Ten Moves Ahead (Part 3)

I woke up the next morning feeling uncomfortable.  I'm not sure if it was some strange dream I couldn't remember, the fact that I had just broken up with my girlfriend, or the night I had spent with Cornelius, but I was distracted all day.  I kept thinking about what he had said, about how I was going to call him.  The truth was, I wanted to call him, but I didn't want to prove his predictive powers were true.  Somehow, just to prove him wrong, I ended up calling him that very first night, instead of waiting a "couple days" like he said I would.

I could tell from the familiar, happy way he said "Hello" that he already knew it was me, but then I figured, of course he did, I was calling him from the same number I called him from the day before.

"I think I'd like that drink today," I said.

"Of course," he replied.  "Meet me at O'Flannery's in 40 minutes?"

"Sure."

That was it.  I didn't rush.  I didn't put any thought into what I was wearing of what I was going to say when we met up.  I just grabbed my coat and walked out the door.

I got there about 10 minutes early and watched the people.  It was a Sunday night, so the place wasn't very busy, but there were still about a dozen people milling about.  I wondered what Cornelius would see in them all.  I started to wonder what he saw in my future.  He didn't seem to want to say much the night before, but of course then we had been focusing more on him and me.  I wondered what he saw of his own future.  But of course, I realized, all of this was assuming he really saw anything at all.  I still had a hard time believing that his talent was true, but if I really believed he was an alright guy, like I was starting to feel, despite my initial impression, then how could I believe he was lying.  Could it be that he was delusional?  But if that was so, how could the things he predict actually come true?  No, I realized, if I were to accept this was a good man, I would have to accept he was telling the truth about his skills as well, otherwise he couldn't possibly be a good man.

And then Cornelius walked in and sat down with a light smile.  "You want a Guiness?" he asked.

I looked up at him uncomfortably.  "You can read minds now, too?" I asked.

"Not really," he said.  "Sometimes seeing the future can seem like it, though.  I just saw what you were going to order on your own, that's all, and saw no harm in pointing it out ahead of time."

"No harm other than weirding me out," I said, trying to make light of it.

He shrugged.  "I've come to accept that's just what I do," he said.  "What I don't accept is that I can interfere in someone's life in a bad way.  I really want to make it up to you, but I'm also afraid that I might just make things worse."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"I had a dream last night," he said.  "It kind of confused me, frankly, because usually my visions come to me when I'm awake.  In fact, I can't think of a single time I've predicted something in a dream.  It seems like I always have to be consciously aware of what I'm doing, but I saw the same thing when I walked in and saw you sitting there that I saw in my dream last night, so I think it must be true."

"You think or you know?" I said.

"Well, I have to confess, I can never really promise you that what I see will happen, but so far, it always has, and despite the strangeness of first seeing this while I was sleeping, this seems no different."

"So what did you see?" I asked.

He takes a breath.  "I don't know how much of the details are safe to tell you," he says, "but suffice to say, I see a chance for you to be happy and another for you to not.  The part I'm still trying to work out is which path leads where, but both seem to involve me, so I suppose I'll stick around for the time being, if that's okay with you."

I frown.  "That seems a little too convenient," I say.  "Can't you tell me more?"

At that point a waitress comes over to take our orders.  I order a Guiness, forgetting until after I order it that Cornelius already predicted I would.  He orders some beer I've never heard of before, though I'm not much of a beer connoseuir, and says to the waitress, "Things are looking up."  She seems mildly uncomfortable but smiles at him and walks away.

"What was that about?" I ask.

"She recently graduated and has been looking for a job," he says.  "She's going to get one of the ones she's really interested in in two weeks."

"Well that's good," I say.  "You didn't tell her that though."

He looks a little confused.  "Of course not," he says.  "Why would I point out to anyone when I see something good is going to happen.  That might just mess it up."

"You just pointed out to me that something good was going to happen," I say.

He shook his head.  "I said something good might happen.  Sometimes I can't tell which path is the one we're headed on and which one is only something that might be.  I have to really concentrate to sort out all the possibilities.  Usually, I just see one thing, what is going to be should nothing change.  Every once in a while, I see more possibilities, though, and it's not always clear which is the one that requires no interference and which is the one that requires me to do something."

"How can it not be clear?" I ask, staring to feel skeptical of this man's motives again.

He sighs.  "I know you have no reason to believe me," he says.  "In fact, perhaps it would be best if I just walk out this door right now.  Then neither of the things I saw are likely to happen, since I won't be around to prompt either one.  I don't know what will happen then, but if I do leave, I might be able to still see what will happen as a result of that action.  I might know more clearly what will happen to you, and if there is need to warn you, I could always come back and warn you.  But the very fact that this is my plan could mess things up as well.  The truth is, the future isn't certain and by observing it and telling you about it, I could alter it in a way I never intended, or end up not altering it at all.  I just don't know.  So, do you want me to walk out that door planning to never come back and just let fate be fate, or do you want me to try to help you get to the happy outcome I saw."

I stare at him long and hard, but don't say anything.  He nods as if he understands and pulls out his wallet as if he's going to pay for his drink and leave, but before he does I hold out my hand and say "Wait!"  He looks up at me from his wallet and I say, "Stay.  I want to hear what you have to say.  I don't know how it could hurt."

He stops and smiles.  "I'm glad to hear that," he says, "but I want you to understand, I make no guarantee that me telling you what I've seen won't hurt.  Do you still want to know?"

I nod.  "Yes, I do," I say.

He nods back and puts his wallet away.  "Well then let me tell you as much as I feel I can safely."