Chapter Twenty-Four

Skokie was good to me. I was working my ass off, but between Tarot readings and selling potions, I’d made over twelve hundred in the past two days. At this rate, I would be in the black by the end of the season. I was doing a reading every half hour or so. I was exhausted, but you have to make hay while the sun shines. At least I found a scarf that didn’t have itchy dangles.

It was three o’clock. I was trying to sneak out to get some lunch when two pear-shaped women in their fifties yoo-hooed. “Could you give us a Tarot reading?”

“But of course,” I said, using my best Bela Lugosi imitation. “Madam Magda sees an interesting aura around you and your sister.” The family resemblance was unmistakable, as was the necklace on the bigger pear, which said, “Big Sis”.

“Oooh, how did you know?” they chorused in unison.

“It is but a small thing. I am the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. I see much. The cards foretell many wonders. Come inside, ladies.” I led them through the tent flap.

My fee for the reading was stowed in a cloth bag. I didn’t stuff my bra for women. The little sister, who went first, was wearing some sort of elaborate religious pin. As she shuffled the cards, I said, “Did you know the original Tarot cards came from deeply religious people who had a bit of a second sight. They used the cards to invoke Saints, the Holy Spirit, and the Virgin Mary to give them inspiration.”

“Really?” they chorused again. That would get irritating pretty fast if they kept it up.

“Of course.” What I said was patently untrue. The Tarot was invented in the 1500s as a card game for bored Aristocrats. A hundred years later, charlatans started using the cards for fake occult readings. Sometimes, it is wiser to lie. “God gives sensitives our gifts,” I continued. “The cards are just a guide.” This was my standard shtick with religious types. It was going to work with these ladies. I remembered the crazy sky pilot I had chilled in Cleveland. The line would not have worked on him.

The women today were wearing homemade skirts and hand embroidered blouses. I took a chance. “All our gifts come from God, like your skill with sewing.” I tilted my head and smiled my best enigmatic smile.

The Pears looked at each other, their eyes widening.

Most of what I do is simply pay attention. Watching people at the carnival since I was a child, I can guess a lot of information. Most people didn’t realize how obviously their body language projected what they were thinking. I threw in a little pop psychology guided by the random turnover of the cards, and voila, I create a mystical experience.

I had Religious Sister cut the cards. The first card turned was the Ace of Swords. “You have overcome much in the past. Through your studies and careful examination of your motives, you have persevered.” I watched Big Sis nodding slightly. The Page of Wands was next. “Ah, a messenger of good fortune for your career. What do you do, my dear?”

She giggled. A woman of a “certain age” should never giggle. It’s creepy. “I’m a secretary at a church. I don’t know how my career could change?”

“The next card should tell us what your good fortune might be. Trust the cards, my dear.” I loved rolling my r’s when I said trust. The Two of Cups came up. “Most people would think the Lovers card represents romance, but actually, the Two of Cups is the real romance card in the Tarot deck. Have you made a new friend recently?”

“I bet it’s the new visiting Pastor. The one who came to speak at our services for the next few weeks,” Big Sis interjected.

Religious Sis said, “He does seem friendly, in a stern sort of way.” Her eyebrows rose questioningly.

“This card says if you are your best self, a friendship may develop…possibly a romance,” I replied with a tilt of my head and a Mona Lisa smile.

The incongruous girly giggle made my jaw clench. A few more cards turned, and her budding romance led to a wonderful life with all she could want.

The cards for Big Sis foretold the gift of healing of a minor medical complaint, and all her children marrying well. The sisters were too easy. They broadcast body language and told each other possible scenarios for every turn of the cards. All I had to do was give the standard explanation of each card, and they filled in the blanks.

They bought a wrinkle elimination potion, also known as face cream. They left, as we say in the trade, a couple of Whistling Gophers, as happy as a mark could be. I was happy too, as well as sixty bucks richer.

Myra came in, pulled the door flap, and flipped over my closed sign. “You need to eat, or you’re going to drop over.” She shoved a steak gyro in my face.

My stomach rumbled in anticipation. “You are a life-saver, girlfriend.” I wolfed down the spicy meal in a pita. “The lowly gyro, everything a growing girl needs.”

“Not quite.” A large lemonade emerged from the Bugs Bunny sack Myra toted around.

“If I were gay, I’d marry you.”

She grinned at me. “I’m not gay, and I’d still marry you, as long as you didn’t mind me getting a little bit on the side.”

“No way. I’m the jealous type. You just want me for the glamorous lifestyle which you would soon become accustomed to,” I said.

She gave me the finger. Myra was staying at my place at night. Normally, she slept in the bunkhouse with a bunch of other girls. I told her I was still spooked by my trip to the Outlands with Tom and wanted company. What I really wanted was to make sure she took her medicine and stayed reasonably sober. Today, it looked like she was doing a better job taking care of me.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” I said through a mouthful of gyro.

“It’s a dirty job, but somebody has to do it,” she replied. “I have to get back to work. Skinny Phil is a slave driver.” Myra was running Phil’s Basketball Shoot Off stand this week.

“Flip my sign on your way out.”

“Got it.” She sashayed out. She had lost more weight and had started with a rough cough. I needed to talk to Doc and see if there was anything more we could do for her, or him for that matter.

My next customer was a tall blonde man in his early thirties, carrying a bewildered goldfish in a bag. He must have been visiting Janie’s fish drop stand. He was kind of cute, in a nerdy sort of way. He wore a T-shirt over dress pants and shoes. He was very fit. The shirt was tight enough to see his six-pack, which wasn’t quite as good as the ones on the centaurs. I appreciated his more though, since we were the same species.

“Hi,” he said earnestly. He had a nice voice, a rich baritone. The kind of voice you want to hear with your ear on his chest. “Can I get my cards read?”

“But of course. What do you want to learn from the cards?” My voice had unconsciously dropped to match his. I felt a little surge of hormones. It had been a while since I had gotten lucky, but I can’t remember when I had such a reaction to a random mark.

“Let’s just see what the cards have to say.”

“Ah, a skeptic. Madam Magda will make a believer of you, I think.” I gave him my best corn fed, middle class girl smile, totally blowing the Magda mystic. He watched while I tucked his payment in my blouse and blushed when I caught him looking. He was so cute. This was going to be fun.