CITY LIMITS: Read Between the Lines

Psychics believe the future lies in the palm of your hand You don't know how you'll do on the LSAT, and you're scared you'll never get into law school. Your girlfriend has been giving you grief – should you break up with her, or give her one more chance? Should you go abroad next semester, or will you miss out at home? The answers to these and all of your questions, according to some, may lie in the palm of your hand. Palmistry, the art of telling the future from a glimpse at your palm, is an occult science of prescience. From the ridges of the palm, some say, a person's future becomes as clear as the lines on the hand. Astrologists and psychics alike attribute their powers of seeing into the future to the movements of the sun, moon, planets and stars, which guide people's life choices. And according to believers, each part of the brain has its counterpart in the hand, revealing truths that otherwise would be invisible to the eye. It's not just for Nancy Reagan; astrologers and psychics have attained prominence and credence all over the world. There is an American Federation of Astrologers in Tempe, Ariz. There are astrology boards which advise city government officials and preside over the readings of the supernatural in Atlanta and Las Vegas. Some political leaders in India are known to consult astrologers and psychics before making important decisions. And throughout Philadelphia, there are psychics and astrologers who claim to see all – and will tell you what they see, when money crosses their palms. While most are eager to talk about others, very few will talk about themselves. But in a quiet setting, some will reveal how they can see what the rest of us cannot. "When I was six, I saw a death coming before it took place," Cindy Preston said, sipping a cup of coffee in the kitchen of her Rittenhouse Square apartment. That, Preston says, was how she knew she was psychic. "I was born with certain psychic gifts," she said between sips. "It's not something you pick up from books." Preston attributes her gifts to her mother, who "guided me, and told me how to go with it." She believes many people possess the talent to see into the future, but dismiss it as coincidences or oddly striking premonitions. "A lot of people with psychic abilities don't seem to understand what they are," she said. "They think they're going crazy. It's premonitions, but they don't know which way to go with it." Many people, Preston said, rely on her psychic abilities and visit her frequently in her basement apartment on 20th and Walnut streets, where she works in a small, tidily furnished white room. "Very, very important people come to speak to me," Preston said. "But I can't give out their names." Preston not only reads people's futures, but she also advises them on their present lives, businesses, loves and marriages. "I just try to give them more hope – to put them on the right track," she said. "I'm here to help them find the right answers." Preston admitted that many people are skeptical of the power of psychics to truly see beyond what ordinary people can see – in fact, many of her clients originally came doubting the supernatural. "When you come to a psychic, you have to come with an open mind," she said. "Just to find out if you're headed in the right direction." Preston says she is not a "grasping psychic" – she does not reach out at passersby when she sets up her two chairs on the street outside her house. "When I sit out there, and I focus on people, things do come from people I see," she said. "Sometimes, I'll stop them and tell them what I see, but most of the time I won't." Preston also will not predict the stock market. "I can't give out that kind of information," she said. "I just don't focus on numbers." And she's not keen on giving clients "bad news." "Unless there is danger or a tragedy [they can avoid]," she said. "Then, yes, I will tell them about it." At the end of a dark and narrow staircase in a South Street rowhouse, there is a door that says, "Keep Out." Right next to that door, a half-naked four-year-old girl points, giggles and runs back in. This is where Sylvia tells other people's stories. Her office and her apartment are the same. A lace cloth is tightly spread over the dining room table; a payphone hangs on the wall directly behind. And more little children play and watch TV in the room next door, while Sylvia tells people their futures. "It was a gift from God," Sylvia says, gesturing briefly at the statuettes of the Virgin Mary sitting on the ledge behind her. "I realized it [when] I was very, very young." Sylvia has been reading people's palms and tarot cards since she was a 7-year-old in Romania, about 20 years ago. Sylvia reads people's palms every day of the week but Sunday, when she takes the day off as a day of prayer to purify herself. "I pray a lot to God," she said, lowering her eyes quickly. She added that the ability to commune with the supernatural is limited to Christians. No one else, she believes, can see the future. Sylvia said she can look into people's eyes and hands and see their futures, but cannot see her own or those of her family. "I'm only gifted to read for other people," she explained. In addition to regular customers, Sylvia said, she has also done readings for police officers to help them in their searches for criminals. "Sometimes, police come in here," she said. "If I can focus and see about it, I tell them. People want to know if they can find another person." But most people who come to her, she said, ask her more conventional questions. "They want to know about love, future, past, present, business," she said. "I tell them." She does not tell all, however, without first warning her customer. "I ask them first if they really want to know before I tell them anything bad," she said. Sylvia knows that many people read palms on South Street, and says she "can't really judge anybody." "Some people in this job are confused," she said. "Some people with more talent, some with less talent." "They confuse the reading sometimes," she said, "because they don't understand it." In the thick of the crowd on South Street, Madonna will tell people's futures for varying prices – $5 for a cursory reading, $10 for a palm reading and $20 for a full palm reading which goes more into depth. Her office is not in her house, but in a storefront in the middle of the shopping district. A TV broadcasts the end of the Phillies game from behind a Chinese screen; a pair of legs with an unseen owner rests on top of the set. But just a coffee table and couch greet the customer, and Madonna sits with a book as she waits for more hands to read. She is not always there, though. Some days, she takes off because, she says, it drains her. She also recommends that people – even her frequent customers – not come in every day. "Nothing should be overdone," she said as she sat, one leg under another, on the couch. "Nothing is good if it is done too much." Madonna does not want to talk about herself. "I don't have time," she said. But she has worked for 12 years at reading people's palms and destinies. Before working in her storefront office, she worked as most do – from her apartment upstairs. Madonna believes that the spiritual focus needs to be refreshed periodically. "I need to meditate every day," she said. Madonna not only works for regular customers, but has also been seen around the University, telling people's fortunes at formals. Whether people there are concerned with the future of their lives or of that night is of no concern to Madonna. She just knows that over the years, she has developed a knack for the craft that so few people have. "You just get a feeling for it."