Firefly - A River of Violence: Deleted Scene - Visiting the Fortune Teller
Author's Note: This just screamed cliche. There's a mention of Feng's mom and the foreshadowing later events but they weren't really necessary because if you don't know that something bad is going to happen soon then I have failed as a writer. The scene didn't really tell us anything new either so it had to go.
Deleted Scene - Visiting the Fortune Teller
John and Feng walked down the crowded street hand in hand on their way to the Gunpowder Rose. His mother had told him to get something for his sisters to make up for the abysmal Christmas gifts he’d given them and Feng had taken it upon herself to help him. He grumbled over the prices of everything as she pulled him into nearly every stall. He didn’t really pay attention to where they actually were until he found himself under the dark red canopy of the fortune teller’s tent.
“Feng, what are we doin’ here?” he asked, irritably. Wisps of incense smoke curling up from the many altars tickled his nose and made him want to sneeze. “Ya got some crazy superstitions you been hidin’ all these years?”
Feng frowned as she pulled a plump peach out of her satchel that must’ve cost her a pretty penny at this time of year and placed it carefully in front of a statue of Guan Yin as an offering. “I ain’t a big believer in the Old Ways as such but my ma was. Got too much science on my brain, she always said. She used to bring us every year and it didn’t feel right not ta keep comin’ after she passed on.”
“And you right to.” The creaky, heavily accented voice made John jump a little. He looked down to find the wizened old lady staring up at him with eyes like tunnels. “Traditons keep our loved ones in the heart.”
The fortune teller reached out faster than a snake and grabbed John’s right wrist. He tried to pull away but the woman’s grip was like a vise, holding his hand immobile in front of her. A press of her fingers forced his hand open and flat, so that she could study his palm. Hmmm-ing and hawing, she grabbed his left hand before dropping his right and pulling Feng’s left hand up so that she could study them side by side.
“Well?” asked John.
The woman made a clicking sound with her tongue and pulled her heavy shawl tighter around her thin shoulders. “Good news and bad news. Which you want first?”
“Bad news first.” replied Feng.
The fortune teller looked up at John, pinning him with her gimlet gaze. “For you, next year hazy. You stand at crossroads. Clearest path is long and lonely. The cradle take you to rushing river but let go burning phoenixes or they turn river to steam. Remember and you will find serenity you seek.”
She turned to Feng, rocking back on her heels. “Already set on path, yes? Have no choice but to follow it to end. Road been hard already and more hard times come but keep faith, be returned three fold as Guan Yin promises.”
Feng and John looked at each other.
The fortune teller patted Feng’s hands and smiled. “Good news? Both make good match. Not even this match maker do better. Now, eight bit please.”
John scowled as Feng paid the fortune teller.
“Bai hua le qien.” (Waste of money) He grumbled when they emerged from the tent. “Dunno why we went in the first place. She didn’t tell us nuthin’.”
Feng sighed as she took his arm. “It’s like she said. Tradition.”
They continued down the street, expanding the search for presents for John’s sisters. They were exiting a stall carrying the fancy shoes Feng had convinced John would be appropriate gifts when she heard someone call out to her.
Previous Scene - Buying Gifts | Home
Deleted Scene - Visiting the Fortune Teller
John and Feng walked down the crowded street hand in hand on their way to the Gunpowder Rose. His mother had told him to get something for his sisters to make up for the abysmal Christmas gifts he’d given them and Feng had taken it upon herself to help him. He grumbled over the prices of everything as she pulled him into nearly every stall. He didn’t really pay attention to where they actually were until he found himself under the dark red canopy of the fortune teller’s tent.
“Feng, what are we doin’ here?” he asked, irritably. Wisps of incense smoke curling up from the many altars tickled his nose and made him want to sneeze. “Ya got some crazy superstitions you been hidin’ all these years?”
Feng frowned as she pulled a plump peach out of her satchel that must’ve cost her a pretty penny at this time of year and placed it carefully in front of a statue of Guan Yin as an offering. “I ain’t a big believer in the Old Ways as such but my ma was. Got too much science on my brain, she always said. She used to bring us every year and it didn’t feel right not ta keep comin’ after she passed on.”
“And you right to.” The creaky, heavily accented voice made John jump a little. He looked down to find the wizened old lady staring up at him with eyes like tunnels. “Traditons keep our loved ones in the heart.”
The fortune teller reached out faster than a snake and grabbed John’s right wrist. He tried to pull away but the woman’s grip was like a vise, holding his hand immobile in front of her. A press of her fingers forced his hand open and flat, so that she could study his palm. Hmmm-ing and hawing, she grabbed his left hand before dropping his right and pulling Feng’s left hand up so that she could study them side by side.
“Well?” asked John.
The woman made a clicking sound with her tongue and pulled her heavy shawl tighter around her thin shoulders. “Good news and bad news. Which you want first?”
“Bad news first.” replied Feng.
The fortune teller looked up at John, pinning him with her gimlet gaze. “For you, next year hazy. You stand at crossroads. Clearest path is long and lonely. The cradle take you to rushing river but let go burning phoenixes or they turn river to steam. Remember and you will find serenity you seek.”
She turned to Feng, rocking back on her heels. “Already set on path, yes? Have no choice but to follow it to end. Road been hard already and more hard times come but keep faith, be returned three fold as Guan Yin promises.”
Feng and John looked at each other.
The fortune teller patted Feng’s hands and smiled. “Good news? Both make good match. Not even this match maker do better. Now, eight bit please.”
John scowled as Feng paid the fortune teller.
“Bai hua le qien.” (Waste of money) He grumbled when they emerged from the tent. “Dunno why we went in the first place. She didn’t tell us nuthin’.”
Feng sighed as she took his arm. “It’s like she said. Tradition.”
They continued down the street, expanding the search for presents for John’s sisters. They were exiting a stall carrying the fancy shoes Feng had convinced John would be appropriate gifts when she heard someone call out to her.
Previous Scene - Buying Gifts | Home