Madame Truesad

The gunfire, mixed with explosions, bells ringing, car engines revving, and the cheers from adults and children was overwhelming at first. But the Arcade soon embraced me and carried me off to my glorious childhood days at the shore. But as an adult now, I was aware of the seduction of the Arcade.. 

As a child there was always the hope that on the next try your skeeball would land in the tiny center ring, you would escape the munching monsters chasing you around the Pac Man track, or you would hit the flapper at just the right time and watch the little metal ball strike all the right spots as lights as bells celebrated your success. Prize tickets would be dispersed at a rapid rate. But I knew I would never reach the highest levels to obtain a camera, a telescope or a baseball glove. But, the candy, squirt gun and comic books were ample reward and a source of pride in my youth. 

As a wise adult I wandered slowly through the crowded aisles with my predetermined allotment of quarters. I will leave when they are gone. I watched eager children and teens striving for big scores. The quarters which were soon squandered. How could I be so bad at this? Have I aged that much? Are my reflexes surpassed by an  eight year old’s? After many failures I decided that I better leave if I was to preserve my fond memories. I left with only one quarter in my pocket- a sign of adult restraint. 

That’s when it happened. As I slowly wandered to the exit Madame Truesad’s eyes followed me. Encased in her glass covered Victorian room she beckoned to me In a seductive low voice- “Come- see your future- become the master of your fate”. My fingers clutched the last quarter. Quite involuntarily I was drawn to her. As if in a trance, I pressed the quarter into the slot. Her mechanical body swayed seductively as she revealed her wisdom in her sultry voice and followed it with a written message which was dispensed with each quarter.

I lost track of the time. I was surrounded by scraps of paper at my feet with various statements alternating between lauding my skills and accomplishments, describing my fears and worries- and warning me of dire consequences ahead. 

My credit card was finally blocked due to “repeated and unusual activity”, according to the pimpled 16 year old clerk at the ticket counter. He seemed to pity me. I was dishevelled and anxious- as if in a hostage video. I was tempted to try and sell my watch but refrained. He shrugged- “Closing time, mister”.

Later I sat dejected and ashamed on my sofa. As I reached into my pocket for my now useless credit card, I found one of Madame Truesad’s messages- “You must meet me at midnight tonight”. Again, in a trance-like state I found myself at the back door of the Arcade at exactly midnight. It was unlocked. I was drawn to Madame Truesad’s Victorian living room- shining in the darkened hall. She smiled- “I’m so glad you came back to me. Come in”.

As the crowds flowed in like the tide, an older gentleman smiled and deposited a quarter. Madame Truesad greeted him with a smile and offered him a path to peace and contentment. I raised my head. Sitting on her sofa in my velvet, deep red dinner jacket, I raised my mechanical arm, removed my pipe and in a soft welcoming voice- spoke- “All will be well- why don’t you join us?”