Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down

by Stone, Danika

  Ava answered without looking up.

  “Because it’s bad luck to read your own future,” she said, staring at the underside of her cup. “Dad will read other people’s tea leaves, but never his own… It scares him.”

  Cole nodded, swallowing hard. It scared him too! Behind them in the living room, Oliver shrugged on his grey coat as he stepped toward the stereo, turning on a vinyl record. The speakers snapped and popped before an old big bad tune began to play, hollow with the passage of time. It was a scratchy, faded live recording from many years ago. There was something about it that set Cole’s teeth on edge, as if too many other things were going on in this room. Oliver grabbed a crumpled package of cigarettes from the side table, jogging down to the foyer and heading outside.

  “Back in a minute,” he called as the door closed behind him.

  There was only the sound of the disembodied music from the other room. Cole stared through the kitchen doorway, weighing the desire to leave against the need to stay. ‘Ava needs me…’ He turned back, surprised to catch her staring at him. She gave him a weak smile.

  “What he sees, Cole, it’s only an option,” she said, answering his unspoken fears. “Anything can be changed. You should know that before he starts. It’s not a certainty or a sentence. It’s a… a… hint of what could be. Remember that.”

  Cole nodded, trying to appear calm even though his body was jittery with unexpected nerves.

  ‘I don’t believe any of this,’ a voice inside him whined, ‘It’s not real.’

  Ava reached out, bridging the space between them. The moment their hands touched, he felt more settled.

  ‘I’ll stay for her…’

  Around them, the music played on, rollicking trumpets and a woman’s breathy voice, heavy bass undertones wrapping them in sounds from another time. Cole shifted uneasily while next to him, Ava hummed along to the music. He waited for Oliver to return, his fingers tangled in hers.

  ‘It’s a parlour trick,’ he thought, ‘like palm-reading, or tarot cards, or horoscopes... Lucky guesses and gullible people. Nothing else...”

  Cole was still running through an endless number of ways that this thing he didn’t believe in wouldn’t work when Oliver came back, the warm cigarette smoke lingering in his clothes like incense in a church. Ava shuffled her chair closer to Cole’s, dropping her gaze to the upside-down cup. Her father rolled his long sleeves up, as if ready to start some yard work. Seeing him approach, Cole pulled his cup and saucer back toward him, unwilling to be the first to go.

  “Don’t touch it!” Oliver said sharply, his tone surprisingly unlike the man Cole knew. “Just leave it where it is.”

  Cole nodded, putting his hands in his lap. His body was growing tenser with each passing second; the music and Ava’s reaction and the whole fucked-up scenario were fighting with everything he knew to be true.

  ‘Things don’t work like this,’ his mind observed. ‘It doesn’t make sense...’

  Oliver watched him, his blue eyes dark like deep waters. He seemed heavier than usual; his light good humour was gone. There was no more chatter about the weather or his tour or random quotes, just pensive seriousness.

  “Are you okay with this?” he asked. “You can leave if you want to, Cole. No one’s making you stay here.”

  Ava lifted her eyes, face drawn.

  “Cole?”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” he mumbled. “Really... I want to do this.” His voice shook, but he wanted it to be true.

  Oliver reached out for Ava’s cup a moment later, his attention falling onto her.

  “Make a wish,” he said, taking her hands in his. “Then turn the cup clockwise three times.”

  Ava closed her eyes, her face becoming serious and focused. After a few seconds, she turned the cup once… twice… and a third time.

  The breath caught in Cole’s throat leaving him gaping like a fish out of water.

  ‘Not REAL!’

  “When I read tea leaves,” her father explained, “it’s like getting a shadow of something from the future. Nothing’s ever set. It’s only ripples of what can be. You know what that means, right?”

  “You always have a choice about it,” Cole answered tightly.

  “Exactly,” the older man said with a nod, then turned back to Ava. “Alright,” he said, “let’s begin.”

  Cole watched as he turned the cup over, his eyes drawn to the interior of the vessel and the splotches of black leaves swirling up in a line from the bottom. Cole wasn’t sure what he expected – some kind of incantation, or for him to suddenly start talking in Edgar Cayce’s voice – but instead it was very much how Oliver Brooks always was. They might as well have been in the coffee shop downtown, for all that he had changed. His tone was quiet and rough, same as always, and he chuckled lightly as he picked up the cup.

  “Well, you’ve got your wish,” he said, shaking his head and trying not to smile, “but I don’t know why you wasted a wish on it... I could’ve told you that’d happen anyhow. God, Ava, you just have to look at the two of you to know that—”

  “Dad!” Ava yelped, her cheeks flushing.

  Cole dropped his chin, fighting down the urge to smile. He wondered if she’d wished what he’d hoped she’d wished… and imagining what it would mean for them both. The noose of panic loosened slightly, and he brought his attention back to the cup in Oliver’s hands.

  “Sorry,” Oliver said, scratching his forehead. For a moment, he grinned at Cole, then pulled his eyes back to the cup. “Alrighty then... let’s see... let’s see... the very bottom of the cup is happening right about now...” As he spoke, he gestured with his baby finger, not touching the leaves, but pointing them out as he went. “... and it looks like you’ve made some big decisions lately. Things that’ll affect the rest of your life.”

  “The National Gallery,” Ava prompted, but her father lifted his hand, stilling her words.

  “Don’t help, please... makes it harder...” he muttered, frowning. “No... no... this is a person. Someone tall, with longish hair. I can see you and Cole... and this guy – pretty sure it’s a man – standing just off from the side of the two of you. Cole has no time for him. See here?”

  He gestured again to a splotch.

  “They have a conflict... it’s you, Ava... you know him, somehow... but this guy here... this other guy, not Cole, he’s got a whole different path leading off from him. You might’ve gone that way, I think, maybe at a different time. But in the last few weeks you’ve decided something, severed those ties, made some decision that had changed all that. It’s unravelled it as a choice... he’s going away now. That’s a good choice. Everything after that point becomes clearer based on the decision. You and Cole here, see?”

  Ava had already told Cole about the meeting with Kip when she was shopping with Suzanne. Remembering it, the hair on Cole's arm prickled with apprehension.

  ‘Her dad might’ve already known that...’ his mind hissed, but he couldn’t dispel his rising trepidation. ‘But why would she tell him...?’

  His thought went no further; Oliver was talking again. Cole’s heart was pounding harder with every word. It felt like the floor beneath him was moving, his balance unsettled like a boat on the choppy sea.

  “So as the cup goes up, you can see it heading into the future. The next year is very busy. There’s a trip coming up; I can see you snorkeling.” He squinted, pulling the cup nearer. “The Caribbean maybe? I’m not sure, but I see a sea turtle. Anyhow, there’re all sorts of family-related items too. There’s a woman here – looks like she’s a writer or something.” Oliver laughed. “The image here is of a pile of books on a desk... maybe not a writer... perhaps a librarian? But anyhow, she becomes important to you, Ava... and to Cole too.

  “There’s an older man there too – not me – but he’s important too. There’s a symbol next to him: it’s a flag. He’s sort of a father figure, I’d say, but I think he has something to do with Cole more than you... though there’s confli
ct there too. Good Lord, there’s a whole mess of it! Just awfully muddy in this one part of the cup... shadows around the two of them... Cole and this man... so much anger...”

  For a moment, Oliver stopped talking and looked at his daughter, voice growing serious.

  “I don’t want you worrying about it,” he said, “the conflict isn’t because of you, Ava. Don’t think that. It’s just that there’ll be some moments when you need to step in, and you should be ready for it. It’s going to be a hell of a fight... but I think you’re up to it.”

  He winked. Across from him, Cole’s eyes darted to his own upside-down cup, wondering what Oliver would see in his future.

  ‘Cold calling...’ his mind whispered, but the voice inside was less sure than before.

  “You’ve got big events coming next summer... graduation, of course: here’s a cap and placard... but there’s also money in this cup: dragons and good fortune.” He chuckled. “God help me, but I think you might actually be able to support yourself on this Arts degree.” He laughed and Ava giggled, and then his voice settled back into its regular pattern.

  “There’s a show at a gallery... and yes, it’s probably the National Gallery, but then I knew that anyhow.” He frowned, leaning closer. Cole found himself leaning in, too. “I want you to be watching for someone that night. This sounds foolish, but this image I’m getting is a mandarin orange – whatever that means – who knows, could be nothing. But there’s someone there, and he’s really, really important, Ava. Remember that. For some reason, that’s the image I’m getting with him. An orange.”

  Ava nodded. In the other room, the music had shifted to another song, low and plaintive.

  “Whoever it is, he’ll be a kind of mentor to you. Next to him is a plane... and more dragons, and a map of the far East... and that’s almost at the top of your cup. Perhaps a trip or a show... everything leading into the future... And more dragons... everything just leading up and away from there. There’s Cole there too. He’s standing next to you. The two of you together.”

  Oliver sighed tiredly, turning the cup over and over again in the palm of his hand. Cole let out a relieved sigh, his hands unclenching.

  “Now, we could stop here,” her father said, “or we could go forward another year...” his voice grew quiet. “But I don’t want to do either.”

  Next to Cole, Ava straightened up in concern.

  “Why?” she asked warily.

  “Well, here’s the thing,” he said, gesturing to the bottom of the cup. “There’re all these swirls in your teacup. Things I’ve never seen before... like knots of rope or seaweed... snarled... not troubles, per se, but some kind of links to you... and they’re all coming from the very bottom of your cup. All of them tethered together.”

  Oliver cleared his throat, his fingers covering his mouth for a moment, brushing over his lips distractedly.

  “I don’t know, Ava,” Oliver muttered, “but I’d almost say that what happened to you tonight with Cole’s sculpture had nothing to do with what’s going on with you right now at all.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, fear creeping into her words.

  Cole glanced into the cup, and sure enough, the bottom was a web of swirling lines... almost like Ava’s painting of the snake and the coins. These threads reached up from the bottom, touching bits and parts of the other images.

  Entangling them...

  “If it’s okay with you,” Oliver said, “I’d like to do a reading from your past, rather than your future.”

  Chapter 8: The Snake is a River

  “A reading from my past?” Ava repeated.

  Her father nodded.

  “If that’s all right with you.”

  Ava stared down at the cup, chewing anxiously at her lower lip. The music played on behind the group of them, a single note pulsing for a long moment, a woman’s keening voice.

  Decision made, Ava looked up.

  “Yes.”

  Her father set her cup upside-down on the napkin in her saucer. He reached forward, putting his fingers on either side of hers, holding her hands tightly. Sad notes of trombone and saxophone rose and fell like waves around them. Cole's heart was in his throat as he watched. He had been pushed to the side. Forgotten for a moment.

  ‘Not sure I like this...’

  “There’s no number of turns to this one,” Oliver explained, eyebrows pulled together in concentration, “just go backward — counter-clockwise this time — as long as you want to, Ava. Let your mind wander if you can, and I’ll look if I can see anything that’s coming up from there.”

  ‘Up from where?!’

  Ava nodded. Cole could see she was scared. His body was starting to twitch in anticipation. Ripples from the future he could almost wrap his head around, but the past affecting the present made no sense whatsoever. Tonight had jumped from the realm of science fiction to complete fantasy. He couldn’t quite keep up with the script. He reached up for the collar of his t-shirt, tugging it away from his throat. It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

  “Will it work?” Ava asked.

  Oliver laughed, his fingers still on hers.

  “It didn’t matter what’s in your cup,” he said, winking. “It already happened, right? So there’s no point worrying about it. Nothing to be scared of.”

  Ava nodded again. The same feeling Cole’d had at the studio when he saw Ava’s painting of the swirling clouds – fear and horror – was starting to mesh with his apprehension. For a moment, he considered just calling it a night and walking out. But then Ava set her fingers lightly on the edge of the upside-down cup and began going backward, counter-clockwise. Her eyelids fluttered, then closed. She almost looked asleep except for the endless turning of her fingers.

  Cole waited.

  And waited.

  And waited...

  The turning went on for longer than he’d imagined it would, his mind starting to wander. He was tired and strung out from the aftermath of Ava’s reaction to his sculpture. Across from him, Oliver watched the motion of Ava’s fingers, body poised and waiting.

  ‘Wonder how long this will—’

  “Now,” Ava whispered, her eyes blinking back open.

  Her voice had changed and Cole jumped at the sound, feeling a cold tremor run the length of his spine. There was a strange canter to her words. Like she was speaking with an accent he’d never noticed before. She looked sadder… care-worn. The sight of her pursed lips reminded him of something or someone he couldn’t quite place.

  ‘Something from a dream I once had...’

  Cole cringed at the thought.

  “Okay, then...” Oliver said, picking up the cup, and glancing down into the bottom.

  Cole could see that more than half of the tea leaves now sat on the discarded napkin in the saucer. The interior of this cup was far more barren and sterile that her first. It looked like a faded map.

  “This reading’s definitely an old one.” Oliver began. “It’s the end of a long journey... maybe across the ocean. I can see a group of people going out for a long, long time... travelling so far that they can no longer see the shore of where they’d left from. See here?”

  He gestured to a lump in the center.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’d say that’s a ship of some kind,” Oliver continued. “An old, big-bellied one, maybe a galleon.” He frowned, squinting. “Actually, it’s not one boat, it’s two. There’s a second one there, in the distance… following from behind. They’re moving together, leaving one place, going to another. Heading to another land. It’s a new beginning...”

  Cole’s heart shuddered against the walls of his chest, his breath becoming jagged; he felt like he’d been running.

  ‘It’s not real!’

  “Things had gotten very bad in the place you left from, Ava. People were fighting,” he said, voice sad. “Sickness… poverty… The place you were headed was a beginning. You were starting a new life, but it wasn’t easy. People were being tested, their faith
questioned. You most of all...”

  Ava gasped. Cole reached out, weaving his fingers into hers. He squeezed, then let go. (He didn’t know how to reassure her when he was fighting the terror, too.)

  “But you survived it... both of you, actually…”

  “Both?” Ava asked.

  “Yes, the two of you. Look, there’s Cole there too.”

  The older man gestured with his finger to a small shape of leaves, but the smudges looked like nothing to Cole, so he simply sat back and listened.

  ‘Could be anything,’ his mind prompted. ‘Doesn’t mean a goddamn thing...’

  He didn’t know why the words bothered him so much. Why he was getting more edgy by the second. The record had switched to a new song, the instrumental music slow and melancholy.

  “When the ship begins to near this new land, there’s so much hope. I can see you standing on the deck of the ship, looking up at the birds. See here, Ava? Yes, that’s a bird, and you’re watching it, knowing that you’re almost there…” Oliver’s words suddenly stopped, eyes widening.

  “What?”

  “It’s um…”

  “Dad, what?!”

  Oliver’s chin bobbed up, eyebrows furrowing in alarm.

  “Before you make it ashore, there’s a storm, a terrible storm. The two ships are torn to pieces. There are people in the water, screaming. So much death… so many dying. Oh Ava, I’m sorry.”

  “And Cole?”

  “No, Cole’s okay. He’s swimming. Wait! You’re there too! But something’s not right…” He lifted the cup closer, brows low over his eyes. “You’re both there at the end – I can see the two of you together … both of you on a beach but… but…” He frowned, eyes narrowing. “Hold on… Yes, both of you made it to the shore. The storm’s ending, and you’ve made it to safe harbour. I can see you, Ava… you’re lying in the grass, looking up to the sky. Cole’s beside you… the new land surrounding you… swirling grasses and low rolling hills... And from above I can see something that looks like a snake...”

  ‘The snake is a river,’ Cole’s mind announced. At the words – coming from someplace deep inside him – his body began to quake.