I was passing the time watching folks stroll by the window of my favorite coffee shop. I had a deck with me, something I’m supposed to review but I’m having difficulties finding the right words, other than “Horrid piece of shyte”. I mean I do eventually have to sell these things right?
Anyway, you know how it goes. One minute you’re minding your own business and the next life decides to insert itself into your existence.
“I see you have Tarot cards! I’m a reader! Mind if I join you?”
My Spirit Guide, Two-Raw Sugars floated off the stool, “Bloody hell, just cuz I’m a non-corporeal being, floating in some weird dimension, doesn’t mean you can plunk yourself on my lap without asking! Jaysus”, as the lady sat on the stool next to me.
“What an interesting deck? Who gave it to you? Or are you going to gift it?”
I picked it up and gave it a shuffle. Then I noticed the horror on her face.
She stayed my hand with hers, “Oh you must be a newbie. You don’t ever shuffle a tarot card deck. It flaps the magic out. It won’t work if you shuffle. My spirit guide told me so.”
Two-Raw Sugars floated between her and the window. Their faces inches apart, hers oblivious. “She’s a looney, that’s what she is, she’s a looney!”
“So you never shuffle?”
“Well, when you first get them, you have to shuffle them three time under the light of the full moon. Then deal them into 13 piles, touching each card with reverence. Then shuffle three more times. On the next new moon you have to gift them to somebody. And that person can never shuffle them. You draw the cards off the top, do the reading, and then the cards go to the bottom.”
“So what happens when you go through the whole deck?”
“Oh you are a novice!” She was becoming even more animated. “Once you go through a whole deck, each card must be torn into seven pieces, and burned at noon on a cloudy day.”
“And then what? You’re out of a deck?”
“Oh you are a silly one. You have to be gifted a new deck!”
“Looney I tell you!” Two-Raw floated over to my free side and kind of sat down on the stool. “Do we have to listen to this?”
“That’s what witches covens are for! We all buy each other decks and gift them to each other!”
“But you never shuffle…”
“I don’t know who taught you, but every deck has an order to it. And it must remain in that order. I won’t read until the correct person sits down. Then, like I said before, those cards go to the bottom of the deck, and then I wait for the next person, who requires the decks correct order.”
“What if someone needs a reading?”
“Well they have to go away until the deck’s order is correct for them.”
“How do you know the deck’s in its correct order?”
“My spirit guide tells me.”
“And your spirit guide, is he a Native American or a Gypsy Prince, foully murdered at the age of 20…”
“Now could you know that? How could you possibly know that he was murdered?”
Two-Raw piped up, “Because amateurs never write new material”
I looked at her over my steaming quad-espresso, “I have the gift…”
“Oh! You’re one of those! And a man! You don’t look gay.”
“Goodness. I’ve never heard of a straight man having the gift, or even reading Tarot. Very rare.” She looked down at the deck I was having difficulty finding good words to describe. “Well, that is a most lovely deck! What’s it called?”
I told her the name, and made a mental note to not ever restock. “I call it…yours.”
I drank the rest of my coffee, and slid the box and LWB toward her.
“What?” A look of total surprise on her face.
“I’m gifting you the deck.”
“But there’s something you need to know about his particular deck. If you don’t shuffle it, it won’t work. Ever. It loves to be shuffled. But here’s the caveat. It contains only seven hundred and forty two readings. That’s it. So keep track of them.”
I grabbed my messenger bag and headed towards the door, dropping my cup in the recycle bin on my way out. Two-Raw Sugars floated behind me, trying to keep up. “What was that about?”
“Well you could tell she wasn’t going to listen to another viewpoint. And you’ve seen the deck at shows, folks pick it up, look at it, put it down and move on. I can’t sell them, so…I gave it away.”
“But what if she…”
“My bag is one deck lighter, I don’t care what she does.”
“You mortals are very quixotic…”