The Curse of the Mystic Cats

by R. E. Rose

  She nodded an affirmative.

  “They need to help with the raising of the carnival, and they also work it.”

  “They work the carnival?”

  “It’s all a part of the things they do for me so they can earn back the cash they owe me and –”

  “What? And what?”

  “They get a little exercise,” she said.

  Before I could respond Emi decided to talk. “Start a fire if you like,” she yelled out to me from her Death card. Maisie put Emi’s card in the box and put the lid on it.

  Starting a fire was exactly what I was going to do. I grabbed my things. When I got to the door, Maisie stopped me.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Don’t think so,” I said. She nodded back in the direction of the card table. There sat the gift she gave me.

  The empty box.

  I didn’t really want it, but out of politeness, I went back to get it. I intended to dump it in the trash when I got home.

  “Dump that box in the trash, and you’ll probably die,” she said.

  “Did you give me anthrax or what? I don’t see anything in here!”

  “Look again.”

  I opened the lid then screamed and dropped the box! “What is that?” I took a step back.

  “Pick it up—quickly!” she said with real alarm in her voice.

  “Touch it?”

  “Yes, quick! And put the lid on and take it.”

  I really wished I had a tissue to use to pick it up. It looked like a black banana, hard, dried and shriveled, but on closer inspection, I saw that it was the severed dead paw of a large cat, like a big cat, like a panther or jaguar. I picked it up touching it lightly and gently put it in the box. Then placed the lid on it, yet, I felt strongly compelled to look at it one more time. I removed the lid and looked in

  It was no longer there.

  “Don’t let it out of your possession, don’t shake the box, don’t do anything with it, but put it away somewhere safe.”

  “I don’t want it,” I said, passing it over to her, but she wouldn’t touch it.

  “It’s yours now,” she said. “You accepted it. Be careful what you accept – you know how the saying goes, something like – be wary of gifts from strangers. The cry you heard in your condo came from the owner of this paw. The thing that crawled up your bed was part of this, not my sweet Thesia; she was protecting you.”

  “But –”

  “Jane, if you want to keep Meadowvale safe, keep that safe.”

  “How do I get rid of it?” I asked, feeling like I was going to cry.

  “You can’t. Not yet.”

  “When?” I asked, refusing to leave with that horrible thing in my purse.

  “I’m not sure, but by protecting it, you’re protecting William” She shoved me out the back door and locked it behind me.

  “I don’t want it,” I said again and heard the lock click behind me. I heard her through the door.

  “William’s transforming,” she said. “You won’t recognize him.”

  “Transforming into what?” I asked, filled with anxiety.

  “He’s not done. Keep that gift safe somewhere and, well, it should all work out just fine for him,” she said then hesitated, “and for you, too,” she added, but more weakly.

  When I stepped out of Maisie’s back door my mind raced like a hamster in a wheel. I nearly stepped on a young girl hunkered down in the alcove of the shop’s rear exit. I’d seen her earlier staggering across the main drag toward the shop but hadn’t thought about her again until I nearly stepped on the woman. She looked like she’d seen better times. She grabbed my ankle as I tried to step over her.

  “Where’s the front?” she asked. She had a Russian accent.

  “Round front,” I said, feeling a little stupid, “on the main street.” The girl was high on something, and that’s why she didn’t know back from front, I assumed.

  “My name is Cassandra Baranova, Cassie for short,” the young woman said, in what sounded like a put-on Russian accent. Cassie was very, very high. Her leggings were ripped; her broken fingernails all different colours, and she had a black eye. Slowly she pushed herself up off the ground, and in spite of her dilapidated look, her body fitness was admirable. She moved gracefully and with strength as she lifted herself. Even when she staggered her balance was impeccable, allowing her to do a little hop and skip to keep from tumbling.

  I followed as she quickly moved to the street then to the front of the curio shop, pulling its door open, she headed inside.

  Across the street I noticed a young man watching the wayward girl. I peered through the front window. Maisie conversed with the sketchy young woman, who somehow looked like a hooker of sorts. I followed her back inside the shop.

  I thought Maisie might need my support.

  Maisie gave me a look. What was I doing back?

  She was showing the young woman a tray of silver lockets.

  “I had full locket,” the young woman explained. “I lost half, but has a match, a partner that fits together with mine.” She reached under her t-shirt and pulled out a large half-heart shaped object dangling from a chain around her scrawny and dirty neck. “This is half. I need other half.” She continued to claim that the half locket had a half partner that she must have, and explained as best she could in her slurred and broken English that she wanted back the partner locket to the one she wore.

  She turned to me and showed me the one around her neck. The locket was meant to lock together with its other half.

  “My boyfriend hocked other piece of locket for money, but I know he got from here and I want to buy a new set. When two pieces are together, it make him love me more.” She claimed the locket was magic. She repeated this over and over.

  “I see the effects of his love,” I said.

  Maisie put a finger to her lips, signaling me to be quiet.

  The girl pouted at me and looked me up and down then decided, I think, I wasn’t worth any of her trouble.

  While Maisie continued to help Cassie find what she was looking for, I went to the back of the shop and retrieved the deck of cards, becoming more and more suspicious of Cassandra Baranova by the moment. I put the cards in my pocket and came back.

  Maisie still worked the girl, so I took a moment to shuffle through the deck, and I found the card I was looking for--the Lovers. I had a strong suspicion that Ms. Baranova came from the Lovers’ card. I was tempted to touch her and see if she disappeared. But I hesitated. It wasn’t like Maisie to take so much time with a customer, especially one who was from the deck. The curio shop should have been the last place the girl from the Lovers’ card wanted to be. Did Maisie actually want me to touch the card to Cassie? I decided to hold off.

  I watched the two of them haggle a minute longer until Maisie turned away to get something for the girl. While Maisie’s back was turned Cassie reached over and under the counter to steal a handful of pretty gemstone rings that Maisie imported from India. I didn’t say anything, but I watched the drugged-out girl shove them into her pocket so quickly that one fell to the floor and rattled its way under a shelf.

  She looked to me and our eyes met. I smirked. Maisie acted like she didn’t hear the tinkle of the fallen ring. Just then, Cassie’s cell went off with a terrible brraaap, brraaap, brrrap. With a shaky hand, she pulled the phone out of a pocket and silenced the cell. I watched her check her messages and she looked disturbed. She looked out the front window. I looked too and saw him waiting for traffic to get out of his way. Her pimp boyfriend crossed the road.

  “Who’s that?”I asked.

  “A friend,” she said.

  “What’s he want?” I asked.

  Maisie noticed the young man headed toward the curio.

  “It’s her pimp boyfriend,” I said. Cassie gave me a nasty glare, like a cat hunting a mouse. We watched as the tall, thin boyfriend made his way through traffic, at first careful and slow as he wound through a small traffic ja
m, and then he leaped and bounced his way over cars, his runner’s barely touching off bumpers and car hoods. He, too, seemed to be some kind of athletic phenomena, a parcour Olympian. He pushed on his phone and Cassie’s cell vibrated like a bee caught in a can.

  She took the call, even though he stood right outside the shop.

  “Hi baby,” she said, in a very submissive tone of voice.

  A loud stream of expletives could be heard at the other end of the phone and outside. He didn’t seem to want to come inside. Cassie ended the conversation.

  “He’s here,” Cassie said, and then asked to use the bathroom out back. When she was gone, I turned to Maisie.

  “They’re from the deck?” I asked Maisie and nodded toward the young man. Maisie didn’t say anything. “Lover-boy probably pawned his half of the locket and wants another half to pawn again. Maybe Cassie’s figured out that a whole locket is worth more than half and wants to do the same with hers.”

  “No,” Maisie said. “I’d know if that was the case.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I’d feel it. When you’re the guardian of the deck, anything to do with it is felt right here,” she said, making a fist with her right hand and holding it over her heart, “And here.” She moved the fist to her gut.

  I made a sour face. “Sounds painful.”

  The door banged open and in came Cassie’s lover-boy. That was my opportunity to remove the cards from my pocket and put them behind the counter, out of harm’s way. Lover-boy nodded at Maisie and then pretended to be interested in a few things on a shelf, but his eye kept wandering to the back of the curio. Finally, he spoke.

  “The girl?” he asked the two of us. Maisie gave me a look that jammed my voice in my throat.

  “She’s powdering her nose,” Maisie said sweetly. “She’ll be right back.” She went to the front counter and pulled out a tray of beautiful silver lockets and from the far corner lifted one interlocking locket. I swear it hadn’t been there earlier, but there it was two hearts interlocked, a man and a woman embracing; the locket floated in the air, each side attached to its own chain. Maisie showed the young man how they came apart and how each half could be worn separately. “She likes this one,” Maisie said, holding it out to him.

  “I bet she does,” he said.

  “Take it on credit. We have a very good plan,” Maisie said.

  “Yeah, sure go ahead and wrap the sucker up,” he said. While Maisie got busy with him, I went to the back to see what Cassie might be up to. But she was long gone.

  The bathroom was empty; her drug paraphernalia, the only evidence that she was ever there, an old needle and a zip lock baggie, lay in the sink. The backdoor was unlocked and wide open. I saw a security camera up there. I waved bye-bye to it and made my way down the back lane.

  7.

  Strange Things Happen

  Being a nice sunny afternoon, I decided to walk back to my condo. I needed the exercise, and I wanted to think about William.

  A stray leaf blew around in the slight breeze, and the leaf touched the side of my head and spun away. That touch felt too strong for a windblown leaf, too light for a bug. It caught my attention. The leaf disappeared, and I didn’t think about it again.

  I didn’t get far when a stranger thing happened. The leaf turned into one of Maisie’s tarot cards blowing around on the street. At first, I didn’t recognize it. When it scurried passed my foot, I recognized it as a card, and I stepped down on it to stop its blowing around. I picked it up.

  It looked a little worse for wear, but it probably hadn’t blown around very long. I liked the look of the card. It gave me a very good feeling with its bright, bold colours. I recognized it as the Wheel-of-Fortune. I thought it very odd that this card escaped Maisie’s deck and shop. The image on the card included a series of animals as they ran around the outer edge of the card; their little legs looked like they moved quickly, like they spun the wheel at the center of the picture.

  I turned to look back at the curio shop. I’d had enough of Maisie, and Cassie and her creepy boyfriend. I thought to put the card in my purse. When I glanced at it once again, there, in the center of the spinning wheel, I saw William’s face looking out at me.

  “William?” I said. But the instant I said his name he disappeared. I put the card in my purse. When I looked up, a young woman stood before me, hardly a woman.

  She looked pale with nearly white blond hair and eyes as dark as freshly turned soil. She wore a soft coloured summer shift, sleeveless and a pair of tiny white sandals; at first glance, she appeared barefoot. She sure wasn’t tall, but stood only a bit taller than me. When she smiled a perfect row of small even teeth added to her childlike quality. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Temmie.” She held out a slender arm and hand for me to shake. I shook the girl’s hand.

  “Hello, Temmie. My name is Jane.”

  “You’re the person that will take over for Miss Maisie when she leaves the shop?” she asked. Who the heck was spreading this rumor? I hated to break her heart, but I couldn’t let that rumor persist.

  “Oh, no dear, I don’t think Miss Maisie really wants to leave her shop and move on. I do know her. We have discussed my taking over her position, but I’ve turned her down, several times now.”

  “As have others,” the girl said.

  “Others?” I was curious to know who these might be and how exactly they managed to get away. “What others?” I asked.

  “Oh, that’s not so important now that you’re here, but I don’t want to keep you from your destiny,” she said, so sweetly I wanted to hug her. And I did.

  She made me feel pure, and young, and free. I found it hard to let her go.

  “Would you mind if I kept the card you found?” she asked me. She pointed to my purse.

  I pulled it out. But I held it tightly, even though I couldn’t wait to hand it over to her. I so wanted her to feel happy.

  “Did you lose this card?” I asked and held it toward her. Both my hands clung tightly to the card.

  “I did,” she said, but she didn’t take it from me.

  She pointed behind her to a truck about a block away. A black pickup that had an object that appeared round and large partially covered with an old blanket loaded in the open back, but the tailgate was up and blocked a full view of what it might be carrying. A driver sat patiently in the cab with his left arm and elbow hanging out the window. He smoked a cigarette.

  “Who’s that?” I asked her. I got a bad feeling from the driver. Temmie’s positive vibe was the exact opposite of the dark, sinister vibe from the driver of the truck. If Temmie’s appearance made me imagine angels, the vibe of the driver of the truck gave me the exact opposite mental image.

  “That’s my shop partner. We work together,” she said, cheerfully. “Maisie needed an antique she owns repaired, so we came by and picked it up. The card you have was attached to the antique, and it blew away when we started driving. I meant to put the Fortune card in my purse not leave it taped to the wheel,” she explained, blushing slightly.

  I handed her the Wheel-of-Fortune card. She took it.

  “What is the Wheel-of-Fortune? I asked her. Is it the card you belong to?” By now I figured she too came from Maisie’s deck.

  Another major loosed upon the world.

  “No. The Wheel-of-Fortunecard is empty at the moment, but will soon be filled. We have to prep it for its new owner. I’m from the Temperance card. Get it? Temmie – Temperance. The Wheel-of-Fortune is a shifting card, a very different card from mine. The Wheel-of-Fortune can change reality. Good fortune, bad fortune.”

  “Really? That’s so interesting,” I said. I wanted to know more. “But it’s not working at the moment?” I asked. “The Wheel-of-Fortune is broken?”

  She smiled at me, maybe even looked a little askance, like she didn’t want to go there.

  “Tell me about the Temperance card, then,” I said.

  “Temperance. I soothe your temper if you have one,” sh
e said. “I keep things on an even keel. “And I swear she sent a vibe toward me that mellowed me right out.

  “I feel it,” I said smiling. “I feel the vibe!”

  “Awesome,” she said, and took my hand a moment.

  “The Wheel-of-Fortuneis one of the most powerful cards in Maisie’s deck,” she informed me. “Its origins come from the spinning gambling wheel–it can have an immediate effect on people’s lives. The wheel broke, not the card itself. The antique wheel still works a little bit. Want me to show you what it’s capable of?” she asked.

  Oh, did I ever want her to show me. I couldn’t believe she was actually going to show me. She told me to wait where I was, and she ran back to the truck. She pulled down the truck’s back gate and struggled a minute to pull out the wheel. She carried the antique to me. It was an awkward piece, not heavy, but difficult to grab onto without it wanting to move in her arms.

  She stopped a moment and took the lace out of her running shoe. She tied the wheel down.

  “If I let it spin, strange things might start to happen.”

  “Couldn’t be any stranger than what I’ve already seen today,” I said.

  “Keep your eye on that clock tower in town,” she said, pointing to the old clock face. It read three o’clock. “When I set the wheel for Time, the hands on the clock will change. She set the wheel’s planchette to point at the scripted word for time, Cronos. She removed the shoelace that kept the wheel from spinning and spun the wheel ever so lightly. When it came to a stop, I noticed the clock tower said five and the traffic in town appeared heavier. Rush hour!

  “That’s amazing! What other settings are there?” I asked. She pointed at the face of the wheel, Time, Day, Night, Inside, Outside, Up, and Down, Here, There, Good Luck, Bad Luck, and some others I couldn’t quite read.

  “You see the problem. The wheel wobbles and the time should only have advanced an hour because it went around once, but instead it advanced two hours! Now I’ve got to put the time back.” She gave it a light spin backwards. It didn’t go ‘round quite, almost. I looked at the clock tower, and it said three-fifteen. “Close enough,” she said, smiling, “At least until we fix it.”