The Tarot Reading

Guy’s shop had much of what you’d expect to find at a metaphysical store in a trendy part of the city — moon oil, a book about Louisiana Voodoo, lime green and midnight blue stones, and a number of pendulums.

There was also stuff you might not expect...like an antelope skull, and a cartoon bumper sticker of the Grim Reaper going down on a nun.

She came into his shop at around nine pm one night, on a Saturday. It wasn’t late but Guy had plans and he was closing. She came through the curtain of tiny bells that hung in the frame of the front door.

“Are you Guy, the talented tarot reader I’ve been told about?’

“That must be me,” he said, glancing at the Garfield witch wall clock above the amethyst shelf.

“I, uh, she said…"

“I’m just,” they overlapped.

“I know it’s late, but I really need some guidance.”

“Is there, uh, anyway you’d like to come back tomorrow morning?”

“It’s just...I’m not sure I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Next time you’re in the neighborhood then?”

“No, I mean...I’m not sure I’ll be...here...like, at all, by tomorrow.”

It took a moment for those words to brew.

She was an attractive woman with strawberry blond hair, in her mid-forties he thought. Her voice carried a bit of sadness with a touch of fear. Let’s go to the back, he said.

As they made their way to the room in the back of the store where Guy did all of his tarot readings, he noticed her eye the bumper sticker.

…

He turned on a pink salt lamp in the corner, and they took a seat at the small round table in the middle of the room. Guy lit a purple candle. This was his sacred space.

"May I have a name, madame?”

He doesn’t really call people madame, but he has a habit of adding a bit of theater to his readings sometimes. In fact, he’s said before that he low key likes the title of fortune teller.

“Of course,” she said. “It’s Isabella. Well, Isabella isn’t my real name, but if it’s all right with you, you can just call me Isabella”

“As the lady wishes,” Guy replied, with a slight bow of the head. “No but seriously, no problem. It’s nice to meet you, Isabella.” She made a warm, if faint smile.

Guy shuffled a deck of Tarot de Marseilles cards. They’re longer than playing cards, and the backs have a criss-cross pattern of thin purple lines. On the table cloth, there is a gold seven-pointed star — the septagram. Guy would draw seven cards total, each face down, one on each point of the star. Seven cards should paint a complete picture of what could be going on in this woman’s life. They should be able to uncover her reasons for coming to his shop that late summer night — why she seemed afraid — and why she thought she may no longer be here tomorrow.

…

He flipped over the first card, at the bottom of the star near her right hand.

“Interesting,” he said. “The Fool card. The first and the last card of the twenty two major arcana. What a way to begin a reading.”

‘What does it mean? "She asked.

“The Fool card, Isabella, presages a new beginning. You know like when the Sun comes out after the rain? It’s that kind of vibe. It’s the first step into a new journey, a new chapter in your life.”

“So it’s a good thing?” She asked.

“I’d say so, he said. I mean, the only constant is change, right? The other cards should help clarify where this new journey may take you. This is just the beginning.”

Next he flipped over the card by her left hand.

“That doesn’t look good,” she said.

“Not necessarily bad,” he said.

It was the Tower card. It shows a medieval looking stone tower crumbling as if it had been attacked by a catapult and people are falling from it.

“It looks pretty bad,” she said.

“It just means there’s going to be a very abrupt change. Carl Jung said there’s no coming to consciousness without pain. But you know, overall it’s still Love, it’s still positive, it’s God, it’s Life. They say our wounds are where the light comes in.”

“So I should expect pain.”

“And the wisdom that comes with it.”

“I don’t want any more pain,” she said.

…

The next card he turned over was the High Priestess. The image is of a woman holding a book. She’s also known as La Papesse, or lady pope.

“She’s referring to your own intuition, Isabella, your ability to know in your heart what is going on, and what you need to do.”

“Or it could just reflect the fact that I’m even here right now getting a tarot reading in this crazy place, right?” She smiled again.

“I think that’s right, Guy said. Your intuition is good!”

“She held her palm to her forehead and said, I’m all-knowing!” And some of the heavy tension was for a moment banished by laughter.

…

Next he flipped over the King of Pentacles. The image is of a king on a throne holding a gold coin. The card usually represents a man in a person’s life, such as a father, boyfriend, or husband. Guy often pulled this card for himself, especially when asking about spiritual work and financial matters.

“There’s a man, a king, of sorts, in your life.” He quickly turned over the card next to it and revealed the Six of Swords — someone setting off in a boat. “I see someone leaving. You’re leaving him, or he’s leaving you, the king, I mean.”

Her face darkened and she looked down at her hands. This must be about her husband, he thought.

Next was the Five of Wands, an omen of conflict and fighting.

“Isabella, if there is violence, then leaving is probably the best thing you can do.” She quietly nodded.

…

It was time for the seventh and final card. The card that lay on the top point of the star, closest to Guy.

The image was a skeleton walking across a field holding a scythe. The ground was littered with heads and dismembered limbs. In the Marseilles deck, it’s simply known as card XIII, but it’s understood to be the Death card.

“It rarely, if ever, refers to actual, physical death,” Guy said. “It’s simply the end of a cycle, Isabella, a chance for rebirth.”

Isabella’s face became pale. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Isabella,” he said. “Are you afraid for your life?"

She remained silent.

…

Her face continued to grow pale. It whitened until her skin was nearly transparent. Her eyes seemed to retreat into her head, leaving just her eye sockets.

Guy looked at the cards again. Gazing upon the High Priestess, his intuition of their meaning had changed.

Have I been Fool? He thought. What has the actual significance of this night been? Of this reading?

Isabela’s lovely hair that was moments ago a blushing rose was entirely gone. It was replaced by white flowers that seemed to grow around her face that was now fully a skull.

The Tower, Guy thought...coming apart...the King of Pentacles. That was him. The Six of Swords...crossing over to the far shore. It became clear to him who, and what, Isabella was.

Her face, her body, a skeleton, although she never really lost her smile. She didn’t carry a scythe, as you might expect. But she was dressed in a cloak. A bright, pink cloak.

She set an hourglass on the table. It was almost done.

“So...it’s my…time." He choked, adjusting the Death card on the table with his hand.

Death silently nodded.

He bit his lip and looked at the Conflict card for a few moments. What have I left undone? Am I ready? No, he thought. Of course not. For a moment he considered running, but he knew it would be no use.

“Okay,” he said.

…

They made their way back to the front of the store. Isabela again appeared as a normal, flesh-and-blood woman.

“Hey, do you mind if I take one of these?” She asked, pointing to the pile of stickers.

“Sure,” said Guy.

“Cool, thanks,” she said.

Guy threw on his jacket and opened the door. Outside, there was absolutely nothing there.

“Ready to head out?” She asked.

Closing the door behind them, you could hear the jingle of the tiny bells.