Major Detours

by Zachary Sergi

  “Do you really believe all that?” It’s the only question I can think to ask.

  “I used to think my mom and the others were just eccentric,” Lily answers, looking me right in the eyes. “But then getting to know Uncle Carson before he died, despite being so young—I could tell he was just so genuine and earnest in his passion for the tarot. If nothing else, I believe in him.”

  “But if Perilli was so earnest and genuine, why did he operate with such secrecy?” I try. “Could it also be that he was intentionally trying to draw people in?”

  “I don’t know,” Lily sighs again. “But I do know he always said the tarot that channeled through him scared him a little. He was never so sure it was really all his to share. I can understand that much, at least.

  “But really, it doesn’t matter if you believe any of this. My mom and I have been waiting years to see if this final deck ever returned home, as Uncle Carson promised. Amelia, as the deck’s owner, it must be you who opens the chest. To do so, you must make your intentions known. So I ask you now: Inside this chest, what is it you really hope to find?”

  Finally, a question I have a very clear answer to.

  “I seek the missing tarot to honor my grandma’s legacy.”

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  “I seek the missing tarot to understand my own personal power.”

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  As I say these words out loud, I do my best to conjure a clear memory of Grandma. I close my eyes and see her in my mind, her tidy gray hair and bright eyes. When I picture her, she’s always greeting me as I come home from school, most days with Chase at my side. That was our time, the first hour after school, when Grandma would sit smiling with some prepared snack, asking how we were doing. She always smelled of flowers and would have some insightful words to offer.

  This image brings tears to my closed eyes. Really, Grandma always reminded me of the person I want to be: warm and supportive, but firm and honest. If any part of this tarot trip can strengthen those parts, then it’ll all be worth it. But I can’t resist the idea that this trip might also bring me closer to Grandma in other ways, that it might teach me something about this woman I thought I already knew inside out.

  “Keep walking through, little Dalet.”

  Lily says these words and my stomach flips over. Suddenly there’s a buzzing in my ears, a rushing sound that grows louder with each second.

  “Does that mean anything to you?” Lily asks. “It’s the only voice I can hear coming through. It keeps repeating that same phrase.”

  Opening my eyes, I find it impossible to summon words. Instead, I reach into my pocket and pull out the Dalet locket, the one Grandma gave me.

  “Oh,” Lily replies, looking awestruck herself.

  “Amelia’s grandmother gave that to her, which you must have known somehow,” Cleo says, taking her turn to rush to my defense. “Amelia, didn’t you always say Dalet was traditionally associated with The Empress?”

  I nod, still unable to muster words. I can see where Cleo is headed, suggesting Lily made this clever connection knowing my Major Arcana expression. It’s a leap, but it’s possible. A greater leap still—is Lily really communicating with Grandma?

  “Is there… anything else?” I manage.

  “I’m sorry, that’s all I hear,” Lily answers, frowning. “But I’ve stared at this chest there long enough to know Dalet is on it. It’s one of the lock button options.”

  My insides freeze again. I know what I believed about mediums before, but hearing Lily’s latest words, I don’t know if it muddies the waters or clears them.

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  As I say the words out loud, another gust of wind batters the cottage’s walls, causing the lights to flicker violently. They come on and off in bright bursts, so I close my eyes to press out the flashing. When I do, I see a vision so vivid, I gasp.

  In the blackness I see a globe with four half-hemispheres: flaming, flowing, growing, and sweeping. I open my eyes to make it stop, but the globe imprints on the workshop wall, like a projector blinking. The colors bleed as the lights flash again, then I see figures on the globe. Cleo appears in a color-blocked tunic holding a flowing cup. Chase appears wielding an ice-white sword, then Logan waving a fiery wand. Finally, Anwar swings upside down from a tree. The lights flicker one last time and I see myself under this tree, holding a green coin that bears one symbol:

  Dalet, the Hebrew letter on the locket Grandma gave me.

  I see all of this, but do I really see none of it? As the wind stops and the lights stop flickering, this vision on the wall disappears—if that’s what it was.

  “Amelia, are you okay?” Cleo asks, suddenly at my side.

  I don’t know how to explain what I just saw. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. Is my imagination playing tricks? Is exhaustion setting in from not sleeping last night? Or did I just have some kind of haunted tarot vision?

  “You saw something, didn’t you?” Lily asks, pressing forward.

  “Were you expecting her to?” Cleo says, taking her turn to rush to my defense. “Helped along by the lights routine and Lady Azure’s dockside tea?”

  Wait, is Cleo… Does she think maybe there was something slipped in my tea? Is that why she never drank any? But everyone else was drinking the tea, Lady Azure included. I turn to Anwar and he shakes his head as if to say he feels fine.

  “I won’t even dignify that with a response,” Lily says, anger flashing through her for the first time. “Amelia, that chest has three Hebrew letters on its lock. Is there any chance you saw one of those?”

  Looking down, I am once again stunned to see Dalet as one of the lock options. My heart races so fast, all I can hear is it pounding in my ears. I know what I believed about all this psychic stuff before, but could Perilli’s tarot, his house, his cards—could they really be affecting me somehow?

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  “Uncle Carson claimed only one button will open the chest,” Lily offers. “He also said pressing the wrong button will lock it forever.”

  “Well, that explains why you haven’t tried opening it,” Anwar replies. “Though I guess you all never heard of hammers or crowbars?”

  Anwar releases a nervous burst of laughter, but the rest of us are too—whatever we are—to join in. Still, I offer him a small smile.

  “Uncle Carson said the person who came with the deck would know which button to press,” Lily continues. “And it sounds like you do, Amelia?”

  Standing in front of the chest, I see it has three buttons, each one bearing a different Hebrew letter: Gimmel, Tau, and Dalet. Suddenly, I don’t care what’s real or fake, what’s prophetic or set up. All I care about is finding what we came here for.

  So I step up to the chest. Without hesitation, I then press the Dalet button on the lock. I move so quickly, Lily tries to warn me against being too impulsive. But it turns out she doesn’t need to.

  The moment I release my finger from the button, the chest swings open.

  In the next second, the lights sputter out, leaving us in complete darkness.

  Minutes later, after Lily tries and fails to reset the circuit breaker, we follow her up a narrow flight of stairs using the flashlights from our phones. My heart skips another beat as something loud bangs in the walls of this darkened staircase. I can already feel the panic stirring in my chest. I’m tempted to tug at my hair to calm the nervous energy, but instead my hands clutch what we found inside the chest: a scroll, which Lily said we needed to read upstairs, in the “Hall of Cups.”

  “Does the heat always make this much noise trying to come back on?” Anwar asks, sounding genuinely spooked. I don’t blame him.

  “No,” Lily says, perhaps predictably.

  At the top of the stairs I expect to enter another grand floor of Coupled Cottage. Instead, we are met with a solid blue wall set with two wooden doors, each boasting an intricate carving.

  “Mom had the upper floors modified for Uncle Carson to protect the Princess of
Cups,” Lily explains. “None of us have ever seen the design, but Uncle Carson said it’s a maze inspired by The Sephirot, the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. Ten circles joined by twenty-two crossing pathways, which line up neatly not only with the ten numbers of the Minor Arcana and the twenty-two Major Arcana, but also the twenty-two letters in the Hebrew Alphabet.”

  “Wait—the Princess of Cups is hidden in a mystic Jewish labyrinth?”

  The words fly out of my mouth. I instantly think of Chase. I still can’t believe he’s not here for this, because he’d definitely be nerding out over these historical puzzles.

  “Beyond this wall, the layout is a simplified version of The Sephirot,” Lily explains. “And before Cleo can ask, no, we’ve never gone inside. Uncle Carson made it very clear that only the person possessing the deck may enter. If they succeed, they will find the card. But if they fail, the Princess of Cups will be destroyed.”

  I know the impact Lily’s latest news is meant to deliver, but I find my reserves of shock and awe have been depleted.

  “I’m ready,” I say, stepping up to the first door. “How does this work?”

  “Unroll the scroll,” Lily instructs.

  Doing as she says, I find the scroll has two parts. The first is a list of symbols. Next to it is an empty column titled “Major Arcana Codex.” Instantly, I realize we need to use the symbols on the deck to match the Major Arcana.

  “Cleo, can I have a pen and the deck?” I ask.

  Cleo opens her backpack to give me both. Then, by the phone flashlight and with everyone gazing over my shoulder, I fill in the codex:

  Once I finish, I stuff the pen and deck back in Cleo’s backpack, then turn to the second part of the scroll. It’s a list of questions, the first reading: Door One: Where do you find life’s most important wisdom?

  “The symbols that answer the questions are on each door,” Lily says. “You’ll need to use the scroll codex to translate the symbols into the Major Arcana card, then decide which one best answers each question. You’ll follow that process until you reach the end of the maze.”

  As Lily finishes, I turn my flashlight to the two symbols mounted in bronze metal. One door has a lighthouse, while the other has an ornate key. Looking to the scroll codex, I see the first symbol corresponds to The Tower, the tarot card that represents a crisis of faith. The Tower’s lightning and fire can destroy the existing, but they can also illuminate an escape. Meanwhile, the second symbol corresponds to The Hermit, which represents a call for solitary contemplation. The Hermit signals a more demanding phase of a journey, implying we only have ourselves to rely on.

  “Once you enter the maze, Amelia, you’ll be on your own,” Lily says. “But since we’re here with you for this first step—”

  Just then, a loud noise groans from the floor beneath us, and the lights flicker back on. In the same moment, I swear I see the writing on the scroll float off of the page and onto the wall, melting and swirling into its deep blueness. In the next second, the lights flicker back out and the writing all disappears. Blinking, I convince myself this was just my eyes playing tricks on me…

  “As I was saying,” Lily continues, “I’m told the answer lies in The Tower.”

  I turn to Lily, our flashlights casting sharp shadows across her face. I didn’t expect such direct guidance from her, given the whole “you must enter alone” routine. Nor does she offer the source of her “advice.”

  “I still don’t know much about the tarot,” Anwar jumps in. “And I’m not sure my opinion should matter here, but I think we can trust Lily after all she has done to help, right?”

  “And I think you should go with your gut, Amelia,” Cleo immediately adds. Her eyes pour into mine in the semidarkness, communicating the subtext behind her words: she still does not trust Lily.

  Great. As if there wasn’t already enough riding on this decision, now it will also be about choosing between Lily-Anwar and Cleo. Looking at them all, I curl a thick strand of hair between my thumb and forefinger, nerves jangling all the way through me. But then, suddenly, I force my hand away and make a decision. If I can’t fight the adrenaline, then I might as well use it.

  Because if anyone is equipped to interpret or channel Perilli’s deck, it’s me.

  Where do you find life’s most important wisdom?

  Strapping Cleo’s backpack on and clutching both the scroll and my phone’s flashlight, I make my first choice.

  I open the door.

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  I open the door.

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  I walk through this first door and it closes behind me with a heavy thud. I don’t check the knob to see if it has locked, because if I am trapped in here, I don’t particularly want to know. Instead, I raise my phone’s flashlight and find myself facing a narrow hallway. My breath catches in my throat—small spaces aren’t my favorite. The darkness doesn’t help, pressing in thickly all around me. Still, I step forward, because I already decided my anxiety has to charge me forward, not hold me back.

  The hallway soon opens into a new room, which has another set of doors on its far wall. I move to examine these doors, but as I walk farther inside, I suddenly notice this room’s ceiling is covered with glow-in-the-dark stickers. Pinkish fiery suns and yellowish lightning bolts create a shining sky of faded stars. I pause to take them in and quickly realize they’re shaped like…

  A tower.

  The floorboards creak loudly as I rock back and forth on my feet, absorbing the blurred image above me. I wonder when was the last time anyone looked at these shapes—and who were they really intended for?

  Letting these questions roll away, I illuminate the symbols on Door Two, then I find the corresponding prompt on the scroll: In what force should you trust? Finally, I look up their Major Arcana meanings on the scroll’s codex.

  I open the door.

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  I open the door.

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  I walk through this first door and it closes behind me with a startling quickness, like it’s spring loaded—which it very well might be. After all, once you enter a maze, you shouldn’t be able to go backward.

  Holding up my phone’s flashlight, I quickly find this room is filled with a large tent—one I’m going to have to move through. Taking a deep breath and bracing myself, I really wish I didn’t have to do this in the semidarkness. Still, I reach for the zipper to open the tent’s entrance. I already decided my anxiety has to charge me forward, not hold me back.

  Stepping inside, the flashlight illuminates thick strokes of paint covering nearly every inch of the tent walls. Tallies and symbols are written everywhere, looking like the scrawlings of a prisoner. The tent walls also billow back and forth, either from my movement or some unseen draft, making the writing look like it comes alive. Immediately I feel overwhelmed, like I might get trapped in here. All I want to do is find my way out.

  Trying not to grow too frantic, I paw for the zipper at the other end of the tent. Climbing out, I find it opens into a short hallway. The hallway soon opens into a new room, which has another set of doors on its far wall marked Door Three.

  I then look to the corresponding prompt on the scroll: What moves you forward fastest? Finally, I look up their Major Arcana meanings on the scroll’s codex.

  I open the door.

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  I open the door.

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  I walk through this door and find myself in another hallway, this one much longer and narrower than the last. And much… hotter? Suddenly it feels like I’ve entered an inferno. Could that be by design? Or is this hallway just conveniently set over some ancient boiler, which would also explain the loud banging coming through the floorboards?

  Either way, it feels fitting, given that this is The Devil’s room. Looking up, I also see this hallway is painted an ominous, warning-sign red. Most think of The Devil as being evil, but nothing is ever that one-sided in the tarot. The Devil reminds us that sometimes we need negativ
ity to inspire us, because we can’t ever really appreciate the light without the darkness. Clearly, I decided to trust in this force, especially given my current situation.

  But as I reach the next room, I think maybe I shouldn’t have. Something in here suddenly smells ungodly. As I enter this room at the end of The Devil’s corridor, I realize what: there’s a dead raccoon in here…

  One crawling with wriggling maggots.

  I fight the urge to vomit, instead turning to the next wall of doors. Is this rotting carcass here because no one has been through these rooms in years? Or was it somehow left here on purpose? Not really wanting to know the answer, I realize there’s actually only one door set into this next wall, painted purple.

  I walk through this singular purple door.

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  I walk through and find myself in another long room. I also notice there happens to be a second door beside the one I entered through, which means multiple symbols must lead in here.

  My eye is immediately drawn to a small sculpture in the center of this room. Looking over its smoothed curves more closely, I realize it’s a chariot carrying a globe—two of the most clearly defined tarot figures.

  The World completes the Major Arcana journey, signaling that every ending is a beginning. Meanwhile, The Chariot represents movement and reflecting on the distance traveled in a journey. Taken together, I realize these cards actually represent a reconciliation of opposites: the journey and the destination, descending and ascending, ending and beginning—which are all really the same thing in the universe of the tarot.

  Taking in this sculpture, a sense of serenity washes over me. It’s a very welcome sensation, given the couple of days we’ve had. If only I could dwell in here a little longer, to calm my racing nerves.