Major Detours

by Zachary Sergi

  “For the record, I texted Lily when we first got here,” Seidon says as we all half-jog through the tunnel. “I only went through with separating you so we could help you get what you need faster and get off the island. I didn’t know what my mom really wanted either, but I knew it wouldn’t be as… selfless as she seemed.”

  “I can vouch for Seidon,” I say, even though I hate speaking the words. “It’s a long story, but let’s all talk about it back in Charvan.”

  “Wait,” Amelia says, grabbing my shoulder as we move. “Did you find out who Perilli mailed the deck to?”

  “Yes,” I answer directly.

  I then hesitate a beat. I know what this news will do to Amelia, the impact it will have. Though really, at this point, is there any other way to say this?

  “Perilli sent his final deck to Gran Flo, at your home address.”

  Amelia’s jaw falls open. I have to pull her along a little to keep her from stopping. I can tell her brain then begins to brim, just like mine. Obviously Carson Perilli must have known Gran Flo. And she felt the need to lie to us about where the deck came from. But why? And why teach us so much about it, then leave it to Amelia?

  “See, the cards are meant to be with you,” Seidon says. “Lily and I will make sure they stay with you, no matter what Mom wants.”

  “Did Perilli ever say anything about a woman named Florence Piccolo?” Amelia asks.

  “Not to us, no,” Seidon answers. “But we were still pretty young when we knew him. I think you’ve gotten all you will from here.”

  On that note, we fall into a rushed silence. We just keep moving through this labyrinthine tunnel hidden underneath the Isle of Baxter, our own cups feeling both drained and overflowing at the same time.

  As much as we all have to talk about, we found we couldn’t speak much over the roaring of the ocean wind on the boat ride back. My heart still pounds in my chest, despite how weary it feels. I couldn’t shake the feeling our boat might capsize in the middle of the windy sea, lost in the raging Pacific winds. Amelia kept looking over her shoulder, like Lady Azure might be right behind, speeding in the second boat to ambush us. I have a feeling these fears are going to linger, along with some other parting gifts from our very own Haunting of Baxter Isle.

  We now stand back outside Charvan. I just want to run and hide, but Seidon has insisted on saying goodbye for some reason.

  “Well, best of luck finding the other missing cards,” he tries. “I doubt you’ll want to after today, but I can give you my number if you need help with anything?”

  Seidon steps forward then, but not toward Logan. Instead, he steps to me.

  “What?” I blurt out. “Don’t you mean to give that to Logan?”

  “Oh, sure,” Seidon says, scratching his head. “Either way. You’re great, Logan.”

  He smiles over at Logan a beat, then turns back to me.

  “But if I’m being honest, you’re way more my type, Chase.”

  Shock seizes my body. What the actual hell?

  “But you’ve barely looked at me,” I say. The words seem to vomit themselves. This isn’t possible. There must be some mistake, some joke being played.

  “Yeah, well, I get nervous around—” Seidon’s face flashes with embarrassment for the first time all night. “You guys are great together, though, obviously. I don’t mean to—”

  “Dude, maybe read the room?” Cleo interrupts. I could kiss her.

  Seidon indeed steps away, but I just spin around.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I say, my back turned. “Logan, can we talk?”

  Logan and I sit in Charvan’s front seats, alone. We both look out the windshield, too afraid to look at each other. But the others are waiting, and we’ve already sat in silence too long. We need to get this over with.

  “I have to admit,” Logan says, beating me to it, “I did not love seeing Seidon hit on you like that, as entertaining as it might have been.”

  I don’t respond right away, because I’m pretty sure I feel another but coming on. Besides, I’m still not sure what to make of this whole Seidon thing. It just does not compute: Who would ever be attracted to me over Logan?

  “But still, it was kind of exciting, wasn’t it?” Logan finishes.

  Considering this question, something suddenly shifts. There are still mountains of mess to sort through, but in this moment, I know there’s only one way for me to begin doing so. Turning to Logan, I know…

  I’m furious about how Logan kept this from me, about not being enough for him. So I need some space to sort through what I want next.

  Click here

  I’m not really okay with how Logan handled this, but I don’t want to lose him. So I tell him it’s okay—at least until I decide maybe it’s not.

  Click here

  “I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret,” I say, my voice chillier than I intend. It just feels like right now if I give an inch, a mile of myself might collapse. “I think I need some time to sort through all this on my own.”

  “But, Chase…” Logan tries. “It’s me. We can talk about anything.”

  “Can we?” I ask, my implication clear. “You already told me what you want. So this isn’t about us anymore. It’s about deciding what I want, isn’t it?”

  Logan appears crushed, like I’m suddenly a stranger to him.

  Good. Now he knows how it feels.

  “It wasn’t an ultimatum, Chase,” Logan says, his tone pleading. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

  “You don’t mean that,” I say, my voice nearly cracking. “You can’t just take it back and make it disappear.”

  It occurs to me that all I want to do in this moment is bury myself in Logan’s shoulder. He’s the one who tells me it’s all going to be fine when something goes wrong. He’s the safe place I go when things aren’t right. So what do I do now that he’s the cause of the wrong?

  “Really, Logan. I just… I need to think. And I can’t do that with you here.”

  Logan looks like he doesn’t want to accept this. I don’t know if I mean the words, but right now pushing Logan away feels like the only option to save myself.

  So push I do, right into this uncharted territory, where everything feels numb and explosive at the same time.

  I push right into this next chapter, where nothing feels certain…

  And where Logan maybe doesn’t belong anymore?

  Click here

  The words leave my mouth, but I’m surprised by how hollow they sound.

  “Chase, do you really mean that?” Logan asks, his hand falling on my knee. “Or are you just saying that?”

  I turn away from Logan, my head falling.

  “I don’t know.”

  It might be seconds or it might be minutes, but eventually Logan’s hand leaves my knee.

  “Well, maybe I should give you some space?” he tries. “So you can decide?”

  “No.” I react on instinct, turning to Logan. “I don’t want that.”

  “Neither do I,” Logan says, looking pained once again. “But I also don’t want to force you into something you’re not sure about.”

  All I want to do is tell Logan no again. Tell him not to leave. That I don’t want to figure anything out without him. That I’ll do whatever it takes. That I love him.

  So then why do I say nothing at all?

  Click here

  PART THREE

  REPENTANT

  CHAPTER NINE

  AMELIA

  I SIT ON THE deck overlooking the dark forest and try to let the greens and browns soak into me. I try to let the trees remind me who I am, remind me why it’s still important to take this journey. For good measure, I also hold several tarot cards in my hand, hoping they’ll speak to me if the woods won’t.

  It’s only been one day since we left the Isle of Baxter, and the experience has most definitely stayed with us—especially since not all of us actually stayed. Last night we spent a pretty sleepless night at
a nearby motel, because Anwar claimed his home was too far and winding a trip to make that late. Then first thing this morning, Logan insisted on taking the bus home. I tried to talk both him and Chase out of it, but he and Chase barely spoke five words between them.

  Which is why, unbeknownst to Chase, I stole a secret moment with Logan when we dropped him at the nearest bus station.

  “Listen, I don’t know what happened, but I just need to say this before you go, because someone needs to,” I began. “You’re one of us, Logan. No matter what.”

  Tears had formed in Logan’s eyes then. I knew what this would mean coming from me in particular.

  “Thank you, Amelia,” Logan said. “This actually—”

  Logan had to stop himself from finishing, for fear of breaking down.

  “I still love him,” Logan tried finally. “And I never meant to hurt him. The fact that I did…”

  Logan couldn’t finish this sentence either, so I just pulled him into a hug.

  “I know. He knows,” I offered. “Just give him some time to do his Chase thought hurricane thing. You’ll sort it out once his brain-storm dies down.”

  I wasn’t so sure Chase’s brain was really the part of him in turmoil, but I had to say something. Thankfully, wiping at his face, Logan actually laughed.

  “Well, I hid something of mine in Chase’s bag,” he said. “He’ll know what it means when he sees it, hopefully.”

  I left Logan, having no idea what he hid for Chase. Even now, I’m still not sure if Chase knows. He hasn’t exactly been bursting with communication. I still can’t believe Logan isn’t going to be with us for this final part of the road trip. Almost as much as I can’t believe Anwar decided to join us.

  I was weirded out at first when Anwar kept us away from his home. Could there be a reason he also wanted to meet us in Solvang and not closer to his house? However, once he asked if he could join us to help find the next missing card, my doubts started to melt away. I’m impressed our detour to Coupled Cottage only seemed to fascinate Anwar instead of scare him off. I’m also impressed by how respectful he remained while still trying to engage. Maybe that’s why Cleo and Chase didn’t protest when I pitched the idea of Anwar filling our fourth seat. I wish Logan were still here, but I’m also happy Anwar is joining.

  After Logan left, we drove from Summerland up to Carmel by the Sea. We stopped for lunch at one of Cleo’s superb restaurant picks, where I was finally able to pry a few words out of Chase about what happened with Logan.

  “So… are you broken up?” I chose my question carefully, since Chase seemed not unlike an overheated computer.

  “I don’t know, honestly. I was too afraid to ask.”

  The words seemed almost impossible for Chase to muster, like speaking them was a Herculean task.

  “Well, maybe don’t go calling Seidon right away, in that case?”

  I meant it as a joke to help Chase smile, but it had the opposite effect. Ever since, Chase seems to have shut himself down, entering some kind of low-power mode. As much as I’m worried about him, I can’t say I blame him. Seidon had a lot of nerve, hitting on Chase in front of Logan that way. I can’t fathom what it must be like for Chase to feel a rift form with Logan. It’s upsetting even to me, seeing what I thought was an inseparable couple buckle under sudden pressure.

  After lunch, we stopped to buy Anwar some clothes for the next leg. Then we made our way through Monterey and fulfilled a solemn oath to Cleo to stop at the famous aquarium, which was a much-needed break. We also now have an excellent Cleo doodle of me, her, and Toky posing in front of a tank of glowing jellyfish.

  After that, we finally arrived at a rental house on the northern outskirts of town. Chase found this cozy log cabin last minute, choosing it because it’s closest to our next missing card: the King of Pentacles. The King’s coordinates pinpoint in the neighboring forest, so we plan to “camp” here before heading out first thing in the morning.

  Which means Anwar and I might actually get to share a room for the night. Chase and Cleo already went to bed, but Anwar was game to hang on the back deck and gaze at the stars a bit. He’s currently brewing us some of his “signature hot chocolate,” which has left me out here for a merciful moment to gather myself. Despite all the driving, I still haven’t had much time to process what happened in Coupled Cottage. Perhaps I’ve avoided doing so on purpose, if I’m being honest. I’ve evaded a panic attack so far, but after last night I know my anxiety tank is rising far too high—it’s bound to spill over if I don’t manage it.

  So I try to sift through the images that remain tattooed on my brain. The first is the sight of Lady Azure’s face, frozen with tears, gaunt and ghostly. I don’t really want to sort through what she might have deliberately done to us, to me…

  So instead, I dwell on a different moment imprinted on my mind.

  Back at Coupled Cottage, I recovered the Princess of Cups.

  Click here

  Back at Coupled Cottage, I did not recover the Princess of Cups.

  Click here

  I look down at the Princess of Cups, which I have placed at the top of the card stack. It’s surreal holding it in my hands; it’s like another small piece that has been missing my entire life is now found. The Princess feels like she overflows with meaning, given all I had to endure and overcome to save her.

  And I really do feel I saved her from Lady Azure’s clutches. I found a way to set the Princess of Cups free—and hopefully, in the process, I set some of the Baxters free as well.

  Especially because, staring down at the Princess, I now see only Lily’s face gazing back up at me. I know what I believed about hauntings and psychics and mediums before Lily led us into Coupled Cottage, but nothing could prepare me for what happened inside. I’m not sure if what I believe has actually changed, but how I feel about all of it? That has become a beast of an entirely different color.

  Of course, nothing truly compares with the revelation that Perilli mailed his final deck to Grandma—and that both of them went to such great lengths to keep it a secret. All I can really settle on is that it all obviously can’t have been a complete coincidence. So maybe if I can find the through line connecting these threads in the final two missing cards, then maybe I can finally solve some of these lingering mysteries?

  Click here

  I can only see the Princess of Cups drowning in that horrible tank.

  Part of me feels devastated to have lost the card this way, but another part feels like this might actually be a blessing in disguise. If coveting these Perillian cards is a path that inevitably leads to being like Lady Azure, then maybe it’s best I learn to let some of the cards go now?

  Then again, I did get a good look at the Princess before she was dunked. Which meant I could work with Cleo last night to recreate as much of the card as possible. She reminded me that we could technically make the card whatever we wanted, but I just felt it was right to do the original some kind of justice.

  So I now hold Cleo’s replacement card in my hands, at the top of the stack of Perillian cards. And Lily’s floating face gazes back up at me, drawn in Cleo’s signature style. I know what I believed about hauntings and psychics and mediums before Lily led us into Coupled Cottage, but nothing could prepare me for what happened inside. I’m not sure if what I believe has actually changed, but how I feel about all of it? That has become a beast of an entirely different color.

  Of course, nothing truly compares with the revelation that Perilli mailed his final deck to Grandma—and that both of them went to such great lengths to keep it a secret. All I can really settle on is that it all obviously can’t have been a complete coincidence. So maybe if I can find the through line connecting these threads in the final two missing cards, then maybe I can finally solve some of these lingering mysteries?

  Click here

  Right now I hold a stack of specific cards in my hands, hoping something will come to me: The Magician, The Lovers, The Empress, The Hanged Man, The Emperor,
and Death—the six cards designated by the Perillian toolset.

  In particular, I find myself focusing on The Empress and The Hanged Man. Unlike The Magician and The Lovers, which held the complete coordinates in their symbols, Perilli split the numbers for the missing King of Pentacles between the symbols of The Empress and The Hanged Man. My best guess is that these two cards are tied to the nature vibes of Pentacles, in addition to being tied together numerically: the one and two that make up The Hanged Man’s twelve also add up to three, The Empress.

  Could this be part of why I feel drawn to Anwar, this connection between our own expressions? Is this why I’ve trusted him joining this journey? Or is this just my mind assigning meaning to another coincidence, however powerful it might be?

  “Hey, isn’t that my tarot card alter ego or something?” Anwar asks, reappearing on the deck with two steaming cups of cocoa.

  “Indeed it is,” I answer, putting the cards down to accept my mug.

  “He seems kind of… I don’t know, messed up?”

  Anwar looks down at The Hanged Man, and I understand this initial reaction. I used to be spooked by this card, too, until I learned the true depths of its meaning.

  “Actually, The Hanged Man is one of the more sophisticated cards,” I begin. “It represents a resolution, using your circumstances to open up to a new world. His hanging upside down isn’t ominous; it actually represents a pivotal moment in a journey between worlds, looking to both.”

  I finish speaking to find Anwar staring back at me with a strange expression on his face. Some mix of pain and maybe… adoration? Looking him over, his strong nose and wavy black hair and liquid eyes, I can’t help but feel like he could maybe be a turning point for me, a gateway into a new perspective. Goddess knows he already flips my stomach upside down.