now Gunther was finding herself both scared of this woman, disillusioned, and even more interested in her. The seer’s personality changed from a wondrous fantasy movie to one of a science fiction horror movie. Before, the seer seemed to care about nothing. But now she was deadpan.

 Geraldine stood up, and kicked her chair backwards a foot or two. “What is this? I brought my child here for a bit of light fun.” Her voice came out more intense and louder than before.

“I’m sorry, but sometimes important stumbling blocks get in the way of a lighter experience, and they must be dealt with before we can move on to more entertaining subjects.”

 Geraldine grabbed Gunther's hand tighter and stood up. “I’m not paying for this.” 

“There is no charge. Care for your child like the world depends on it, because someday, it might.”

 Gunther was already holding Geraldine's hand, but now Geraldine was holding it, possibly, even tighter than she meant to. Gunther's hand was squished in her mother's hand, and hurting, and Gunther could feel her mother’s sweat building up in it. Geraldine looked at Gunther. “Let’s go. We’ll see a movie instead, something fun, OK?” But Geraldine didn’t look like she was ready to see a movie.  She spoke quieter and quicker with a slight angry thrust in her voice to Gunther. She yanked Gunther's arm, lightly, toward the door.

Gunther stood there in a world of confusion. Should she listen to the seer? Or was this seer the charlatan Gunther had originally thought she was? Something had changed in the seer. She sounded so self confident that she very nearly seemed real. She had already changed once when Gunther’s mother sat at the table, but a moment ago she was calm and not at all panicky. Now she was unhinged and more direct and focused than ever. There was something deeper to her than truth, more reality. Her emotions were saying something. It didn't seem to matter if she was telling the truth or not anymore. It felt to Gunther that what mattered was there was more to be learned by this person. There was a factual reality that she needed to learn about that truths couldn't offer, and even if they could, those truths would have been irrelevant. 

“Child,” the seer was now calling across the room. “You must consciously choose how you will act with every choice you make. You may be four, but you are mentally much older, and you need to think older.” It was at this point where Gunther wondered how the seer knew of her age. “Every time someone acts, you must not react. You must choose the option that would create the best long term action on a greater scale then any human reaction can offer." Her voice was louder now. " You are the center of the web. You can shift everyone else on this human web. You must think sociologically, culturally, and anthropologically. You are too important to make any mistakes!"

“But I don't understand!” 

“Come see me later,” said Sally to Gunther.

“Quiet!” Her mother yanked Gunther's arm and pulled her toward the door.

“You will understand! Come back! And I have more to tell you, important things! Don’t leave!” The seer called from across the room.  “And you will have to make these decisions. You must hold the anger in and focus your energies elsewhere. You are different than the rest. You must choose every time.  You must never choose, emotionally. You are far too dangerous. You have too much potential.” The seer’s accent had changed again by now. She had no accent, and she was forcing her words out. She had left behind that southern illusion of hers completely by now. She now sounded completely loud, flat, panicky, and unbalanced.

“Don’t talk to my child!” Said  Geraldine. “Stay away from her.” 

The seer stepped forward, and knocked the chair behind herself over. She tried to move toward  Geraldine and Gunther, but her body was too large, slow, and unbalanced, and her feet were too small. She tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground. The entire home shook.

“If you don’t stop talking to her, I will call the police.” By this time  Geraldine and Gunther were nearly out the door. She was holding Gunther, tightly, by the wrist and dragging her out. Gunther could feel her mother's hand sweating against her wrist. Her hand was hurting. Gunther saw the Seer fall and Gunther tried to lean back further to see if the seer was OK and help her, but  Geraldine had a firm grasp on Gunther’s wrist and was pulling her away. 

Gunther wanted to stay longer by this point, but she had no control over her mother's decision to leave.  Gunther needed to know more. There was something here. The seer knew something and Gunther needed to understand what it was. This was becoming so curious and important to her, she negated all her fears and stereotypes. This woman may not have been a real seer, but she was a real somebody who had information Gunther needed to know. 

“Gunther, it’s not real.”  Geraldine huffed as she pulled Gunther toward the door.  “None of this is real. Let’s go!”

 The seer called out from the ground, reaching toward Gunther. “Child. Changer! Think! Use your mind, not your anger and emotions! Lives rest on your choices. The web can shift based on your choices!” She yelled from the floor, shaking, reaching her arms out. “Find me, Changer, find me!”