Tarot

The locals called it ‘voodoo lane’ because of all its hocus-pocus-type shops.

The young man who works behind the counter of the ‘Oracle’s Chamber’, hadn’t been there long. It wasn’t much of a job, but jobs were scarce. He had recently come close to losing it when the strange old biddy that owned the shop had berated him for his lack of knowledge.

“It’s all very well telling customers that this pack is the Chinese Zodiac version or that this one is based on Greek Mythology, when you don’t know what they are,” she had said, “You need to learn the cards, boy. They are one of our most popular lines.”

It was at this point he had agreed to buy a pack and take it home. He would study the cards. It couldn’t be that hard. He had learned about the four suits and was working on the rest.

On the following day he was cycling to the shop, when the broken pack jammed into his trouser pocket lets loose three of the Tarot cards. They fluttered to the ground, unseen. Inside, stowing his helmet and jacket in his locker, he pokes the now incomplete card pack on the top shelf for safekeeping. It is not until he gets home that evening that he discovers that cards are missing.

In the meantime, the owner of the ‘Mystic Goddess’ next door, finds the Tarot card near his shop’s entrance. When he turns it over, he is amazed to find that he is holding the ‘Wheel of Fortune’. This could not have come at a better time. He knew that of late his gambling habit was getting worse, and he was fast running out of any available money to win back his losses. This was a sign.

In a similar fashion, the woman who worked at the ‘Sacred Cauldron’ was arranging things in the window when she noticed the card out on the path. When she brought it in and saw what it was, a great feeling of joy came over her. She knew instantly what this omen meant. The man she had met while taking a short break had promised to email her as soon as he got back to his flat in another town. That had been more than a week ago. She had been checking her account before and after work each day. This was about to change, she was holding ‘The Lovers’ card.

Later that day, the third card was found. The manager of the ‘Cosmic Palace’ was sweeping his front step when he saw it. He picked it up, and seeing what it was, felt a cold shudder go through his whole body. This was the Death card. He had been expecting something like this. In fact, he had been waiting for some portent to guide him, to show him the way, to protect him. It had happened the night before, on his way home. There had been a close call when the bus had swerved violently, narrowly missing a boy stepping off the footpath peering at his mobile phone. Everybody on the bus had been badly shaken. He tucked the card in his pocket. Tonight, the walk, albeit a long one, would do him good.

It will never be known what mystic hand sent these cards sailing to the front of these three shops.

That evening, when he got home, the young man saw the broken pack, and spreading them out found that three cards were missing.

He wasn’t exactly a believer, but he couldn’t help thinking about the cards that were missing; The Wheel of Fortune, The Lovers and the card of Death. He wondered briefly whether it was in some mystic way significant… significant that these three particular cards had so mysteriously disappeared.

Furthermore, it’s difficult to say how he’d feel if he knew that the casino in town now had a greater proportion of the gambler’s savings, that no email was waiting for her at home, and that the number 48 bus had run its regular route to the man’s house, entirely without incident.