The Fifth Day

by Gordon Bonnet

  By this time, Gary, Lissa, and Jeff had arrived, and Z repeated her story.

  “It wasn’t the same thing we saw before?” Lissa asked.

  “No. Completely different. It was a woman with a cane and a red-checked scarf. She looked at me like… like she wanted to eat me.”

  “Eat you?” Lissa’s smile was incredulous.

  “I know. It sounds ridiculous. But she was like the Witch from Hansel and Gretel. I don’t know why she let me go. When I screamed, I closed my eyes. Only for a second. Then I opened them, and she was gone.” She paused. “Did any of you see her?”

  Margo shook her head. “I didn’t. I turned when I heard you scream. You were the only one standing here.”

  Ben put his hands on his hips. “I believe you, Z.”

  “I don’t disbelieve you,” Margo held up her hands defensively. “Just because we didn’t see the old woman doesn’t mean she wasn’t real. Ben was right about the Tree Creature, after all.”

  Zolzaya looked at Gary, who stood to one side, face closed and grim.

  “At least she’s gone.” Margo said.

  Jeff snorted. “The evil isn’t.”

  “Jeff…” Margo began, but Jeff shook his head urgently.

  “No. We have to be honest. We can’t make ourselves feel better by telling lies. The evil is still here. It’s all around us. But there’s safety in numbers.” He looked around at them. “It was a mistake to let you stay behind by yourself, Z. We shouldn’t go anywhere alone.”

  “For once,” she said, “I think Jeff’s exactly right.”

  4

  WHO DISTURBS THE repose of the Old Ones? came a voice.

  It issued from everywhere and nowhere. No single mind conceived the question, no single mouth said the words. The whole forest spoke to them, and it was deep and rich and melodious, dark like sighing notes of a cello.

  We only ask for passage through, one of them said. Then each looked around, wondering who had dared answer, who had the courage to utter speech in such a place, where no human had ever trod, where no human voice had ever spoken.

  Passage to where? said the voice. Where are you going?

  And it was curious; the kind of curiosity a tiger shows to a deer it has cornered. The kind of curiosity that studies, its ears perked and its head tipped to the side, right before it rends and slays.

  Through the woods, another of them said. Through the woods and out the other side.

  What makes you think that there is an “out?” said the voice.

  All woods end. So the stories of our ancestors tell.

  Ah, mocked the voice. Who am I to argue with the stories of your ancestors? Then it said, and it sounded reluctant to say so much: Yes, the woods end eventually. But the beasts you will meet before then, before the trees thin and you see sunlight again… They will try to stop you, you know. They will want to keep you here.

  Why? one asked, and his speech trembled even to speak the word.

  Why? the voice echoed, full of humor and oldness and darkness. Because if you stay in the forest long enough, you will become a beast yourself. Did you not know that?

  —

  IT WAS EVENING, and they had finished cleaning up after an odd supper of salad, tuna sandwiches—probably the last time they’d dare use the mayonnaise—apples, and some rapidly-melting ice cream for dessert. Lissa and Gary had ventured back out, first to Julia’s house and then to Gary’s apartment, to fetch some necessities before returning to Ben’s house for the evening.

  The move felt final. When Lissa closed the door to Julia Alvarez’s trim little cottage, it was turning her back on a whole piece of her life.

  She knew, somehow, that she would never open that door again.

  She knew, too, that she needed to be honest with them. They’d been completely straight and aboveboard with her. Even Gary had, in his own weird way. But they still didn’t know she was a lesbian, didn’t know that the person she’d lost was a woman, that she was dishonoring Julia’s memory by denying even her gender. Ben had talked about remembering their lost loved ones today, and she couldn’t even bring herself to say her lover’s name to them. Nor to tell them who she, herself, was.

  The habit of secrecy, established through long years of public school, college, and working her way up the academic ladder, handed her the familiar refrain.

  Not yet.

  But now, the dinner dishes had been cleared, and they were bringing out the Tarot cards. Z had told her they’d predicted correctly more than once, right before It happened. Would they do so again tonight?

  If so, would the cards themselves out her? And if they did, would she be cast out, rejected, the outcome that had always terrified her? To be ostracized now would be devastating—there was nowhere to go, no one else to turn to.

  She considered going upstairs or possibly outside to sit in the lounge chairs she’d seen by the swimming pool earlier in the day. It wouldn’t look suspicious, considering the scorn she’d voiced for the whole thing earlier. But some unexpected curiosity kept her there, a scientific need to see if the rules of the game had actually changed this much.

  She couldn’t let this crazy situation rot her brain. No matter what, there had to be a logical, rational reason behind all of this. There was a pattern here, even if she was not seeing it yet. If she started down the road to credulity, there’d be no telling where she’d end up.

  So, as Z removed the plastic wrap from the box of Tarot cards, she’d reacted in precisely the way she knew they expected.

  “You can’t be serious,” she’d said, with a grin.

  “It worked before.” Margo’s face was set in a stubborn scowl.

  “Superstitious nonsense. But no harm if it amuses you.”

  Z objected briefly, herself, but it sounded half-hearted. “What if I get all sorts of pronouncements of death? That’s what happened last time. I don’t want to freak anyone out.” Her gaze flickered toward Ben.

  The boy drew himself up. “I’m not afraid. Can I go first?”

  “Even if it’s bad news, forewarned is forearmed,” Margo said.

  So, there they all were, with the exception of Jeff, who had pronounced it the work of the devil and retreated to his study/bedroom. Of the remainder, only Gary hung back. He still seemed thoroughly spooked by his encounter earlier that day. Lissa watched as Z shuffled the cards thoroughly.

  “What do I do?” Ben’s voice was eager.

  “Once I’m sure they’re well shuffled, you cut them into three stacks, and put them back together however you like. Then, I’ll deal them out.”

  There was the zzzzzzt noise of shuffling, once, twice, three times. With a solemn expression, Z handed them to Ben. The room was completely silent except for the soft white noise of the wind blowing through the tree branches, and the calling of a single bird. Ben looked down at the cards, his blue eyes wide and solemn. He cut them as directed, and pushed them back across the table.

  “I’ll lay them out face up,” she said. “The face down part was to make it more suspenseful. You know, for clients. If this is about getting information, we should cut to the chase.”

  “Agreed,” Margo said. “Go for it, Z.”

  The first card showed a hunched figure of a woman in a cloak, sitting in a boat with her arm around a child who leaned in toward her. A standing ferryman, his muscled arms straining, guided the boat across turbulent waters. Arrayed around them were six swords.

  “The first card governs your near future,” Zolzaya said. “The Six of Swords means a dangerous journey.”

  “A journey where?”

  “It may not be a literal journey. It could be a figurative one.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Something that you’re struggling with internally. Something you have to figure out.”

  Ben nodded. “Like how we’re all going to survive.”

  “Yes. That’s it, Ben.”

  The next card was the Queen of Pentacles. A dark-haired crowned woman sat on a
n elaborately carved golden throne, holding a stone in her hand with the graven image of a star. The card was dealt out upside down.

  Zolzaya leaned back in her chair, and contemplated the card for a moment without speaking.

  “What does it mean, Z?” Ben said. “She looks nice.”

  “But the card is reversed.”

  “That’s bad?”

  She nodded. “Reversed, it means an evil woman, someone who wants to harm you. Someone you’re in danger from.” She pointed at it. “The second card represents your obstacles.”

  “Who’s the woman?” Ben looked from Zolzaya’s face to Margo’s to Lissa’s, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

  Lissa had the sudden realization that she should have put up more of a fight. This was not only pointless, it was going to scare the shit out of a boy for no good reason.

  But Gary chuckled softly. “It’s good advice, little bro. Women are trouble. You’ll find that out soon enough. Take my word for it.”

  Ben gave him an embarrassed smile, and the tension broke. He said to Zolzaya, “What’s the next card?”

  “The third card represents your past.”

  “But I know what my past was.”

  “I know. But sometimes the cards tell you things you didn’t know.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe any of this yourself, Z,” Lissa said, her voice still amused.

  She shrugged. “After what I’ve been through, let’s say I’m keeping my mind open.” She flipped over the Ace of Cups, a disembodied, shining hand holding aloft a jewel-encrusted chalice.

  Zolzaya smiled. “You told us that your family was wonderful. The cards agree.”

  Ben nodded.

  “The Ace of Cups is the card of plenty, fulfillment, love, and peace. It’s a lovely card.”

  “It’s the past,” Ben said.

  “I know.”

  “Better than having had a shitty family life, though.” Gary’s voice was uncharacteristically solemn. “My old man worked three jobs so he could put food on our table. He had a heart attack when I was eleven. After that, my mom had to do what she could to look after me and my brothers and sisters. You’re a lucky man to have had a family like what Z said.”

  Ben swallowed hard, and nodded again.

  “Then, there’s your immediate future.” Z picked up the next card from the stack.

  “How immediate?” Lissa asked.

  Zolzaya shrugged. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

  Lissa snorted laughter.

  “Just because you can’t measure it to within a hundredth of a gram, doesn’t mean it’s not real.” Margo sounded aggrieved.

  Lissa bit back a snarky answer, and simply smiled at the older woman, who responded with a scowl through her thick glasses.

  Zolzaya flipped the card over. It was the Falling Tower.

  “What’s that mean?” Ben pointed at the graphic image of the lightning-struck castle, people falling headlong from its windows into ruin.

  “The Falling Tower represents danger, and change. Big change. Loss, perhaps. Things standing on the edge, so that they can go either way.”

  Lissa snorted again, but didn’t say anything.

  “The fifth card represents the best possible outcome. What will happen to you if you are able to overcome the obstacles in front of you.” She turned over a brilliantly-colored card showing a man and a woman, arm-in-arm, each raising a hand in salutation to a rainbow made of ten golden cups. In the foreground two little children were dancing.

  “That looks happy.” Ben’s voice was tentative.

  “It is,” Zolzaya said, and Ben relaxed. “The Ten of Cups is one of the best cards in the deck. Happiness, fulfillment, joy, victory, love. Everything you could want.” She smiled at him. “So that’s pretty cool.”

  Ben nodded.

  “The sixth card has to do with your inner strengths. What you can count on, inside yourself, to help you reach your goal.” She flipped over a card that showed a man looking in wonder at seven golden chalices sitting on a cloud, each of which contained strange glowing objects.

  “That’s interesting,” Zolzaya said.

  “What is it?”

  “The Seven of Cups. It’s the card of someone who is intuitive, who understands what is happening on a deep level. It’s not a scientific kind of knowledge”—here she looked up at Lissa, who smiled and shook her head— “it’s knowledge of the spirit. Comprehending the heart of things.”

  Ben smiled. “I like that card.”

  “Me too. It’s always been one of my favorites. I can’t say I understand it completely, though. Do you know the word esoteric?”

  “I’ve heard it before. I don’t know what it means, not really.”

  “It means what’s behind things. It’s the kind of knowledge only a few are wise enough to understand.”

  “Like Gandalf in Lord of the Rings,” Ben said. “He knew secret things, and used them to help the members of the Fellowship.”

  “Exactly like that. The Seven of Cups is the card of esoteric knowledge.” She picked up the next card in the deck. “The seventh card represents the outside forces that will help you along the way.”

  Four tall staffs, linked by bright green garlands, surrounded two pairs of nude couples embracing. In the distance was a tall castle, pennants flying gaily in the breeze. Ben blushed at the image, and looked up from the card into Zolzaya’s face.

  “The Four of Wands is the card of friendship and love. Not romantic love, necessarily. But companionship, togetherness, steadfastness.”

  “We’re here for you.” Gary clapped Ben on the shoulder.

  Ben laughed.

  Zolzaya put her fingertips on the top of the deck, and hesitated for a moment. On to the hardest card to explain away if it was bad.

  “The next card is what it is you fear most. What you will have to face down if you will achieve your goals.”

  The card showed a dead man, prone on a bier, covered with a sheet from his waist down, with his hands crossed over his bare chest. Four swords hung in a line on the wall behind him, and to the side was a stained-glass window.

  “Solitude,” Zolzaya said.

  Ben nodded again. His face twisted, and as much as he was trying to fight it back, a tear trickled down his cheek.

  Of course. It was what they all were facing. There was a sudden pang in Lissa’s chest, and a thought, What if you’re wrong? What if it’s all true? But that would mean that Z was channeling some kind of real psychic force, one that was giving them information. That she was tapping into a reality that she hadn’t been able to access before, that perhaps was beyond the reach of scientific understanding. And that was unacceptable. She forced the idea away. But at least, let the last card be good. For Ben’s sake.

  Z said, in a light voice that sounded forced, “And the prediction for the future outcome.” But her hand stopped midway, and her brow furrowed. “I know what the card is going to be.”

  “How?” Lissa asked.

  “I don’t know.” Z swallowed. “The Fool. It’s the only card it can be.” She turned the card over.

  And there was The Fool, gaily dressed in a bright tunic, blithely chasing a butterfly, his dog gamboling at his heels, while he is about to step off a cliff.

  “How did you know that?” Margo said in an awed voice.

  “I… I have no idea.”

  Lissa gave Z a close look. Had she stacked the deck? But the knowledge rose in her, certain and solid, that Z wouldn’t do that. Z was as much a skeptic as she was. But the alternative explanation was repugnant, and once again she pushed it away.

  “Is that the death card?” Ben said in a thin, strained voice. “He’s running off the edge of a cliff.”

  “No,” Zolzaya said. “Not death at all. It’s chance, chaos, uncertainty, the unpredictability of the universe.”

  “The world’s a scary place, little bro,” Gary said. “Always has been, always will be.”

  “The Fool is about letti
ng go of your worries about tomorrow. He knows things, and is wise without knowing where the wisdom comes from. He’s stepping out into the midst of chaos with a smile on his face. Accept the fact that today is beautiful, and tomorrow you have no control over. Take what comes your way.”

  Ben looked up at her, and he gave her a smile. “I guess it could have been worse.”

  Much worse, in fact, especially since he’d be likely to believe all of this foolishness. But Lissa didn’t say anything.

  Margo’s face relaxed, and when she spoke, her voice was reverent. “That was amazing.”

  “Amazing. What have we learned? Ben may fail or he may succeed. The people around him will help him, except for some woman who intends to do him harm for some reason. He doesn’t want to be alone. And things will change for him at some time in the future.” Lissa gave a ringing laugh. “I hate to say it, Z my dear, but I could have told you all of that without the cards.”

  “Maybe you should do a spread for Lissa next,” Margo said. “See if that convinces her.”

  “No, I’ll pass, thank you. I’ll take what comes my way without any advice from the spirit world.”

  “Or maybe you don’t want to know what the spirit world has to say?”

  Lissa waved a hand in her direction. “Either way, I’m fine without it.”

  “How about you, Gary?” Margo persisted.

  Gary shrugged. “I dunno. I’m—” He stopped, and gave a nervous laugh. “Is there a card that has to do with getting killed by a tree thing? Because if that’s what’s gonna happen to me, I don’t wanna know.”

  “I can’t tell ahead of time what cards will come up.”

  “But you did,” Margo said. “You knew the last card of Ben’s cast before you turned it.”

  Z gave her a frightened glance.

  And that confirmed Lissa’s earlier knowledge. Z hadn’t stacked the deck.