I was fourteen again, bullied and teased by the people who were supposed to love me most. It had been going on for years. Exhausted from living a disingenuous life, it hadn’t taken much to set me off. The dam burst one night when my father told me my outfit made me look like a fag, and where had I bought it? Forever 21? My uncle, who had been visiting at the time, laughed. It was an outfit I’d specifically coordinated to be more masculine-presenting, to appease their cruel nature, to hide the truth. Somehow, I’d failed.
My control had slipped, and in a moment of teenage rage, I’d lashed out. I’d come clean.
I’d told them what they’d been longing to hear.
Peril. Shattered illusions. Life-changing decisions. Chaos. Upheaval.
Liberation.
Breaking the chains that had bound me was the best thing I’d ever done. I’d never looked back.
A shiver raced along my nape and over my scalp as I stared at the strange woman across the table. At the card supposedly depicting my past. What was she doing? How did she know?
Her fingers slid to the middle card. “The second, the present, is upside down. The Hierophant. It represents rebellion. It suggests you’re tired of following the rules and want to break free.”
“Sounds about right,” I mumbled. The words were out before I could stop them. I didn’t want to give the woman any reason to continue this nonsense.
“Look at you. A lowly records clerk with far bigger aspirations. You like poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, don’t you, Tallus? It thrills you but will get you in trouble someday.”
How did she know?
“You’re asking yourself, ‘How does she do it?’ ‘How does she coax unsuspecting souls into going along with her madness?’ ‘How does she persuade them to stay?’ ‘Why, why, why?’”
I pushed back from the table and was about to stand when Madame Rowena slammed a fist on the surface, upsetting the remaining stack of cards and making her bracelets jangle. “Sit down. We aren’t finished.”
Her voice was so compelling and demanding that I landed back on the velvet cushioned seat, sweat beading along my temples. The fumes from the candles and incense were gettingto me. The air was thick with it, and it tickled my lungs unpleasantly.
“You don’t like my reading? You came here, didn’t you? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“It’s not a reading. It’s bullshit. Anyone can do research. Clearly, you’ve looked me up.”
She snapped the tarot deck from the table and tossed it into the air, plucking a single card from the chaos and slamming it down on top of the card she’d called the hierophant. “Maybe you like this one better.”
She didn’t look at the image printed on its surface as she continued.
“Seven of Swords. Someone is trying to deceive you or maybe it is you the deceiver. Are you being lied to, or are you the one doing the lying?” She stabbed a finger on the card. “Dishonesty. Manipulation. Cunningness. Are these familiar?”
I stared at the old woman, unsure what to say, shaken to my core and wanting nothing more than to escape.
“How about this?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a hiss. “The Seven of Swords is a spy. An enemy. A thief. This”—another finger-stab—“is your present Tallus. This right here is who you are, isn’t it?”
“I have to go.” I didn’t know what was happening, but I was done hanging around. The woman was on crack. She was so far off her rocker she’d fallen into Crazyville. If she’d manipulated and murdered eleven people, I didn’t want to know about it anymore.
I wanted out.
“What about your future?” she said when I reached the door and rounded the corner into the hallway. “Aren’t you curious?”
“Nope. At this point, I’m going to play it by ear.”
The house was dark, and I tripped and stumbled over obstacles as I scrambled to find the front door. Shadows reachedout, spindly fingers belonging to nightmarish horrors. I brushed against a hanging fern and almost screamed. The botched session with Madame Rowena had sent my imagination into overdrive.
“I suggest minding your business,Tallus.” My name came out like a whipcrack, arising from somewhere close behind me. Was she following? “There is nothing to find. If you keep it up, the Devil card stares you in the eye. It is he who…”
I crashed into a side table, knocking something over, but didn’t stop. The door lay ahead. I saw it. My sweaty fingers slipped on the knob. Taking a firmer grip, I yanked it open and flung myself into the night, intent on running to my car and not looking back. I didn’t care if the cardio killed me. It was a better way to die than suffer whatever ominous threat Rowena suggested. But my escape ended abruptly when I collided with a brick wall.
A brick wall thatoofed and stumbled backward off the front stoop but at least had the good sense to secure me in his solid arms so I didn’t fall and break my neck with the speed of my foiled exit.
From inside the house, Madame Rowena was still giving me myfortune—if that was what you wanted to call it—shouting ominous threats about the Devil card, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Or the gods? Maybe she was conjuring Satan himself to take me to hell. Who knew?