How to Answer An Omen

In truth, Clarissa hadn’t really been in the mood for Chinese food anyway, which was unusual in itself because she loved Chinese food. When she was just eight years old, she used to beg her mom to take her to the Dragon Dumplings restaurant by leaving its menus in conspicuous locations. But in spite of her reluctance, they pulled up to the restaurant with little ceremony. Clarissa’s mom had called her friend Louisa, who was already inside, waving at them through the darkly-tinted windows.

Louisa greeted Clarissa with a big hug, pulling her in with more strength than a barely five-foot woman should have. Clarissa squeezed back, trying to match her enthusiasm.

“Oh I’m so happy to see you, dearie.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as her eyes became bright with conspiratorial gossip. “Marianne, you have to look over my shoulder at that man with the large hat.”

With as much covertness as could be managed in the dimly lit restaurant, Clarissa and her mother peeked over Louisa’s shoulder. Behind her was a man in a wide-brimmed purple fedora that seemed so comically large that it seemed to reach the ends of his shoulder. He was a large man with legs so long that they crowded across the space under the table where his companion sat.

“Funny how no one’s staring at him.” Clarissa whispered, trying to play Louisa’s game. Her mother’s friend often took too much interest in the strangers around them, especially their appearance. But although Clarissa didn’t care in the slightest about another restaurant goer’s hat, she knew Louisa was unlikely to leave it alone if no one bantered with her about it.

“I know.” Louisa grinned with hushed excitement. “Where does one even get a yellow hat like that?”

Clarissa blinked, turning back to the man. He remained in the same position, conversing with head lowered, the decidedly purple hat covering his face. She opened her mouth to question Louisa, but she was already ushering them to sit.

Clarissa opened her own menu, shaking the mention of the hat from her mind. Maybe she had misheard Louisa. The woman surely talked fast enough that sometimes it took a minute for Clarissa to follow. The menu was unchanged and offered several dishes such as oyster fried rice that she was quite sure had never been ordered. Many people in the rural plains of South Dakota didn’t like their chances that the oysters would still be good by the time they made it to their small town.

Louisa ended up what she usually ordered with a slight variation on her drink order to no one’s surprise while Clarissa and her mother decided to split one order of duck and one of dumplings.

“Clarissa, you know what’s hip these days. Tell me, how do you think I would look in a yellow hat like that gentleman’s?” Marianne asked as they plates of food arrived, their smell nearly distracting Clarissa so much that she missed the question.

“I think it would look nice,” She responded slowly. “But what about a purple hat?”

“No, I rather like that yellow one he’s wearing. I’m just worried that it wouldn’t be a good match for my face shape. Marianne, what do you think?”

As the babbling continued, Clarissa let her gaze slide back to the man in question, the bright purple hat still adorning his head. Only this time, his eyes were on her. Clarissa quickly returned her attention to her plate, embarrassed at having been caught staring.

For the rest of the dinner, she could feel his eyes in her direction, but whenever she glanced his way, he was always looking somewhere beyond her or to the side. Louisa and her mother continued chatting about everything and nothing, hardly noticing Clarissa’s lack of participation. There wasn’t another mention of the hat, but Clarissa could see the purple in her peripheral.

“Clarissa, open your fortune cookie.” Her mother sighed, exhausted by her friend and the endless stream of conversation.

It had always been her favorite part as a little kid, and she had truly believed in every fortune she had received. But now, the little paper shook in her hands.

Don’t trust the man in the purple hat.

Her eyes slid to the side, but the man had disappeared.

“What does it say?” Marianne asked, leaning forward as if to look at it in her hands.

The paper crumpled beneath her fingers as Clarissa forced a smile. “It says that if I work hard, I’ll have good grades.”

“Well, that bodes well for those college apps.” Her mother drawled as she reached for her purse. “Marianne, it’s been lovely, but Clarissa has a lot of homework she has to finish.”

Clarissa nodded along, but her eyes kept falling back to the table where the man with the purple hat had been. “Mom, I’m just going to go to the bathroom before we leave.”

Her mom had barely nodded before Clarissa took off towards the bathroom. Maybe she just needed to splash some water on her face, or maybe she needed to get tested for color blindness. Alone, in the positively disgusting bathroom, she unfolded the fortune cookie paper still crumpled in her hand. The words remained.

She should tell her mom. Maybe in the car after they were away from Louisa. Then her mom could book her a psychiatrist.

As she exited the bathroom, there was a low voice to her left.

“Do you like my hat?”

Clarissa turned slowly as she looked up at him. She clutched the piece of paper in her hand.

“There is a legend about it. About a man who could slip between worlds, bending light to his will. Do you want to hear a story?” He grinned, baring a mouth full of teeth that felt like a rottweiler's.

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.” She left, hurrying through the restaurant and out the door to where her mom was waiting and didn’t look back.