Psychic ability -- Fiction; Science fiction; Social workers -- Fiction
The room was silent as the gypsy woman brought all her knowledge and
experience into play. Finally she looked at Mrs. Wladek and said: "A
very powerful curse has been put upon you. I can't help you."
"The Church will help me!" Mrs. Wladek screamed. "They have the power to
exorcise--"
"Do not speak to me of churches," the gypsy woman shouted.
Mrs. Wladek shook her head. "You, who steal my money, who steal the
bread from my old mouth without pity--"
"A woman must live," Marya Proderenska said, with great dignity.
* * * * *
The housekeeper had said Father Seador was at supper. This did not make
a difference. Mrs. Wladek's problem was certainly serious enough to
interfere with any man's supper. Father Seador was overweight in any
case; should he miss the entire meal it would not do him any harm. Marie
Wladek had a problem, and a serious one; let him miss his supper. It was
his job to help people.
But Father Seador would certainly not be in the best of moods.
He was not.
He arrived with his face set in firm lines of disapproval. Mrs. Wladek
got up from her chair and curtsied toward him, being very careful of her
old bones. He nodded.
"Rudi in trouble again?" he said at once, taking a chair.
Mrs. Wladek sat herself down slowly. When she was settled, she looked
over at the middle-aged man. "Rudi has a job."
"A job? A job?" Father Seador blinked. "That's fine. That's certainly
good news."
"So you think," Mrs. Wladek said crisply.
"Well, of course it's good news," Father Seador said.
"Responsibility ... steady income ... Mrs. Wladek, I'm sure this has
made you very happy, but if you'll pardon me." Father Seador stood up.
"I'm in the middle of--"
"Wait," Mrs. Wladek said. "This is not what I have come to talk to you
about. It is _why_ he has taken a job. It is _why_ I will be taking a
job."
"You?" Father Seador seemed incapable of speech. "Well, I--"
"I am bewitched," Mrs. Wladek said. "A curse is upon me."
"A curse? Well--" Father Seador stopped and cleared his throat. He sat
down again. He blinked. At last he said: "What's wrong, Mrs. Wladek?"
"I have told you," she said. "A curse. A curse. I want you to exorcise
this witch that has put on me a hex."
"Exorcise? Curse?" Father Seador coughed. "I'm sure you must be
mistaken, or--"
"Mistaken? I am not mistaken. I tell you there is a curse upon me."
The parlor was very quiet for a long time. At last Father Seador said:
"If you really believe you've been hexed, you'd better give me all the
details. When did you feel this ... this curse put upon you?"
"This morning," Mrs. Wladek said.
"And what kind of curse is this? I mean, what effect has it had?"
Mrs. Wladek's voice was as hard as iron. "It has made my son take a job.
It has made me want to look for a job. In time, I will not be able to
fight the curse, and I will take a job. And then--"
"I don't see anything wrong about that," Father Seador said mildly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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