Major Detours
Page 4
As I prepare myself to read, I try to clear my mind of everything else, ready to become reflective. Then, for good measure, I run my fingers over the engraved surface of the Dalet locket in my pocket.
“Okay, Logan, what intention do you want to set for this reading?”
“That’s easy, my dear Amelia. How do we follow the clues to find the closest missing card?”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” I answer, handing Logan the shuffled deck to cut. While waiting, I decide what reading configuration to use, since the placements can change the interpretations of each card dramatically. For this reading, I quickly realize I should use Grandma’s favorite: The Seeing Square.
Logan hands me back the deck and I lay out the top four cards face down on the cloth. We are faced with the same symbol on the card backs: a unique geometric shape that looks like a Hebrew letter Mem connected to an inverted number four. Seeing it now, the shape is unmistakably an altered letter P—which, I now realize, must stand for Perilli. My heart then skips another beat once the cards are dealt, because one of our homemade replacement cards has appeared in fourth position. A chill runs up my spine, seeing a representation of one of the four missing cards turning up in the final placement.
Shaking this off, I reach out to begin.
“The card in first position represents your current situation, the place you begin to achieve your goal,” I explain, flipping over the first card.
My eyes light up as they fall on the Ace of Cups.
“That’s an excellent sign,” I continue. “The Ace stands for one, the number of new beginnings, but also indivisibility. And Cups are the suit of emotions and flow. Definitely an auspicious place to begin, perhaps a sign this goal is worth obtaining.”
I glance over at Chase, but he is still absorbed by the booklet and his journal scribbles. That’s fine, since this next phase of my reading is the part he never likes. He thinks any personal touch dilutes the tarot’s meaning, but I believe it only enhances it.
“Now, Logan, can you tell me what you’re drawn to most in the Ace of Cups?”
Logan considers my question a moment. “Visually speaking? I guess my eye is pulled to the central cup in the card.”
That tracks. Others might be drawn to the heart symbols or the flowing ocean background, but Logan has always been one to cut to the heart of the matter. Knowing I now need to read this Cup symbolism to Logan, I stare down at the card and try to tap into my inner Empress.
“The Cup in this card traditionally stands for a central source of life,” I begin.
“In this case, I’d say it represents the fountain of life. A source of abundance, but something equally elusive and difficult to grasp.”
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“In this case, I’d say it represents the holy grail. A source of strength, but also of mystery and great danger.”
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“If the fountain of life represents the goal we seek, then achieving it will require intuition and courage,” I conclude.
“Says the nurturing Empress mother,” Logan replies, smiling.
“That brings us to second position,” I carry on. “This card represents potential obstacles that could stand in your way.”
I reach forward and flip the second card to reveal the Queen of Pentacles.
“Oh, wow. In the material Pentacles suit, the Queen represents the duality of a mentor. She can spin her wheel of creativity just as easily as she can spin a web of entrapment. She has great gifts of protection and bounty, but she is also prone to corruptible wealth and luxury.
“So, Logan,” I finish, “which part of the card speaks to you most?”
“If we’re looking for obstacles, I think the message is clear,” he begins. “We shouldn’t be seduced by material wealth. We’d also better be wary of the answers to our questions, because they might trap us just as easily as they might inspire us.”
“Yes,” I respond, even though I hope that idea isn’t remotely true. I want to say our obstacle will be someone who will take advantage of us to obscure the truth, someone who will do us harm in the name of helping. But this is the danger of reading a person whose intention you’re invested in: letting your own feelings inform the reading.
“Very good,” I say, keeping my thoughts to myself. “Let’s move on to third position, the card that represents qualities needed to overcome this obstacle.”
I then flip the third card to reveal the Four of Wands.
“Okay, fascinating,” I begin. “The number four calls for balance and the stability of a square. The way the wands are arranged, it shows that faith in one wand can be easily broken, but a bundle of four is unbreakable.”
“Then the message here is pretty straightforward again,” Logan says. “We’re going to need to use teamwork to overcome obstacles and achieve our goals. Four of Wands, four of us. Those signs couldn’t be clearer.”
Logan looks pleased with himself, but I have to bite my tongue once more. I know he thinks this pull is a fateful sign sent from on high, but I don’t think his interpretation is serendipity. Really, it’s nothing more than his human mind making connections. Of course, this is what the tarot is for—letting the subject realize things about themself and their situation—which is the only reason I let it be.
I’m so preoccupied with silencing myself as I reach for the final card, I forget it’s one of our homemade cards until my fingers actually touch its laminated edges. A spark of anticipation lights up my chest, feeling it there.
“In fourth position, this final card represents achieving your goal. It’s both a sign of what you stand to gain and a ‘be careful what you wish for’ message.”
My fingers twitch with excitement as I turn over the final card, finding our homemade representation of the Prince of Wands.
Silence falls over us. Obviously, this is one of the hidden cards we hope to find, showing up in the outcome position. On some level we all knew this was coming, but still, seeing it actually lying there feels charged. Like the card might burst into flames on the table, coursing with magic and meaning.
I’d say something, but my throat has suddenly gone dry.
“Okay, now that is downright freaky,” Cleo says, putting down her phone. “Anyone else just get the chills?”
“That’s wild,” Logan says, leaning in to examine our homemade card. “Hey, why did you and Chase draw the centaur Prince holding a flaming wand in your version?”
I take a sip of water and try to remember our childhood thought patterns, hoping this will also calm my hammering heart.
“The flaming wand represents the Prince of Wands’ need for protection on an adventure filled with danger, especially since his courage makes him impulsive.”
“Right. If we’re pulling a message from that, it might be that if we follow through, we will actually find the card,” Logan extrapolates. “But is the Prince of Wands warning us not to lose ourselves in pursuing this task? Or is he telling us to avoid danger and chaos, even if it’s tempting?”
“That’s all well and good,” Chase interrupts, his attention suddenly shifted. “But whatever direction we’re looking for probably really has something very specific to do with this.”
Earlier, Maggie’s guidance got us the compass, so Chase puts that toolset half on the table.
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Earlier, Maggie’s help got us the charms, so Chase puts that toolset half on the table.
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“If the holy grail represents the goal we seek, then achieving it will require bravery and sacrifice,” I conclude.
“Says the demanding Empress mother,” Logan replies, smiling.
“That brings us to second position,” I carry on. “This card represents potential obstacles that could stand in your way.”
I reach forward and flip the second card to reveal the Eight of Swords.
“That’s not great.” I pause. “Swords are the suit of rationality, and eight is the number of infinity. However,
when representing obstacles, this card can be super ominous. To reach a point of realization, you must endure a terrible ordeal, one riddled with self-doubt and rife with misinformation. The temptation will be to turn back, but the only way out will be through.”
“Well, I think that message is pretty clear,” Logan sighs, evidently feeling the weight of this card.
“Yeah, let’s move on to third position,” I say, also feeling it. “This card represents the qualities you’ll need to overcome the obstacle.”
I then flip the third card to reveal the Four of Wands.
“Okay, much better,” I begin. “The number four calls for balance and the stability of a square. The Four of Wands represents versatility, how faith in a single wand alone can alter reality, but combining the possibilities of four diverse wands is limitless.”
“Definitely better,” Logan says. “It probably means we’re going to need to use teamwork to overcome obstacles of doubt and deception. Four of Wands, four of us. Those signs couldn’t be clearer.”
“Well, the connections you just made yourself couldn’t be clearer, at least,” I reply as gently as I can manage. Part of me knows I shouldn’t say anything to interfere with Logan’s conclusions—letting the subject realize things about their situation is the whole point of my tarot readings. Then again, not speaking my mind isn’t exactly what I’m most known for.
I return Logan’s weak smile with one of my own, reaching forward to flip over the final card. I’m so distracted, I actually forget it’s one of our homemade cards until my fingers touch its laminated edges.
“In fourth position, this final card represents achieving your goal. It’s both a sign of what you stand to gain and a ‘be careful what you wish for’ message.”
My fingers twitch with excitement as I turn over the final card, finding our homemade representation of the Prince of Wands.
Silence falls over us. Obviously, this is one of the hidden cards we hope to find, showing up in the outcome position. On some level we all knew a missing card was coming, but still, seeing the Prince of Wands specifically lying there feels charged. Like the card might burst into flames on the table, coursing with magic and meaning.
“Okay, now that is downright freaky,” Cleo says, putting down her phone. “Anyone else just get the chills?”
“That’s wild,” Logan says, leaning in to examine our card. “Wait, why did you and Chase draw the Prince as a centaur wandering the desert with a flaming wand?”
“Most cards we researched showed the Prince of Wands being pulled in a chariot by horses or lions, so we made him pulling his own chariot as a centaur.”
Logan gives me a look, but I just shrug.
“What? We were kids.”
“Hey, centaurs are still completely awesome,” Cleo adds.
“Agreed,” I continue. “As for wandering the desert, the Prince of Wands is a courageous and gifted hero, but he risks losing his way if he becomes too headstrong.”
“Right. Well, if we’re pulling a message, it might be that we will actually find the card,” Logan extrapolates. “But is the Prince warning us to beware of someone betraying us? Or is he telling us to be wary of focusing only on our own needs in our search?”
“That’s all well and good,” Chase interrupts, his attention suddenly shifted. “But whatever direction we’re looking for probably really has something very specific to do with this.”
Earlier, Maggie’s guidance got us the compass, so Chase puts that toolset on the table.
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Earlier, Maggie’s help got us the charms, so Chase puts that toolset on the table.
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“Here’s the Perillian booklet quote on the Prince of Wands,” Chase continues. “Can looking behind bring you forward, can looking within broaden your horizons without? I figure that has to have something to do with the compass, but—”
“Oh my goddess.”
The words tumble out of my mouth. Logan and Chase’s questions spark an idea in my brain so brightly, I reach across the table and snatch up the compass.
“Hey, what are you…?”
Ignoring Chase, I examine the compass. It’s a little bigger than my hand and made of intricately carved bronze pieces. Its face appears simple enough, but the front isn’t what I’m interested in. Right now, I only care about looking behind.
On the back of the compass, I see a little barcode sticker in the lower left corner. I use the tip of my nail to scrape it off, and once I do, I gasp at what I see underneath: a small button set into the back of the compass, too small to press with my finger. Looking around the table, I grab Chase’s pen.
I then insert the pen’s tip into the button slot. First, a small compartment opens in its back, revealing a miniature flashlight, the tiny kind you’d keep on a keychain. Then something clicks into place on the surface of the compass. Flipping it over, I gasp again at what I see.
Something on the face has shifted, revealing new letters in previously covered grooves. Where the letters N E S W once stood for compass directions, new letters now replace them: P W S C. It takes me a few seconds, but I then realize these letters must stand for the Minor Arcana suits: Pentacles, Wands, Swords, and Cups. Then, even more astonishingly, I see that beside each letter, there are corresponding symbols. I instantly recognize these symbols, because each Major Arcana card in our deck is painted with a unique one. Looking first at Wands, I recognize the symbol for The Magician: a tree branch wand.
While the others take turns looking at the compass, I rifle through the tarot deck until I find The Magician. Looking over the card, I spot the familiar symbol.
“Amelia, the flashlight?” Cleo suggests.
Nodding at her, I grab the mini-flashlight that was hidden inside the compass. Squeezing it to shine on The Magician symbol, I gasp all over again.
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“Here’s the Perillian booklet quote on the Prince of Wands,” Chase continues. “Can looking behind bring you forward, can looking within broaden your horizons without? I figure that has to have something to do with the charms, but—”
“Oh my goddess.”
The words tumble out of my mouth. Logan and Chase’s questions spark an idea in my brain so brightly, I reach across the table and snatch up the keychain to examine it. Each charm is a large three-dimensional shape, and the wand stretches across the palm of my hand. It appears simple enough, a wand made of red metal, but its surface isn’t actually what I’m interested in. Right now, all I care about is looking within.
Turning the wand over, I notice a seam splitting it up the middle. I use my fingernail to pry between the seams and, sure enough, the wand pops open easily. Looking inside, I gasp at what I see: a long, thin key hidden within.
“Oh wow, what do you think that’s for?” Cleo asks, leaning forward.
Looking next at the Sword charm, I see it has the same splitting seam. One quick pry later, I unearth a second key.
“Amelia, the other charms,” Chase begins, but I already hold the Cups charm in my hand. Looking it over, I am somewhat stunned to find a little keyhole. Within seconds, the Wand key opens the Cups charm, splitting it in half. Next, the Sword key opens the Pentacle charm in the same way.
Inside the Cups charm we find a miniature flashlight, the tiny kind you’d keep on a keychain. Then, inside the Pentacle charm, we find a folded piece of paper listing the four Minor Arcana suits, with corresponding symbols. I instantly recognize these symbols, because each Major Arcana card in our deck is painted with a unique one. Looking first at Wands, I recognize the symbol for The Magician: a tree branch wand.
Feeling set on fire, I rifle through the tarot deck as quickly as I can until I find The Magician. Looking over the card, I spot the familiar symbol.
“Amelia, the flashlight?” Cleo suggests.
Nodding at her, I grab the mini-flashlight that was hidden inside the Cups charm. Squeezing it to shine on The Magician symbol, I gasp all over again.
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I quickly learn this is no ordinary flashlight—it’s a black light. Shining it on The Magician symbol on the card, it suddenly reveals writing that must have been printed in invisible UV ink. Then, looking closer, I see this writing is actually two sets of numbers. No, not numbers…
GPS coordinates.
Once I fill the others in on this finding, it only takes Cleo a few seconds to search the coordinates on her phone. Sure enough, she pulls up a general location: the Joshua Tree Inn, which happens to be only a few miles from this diner.
I could scream, I’m so excited. I wonder if Maggie knew about this hidden function when he gave us this toolset, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter—the clues hidden inside would be useless without our Magician card. I then realize we can repeat this process to find the locations of the other three missing cards, using the toolset and the card symbols that they designate in our deck.
I raise my eyes to look at Chase grinning. I might have been the one to make this discovery, but his research led us down this path. Complementary halves.
“Okay, now I am legitimately freaked out,” Cleo says.
“There’s no reason to be freaked,” Logan responds. “We’re obviously meant to find this card. The universe’s signs are just particularly clear in this case.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re meant to do anything,” I finally say. I’m no longer reading Logan’s cards, so enough is enough. “I think us seeing signs everywhere really just shows how much we all want to search for the cards.”
“Amelia, come on,” Logan deadpans, as if already expecting this reaction. “The Empress pull leading us to Maggie’s shop. The Four of Wands in the qualities required position. The Prince of Wands, the closest missing card, in the achievement position. Us already heading east to Joshua Tree. How can that not all be somehow connected, somehow meant to be?”