Authors: Unknown
Why would the spirit or whatever be smiling? It had left me and that’s how I wanted it to stay and yet, here it was, prickling along my skin announcing its presence.
I heard Ms. Jean from a long way off, crying over my well being. She was in a type of awed hysterics, the way one is when they see Niagara Falls and I guess she was allowed to be. I must have looked like the greatest seer in the world because the spirit was flowing all around me.
“I’m alright,” I managed, regaining some air.
“You’re sure you’re not having some kind of seizure?”
“Seizure? No,” I shook my head, “I felt the power of the cards. Didn’t you see it?”
She shook her own head, casting shadows across the failing candlelight and closed curtains. She swallowed audibly and the strong pungent aroma of fear crowded into the herb-infused room. My beast prickled at the intoxicating scent of sweat and pulsing blood and for just a moment, I stopped to listen to her heart. It thumped frantically against her chest, knocking a frightened hello towards me. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel that life that was all hers spill over me. The warmth of my beast began a slow cascade over my body, erasing the foul chills of the unknown entity.
My feet stepped closer to the pile of meat sitting so delicately in the chair and my nostrils drank her in. The stale cigarette smoke didn’t seem to cloud the mouth-watering taste of nervous fear, of drowned horror, of metallic blood. After seeing Clyde, it was all I could do to maintain control and now her fear was seducing me, tempting me to gobble her up, waving her hot and moist flesh right under my nostrils like some punk kid eating a cupcake in front of Bally’s. My breathing hastened and my feet wound their way closer, stalking towards my prey.
My ears prickled as her chair fell backward. With the sudden banging of sounds I finally looked at her with very human eyes.
She was slightly cowering in the corner of my dining room, squeezing a book entitled
Mythology: The Rise of Anubis
. I think she meant to hit me with the ten pound book to defend herself. My wolf laughed at the idea of her trying to protect herself with just a book. My claws could definitely take the book on.
With very human hands, I tore the book from her death grip and placed it gently on the shelf above her head. I knew that she had seen a part of my beast rise and that from now on, I had to be most delicate. I didn’t want her to panic nor spread wild accusations and rumors to her friends. If word got out about this, not to sound so selfish, but my business could be ruined.
A soft growl rumbled through my mouth as I spoke, “Ms. Jean, the power of your future is strong and violent.”
I wanted to be vague, I wanted her to believe that I saw the future and that the beast was not a part of me. I wanted her to believe lies instead of the brutal truth that she was my next meal.
“What, what do you mean?” she asked trembling and shaking.
“Please, sit back in the chair, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
I offered her my hand and she looked at it with a deadly fear. She still saw me as an animal, and could I blame her? I wondered just how close to turning I came.
And yet, her hand met mine and she slowly sat in the red, leather chair.
“That’s never happened to you before,” she said warily.
“These feelings were particularly intense,” I replied sitting dow
n in my own red leather chair.
That was the understatement of the year. Not only did I have foul chills running across my arms, but the painful and intense heat of bloodlust was currently running through my pores, threatening to call my beast.
I took a deep breath and stared at the frightened woman across the table. Her blue eyes were more bright and intense than I had ever seen them before and she was wearing a face that screamed intelligence. As horrible as this sounds, I never saw her as a smart woman because her appearance and her believing in me I considered to be dense qualities. But there she was staring at me as if she knew, as if she knew that I was a fraud and that I was a werewolf.
But that couldn’t be true. How would she know? I could play off the scenes of earlier as just charlatan tricks but I wasn’t sure I could ignore that intelligence in her eyes.
Her body began to place itself upright and whorish, lifting and separating her leathery breasts back onto my table as she came closer to the globe and the cards.
“You’re real, aren’t you?” she asked.
For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. I had thought she knew about my lycanthropy, knew I was a fraud and with that one single question, the intelligence was gone. I guess she wanted to believe in something more tangible, less fantastical. People will only see what they want to see.
“Are you believing that just now?” I asked trying desperately to crawl back into my con-man shell.
She giggled a little bit nervously and said, “No, I’ve always believed you were real, girl. But that performance really sealed the deal for me.”
“I apologize for that, sometimes I can’t control the power from the spirits,” and would you look at that, a few words of truth came from my mouth, “Shall I continue with the reading?”
“Oh yeah.”
I turned over the last card, the Knight of Wands, and felt a tad bit empty. The warm power of the beast was slipping away in to a dark recess and the cold power of the entity was no longer in the room. I was back to being normal, but a small part of me missed those feelings. Of course, I‘m not going to admit that, but I wouldn’t be able to deny the truth for too long.
“A fully armored knight rides confidently and purposefully,” I began, “His stance and coloring indicate passion and bravery.”
“Was he fighting,” Ms. Jean asked, “Is that the power of the future you were feeling?”
Crap. I had forgotten about that lie. Oh, what a tangled web I weave.
“We shall see,” I said and continued on, “He is well rested and ready to take adventure where he finds it. This passion that you are feeling is dragging you ahead of the current. Instead of fear, you are excited and determined. You are ready for that same grand adventure. If one doesn’t come to you, you will go out and find it.”
“Does that mean me and Jonathan will have a great future?”
“Look closer at this card,” I said. And for a moment, I did. There was danger here, that I could feel as the soft ebb of chills harkened me back to only a few moments ago. The entity had returned, yet it was standoffish, distant, so I spoke the only words I knew to speak, “His horse is hidden by robes of red, barely peeking its eyes. A word of warning is written here, ‘Fools rush in where angels fear to tread’. Do not be taken by the current so much that you drown.”
“Oh my, so I have to enjoy the sex but not confuse it with love?”
The meaning is deeper than that, but this reading isn’t for her, it’s for me. I am in danger that much I know. And the cards didn’t need to tell me that; Clyde was dead and my dreams were returning. Something was definitely brewing…
“Exactly, Ms. Jean. I don’t know why you come to me, you would have already figured this out.”
“No, Ms. Sophie, I wouldn’t have. Those cards help me so much.”
She reached for my hands and squeezed them tightly with a soft tremble of residual fear, “Thank you for your help. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be just fine, Ms. Jean. You’re a smart woman…”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but thank you just the same.”
“Is there anything else you need me to help you with?” I asked secretly hoping she would leave and I could either ponder the cards, or become a hermit and run away from all of this.
She took a deep sigh and frowned, “How much for a single card to get me through the day?”
I smiled, “On the house.”
It was the least I could do. After all, the reading wasn’t for her, it was for me. And I was charging her, using her for my own financial gains. Somehow, that seemed a little bit shady. So, I offered the reading free of charge.
My hand reached into the shuffled deck that was spread before me. I turned over the card and felt a small prickle of ice curl around my fingertips.
The Eight of Cups stood in my sight. I swallowed quite loudly and showed her the card.
“Is that card bad?” she asked.
I ignored her, knowing the foreboding that this card had for me, and began the description of the card, “A young man turns his back on a tumble of cups. A sleeping mole remains hidden, showing his blindness to the world. The man gazes off at the horizon before beginning on his journey. He has tasted from all the cups and found them lacking. Although they may have filled the thirst or the passion for the moment, they only provided a distraction from his destiny. The full moon rises and he cannot ignore its light nor its call, just as he can no longer ignore the voice of his soul, his spirit, his entity. The time for blindness is over and he must move forward,” I swallowed again and hoped that I had read the card wrong. But I hadn’t. I was being told to open my eyes, to embrace both powers that resided in me otherwise, well, I would perish if I remained immobile and silent.
I wanted to slump down in my chair, to curl up and hide from this card because of the truth that it was speaking, that the entity was speaking. I didn’t want to have to face both my powers and take them on at the same time because they were too intense. And that’s what the card wanted me to do; it wanted me to marry the two powers and become whole. As beautiful and easy as that sounds, life is never that simple. I can still remember the power of the entity filling me with nightmares so vivid and frightening that I prayed for death and the power of the beast is just as scary. I couldn’t allow them to both run through me at the same time; not only would it be painful, but it could be downright dangerous.
My hand rubbed across my forehead wiping a few beads of nervous sweat onto the tablecloth. I took in another deep inhale trying desperately to focus on the woman sitting in front of me.
“You are stuck in a rut, Ms. Jean, enjoy the cups that give you moments of passion,” I said tossing out words that I hoped made sense because honestly, my brain wasn’t following the cards at the moment, it had more important thoughts to dwell on such as the combining of the powers, “but there is more for you than just pleasures of the flesh. You have a destiny, and you must not turn away from it.”
“That’s a daily reading?” she asked, her voice a tilt higher than usual.
I knew it wouldn‘t make sense to her because I wasn‘t technically speaking to her. But I gathered enough brain power to toss out some bullshit because that‘s readily available to a con-artist, “A reading is never just daily, Ms. Jean. They compile and guide you on your path. Your new journey may begin today, but know this, you have to listen to your heart and your soul. And as the warning from the Knight of Wands says, do not become enslaved to those emotions that hold you back.”
“I don’t understand, but I trust you.”
“Basically, enjoy life and follow your heart and don’t allow false love to keep you from your soul mate.”
I turned the cards meanings from adventure and destiny to something she would understand, her love life. Ms. Jean doesn’t come here to find out if she will win the lottery or even if her life will become something more, no, she comes here hoping that each new man she encounters will be the last, will be her only love. And so that’s what I promise. No matter what the cards really mean, she needs the hope of true love.
I may be a charlatan (perhaps not anymore) and a definite sleaze ball for swindling people out of their money, but I won’t intentionally hurt someone. I offer hope to those who don’t feel like they deserve any.
The four cards; the Eight of Cups, the Knight of Wands, the Two of Cups, and the Nine of Swords stared menacingly at me from the red and gold laced tablecloth. This wasn’t her reading. This was mine. I knew that. I felt that. I was being told what to expect and how to deal with it when it came. The nightmare had already woke me up before in the form of a werewolf. A friend, a lover, someone, would help me overcome the shadowy figure that haunted me. It would be a journey to set my soul right, but I couldn’t look back. I must never look back. Because if I do, I won’t be able to fix the problem that shadows my every movement. And as the cards showed me that the events were more than just mere coincidences, I wanted to hide. I wanted to look back, actually, I didn’t want to have to face anything. I wanted to remain right where I was, stagnate and content that only a beast was stirring, that only a few chills were circling the air. I didn’t want to deal with anything more.
“The usual, fifty dollars?” Ms. Jean asked pulling a bright green fake alligator clutch from her bright red fake alligator skinned purse.
“No, not today.”
“Well, how much? I can’t afford much more.”
“Ms. Jean, you don’t owe me anything.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“This reading is free.”
“Why?” she asked with an incredulous look on her face that made her leathery wrinkles crease into her big, blue eyes.
“Well, now that you know your future, there’s no point in visiting me anymore,” I said smiling softly, forcing the grin to reach my eyes. The truth was, I felt guilty. Here I am reading the cards for myself and lying through my teeth to her. Was I really offering hope or did I just say that to make myself feel better? And the more I ask these questions the more I know I’m being selfish. So, sue me if I don’t want to charge the kind lady sitting in front of me whose only crime is wanting answers to the meaning of life.