Weekend Fiction - Oracle’s Conversation

Here is chapter 6 of my science-fiction serial Oracle.  I actually finished this chapter ahead of schedule.  Please feel free to offer any comments, suggestions or feedback.  Thanks!

Chapter 6; Oracle’s Conversation

“It’s Cyrus, right?” after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Melanie decided to break the ice.

“Yes, Cyrus… I'm Cyrus,” unsure what to say next, he continued; “it's nice to see you again.”

The strained conversation was interrupted by the return of the waitress.

“Are y’all about finished with your pie?”

“Yes, and it was great, just like my aunt said.”  Melanie responded.

“Oh, was that your aunt?” asked the waitress, “she's nice; a little bossy though.”

Melanie giggled.  “I guess you could say that.”

“Ya know; I'm awfully sorry about that, sometimes I just call ‘em like I see ‘em and put my foot in my mouth.”

“Don't worry about it; she was being bossy tonight.”  Melanie reassured her.

“I'll just leave the two of you to finish your coffee.” said the waitress, walking away.

Now that the waitress had broken the ice, Cyrus felt more comfortable.  “So, how long have you lived with your aunt?”

“About 2 years now; I moved here for work right after college.”

“She seems nice, sometimes a bit confused though.”

Melanie frowned slightly.  “She had a minor stroke about a year-and-a-half ago; she’s doing really well considering.”

Cyrus was seemingly lost in his thoughts for a moment, and then spoke.  “She’ll be doing better after she starts her new medication.”

“What new medication?”

“The medication her doctor prescribed at her appointment in 6 mon- …” Cyrus’ words trailed to a halt; “I, uh, I shouldn’t say anything else; I’ve said too much already.”

“No, it’s alright; go on, please.” prompted Melanie.

“I really don’t like talking about these types of things…  I just can’t do it; don’t ask me to, please.”

Melanie was beginning to get angry, “Why not?” she demanded.

“Because she’s going to die!”  Heads turned as Cyrus blurted, more loudly than he had intended.

“How could you know that; how could anyone?”

“I’ve seen it! “ Cyrus pointed to his head, “Up here!”

Melanie responded with one word, spoken firmly, “When?”

“I, I don’t know…”  Cyrus paused, “not for another 10 or 15 years.”

“How do you know you’re not wrong?”  Melanie asked.

“I never have been.” Cryus spoke clinically, without emotion.

“How do you do it?”  Melanie still sounded incredulous.

“I don’t know,” Cyrus continued, “but I hate it.”

“How can you say that?  You have a gift, it’s wonderful.”

“No, you don’t understand…” Cyrus searched for the right words, “Everyone is going to die; and I can see it, when, how…”

“What about me?”  Melanie pressed.

“I don’t know…” Cyrus paused, “It different with you; I can’t tell you your future.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I can’t; I don’t know why.”  Cyrus didn’t know what else to say.  “I just can’t see anything when I look at you; I can’t see anything but… you.”

Melanie was determined to solve the mystery; “Has this ever happened before; with anyone else?”

“No, it’s never happened with anyone else… well; no one else but me.” Cyrus confessed.

Melanie started to respond, but there didn’t seem to be anything else to say.  Cyrus spoke next.  “We should go, it’s about to get pretty crowded in here.”

He got up from the table and Melanie followed his lead.  As they reached the register, Melanie reached for her wallet.  “Let me, please;” Cyrus asked, “I don’t get to spend money very often.”  As he signed his name on the credit card slip, nobody noticed Cyrus adding a $1000 tip.

“Goodnight ya’ll” the waitress said, as yet unaware of her good fortune.

As they walked out, a crowd of around 20 people, freshly emerged from the theatre next door entered the restaurant.  “Can I give you a ride back to your… car?”  Melanie faltered as Cyrus’ car pulled up.  Her confusion grew as he went to the driver’s side door.

“No thanks; it looks like I’ve got a ride already.”

“I guess I’ll see you later then; goodnight.”

“Take care, Melanie.”

Cyrus closed the door.  “Ezra, let’s go home.”

“Very good sir.”