Lily wasn’t in the Purple Burro or Frank’s, so he headed back to Sara’s Book and Candle Shop. Sara sat behind the counter reading a book about Kabbalah. Another subject as arcane to him as flower arrangement or playing the cello.
“Hello again,” Sara said. She had a friendly face.
Ray nodded.
“Half-price Tarot readings today,” she said. “If you’re interested.”
“No, thanks,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. He’d had enough backwoods voodoo for the time being. Although he didn’t believe in telling fortunes with cards, it still made him uneasy. What if the Death card came up, as it surely must, just like the ace of spades, by the laws of probability? Would he drop dead days later, like when a witch doctor pointed a skeleton finger at someone and they died just from the belief that it really would kill them? He’d pass.
She smiled. “How about a cup of tea?”
Ray hesitated. He was dreadfully thirsty. “Sure.”
The old woman turned toward a hot water dispenser, put some loose tea into a tiny silver tea ball, and dropped the tea ball in a mug. Ray smiled at the neon blue running shoes poking from beneath her batik hippie dress.
She handed him the cup. Her fingers were bony and age-spotted. “Sit down,” she said, pointing to a chair next to a table covered in black velvet.
He stared, perplexed. But she stood, unwavering, one hand holding a mug and another beckoning toward a plastic folding chair.
He sat. The old woman grabbed a wooden box off a shelf on the wall and sat down across from him. She opened up the box and pulled out a rectangular black silk bundle and unwrapped it reverently. Her cards. She dropped the yellowed stack on the table. “Shuffle them.”
She looked so friendly and earnest that he couldn’t say no. He picked the cards up and shuffled. The cards were bigger than playing cards, worn, and stained. He awkwardly put the stack down when he was done.
“Are you left- or right-handed?” she asked.
“Right,” Ray said.
She pointed to his left hand. “Cut them,” she said.
He did as she asked. Sara picked up the stack and placed it in front of her. Her eyes closed. She breathed deeply and sighed. “You’re a stranger here.”
“Yes,” Ray said slowly. As if that weren’t painfully obvious.
She turned over a card. Death.
Of course. What else would it be?
She looked closely at him. “It’s not what you think.”
Ray snickered. “Well, I’ll bet it doesn’t mean I’m going to win the lottery.”
Her knobby middle finger tapped the card. “Death is not physical death—death of the body. Look at the picture.” She sipped her tea.
A skeleton in black armor rode on a white horse. Below the rider, trampled underfoot, was a king, his crown upside down in the dirt. In front of the rider stood a priest in yellow robes and a large hat, reaching out in supplication, as if begging Death to pass him by. A woman fainted in front of the skeletal horseman, while a dark-haired child holding flowers gazed expressionless at the rider’s bony visage.
“It looks deadly to me,” Ray said. He sipped his tea. It tasted odd, like an accumulation of all the smells in the store.
“Relax,” she said. “Look closer. Everything must die to be born again—change is inevitable. See the child looking on? All the priest’s holiness will not stop Death. The woman faints away at the sight, unable to face her mortality. Only the child is not afraid. The child goes innocently into death. We must be like the child and not be afraid of the changes in our lives when they come, but seek to accept and understand them. That makes sense to you, doesn’t it?”
He shrugged.
She flipped over the next card. The Fool. A gaily dressed man walked toward the edge of a precipice. A little white dog yapped at his heels. But the Fool looked skyward, unaware, poised to step off the cliff.
“You have started a new life,” the woman said. She ran a fingernail from the Death card to the Fool. “Your old life is gone. Utterly. The future lies before you, uncertain. There is great potential and great risk for you. Circumstances are pushing you along, and you must stay in motion and pay attention. Do you understand?”
Ray nodded. He’d play along.
She turned over another card, placing it next to Death. The Empress, a golden-haired woman on a pillow-covered bench. She held a scepter and wore a crown of stars. But the card was upside down.
“This woman touches you,” she said. “She is new to you, maybe someone you are romantically drawn to. But circumstances do not favor your coming together. There are forces that may keep you apart, forces that neither of you yet understands.”
He nodded.
She placed another card directly below The Empress. The High Priestess, sitting between two pillars, one black and one white, holding a scroll. She wore a strange hat and had piercing dark eyes.
“Another woman.” Sara looked directly into Ray’s eyes. Her eyes were bright, almost aquamarine blue. “This woman—the High Priestess—is wise. And she holds secrets. I think you are drawn to her, too, and she to you. The energy is powerful, sexual and mysterious. But it’s ambivalent. There’s something I’m not picking up on.”
The room seemed to be breathing, the walls swelling inward and outward with his breath. Had she put something in his tea? Or was it just an aftereffect of the drugs from Crawford’s party? Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Just one more,” she said. She pulled the last card, and Ray caught his breath. The Devil.
“All trump cards,” she said. “Very interesting. When a reading is only trumps, with no minor arcana, it means this is a crucial point in your life. The things you are experiencing now are very important. You must pay close attention to everything that happens and remain cautious and alert.” She looked up. “Ray, tell me what you see. In this card. Go ahead. Pick it up.”
“It’s the Devil,” he said. “Horns, wings, the whole works.”
“And who stands in front of him?”
“A woman. And a man. Naked.”
She smiled. “And they are connected how?”
“By chains,” he said. “Around their necks.”
“Yes. But the chains are loose. Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t know.”
“The chains don’t really hold them, Ray. They willfully yoke themselves to the beast. They can escape, but their desires keep them enslaved. Desire can lead us to make very bad decisions. Does that make sense to you?”
He nodded. “Yes. I guess.” The urge to flee was overpowering. He took a small sip of his tea. “How much do I owe you?” he asked, digging for his wallet.
“You don’t owe me anything. I only want you to remember what I said. You will remember? You are at a point in your life where much hangs in the balance. The decisions you make must not be made without careful consideration.”
He nodded, standing up. He bumped the table and some of his tea splashed onto the black tablecloth.
“Light a white candle when you need strength,” she said.
Sara’s cat stared at him. It watched him as he walked to the front door. The coppery bells jangled as the door closed behind him.
He drove around for a half hour, looking for Lily’s Jeep. He stopped by the library, but it was closed. His brain was still out of whack, and twice on the drive he thought he saw someone or something moving in his peripheral vision on the side of the road.
The orange cat waited for him by Kevin’s front door. Still no sign of Kevin’s car. Dammit. Was Ellen right? Did Kevin know Crawford and Lily?
No. Not Kevin. But he had been scared. And maybe it was the two of them he’d been afraid of.
Ray scratched under the cat’s chin, and it rubbed against his leg. He slid the key into the keyhole and opened the door.
The phone was ringing.
He put down his bags and picked up the phone, checking the caller ID. Unknown caller.
Kevin—it had to be. Finally. “Hello?”
“Hi, Ray,” Lily said.
His breath caught in his chest. “I was hoping you’d call.”
She laughed. “I’m assuming you’re okay, then. I was really worried about you the other night. You were in rough shape.” Her voice was soft.
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I was.” Thanks to that shit you gave me.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I’m sorry if I pushed you to do things. I was pretty far gone myself when you got there.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I apologize. And I’d like to make it up to you. By buying you dinner. My treat. What are you doing tomorrow night?”
His brain seized up. This wasn’t going according to his plan. She was taking control again. And if he was going to see her, to find out what she knew and what had happened, he needed to stay in control.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just want to make up for my bad behavior. Just dinner and a couple glasses of wine. I promise.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m really not sure what happened that night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t remember much after we took the Ecs—the stuff. I remember going for a swim, then the rest is a blank. I don’t know how I acted. Or what I did.”
“Oh, Ray, you were fine,” she said. “Stop being so hard on yourself. We both fell asleep after we went swimming—passed out is more like it. I woke up, and then Crawford helped me get you into your car. You were out cold and snoring. I drove you home, and he followed me. We carried you in and put you to bed.”
He sighed. He’d blacked out, pure and simple. Of course, it might not have been that simple at all. But he’d have to see her to find out.
“So what do you say? Dinner? Tomorrow night?”
He paused. “Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight. Gotta run—I’m late for an appointment. Bye, Ray.” He said goodbye and hung up the phone.
He sat in silence. Had he really just agreed to go to dinner with her? She was awfully good at taking charge.
“It’s just dinner,” he said. “Nothing more.”