Page 47 of Roma King
I am losing my fucking mind.
At three P.M., after pacing up and down the living room in my apartment for the better part of the morning and most of the afternoon, I finally sit down in front of my laptop at the dining table and open up a web page. My fingers move quickly over the keys.
‘tarot card depictions and their meanings’
Numerous web pages spring up, a long list of sites all containing the information I’ve requested. The first link I click on is no help. The illustrations on the tarot cards are nothing like the one sitting beside my laptop. According to the website, they’re contemporary cards, and the images are all interpretations on a traditional deck. The bold splashes of color and strange icons are unusual and pretty, but they’re not going to assist me in discovering the meaning of the golden lady with her crown and scepter.
I have better luck on the second site I visit. The cards here aren’t exactly the same as Shelta’s deck, but they’re similar, and bear the traditional illustrations. It takes me all of three minutes, scrolling through each card individually, to locate the one I’m looking for.
Apparently, it’s The Empress III.
My eyes travel over the information below the card, reading quickly.
‘Third card, or Major Arcana card. The Empress sits on a throne wearing a starry crown, holding a scepter in one hand. The scepter is representative of her power over life, her crown has twelve stars representing her dominance over the year, and her throne is in the midst of a field of grain, representative of her dominion over growing things.
Meaning:The Empress is traditionally associated with maternal influence. It is the card if you are hoping to start a family. She can represent the creation of life, romance, art, or new business.
Upright card:Pregnancy, Nurturing, Abundance, Maternal care, A new opportunity, Stability
Reversed card:Financial issues, Stagnation, Domestic problems, Unwanted pregnancy.
Well, shit. The card was drawn upright, so that means it represented pregnancy, a new opportunity, and abundance, all of which are undeniably off the table for me right now. I’m single. I’m not even dating anyone, let alone having sex, and new opportunities? Abundance? That’s a joke. I’ve just possibly lost my job, not been offered a new one, and what little money I have squirreled away in the bank is hardly going to allow me to live an abundant life.
I turn the card over, wondering if there’s anything pertinent on the back, but there’s nothing. Just the pretty, lacy golden pattern that covers it from edge to edge.
So fucking weird.
The card is so out there and disconnected from my own life that I can’t help but frown at it. Shelta’s attitude definitely worsened once I drew the card. But I’m struggling to understand what about the card’s meaning worried her so much that she had to ask me to leave? It just doesn’t make any sense.
I know it’s impossible and there’s no real evidence to support the idea, but I just can’t shake the feeling that Shelta has something to do with my suspension from work. Could she have done something to orchestrate the accusation of harassment laid at my feet? What about this stupid card and it’s vague-ass meaning would have driven her to do something so drastic and uncalled for?
I make myself a cup of coffee, but it sits on the dining table, untouched. The storm that was threatening to break earlier finally arrives, and rain lashes at the windows, torrential, the sound of the downpour roaring out in the street. It’s so dark, the sky a thick blanket of iron-colored clouds, that I have to turn on the kitchen light in order to avoid walking into anything as I resume my pacing.
Where is Sarah?
Am I right about Shelta?
Has Yuri Petrov brought his son home yet?
Is my friend safe?
Who the fuck said I was causing trouble for them at work?
Is Corey getting the help and attention he needs so desperately, now that he’s safe?
My head willnotlet up. The gears of my mind turn and spin, metal grinding against metal, and all I can think is that everything, all of this, is connected somehow. The calls to the payphone. The Midnight Fair. Sarah. My job. Pasha. The dreams.
If I’m not careful, I’m going to chew every single nail I have down to the quick. Eventually, my racing thoughts become too much. I have to have answers. I need to know beyond a doubt what’s happening here. I take out my phone, fuming and annoyed with myself that I’m stooping to this level, but there’s no other way…
I scroll through my contacts list until I reach the letter P. Paula Harrison. Pet Care Centre. Peter Dalziel. PJ. Penny Lauder.
I go back to the beginning, double checking in case I missed the name I’m looking for.
Nope. There’s nothing there.
Uhhh…
Oh!
