by R. E. Rose
She gave me her beaming smile, and I mellowed. “But wait. Show me more. What happens when you push the planchette to UP and spin the wheel?” I asked.
“We lose some gravity and begin to float. Those are settings that can’t be used.”
“Can’t be used, but why have them?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“I didn’t build it. Whoever built this wheel knew what he or she was doing, but I don’t really know everything.”
“And what about Luck? If you set the planchette for Luck and spin the wheel and it lands on Good Luck, what happens? And do you ever cheat and just roll it around to Good Luck?”
She laughed. “Of course, you can’t cheat. The wheel knows if it’s spun freely or if it’s being placed. Only free spins make it work; chance landings make the magic. You set the planchette for Good Luck, and spin, an inner arrow will point to the numbers here. See the inner circle of numbers. Those are the number of days you’ll have good luck.”
“Does anyone ever set if for Bad Luck?” I asked.
“It can be set to cast bad luck on others,” she said in a quiet voice, almost a whisper.
“Really?” I said, shocked.
“Yup.”
“But Temmie, this is the most powerful magical item I’ve come across in the deck so far. Who will occupy the card with this item?” Temmi didn’t smile. She looked over her shoulder back to the truck.
“You’re boyfriend?” I asked. She made no expression. “Who is he?”
“Someone you’ll soon meet. But I can’t tell you who he is or what he does in town. Not yet. It’s not time yet. But I can tell you he doesn’t reside in this card, not yet.”
“But he’s right there in the truck waiting for you. Should I walk over with you and meet him?”
“No. It’s not the time for you two to meet. I shouldn’t have dropped the card. If I hadn’t dropped the tarot card, you wouldn’t have found it, and we wouldn’t be meeting like this. It’s my fault that we’ve met now instead of much later, but it can’t be helped,” she said.
I really wanted to go meet him, the boyfriend, and yet when I looked over to the truck, I got such a dark feeling.
“Is your boyfriend’s name, Gordon? From Koldwell Bank?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Oh, never mind,” I said. I took a chance on that one, but I changed my mind. That couldn’t be Gordon. The guy in the truck exuded too much negativity even for a banker.
“Does Maisie know him?” I asked. “Your boyfriend?”
She nodded, gently, “Of course. She’s known him forever, practically. He was one of the first members of her cursed tarot deck. Once he was her boyfriend.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“Yes,” Temmie said. “I hope–” she stopped herself.
“What do you hope?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“Tell me, please. What do you hope?”
“That you’ll come,” she said.
“Come? Come where?”
“To the carnival,” she said.
“Are you going?” I asked.
“Of course. It’s so much fun.”
“Then I will go to the carnival,” I said, and it felt like I meant it.
Temmie clapped her hands like a child. She picked up the antique Wheel-of-Fortune and carried it back to the truck. I saw her push it into the back then spin the wheel just a little. She pulled over the old quilted blanket and snapped up the tailgate.
Temmie climbed into the cab and beamed at me through the back window. She waved hard.
“Come see me at the shop some time,” she said, sticking her head out the side window.
I headed in her direction, wanting more of the Temmie vibe, but she had pushed the planchette on the wheel, and the wheel still spun, even as it sat under the quilt in the back of the vehicle. The truck and its passengers faded, and in a moment, it was as if she’d never been there at all.
8.
Golden Chariot
By the time I got home, I’d blown most of my “get ready” time for my date with Shane, an incredibly gorgeous fireman I found on online when I searched up dating groups. I love serial dating. I get such a kick from meeting a new person with all kinds of possibilities waiting to be explored.
I made it a couple of steps past the door of my condo when I heard a familiar “Meeeroow.” Sia! I got excited and raced to the kitchen hoping to catch my missing cat eating her crunchies, but when I got there, I saw no sign of the cat, or William.
I’d chased Theodosia all over town, having spied her in the craziest places, mostly squirming inside the pockets of people holding her for ransom. I never did get her back.
Yet, now it sounded as if she’d magically arrived home.
I swore I’d heard Sia chowing down on her food in her usual noisy and slobbery fashion.
With no time to figure it out, I had to assume William or Glendie brought her back, and the skittish cat lay low in some dark corner of the condo. Later, after my date, I’d celebrate and welcome her home.
I got ready.
My short hair didn’t need much, a little combing and gel made it good to go. The second can of magic hairspray I’d taken from Maisie hadn’t gone into the safety deposit box with most of the other magical items and trinkets.
I used the magical hairspray but I didn’t use much--it made me a little nervous not knowing how much might make me total putty in someone’s hands. I popped the can into my purse. I’d take a wait-and-see attitude before I “enhanced” any more of my charms.
Also, the styling spray made a man or woman swoon after touching the affected hair, and according to Maisie, the spray boosted the wearer’s IQ. Whatever, it affected both wearer and admirer.
While I tried to decide on an outfit, my mind raced with the latest Maisie confession.
“The deck’s guardian can have the majors come and go as she pleases.”
Maisie had tried discussing guardianship of the deck with me, once again. No reason to take on that responsibility. If she didn’t like the situation she’d created, then she had to figure that one out – alone.
Maisie’s clutches reached beyond dimensions, and I didn’t doubt she was scheming up something that included me. A setup by her wouldn’t surprise me. Her little pep-talk about the greatness of being the deck’s guardian intrigued me. Who wouldn’t want more power? But at what price? My personal freedom means too much to me. I told myself.
Yet, even though our talk revealed her diabolical manipulations, a part of me felt attracted to the idea of becoming the deck’s guardian.
I believed every move Maisie made was her sleight of hand intended to keep me looking in the wrong direction while she put her true designs for me in place.
Once again, I heard Sia prowling. She liked to lie around on high objects until she got bored, and then jump down with a giant thud. Her leaps and thumps rattled the china and the windows. I paused and listened, when I didn’t hear any more, I continued outlining my eyes.
I finished painting my eyes and applying a nice smoky, grey shadow. I batted my lashes at myself and gave a three-quarter profile in the mirror. I did look great!
I finally found my favourite shade of lipstick. I bit my lips gently, a couple of times to make them fatter and slathered on the coral moon shade. Pressing my lips together to make sure everything got a bit of colour then gave them a big smack. I liked my life. In fact, I loved my life!
Shane had told me he wanted to take me out for a nice dinner; what a nice surprise! Normally dates wanted to meet for a quick coffee or glass of wine and then be on their way, usually on their way to my place. But wined and dined ahead of time sounded good to me.
Let’s see, what else did I need for this date?
Ah-ha, the other magical, fallback date-item besides the hairspray was the bottomless bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from Joseph Seer, the character from the Fool card. Poor Joe Seer turned out to be an actual wino that lived in Meadowvale,
and he’d done something to annoy Maisie, because she put him in her deck. He seemed like an okay guy to me, but you never really know how a tarot character has offended her until you get real close and personal.
Turns out that Joseph Seer and Bobby Bentley, the neighborhood skateboarder kid, belonged to the same card, two characters in one card, the young and old fools, although young Bobby seemed anything but foolish, more of an adventurer. Together they occupied one of only two cards with two characters, the Lovers, of course, being the other.
My final date-toy was the set of magic “golden handcuffs” from Justine Day, the character from the Justice card. I didn’t think I’d need them for this date, but you never know, so I dropped them into my purse. Maybe he knew something about them that I didn’t. You never know in this crazy town.
Sometimes I could make them work, but most of the time I couldn’t. I sensed a strong magical power from those cuffs, which made me want to keep them close by.
Now Justine was once a bona fide member of the Meadowvale police force, and when she was out of her Justice card, she normally remained a reliable and upright member of her police unit. But lately, her personality, when released from the cursed tarot deck, made her a “crazy cop.”
Maisie won’t tell me what offense Justine committed to end up a prisoner inside a tarot card. But that hasn’t stopped me from using her magic handcuffs a couple of times. One time I ended up locking myself to my staircase.
I suspect that Justine’s story, once I know it, will allow me to figure out the magic of the cuffs. I’ve kept them for future fun boudoir antics, and maybe there will be some of that tonight, but at this time the cuffs control me more than I control them.
Everything I needed for a good date sat before me. I was good to go, or so I thought. Then I heard Sia again. Something crashed in the bedroom. I raced there only to find my toiletries on top of my dresser had met their Waterloo. I rushed around the bedroom looking for the cat in time to see only her lingering grin and a flickering shadow of a tail. Now, she existed only in the Cheshire dimension.
Normally, she wore a pink rhinestone kitty collar but whoever dropped her off this evening, either William or Glendie, removed the collar, yet they both knew better than to do that. Until that collar fastened around her neck, Sia remained mostly invisible and behaved in a crazy, rambunctious cat manner inside my condo. I’d never catch her until she ruined everything! My curtains snagged and ripped as the heavy weight of her invisible cat body shredded them,
“Sia, stop,” I yelled. The doorbell rang, and I heard the heavy and now completely invisible cat drop to the floor.
Shane Apollo arrived on my doorstep right on time, and he looked like everything I’d ever imagined with a name like that.
OMG, he stood about six-three, black hair to his shoulder, strong face, not too babyish, he’d obviously had some life experience. I body scanned him and stopped breathing.
Finally, he said, “Jane?”
I nodded like a little girl. I hoped I didn’t go squeeee after I opened the door. From behind his back, he pulled out a bouquet of flowers, so large they buried me. I grabbed his hand and pulled him in. He looked about thirty-five. His classic, clean-cut-stud-of- a- calendar-fireman look had me reaching for that magic hairspray in my purse. I wanted him to find me one hundred percent attractive.
“Shane?” I said, around the bouquet of roses. He nodded.
He started the conversation with, “You’re even more beautiful in real life than in the virtual one. Usually, it’s the other way around,” he said, smiling so hard I swear sparks squeezed from his blue eyes.
And I said, “You’re every bit as beautiful as your calendar picture!” And then I told myself to shut up because this wasn’t a compliment competition. I took a big, deep breath and pulled him over to the couch.
We spent some time in my condo and got to know each other a bit, and our moves seemed synchronized and harmonious, smiling, touching, holding hands, sipping carbonated water and then Sia ran across the keys of my electric keyboard to remind me of her presence. Horrified, I looked at Shane. He laughed.
“Nice trick,” he said. I nodded. I didn’t know what to say. But Sia did.
“Meeeeroooow!
“You’ve got a cat.” He put down his glass of water. “A serious one.” He added. I nodded and sat there, dumbfounded.
“She’s hungry. Better go feed her.” He let go of my hand. I left him in the living room and went to the kitchen and into the fridge for a new can of cat food. Her pink collar sparkled up at me from the fridge shelf.
Who did this? Someone had returned my cat and left her collar in the fridge, where I usually left it when I removed it, which was pretty much never. Three people knew my habits: Glendie, William and Devon! I’d figure it out another time, but I had my suspicions.
Trying to get that collar back on the cat might ruin my date night with Shane, but leaving the house with an invisible Cheshire in the house – not gonna happen.
I grabbed the big bag of her crunchies and pulled them to the middle of the kitchen floor and poured out a mountain of them. I grabbed her favourite kitty drink that I buy at the pet food store and carefully poured a line around the crunchies making a circle of sorts. I found some of her toys and a ball of wool I’d let her play with and placed them at various points, five to be exact, around her crunchies and then the ring of milk. I made sure the picture looked tight but no one thing touched any other, but something was missing.
“How’s it going in there?” Shane called out from the living room.
“Oh, she’s tricky,” I yelled, “It may take a minute to catch her.” I didn’t know what to do, really.
“I’ll help,” he said.
OMG. “SSSuure,” I said, wracking my brain for the item that felt missing from the pattern. The collar! I went to the fridge and grabbed it. When I closed the door, Shane stood in the kitchen studying the design I made on the floor.
“You’re a witch,” he said calmly.
My heart sank. No one called me that. “Ah, oh no, no-o-o, no-o. It’s a game I play with the cat, Sia. That’s her name.”
“Short for Theodosia?” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yeee-ah. How’d you know?” I asked, truly puzzled.
He shrugged.
“You need something of hers in there, or it won’t work,” he said even more matter-of-factly, like he’d performed this kind of thing a million times. I held up her collar, to show him. I placed in the center of the pile of crunchies when Shane asked to see it. I paused. I didn’t want to give it to him. Without it, Sia couldn’t return to me.
But I handed it over anyway. He studied it a minute.
“Just as I thought, a Cheshire. Interesting,” he said, then handed it back.
Cheshire. He knew about them! I stood in the middle of the small circle I’d made, holding the pink rhinestone collar, encircled by kitty milk all punctuated by the toys and wool I’d placed at five points around the circle. Shane stood outside the pattern. The power in me built. The longer I stood there with the collar in hand, the more the magic rose like water pressure in a pipe. Shane put his hand to his necklace charm he wore. I’d noticed it earlier, flashing from between the open buttons on his shirt. “I have some power over animals,” he said.
I quickly waved him into the circle.
He joined me. He took my hands, and that did it. I sneezed the biggest, aaaapphhhhooooooie, ever! All over Shane.
OMG! I was mortified.
Just then Sia walked into the kitchen looking very much like a ghost about to become more invisible. I grabbed the collar, leaped from the circle and in one single movement; I snapped the collar around her neck. She stood there and licked me a couple of times then wandered away.
I looked at Shane. He wiped sneeze droplets from his face and neck. He stopped a moment to look at Sia as she sauntered out of the kitchen.
“Cheshires. Very helpful critters,” he said, stepping out. “Where’s your washroo
m?” he inquired, holding his hands away from him like poisonous creatures. I pointed down the hall. I felt so embarrassed that I’d sneezed all over him—my words left me.
I heard him wash up.
He came back and acted like nothing happened, which I really appreciated. Then he said, “By the way, did you know you have a ghostly dead body lying in your bathtub?”
I’d been reapplying my lipstick as he informed me. I stopped mid stroke. “Ah, ah, Oh, it’s just a PFD,” I said, hoping he’d leave it at that.
“What’s that?”
“You know, personal floatation device.” He nodded but looked skeptical.
“Just a minute. I’ll be right back,” I said. “I need to tinkle.” I wanted to run from the living room to the bathroom, but I forced myself to walk. When I reached the bathroom door, I burst in and tore back the shower curtain. OMG , there, filling my tub, was the ghostly, very dead body of Gordon from Koldwell Bank. I thought I’d gotten rid of this stalking ghost.
Shane appeared right behind me.
“That’s Gordon Schmidt, one of the members of the board of directors from Koldwell Bank,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You know him?” I asked.
“A little. Strange that he looks dead and ghostly here. I only just saw the fellow today. We were doing a fundraiser outside of the hardware store when he stopped to buy a hotdog and cola for the Firemen’s Fund.
“Really?” I asked. Then, thankfully, Gordon’s ghostly dead body disappeared right before our eyes.
“That was very weird,” I said.
Shane nodded in agreement. “Sure was.”
My head pounded. Shane didn’t seem very concerned about the appearance, so I thought I’d take a cue from him and try to forget about it. I’d take it more seriously later, after our night together.
We got right back into our date mode.
We got cozy, ping-ponged more small talk and got comfortable under a big pile of “you’re so beautiful” comments to one another. I poured bubbly water, we chatted, and I sat so my legs were at their best angle. He behaved politely and graciously and said all kinds of wonderful things I’d never heard a man say.
