Back in NY. Friend meeting her.
Reply from VS—
Does she have them?
Message to VS—
I’ll know soon.
The Star
Semele made her way to Cabe’s apartment, where she planned to camp out for the rest of the day. Her thoughts felt more weighted with every step. In her purse she had Macy’s dream stone, a picture of Nettie and her birth mother, and her father’s translation. That’s all she had.
She walked past The Third Eye, a bookstore in Brooklyn that also offered psychic readings. She had passed by it countless times but had never been inside. Without giving herself time to change her mind she went in.
Near the door, there was a bulletin board with the name and a short bio of each psychic that was available to give readings that day. Below their bios, the psychics had listed their expertise—if they specialized in palmistry, tarot, astrology charts, channeling, or past-life regression, or if they were clairaudient or clairvoyant.
Semele read the roster with raised eyebrows, about to lose her nerve. She chose a psychic named Doreen, who specialized primarily in tarot readings, and paid thirty dollars at the register for a thirty-minute consultation.
In the glass case by the register were over fifty different kinds of tarot decks with varying artwork. Semele leaned down to read some of the titles: the Crystal Tarot, the Mythic Tarot, the Fairytale Deck. There was also a Renaissance deck depicting Greek and Roman deities, and one designed to look like stained-glass windows. There were even steampunk andThe Lord of the Ringsdecks—too many to choose from. She saw that they had a replica of the Visconti Deck, right next to the Tarot de Marseilles.
The shop clerk noticed her interest. “Rider-Waite is the perfect deck to start with. It’s the ABCs of tarot. A classic.”
Semele gave her a faint smile.
***
A plump woman in her sixties sat at a table for two in a room smaller than a walk-in closet. Doreen had on a bright floral blouse and was sipping a tumbler of iced tea with a big straw. All she was missing was a sun visor and the cruise ship to go with it. She stood up with a warm smile when Semele entered and motioned to the other chair in the tiny space. “Welcome. Please have a seat.”
Semele sat down and watched Doreen dim the lights and light a candle. Soft celestial-sounding music played in the background. She looked at Doreen’s tarot cards with open curiosity and saw they were the same cards the shop clerk had recommended. “What kind of deck is that?”
Doreen seemed surprised by the question. “I use the Rider-Waite Deck.”
“What century is it from?”
Doreen’s eyebrows shot up. “These originated in the early 1900s.”
“In Italy?”
“In England.” Doreen smiled, thinking Semele must be nervous. “May we hold hands?”
The question surprised her, but Semele nodded and Doreen folded her hands into her soft palms. The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she exhaled and took another.
Semele watched her, not sure what was happening. This was not how she thought the reading would go. Wasn’t Doreen supposed to deal out the tarot cards? Semele tried hard to sit still, not wanting to distract her.
The celestial music created a hypnotic calm, and Semele’s eyes settled on the burning candle. The room began to take on a dreamlike quality as she watched the wax melt.
“You’ve lost someone close to you,” Doreen said, her voice sad and distant.
Semele’s chest seized with emotion.
“He died too soon. He’s worried for you. His presence is strong. He wants to tell you he’s sorry.… So sorry.”
Semele’s grief returned with a power that was physically painful. She could feel her father. She could feel him behind the words. She waited breathlessly to hear more.
Instead Doreen opened her eyes and said gently, “I’m sorry, that’s all I see.” She let go of Semele’s hands, then picked up the tarot cards and began to shuffle. “Why don’t we begin?”
Semele wasn’t ready to move on to the cards. In a sharp instant she had felt her father. She wanted to call the moment back, to live there and speak with him.
