Never Fear - The Tarot: Do You Really Want To Know?

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Never Fear - The Tarot: Do You Really Want To Know? Page 20

by Heather Graham


  As the door closed, the last sounds Jimmy heard were the soft sobs of his wife.

  “Focus, Jimmy, yah damn bum! You’re slacking,” Tino shouted as his hand lashed out to slap the back of Jimmy’s head.

  The painful slap broke Jimmy out of his reminiscing. He shook his head and redoubled his efforts, his thoughts turning back toward his combinations, allowing his muscle memory to take over as he settled into his routines.

  Tino did not, however, relent with his verbal assault. “How do you expect to even last a single round in the ring with Magnus ‘The Mountain’ Magni? He is six feet, four inches of solid massive muscle. He is undefeated and has sent twelve of his last twenty opponents into the hospital. Jimmy, he is not just looking to beat you and claim your undefeated record. He wants to destroy you, to show everyone that he is the best.” Tino paused for a moment, concern filling his wrinkled face. “You were the best, Jimmy. Anyone dumb enough to jump into the ring with you would get pounded. No matter their size and skill. Yah know why? Because you wanted it more! You had fire in your gut! But that was eight years ago. Now… now you could die, Jimmy, if you go through with this. I know the pay is a lot, even the loser’s cut is plenty. But what’s the point if you lose your life?”

  Tino gently placed his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Cancel the fight. You know I’m retiring. You can take my position as coach at the gym. It don’t pay much, but with you coaching I’m sure it will draw boxers from all over, and business will skyrocket.”

  Jimmy’s shoulders slumped, and he turned, flashing Tino that crooked smile with a few missing teeth. “I know, Tino, and I will love the job, but I have to do this first.” Jimmy hesitated, his eyes flicking away from Tino’s as he paused for a moment, finally after a protracted pause he spoke. “I need to fight—I need to win.”

  Tino shook his head, chuckling softly. “Lad, you have no idea what you’re getting into. I’ve seen Magnus. There is almost no—”

  Raising his hand, Jimmy Stalled Tino’s counsel. “You don’t understand, Tino. Almost all the money is gone. I trusted the wrong people, and… now it’s almost all gone. I haven’t told Audrey. She just thinks I lost a little. But in truth, Tino, we’re just a few months away from the poor house. And even if I took the coaching job, all that will do is allow us to survive. That’s not enough for me, Tino. I wasn’t ever a person to settle, to scrape by. Audrey wants more children, but I won’t bring any more children into this world. Not until I know I can provide for them properly. I need to do this. Not for myself, but for Audrey and Ginny.” Jimmy yanked his gloves off, flexing his wrapped hands a little, frowning as he gazed at them. “If only I was ten years younger. Or stronger. If only for this fight, just for this fight. I would be done; no more fights, no more gimmicks. No more dumbass decisions made behind my wife’s back.” Jimmy sighed the sigh of a man who knew defeat, but still hoped for victory.

  Tino’s grip on Jimmy’s shoulder grew tighter for a moment, before going slack. “You mean that, Jimmy? You swear to me that if you win, you will be done with boxing? Other than coaching?”

  “I was done eight years ago, Tino, when Ginny came. I knew in my heart I was done. But I was stupid, and because of it I jeopardized my family’s future. All I need is this one last win. The odds against me are so high that if I took what savings I have left and placed it on myself to win, and I actually managed to win… my children’s, children’s, children would be set.”

  “Do you swear it, Jimmy?” Tino’s voice rose in intensity.

  “Swear to me if you won this fight, it will be your last.”

  Jimmy turned. Confused, he gazed at his friend and mentor, who had just turned a few shades paler. “I swear, Tino, that if I win this fight, I will never box again.” Jimmy smiled, his wrapped right hand moving up to rest upon Tino’s. He could feel and see his friend’s hand trembling. It made him think. This is what it must look like when I get the shakes. Audrey and Tino are right, I need to stop. This will be my last fight!

  The pressure from Tino’s hand finally lessened, and his voice steadied. “All right then, I think I can help you, Jimmy. I know a man, one of those Chinese mystics. Me and a bunch of my buddies once saved him and his family from a lynch mob, back during WWII. It was when the country was rounding up all the Japs and re-settling them in camps across the country. Back then, any Asian was considered a Jap. Gang Liu and his family had come here before the war. They were nice people, they just looked like the enemy, and that alone after Pearl Harbor was as good as a death sentence. Gang’s family had been driven from their small apartment and were cornered down in 42nd street. Me and my buddies saw what was going to happen. We knew Gang was Chinese, so we intervened on their behalf. We were able to convince the group to take their racial-fueled bloodlust elsewhere.”

  Jimmy groaned. Crossing his arms, he turned to face his friend. “You’re rambling, Tino. What does some Chinese man you saved a few decades ago have to do with helping me win a fight?”

  “If you would let me finish, I was getting to that!” Tino snapped back after Jimmy’s interruption. “As I was saying, we save Gang and his family. Later he approached me and the guys while we were getting a drink down at O’Rileys. We were confused about why—”

  Jimmy’s eyes rolled as Tino’s story once again began to go off the tracks. He uncrossed his arms, rolling his now open hand in a simple “get on with it” gesture.

  Tino’s face turned a light shade of red. “Fine, Fine! Turns out Gang was some kind of Chinese Mystic. Or so he claimed he was to me and my buddies. Told us he would grant each of us a gift for saving him and his fam—”

  “Tino, I ain’t going to no Chink magic—”

  “Shut yer fucking mouth and listen to me, boy!”

  Tino’s sudden outburst came so unexpectedly that Jimmy rocked back an inch.

  “I’m trying to do you a favor here. I know it sounds strange, almost crazy. But this man… he knows things, strange things. Remember Jack’s daughter? She got all sick, doctors said she had cancer.”

  Jimmy nodded.

  “Well Jack took her to Gang, and within a day she was already getting better. I saw her just last week, all strong and healthy looking. Doctors could not explain what happened to the cancer. And then there was Finn. He started to lose his sight, went to Gang, and within a week he could see better than any twenty-year-old. I have never used my gift. My life is good and I don’t need no celestial magic used on me. But…” Tino paused, that same hesitant tone once more entering his voice. “…you need something that I can’t give you. A chance, a way to win. But perhaps Gang can. What do you say? Come with me and we will go visit him.”

  Jimmy laughed softly and shook his head. He began to unwrap his hands, peeling the tape off quickly. “OK, Tino, I’ll bite. Let’s go see your old slant-eyed warlock buddy.”

  Tino flashed a glare toward Jimmy. “Watch your tongue, boy. You better show this man respect in every way when you see him, or else he won’t help”

  Jimmy held up both hands, one now unwrapped, with a placating motion. “OK, Tino, I’ll be good. But we gotta hurry. Audrey won’t be happy if I’m late for dinner.” Jimmy tossed his gloves and wraps into his gym bag. Moving toward the exit, he tossed it over his shoulder and waited as Tino shut off the lights and locked up. They headed out the door. Instead of turning to go north, which was the normal route, Tino headed south, heading toward Chinatown, which was only a few blocks away.

  *

  Chinatown was a sea of people and a bouquet of exotic smells. Jimmy and Tino waded through all of this, weaving down crowded alley after alley. Jimmy was lost after the fourth turn down some alleyway stuffed with various shacks selling all kinds of things, most of it strange looking and odd smelling. But eventually Tino turned and stopped in front of a small store set within a brick building. Jimmy could tell by the different-colored patchworks of bricks that the building was old, perhaps from the early 1900s, maybe even late 1800s. There was no window, only an old door crac
ked with age and covered with an unaccountable number of paint layers, the foremost of which was a dark green, which in turn was covered in strange, painted symbols of gold and red. A small, dirty window sat toward the top of the door, thick smoke curling behind it. A sign hung above the door, but the words, like the symbols upon the door, were Chinese, so Jimmy didn’t bother thinking on it. Tino seemed to know where he was going and that was good enough.

  Tino strode through the doorway. The interior exhaled a thick cloud of incense smoke. At least Tino hoped it was incense. “Better not be some opium den, Tino.”

  Jimmy’s quip was quickly answered. “Shut yer mouth, Jimmy! Don’t say anything unless you’re spoken to, got it?”

  Jimmy nodded. He needed to win this fight, and if this crazy Chinese wizard could help him, then shut his mouth he would. Jimmy reached up to wipe his fingers through his greased hair, slicking it back as he strode behind Tino into the little shop.

  The smoke was so substantial he couldn’t see past his own nose. His mama’s tales of the Tiber valley back in the old country came into his mind. “And I swear, Jimmy, the fog was so thick when I was walking home, I always would get lost. That is how I met your father, stumbling up to his family’s farmstead after being lost in the fog.”

  But as quickly as the fog had surrounded him and his mama’s voice had filled his ears, it was gone, replaced with Tino’s old but strong grasp yanking him forward, a harsh whisper emanating from Tino. “Jimmy, what’s the matter with yah? I said don’t open yer mouth, not stand around looking like you’re funny in the head.”

  Tino let go of Jimmy’s shirt and stalked off down a narrow aisle. Jimmy shook his head, blinking rapidly as his eyes teared up from the incense that was now seeming to recede from around him.

  The small room was packed from floor to ceiling with all kinds of oddities. They were stuffed in old wooden shelves and cracked display cases in such a manner that only a madman would have been able to know what was where, much less do any sort of inventory.

  Jimmy could not make out what many of the oddities on the shelves were: strange, unfamiliar objects made from all different kinds of material alongside jars filled with only God knew what; strange hanging plants, which somehow seemed to thrive despite the room being devoid of sunlight; and above all else, strange figurines and statues. Hundreds of them, all shapes and sizes. Some of people as well as all kinds of creatures, from dragons to turtles to monkeys. They were scattered all over the shop. Jimmy glanced up as he passed another hanging plant—or what he thought was plant at first.

  “Holy fuck, is that a shriveled monkey hand?” Jimmy leapt back, bumping into a solid display case, but thankfully not knocking anything over. He grimaced as he took in the gruesome sight of that furred little hand, tiny shriveled fingers curled into its own palm but a few still stretched outward.

  “Ahhh, I see you have taken notice of a most obscure item.”

  Another shriveled hand rested upon Jimmy’s shoulder, but as his head snapped to the side in an almost frantic pace, he saw that this old, shriveled hand was not a monkey’s and was most certainly still attached: long curled fingernails, white pasty flesh, and blue veins that Jimmy thought he saw wriggling under that white flesh. Yes, this hand was most certainly alive and attached, which in no way calmed the tough boxer but only caused his instincts to kick in as he spun around to face the source of that voice and skeletal hand.

  The old man that greeted Jimmy had not been behind that counter a moment ago. But now he stood there. Dark eyes glinted with a life unmatched by the withered body that held them. The old man wore an elaborate robe made of silks dyed red and gold, with strange patterns woven with green thread. When Gang smiled, Jimmy winced at the combination of his missing teeth and the rotten ones that were left.

  “Hello, Gang.” Tino’s voice was calm and toneless, his face a stone mask devoid of emotion as he spoke to the ancient Chinese man behind the counter. “I trust you know—”

  “Yes, I know why you are here. My body might be old, but my mind is not. You have come to call upon the debt owed to you. Very well, what is it that you need?” Those skeletal hands slowly folded back toward Gang’s body, disappearing into the large sleeves of his ornate robe.

  Tino glanced at Jimmy, and when their eyes met he jerked his head slightly toward Gang. “I pass the Debt to you, Jimmy,” Tino declared firmly before looking back at Gang, whose white, bushy eyebrows rose at his statement. “Tell him what you need.”

  “I… I…” Jimmy stuttered, a momentary welling of uncertainty causing the verbal skip. “…need to be strong.”

  “Ha!” The barking, short laugh of Gang filled the room like thunder for a split second. “You are already strong. Look at you, built like an ox.”

  “I need to be stronger, stronger than any man has or ever will be. Just for a short period of time… please.”

  One of Gang’s massive bushy eyebrows rose once again and those sharp eyes bore into Jimmy for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Gang nodded his head. “Very well, a debt was owed and I shall repay it. You shall have what you desire. Wait here.”

  Gang turned, his robes seeming to billow despite the lack of flowing air, and he pushed his way through a curtain of beads behind him. The sound of glass clinking together as well as other strange unidentifiable noises were heard along with strange guttural chants. The chants began to crescendo until, with an almost strangled cry, they ended and the air seemed to hum. A minute later Gang returned, his ancient hand gently grasping a small vial filled with a clear, red liquid that seemed to shimmer for just a moment as it shifted inside its glass container.

  “What is that?” Jimmy asked. Fear mingled with revulsion filled his voice.

  “It is what you asked for. But if you want specifics, there is some yak-blood, some crushed elephant tusk, some rhino horn, the eye-juice of a tuna…”

  Jimmy raised his hands quickly, stalling the ancient man’s foul list before he named something that would make him mess up the shop’s floor with a potion made from what was currently in his stomach. “No, no I’m good.” Jimmy reached out his trembling hands. One of his episodes. He gritted his teeth but right as he was about to grasp the red vial of liquid the old man pulled his hand away.

  “There is a price for magic, boy. I told all those who came in before you, and since the debt is now yours, I shall explain the same to you as I have to the others before you. There is always a price you pay for this. Be sure that you are willing to pay for what you take.”

  Jimmy’s calloused hand snapped back to his body, and within a second he had made the sign of the cross. “I ain’t sellin my soul!” He began to backstep, but paused as laughter rich and loud echoed from the man before him, like the short barking laugh from before. The noise did not match the mouth that it issued from. It was rich and deep, full of life, but life of a younger man, not the skeleton before him. The old man laughed without breath or pause for what seemed like forever before he calmed, his remaining yellow teeth now exposed as he grinned widely. “I am not your white Devil, boy. I do not want your soul, nor would such minor magic ever cost such a terrible price. I do not know the price, for the magic determines what it is. All I can tell you that the price for each man is always different. If you drink this, you will pay a price. But it is yours alone to discover, and to live with.” His gnarled hand extended once more, and curled fingers and long yellowed nails unfolded, offering once more the potion.

  A voice deep inside of him whispered not to take it. That voiced found its way out as Jimmy turned his head toward Tino. “Tino, what happened to Jack and Finn? What price did they end up paying?”

  Tino’s faced scrunched, his eyes glazing over in thought moments passed before he spoke. “Last I heard from Finn was he was heading west to live with his brother. His house had burnt down; he lost everything he owned in a few hours.”

  “As for Jack, a few months after his daughter got better he was run over by some crazy driver on his way home. Poo
r bastard will never walk again. But his daughter’s doing well. Gonna be heading to college come summer.” Tino’s voice became distant. His thoughts surely mimicking Jimmy’s as he thought about his friend’s miraculous blessings followed by their untimely tragic misfortunes.

  Jimmy’s head snapped back toward Gang. “So that was their price? One lost his home and all his worldly possessions, and the other his legs?”

  Gang lowered his extended arm and merely shrugged. “The magic chooses the price, not I. Nor do I know if those things that happened to them were indeed the price they had to pay. I only know that the price was paid. I can sense such things, but nothing more.” Gang lifted his arm again in offering, the potion sitting in his now open palm as his fingers uncurled from around the vial. “Take it or not, I have made the potion and my debt is now settled. Drink it and gain the strength you desire, but also gain a debt that the magic will call upon. Or don’t, and you will owe nothing. The choice is yours and yours alone.”

  Jimmy should have left, should have turned tail and run out of this smoke filled shop of mysterious and horrors. But there was more at stake than his own well-being, or his crappy possessions. Images of himself in a wheelchair or watching his apartment complex burning down filled his mind. But he pushed them deep down with thoughts and images of his wife and child. This is for them, and I will pay any price to get money I need to secure our future. With that final thought Jimmy reached up and snatched up the vial.

  It was time to leave. The smoke was causing his skin to itch, and it felt as if he could barely breathe.

  Right as he reached the smoke-covered door, Gang spoke out once more. “Drink it right before the fight, and for an hour you shall have what you asked for, strength beyond that which any man has, or ever will have.”

 

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