Allegories of the Tarot (19 page)

“How?”
Rose’s eyes drooped…

“It wraps itself in a cocoon and hangs upside down from
a single, silken thread where it waits.”

“Waits for what, Pee Paw?”

“It does not know…” his voice trailed off into the night
air along with smoke he exhaled from his lungs.

Rose never heard the rest of the story of the worm’s
journey and its transformation into the moth. She awoke the next morning in a
warm bed, and felt sad when her mom and dad picked her up the next morning. She
hugged her Pee Paw goodbye, as she always did, and promised to call him when
she got home.
Which, like every good grandchild, she never
did.

***

Walking hand in hand with her mother and father down the
florescent-lit hallway of the hospital, she wondered what she was about to see,
and felt scared.
Very, very scared.

As the door to room 13-22 opened, she saw a tiny room.
Two beds, one by a window with the last of the day’s sunlight shining through
onto the wall above it, and the other next to a small bathroom door. She saw
someone’s feet sticking out from underneath a blanket on the bed by the window
and heard all sorts of machines making strange noises—chirps and
whistles,
buzzers and blips. Rose decided it would be best
if she stayed hidden behind her mother’s and father’s legs until someone told
her what to do and where to stand.

“Daddy?”
Her mother leaned over
the bed of the person with the exposed, white, bone-like feet. Rose could not
see her Pee Paw, as the rest of his body was hidden from Rose’s view by her
mother’s body and a large machine with numbers that blinked like her alarm
clock at home.

“Daddy?
We made it. We’re
here,” said Rosie’s Momma.

Rose heard a mumbled response from her grandfather, but
she couldn’t understand what he said.

“Yes. We all came, we’re all here.”

Another muffled response from the bed.

“Yes, Rose too,” her mother said. “Would you like to see
her?”

Rose’s mom turned and motioned to her daddy. He slid a
chair next to the bed, and helped Rose stand in it.

At first, she didn’t recognize the man she saw. This was
definitely not her Pee Paw. This man was an old man, with a gaunt, pale face
and dark rings under his sunken eyes. Plastic tubes protruded from his arms.
His skin looked white as a skeleton. A tiny plastic mask on over his nose and
mouth fogged up as he labored to breath.

“There’s my little Rose,” he said. “I’ve been waiting
for you, sweetie.”

“Pee Paw?” she said. He looked so sad and thin. His
voice crackled and sounded hollow from behind the strange mask. “What
happened?”

Her grandfather looked at Rose’s mother.
“Why don’t the rest of you give me a few minutes to talk to my
granddaughter, ok?”

Slowly, the adults left the room until no one remained
but Rose and her grandfather. As the door closed behind them, Rose felt her
chest and throat start to constrict as she looked at her grandfather. The
reality of what was happening to him finally hit her. In one sudden rush of
emotion, tears started to well up in her eyes and drip down her cheeks.

Pee Paw attempted to sit upright. As he did, he grimaced
in pain and exhaustion, as if every bit of strength he had left was put into
the effort. This was not the man she once saw smack a buck on its butt after
sneaking up on it. He was dying, and she only just now realized that it was a
matter of when and not "if".

“I love you, Pee Paw,” she sobbed as the lump in her
throat began to make it impossible to talk. “I love you so much.”

“I love you to, Rose,” he lifted his bony hand from
beneath the covers and wiped the tears off her cheek as his own tears trickled
down his.

“Rose…I need you to help me, ok? Will you do something
for me?”

She nodded her head wondering what she could possibly do
to help this man she loved so much.

“The light is calling to me, Rose. Do you remember? Do
you remember the worm? Will you help me get ready?”

“Yes, Pee Paw,” she wept. “Tell me how to help.”

“I need you to make my cocoon for me.”

Rose’s Pee Paw instructed her how to tuck the blankets
on the bed tightly around his body. She wrapped his thin feet so they would not
poke out. She slid her hands up underneath his frail legs and hips, making sure
he was swaddled as tight as could be.

“Hug me one last time before you cocoon my arms, Rose,”
he whispered weakly, his breathing erratic and harsh.

She embraced her grandfather, holding him close for a
long moment. Carefully she tucked his arms underneath the blankets, pulling
them taut over his shoulders and neck so only the tubes poked out from
underneath.

“Is it time, Pee Paw?” she asked. “Is it time to grow
wings and fly back to the light?”

“I don’t know, Rosie. I hope so. Worms don’t ever know
what they’re going to become when they surrender to the light, they just know
they’ll become something greater than what they were.”

He paused for a few seconds, and again his eyes trailed
off, just as they did the last time they spoke; as if he were no longer
explaining, but remembering. When his gaze came back to focus, Rose saw a joy
and love she knew she would always remember.

“But know this, Rose. Whatever I become, no matter how
amazing my wings might be, or what great visions I see as I fly high into the
sky, what I’m about to become will never be as beautiful as you are to me right
now.”

And with that, Rose watched her Pee Paw close his eyes
as the last few rays of sunlight coming in through the window dropped off his
face.

***

Timothy Smith lives in North Carolina where he and his
wife split their time between running their restaurant, indulging in creative
projects, and spending time with their two dogs. A life- long student of
symbolism and creative expression, Timothy has always enjoyed exploring the
eclectic myths and archetypal characters of various religions and their
respective cultures throughout history. Inspired in his youth by the insights
of Jung, Campbell, and other authors who defined the field of comparative
mythologies and their impact on culture and the human condition, Timothy has
studied and practiced various systems of divination since his childhood. This
is Timothy's first contribution to an anthology, but hopefully not his last.

***

TEMPERANCE

Reply All

By Anne Chaconas

Date:
Friday 13
June, 9:45am

From:
Williams,
Temperance

To:
Arcana
Enterprises

Subject:
Leaving early today

Please be advised that Mr. Mammon is leaving at noon
today to attend a tennis tournament, and will be unavailable until Monday. All
urgent matters should be brought to his attention no later than 11am.

Thank you,

Temperance Williams

Executive Assistant to Stan Mammon, VP - Arcana Enterprises

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:47am

From:
Kaiser, Victoria

To:
Mammon, Stanley

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?
A
“tennis tournament?”

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:50am

From:
Mammon, Stanley

To:
Kaiser, Victoria

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

If you want, I can
ask Temperance to send out an email clarifying my weekend activities. What
would you like me to have her say?

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:51am

From:
Kaiser, Victoria

To:
Mammon, Stanley

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

Have her say you’ll be riding me roughly in the back of an
El Dorado.

-----

Date:
Friday 13
June, 9:52am

From:
Mammon, Stanley

To:
Kaiser, Victoria

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

Ooh.
Kinky.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:53am

From:
Forza, Geraldine

To:
Williams, Temperance
;
Arcana Enterprises List>

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

FYI, Mrs. Kaiser will also be leaving early today,
around 1pm. All matters needing her attention should be brought to me no later
than noon.

Thanks!

Geri Forza

Executive Assistant
to Victoria Kaiser, Marketing Director - Arcana Enterprises

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:55am

From:
Williams, Temperance

To:
Forza, Geraldine
;
Justia, Marie

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

Boy, it must be nice
to be rich and single, huh? This is fifth time in two weeks that Mammon’s cut
out early.
Tennis tournament today, wine tasting last week,
conference in Vegas two weekends ago.
I can’t remember where he went the
other two times.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:56am

From:
Forza, Geraldine

To:
Williams, Temperance
;
Justia, Marie

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

The rich and married
do it just as often. Vikki’s been leaving early every other day, it seems. I
guess it pays to be married to the boss.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:57am

From:
Kaiser, Victoria

To:
Mammon, Stanley

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

Not as kinky as we
were on Tuesday.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:58am

From:
Mammon, Stanley

To:
Kaiser, Victoria

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

My nethers still tingle.

Love you in that
skirt today. If it was any tighter, I’d be able to see the outline of your
panties.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 9:59am

From:
Kaiser, Victoria

To:
Mammon, Stanley

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

You’re assuming I’m
wearing any.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 10:01am

From:
Justia, Marie

To:
Forza, Geraldine
;
Williams, Temperance

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

Where does she even
go? It can’t be work-related; she’s got all her little minions that she sends
to conferences. And it can’t be personal; the boss hardly ever takes off early,
he works most weekends (I would know, he keeps me here working with him), and
you know he’d never let her go anywhere alone. Honestly, I don’t even know why
she has a job here. I never see her do a damn thing. It’s completely unfair.
What’s she even doing right now, Geri?

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 10:02am

From:
Forza, Geraldine

To:
Williams, Temperance
;
Justia, Marie

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

She’s sitting at her
computer, typing something and giggling.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 10:02am

From:
Williams, Temperance

To:
Forza, Geraldine
;
Justia, Marie

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

Sounds
like she’s hard at work.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 10:03am

From:
Justia, Marie

To:
Forza, Geraldine
;
Williams, Temperance

Subject:
RE: Leaving early today

I saw her in
Atlantic City when I went last weekend, at the blackjack tables.
Losing the Kaiser fortune, no doubt.
Can’t imagine she’s
particularly good at cards. Don’t you need to be smart to do well at card
games? I didn’t say hello to her, OBVIOUSLY. I don’t think she saw me…or she
pretended not to recognize me.

-----

Date:
Friday 13 June, 10:05am

From:
Forza, Geraldine