Gypsy Woman

In cities all across America, we have these Super Malls. They're not just your regular malls,these are super-sized. Super in stature, super in square footage, super in retailers and selection, super in everyway.

Some people, many senior citizens, use Super Malls as indoor walking tracks. And for good reason, they're safer there than walking many streets. When it's rainy, snowing or overheated outside, a Super Mall remains at a constant temperature inside. A city unto its own.

I remember reading somewhere that Malls are the museums of the 21st century. I wouldn't disagree with that. In the collective American need for consumption -- which feeds restless, insecure, or addictive egos -- malls are the places some go to just to look, or to buy.
Some go for retail therapy.
Others go just to play.
Or prey.

It was in one such Super Mall when I with one of the rare private clients I took on as a Private Investigator. Usually, I work for and directly through attorneys. This allows me a much better level of protection on a legal and physical basis. It also affords me a much more reliable means of payment.

In Zelda's case, I was a newbie Investigator and took her case on because I wanted work and had just placed an ad in a local paper to launch my biz. Zelda was one of many Gypsies that both read that publication and had need for a P.I.'s services.

In Zelda's case, I would be her Criminal Defense Investigator.

She and her husband hired a Private Attorney, though she specifically asked that I be paid directly by her and her husband in cash, which I had no problem with.
I would still issue them an invoice, I said.
And I would report the earnings to the IRS.
They were comfortable with both that. And the sizable retainer fee I requested up-front.
It was bigger than usual because -- after all -- they were Gypsies.
I didn't trust them as far as I could spit. Which has never been very far.

I've traveled the world.
I 've been with friends when they were robbed by Gypsies.
I also know there is Gypsy blood in my ancestral pathways.
So if it takes one to know one... and you've seen one in action... you come to learn that the Gypsies are a tribe that sticks together, exclusive of all outsiders, who are viewed as potential prey or marks.
People like me, those of a utilitarian nature, are neutral and/or considered allies until the worm or tide turns.
I am not judging Gypsy culture, just calling it as I saw and see it.

So now I will cut to the chase, which would be this case.

Zelda(a pseudonym) and her husband, Alphie (also a pseudonym and also a Gypsy) had a psychic stand at a Super Mall where they sold crystals and gemstones, books on all things spiritual, jewerly, long beaded necklaces, earrings, tarot cards, icons, colorful scarves. It was one of those booths that runs down the center of the Mall.

The star attraction at their booth in the Super Mall, however, was my client Zelda -- who positioned herself more like a Psychic than a Gypsy. Zelda was in her early 50's, quite attractive and heavily made up with thick blue eyeshadow, dark eyeliner and bright red lips. She had long, black, curly, thick hair flowing down her back. It was tucked under her colorful head wrap. I wondered if it was a wig.

She wore layers of golden necklaces blended with layers of crystal necklaces. Both her wrists were covered in bracelets. The left side of her nose was pierced with a diamond. On every finger, a jeweled ring. If I worked for Central Casting and I was looking for an upscale Gypsy matriarch, that would be Zelda.

Zelda's husband Alphie was about 3 inches shorter than Zelda and had that Napoleon thing going on -- built up, bulging muscles, tough guy attitude, aggressive posture and approach. He did most of the talking.

There was a sign at their booth where we met that read: "Psychic Readings and Spiritual Protection."

People came from all over to sit at the little red velvet table attached to their mall booth while Zelda did Tarot Reading or Palm reading for $35. a pop back then.

Before people did a reading, they signed a form, a disclaimer, that Alphie typed up saying there are no guarantees and people can not ask for their money back if they don't like the predictions.
They had all their paperwork filed with the city, Alphy told me they were working in a fully legal manner.
Or so it appeared.

One day, an evidently wealthy woman from a city out here called Bellevue came to visit Zelda in her Super Mall Booth.
This woman -- who was half human ingredients and half silicone, botox, restalyn and who knows what else -- had money to spare, no job, an affluent husband and a future she decided she wanted to to hear about when she first spotted Zelda's booth in the Super Mall.
She sat down for her first reading with Zelda and she was hooked.
Let's call this Bellevue woman, Liz.

So Zelda did a reading for Liz and it turned out everything Zelda said, was right.

Three days later, Liz came back for another reading, this time a Tarot and Palm reading.
That was when Zelda delivered some very bad news to Liz.

According to Zelda, Liz's husband was going to leave her.
Liz's beloved only child, her 24-year old daughter would lose her job and have a car wreck that would leave her unable to walk or have babies.
And Liz would develop more extreme heart problems that Zelda could tell, by the cards, had already started.

Liz was mortified, horrified and stymied.
"What do I do?" she asked Zelda.
"I can protect you," Zelda said in a slow and steady low voice.
"How?" asked Liz.
"Through my sacred ceremonies. I am touch with these forces. I can lay them to rest."
And so it began.

$90,000 dollars and 3 weeks later, Zelda and Alphie had provided Liz with a litany of bizarre ceremonies and twisted spells designed purely for protection of the self and loved ones. Each came with a price tag.

For instance, protecting her daughter would require $50,000. $25k upfront.
"The rest payable per treatment " they said.

They cast a spell to keep the daughter from losing her job.
There was another spell required to prevent the car accident.

A separate spell was summoned to cover the daughters reproductive parts in case Zelda's prediction about the daughter's reproductive problem was unrelated to the car accident that Zelda also predicted.

And of course, there was extra-special mojo, or magic -- and money -- required for the spells required to keep her husband from divorcing her.

And they'd need a very rare and costly form of magic to reverse the physical damage Zelda said had already been done to Liz's heart.

One year later, after Liz's family audit at tax time, Zelda and her husband were hit with criminal charges.

It appears Liz's husband discovered the missing money and he felt betrayed because Liz made such a huge financial decision without consulting him. He felt he couldn't trust her and divorced her.

Liz's daughter, meantime, had a car accident, not involving a tree but a drunk driver. She broke her neck. Lost her job. And Liz's daughter's fiance called off her marriage. The only good news was the prognosis that Liz's daughter would likely walk again and would be able to carry a fetus to term.

And after a CAT scan, it was discovered Liz's heart was perfect.There was never any damage to it.
So Liz and her daughter went to the police.
The police pressed charges.
And my job was to defend the Zelda and Alphie.

I could write a book about every aspect of this case. But this is a blog and I am not the fastest of writers. My goal is to get this up and read.
So I will sum things up this way, which are more like snapshot memories than a full flowing story.

I had been paid for my work when I handed my defense investigation case files to Zelda's husband Alphie, who gave them to their attorney.

I went to the trial, I was not asked to testify.
The only thing Alphie, Zelda's husband, told me at the trial, (his charges were dropped on a technicality) was that Zelda was suffering inhumane conditions in jail, was very depressed and was not allowed to wear underwear.

Zelda hung her head during the trial.
Without makeup and her wig she was nameless, faceless, just one more case number.
Zelda's attorney fell asleep during the trial.

The prosecutor and police detective and their witnesses, Liz's family, appeared quite believable.

Zelda's defense attorney, who based his arguments on the cultures and traditions of Zelda's Gypsy tradition... and the fact that Liz signed the disclaimer at the first Tarot treading... and the fact it was not Zelda's fault the spells failed... did not go over well with the jury.
Nor was the jury impressed by the fact that the defense attorney had so little enthusiasm for his client's case, he fell asleep during the trial.

Zelda lost and went to jail.
She was still hanging her head as she was led away in handcuffs.
Alphie, who sat beside me, got up without a word and exited the courtroom.

I didn't return for the sentencing.
I'd already moved to the next job.
Despite my loss on Zelda's case, the Gypsy community still liked me enough to employ me for an occasional case or two.

Years passed.

I was in Nordstrom's Rack, specifically the shoe department.
Someone tapped me on the back.
It was Zelda and next to her, Alphie. They both had wide grins on their faces as Zelda reached out and grabbed me in her arms.
I was stunned.

"Geesh Zelda, you look great!" I said, and she did.
She looked like she stepped right out of a Spa and into a Designer dress.
"Did three years," she said, "Just got out three weeks ago."
"Wow, "I said, reflecting on how quickly large parcels of time pass.

"You still doing readings?" I asked.
"Sure do," she answered, "Want one? Complimentary?"
I smile, shook my head and said "No thanks, I'd rather not know a thing about my future."
More pleasantries were exchanged when exit time arrived.

"I'm sorry I didn't do a better job for you Zelda," I said.
"No problems my dahling,'" Zelda replied, "You tried, we tried. The time is done.
Now onto the next pair of new shoes," she laughed. And she was holding an expensive pair.

"Besides," Alphie added, "We hired this big time attorney. He wrote us a disclaimer that would hold up to a legal army now."

And Alphie may be right.
I scan court records every now and then, run Zelda's name and her 15 other aliases.
So far she's been a very good girl.

Morale of this story:
You can't win 'em all, but you can learn a whole lot just by being in the game.