Simple Things

by Press, Lycan Valley

  She nodded yes and said, “Tarot card readers? Really?”

  “You know how she is,” he said in a pathetically apologetic voice. “She’s looking for a cheap reader, something in the twenty dollar range.”

  Rosa wrote down an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Jeff. “Meet me here in two hours. That’ll be more than enough time for your meeting with the Dean.”

  Novacs looked around and without meeting eyes with Rosa, took the piece of paper with directions to an address on Marengo Avenue, and left the room. The teacher’s assistant slipped into the women’s restroom, where she placed a call on her cell phone. Jeff called his mother from the faculty restroom. He asked her to drop in on Marge and make sure she was all right, that he’d be stuck at the university in meetings all afternoon. She was more than pleased to do a favor for her little baby boy, the professor. Besides, she was quite anxious to see what kind of house her son had purchased for himself and his pregnant wife. “Thanks, Mom,” Jeff said. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner.”

  4

  Marge couldn’t believe she had found a Tarot card reader for less than twenty dollars. After mentioning that she was expecting, the reader promised her a discount on the first reading – only ten dollars. The Taroist, as she called herself, set their first appointment for 1:00 p.m. that afternoon. The movers had finished their work around eleven that morning, so that left her a few hours to shower, lunch, and arrange the kitchen table for a reading. Everything went as planned until 12:30 p.m. when the doorbell rang. There was absolutely no reason for the Taroist to be early, and Marge lost a bit of confidence in the woman if she couldn’t be on time for a meeting. She even considered cancelling the reading. What did she expect for ten dollars, right? However, she was relieved when she found her mother-in-law Regina Novacs at the door.

  “Hi, Marge,” said the older woman. “Jeffry asked me to drop in on you and make sure you had everything you needed.”

  Marge exchanged superficial hugs and air kisses with her in-law before inviting her in. Regina noted the social awkwardness but entered the domicile with a sense of entitlement. After all, this was her Jeffry’s house. “You’re using the same furniture from Boston, I see. I thought you’d have all new furnishings. Jeffry can afford it now, you know. And I did contribute a bit for the baby.”

  “I’m starting with the baby’s room,” Marge said apologetically. “I was looking at cribs online right before you came. It’s just bad timing.”

  “What do you mean?” Regina asked, hearing a little hostility in her voice.

  Well, I invited a Tarot reader over to do a reading of the house,” she said proudly. “You know, a glimpse into the future, so to speak. Boring stuff. You don’t have to stay if you’d rather not.”

  “Really, Marjorie,” she said, emphasizing her full name condescendingly. “Why throw away good money on that?”

  “It’s only going to cost ten dollars,” Marge said.

  “It’s still a waste of good money,” Regina insisted.

  “Please, Regina—Mother, but the Taroist will be here in a few minutes. I’ll make some coffee and expect your best behavior if you intend to stay,” she said in an akimbo position for emphasis. “I appreciate the visit, but I will not have my beliefs mocked. Truce?”

  “Truce,” Regina agreed. “I take my coffee black.”

  “I am Madame Cortez,” the Taroist said, extending her hand to Marge. Her eyes darted to Regina Novacs and she bowed in her direction ever so slightly. She pinched Marge’s fingers lightly then pulled her hand away. She turned away as if looking at the front room when Regina offered her hand.

  “Please sit here,” Marge said, pulling out the sturdy wooden chair that went with the dining room set. The Madame sat and scooted up till her huge bust pressed against the table. She wore a black velvet cloak that covered her oddly flowery dress. She withdrew a red velvet pouch from her long black leather bag.

  “Before we begin, I’d like to dispense with introductions,” Cortez said, eying Regina suspiciously.

  “I’m Marjorie Novacs. We talked on the phone. And this is my mother-in-law Regina Novacs.” Neither Regina nor Cortez offered up their hands. They both gave a courtesy nod.

  Madame Cortez passed the deck of Tarot cards to Marge. It was a reproduction deck of the D’un Tarot de L’an 1736, Spain edition, containing both the Major and Minor Arcana sections. “What a beautiful deck,” Marge said sincerely. “But I’d like only the Minor Arcana reading, if you don’t mind.”

  “As you wish,” the Taroist said and removed the Major cards from the deck. “I take it you already have your question in mind?”

  “I do,” Marge answered. She was surprised that the Madame didn’t express curiosity or interest in her request for a Minor reading.

  “I understand, Ms. Novacs,” she said as if reading Marge’s thoughts.

  “Good,” Marge said. “Then let’s get to it.”

  Regina cleared her throat and asked, “What happens now?”

  “Mother, you promised.” Marge scolded her with a stare.

  “All right, all right,” Regina apologized and turned the invisible key to her lips.

  Madame Cortez held out her hand and Marge handed back the deck to the Madame, who then waited for the words. “No shuffle,” Marge said. And the Taroist turned the top ten cards of the deck to arrange them in classic reading formation. The past, present and future were represented by the layout: six cards forming a crucifix and four cards in the shape of a staff. The cross showed the four directions of the compass and the staff was the needle that pointed to the direction relevant to the reading. Oftentimes the face cards were misinterpreted; for instance, the Death card did not mean death—it denoted sudden and unexpected change. And if the card next to it were a card like The Water Bearer, then the change might mean good fortune; however, if the card behind it were The Hanging Man, then the change meant bad fortune—no “might”. Marge was aware of all the subtleties of a good reading, so she was keeping a close eye on the Madame’s interpretation of the cards.

  But Cortez did not read the cards. She reached into the red pouch and produced five marbles, three Cat’s Eyes and two Puries. Each of the Cat’s Eyes were placed on the North, West, and South position of the crossed cards; the remaining clear marbles were placed one at the top of the staff and one below. They formed a pyramid tilted on its side. “The marbles,” the Madame explained, “fill the gaps left out by the omission of the Major Arcana cards. The oblique pyramid contains the flow of spiritual energy; it prevents the escape of lost spirits. For we open a door with our reading, and should a spirit seek to leave its realm, it will hide in the Canicas, what you call Marbles. These are special to my family and we have passed them down many generations since the time of the Mayans and Aztecas. Listen carefully.

  “The Mayans sacrificed humans for the gods, but the corporeal flesh is but a vessel for the spirit. The sacred blade of the Mayans ended the life of the flesh and freed the spirit to join the gods. The Aztecas beheaded the bodies with the Blade of a Thousand Deaths, so that the corporeal being was sacrificed to the gods, but the head itself contained the spirit. From the head the spirit was transferred to the Canicas, what you probably know as “crystal balls”, fortune teller instruments, brujerias. These marbles are smaller versions of the spirit catchers. The Cat’s Eyes, or Ojos de Gato, imprison the spirit in its maze, whereas the Puries, or Crystales Claros, allow the spirit to gaze out at the world from its cage. I am ready to begin.

  “Please do not express concern,” Madame Cortez said with a bow. “I see the doubt and anxiety on your Mother-in-law’s face.”

  “Proceed with the reading,” Marge instructed the Taroist. “Do not mind the doubter.”

  “As you wish,” Madame Cortez said, fighting back a smile that was neither good nor evil.

  5

  “Sorry, babe,” Jeff apologized, “but that was my Mom and she sounded freaked out. I’ve got to get home. I’ll see you in class
on Thursday.”

  “Here we go again,” Rosa said and ducked under the covers of the queen-sized motel room bed. “I guess I can catch the Metro train home from the college. Oh, right, it doesn’t go by the college.”

  “Don’t be like that, hon,” said Jeff who sat on the bed and caressed Rosa’s shoulder under the sheet. “Why don’t you stay here the night? That way I can come back later tonight when Marge is asleep? Why don’t you visit your mom for a while? Have you seen her since you arrived in LA? Is she still into that witch stuff?”

  “We prefer the word “brujeria”. It’s like the midwifery of the old days. Nothing mystical, that you need to worry about anyway. Why don’t you call me after you know what’s going on,” Rosie suggested and peeked out over the covers. “Then we can decide who’s staying where and who’s coming when. Sound like a plan?”

  Jeff nodded in agreement, kissed her on the forehead, and dashed to his car in the Marengo Motel parking lot.

  6

  “What happened?” Jeff asked with worry in his voice.

  “Nothing that I know of,” Marge said with a shrug. She resumed peeling potatoes.

  “My mother called and told me to come here,” Jeff explained.

  “Your mother left about thirty minutes ago,” she said, dropping the potato into the bowl of water. She then began peeling another spud. “Your mother gave the Tarot reader lady a ride home. They left right after the reading.”

  “Tell me about this lady,” Jeff insisted.

  “Calm down. Your mother sat in on the reading, enjoyed herself with a cup of coffee and offered the Tarot lady a ride home.” Marge smiled as if that’s all there was to it.

  Jeff dialed his mother’s cell phone number. There was no answer. Then he called her landline phone at her Montebello apartment. No answer.

  “Any luck?” Marge asked, feigning concern.

  “Can’t call the police. Do you know the reader’s home address?” Jeff was surprised by the answer.

  “Sure do. Here’s her card. Address is right on it.” She plopped another peeled potato into the bowl of water. “You going over there? Don’t do your scary routine on the old lady, please. Regina will show up somewhere.”

  “I’ll be back in a few,” he said and rushed out the door. He set the GPS with the Tarot lady’s address and backed up. A car driving too fast around the blind corner of the hillside road almost swiped his rear bumper.

  Marge watched the whole thing from the kitchen window and whistled in disappointment that the car had just missed her husband. That accident might have sent her husband’s car careening down the hillside, she thought and went back to peeling potatoes.

  7

  “Professor Novacs,” said Madame Cortez, “please come in.”

  “I’m here about—“

  “Your mother,” she said, finishing his sentence. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Please…”

  “I’m Madame Cortez, by the way. Sorry to keep interrupting you. Continue. I’ll get the coffee.”

  “My mother called me and said something horrible was happening. Did she mention anything to you?” Jeff asked, unsure what he had just gotten himself into.

  “I did a reading for your wife. Your mother observed. I finished and mentioned I was catching the bus home, and your mother said she could drop me off in East LA since she was headed for Montebello. I was very grateful.” Madame Cortez asked Jeff to join her at the kitchen table. He eyed the Tarot card layout on the pink tablecloth.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “The cards or the marbles?” She watched the confusion on his face. “I bet you’ve never seen this layout before. It’s Azteca in origin. But I’m sure you’ve played with marbles in your youth, am I right? Now you’re a man of learning and need to understand the Canicas in a new way; or rather, in the old way. I’m sure you can appreciate the history of this design. The Cat’s Eyes are prisons for evil spirits. The Puries are cages like the cages in a zoo for innocent souls. Do you see the oblique pyramid? Look at the bottom corner, just under the sixth card, the card of the past. What do you see?”

  Jeff leaned closer to the green Cat’s Eye, the marble with the spiral inside, his favorite as a child. Suddenly his mother’s face appeared in the round piece of glass. Her mouth was screaming a silent scream of agony. He confused his memory of marbles as a boy with the image of his mother. Was this real? It had to be real. He felt the Tarot lady’s arm wrap around his forehead, pulling it back, exposing his throat. Her strength was unnatural. She slid the Azteca blade with all the ornamental encryptions inscribed into the handle across the professor’s carotid artery. The razor sharp edge of the knife needed only three more strokes to decapitate Jeffry Novacs. Madame Cortez held his head as a breeze swirled about the kitchen a moment. Then it died out. The blue Cat’s Eye at the north end of the oblique pyramid sucked in the breeze and Jeff’s face filled the marble. Before the agony overtook him and he tried to scream, he saw Madame Cortez holding up his bloody head from her fist. She was laughing.

  8

  Marge answered the knock at the door. The Taroist entered and sat at the kitchen table. The potatoes were boiling in a large pot with some chopped carrots, celery and chayote. The chicken was baking in the oven. “Smells good,” the Madame said in all sincerity.

  “Is it done?” Marge asked.

  “Almost,” she said. After moving the dishes aside, Cortez rearranged the Tarot cards and Canicas. “There was the matter of ten dollars.”

  “Of course,” Marge said, reaching into her kitchen apron. “Here’s your money.”

  “Is this a joke?” Madame Cortez had anger in her eyes as red as the velvet pouch she held in her hands. “Don’t pretend to be so naïve to believe ten dollars doesn’t mean ten thousand dollars. A dime is ten dollars. A C-note is one hundred dollars. Ten dollars is ten thousand dollars. Always has been.”

  “No, you said ten dollars over the phone,” Marge pleaded.

  “Maybe over the phone, but not when you requested the Canicas.” She opened the pouch and retrieved the two Cat’s Eyes. Jeffry was trapped in one, Regina in the other.

  “I’ll get the money,” she said, clearly frightened now.

  “Too late for money. The ritual of vengeance must be performed.” She removed the Crystal Ball from the red pouch and placed it in the center of the Canicas in the oblique pyramid. She lifted the Azteca Blade of One Thousand Souls, spun around and slit Marge’s belly open like a C-section. As Marge fell to the floor in terror, Madame Cortez wrapped her fingers on each side of her own head and twisted her neck back and forth till she lifted her head off her shoulders. Her gaping neck was like a mouth sucking and writhing. She positioned her head next to the grotesquely sized Boulder marble.

  Marjorie watched in horror as the headless Taroist reached her fingers into the gaping wound of her belly and pulled out the fetus and held it to the Crystal Ball; the unformed baby entered the large Purie. Marge could not move as the blood drained from her body. Then the Taroist placed the large Canica on her neck. A sucking noise coming from her neck held the Ball in place. The head of the fetus turned to its mother on the ground, its eyes opened and Cortez looked through the child’s eyes at Marge. Before Marge Novacs died, the old woman wearing the fetus in glass atop her shoulders wrapped her hand around the knife and proceeded to decapitate Marjorie. Her spirit entered the last Cat’s Eye Canica.

  “Mother!” came the scream from behind Madame Cortez. “You were not supposed to take Jeffry from me.”

  It was Rosa Ramirez Cortez. She snatched the Blade from her mother.

  The Taroist tried to speak, tried to explain herself to her daughter through the fetus’s undeveloped vocal cords, but only high-pitched shrills shrieked from the Canica. It wouldn’t have mattered. Jeffry was dead. She saw his grotesque face in the Cat’s Eye on the table, alongside the faces of Regina and Marge.

  Rosa buried the knife into her mother’s neck again and again. It was so easy; th
e blade was so sharp. It tore through tendons, veins, arteries, everything holding the huge Canica to her neck until the Crystal Ball fell and broke. The fetus tumbled out like a broken doll. It was dead. A gentle breeze, soft as a newborn baby, flittered about the room, landing inside one of the Puries.

  Then Rosa Ramirez Cortez plunged the knife into her mother’s head resting on the kitchen table. Its spirit leaped into the final Purie.

  Rosie held the five marbles, watching each of the five faces contort in the throes of pain and suffering. This was not Hell, but it was pretty close.

  9

  The pregnant woman answered the phone. “May I help you?”

  “I heard you do Tarot readings,” the timid woman said, waiting for a response, hoping the answer was no.

  “I believe I can help you. You are having trouble with your husband and seek some spiritual advice. I have access to spirits that know your problems and can offer personal insight. The charge is ten dollars. Do you understand?”

  “That’ll be no problem,” the shy woman said. “My husband is an attorney.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow at 1:00 p.m. I already know the address.” Rosa ended the call and rubbed her huge belly. She carried the child of Jeffry Novacs. If the plan went right tomorrow, she’d exchange the spirit of Jeff for the body of the attorney. That is, if she could trust the instructions of her mother, the late Madame Cortez.

  May I call your attention to this stuffed bear? You just don’t find craftsmanship like this in store bought toys anymore. This teddy bear was given to a special little girl by a man named Daddy. A smart man, this Daddy. He realized that, much like Puff the Magic Dragon, teddy bears can live forever, but…well, you’ll see.

  One night there was a knock on the door and when I opened it I found the bear, an empty gin bottle and a note that said, “V. Franklin lives in a double-wide in western Washington with 9 chickens, 2 guinea fowl, 2 horses, 3 sheep, 1 dog, 1 cat, 5 goldfish, about 160,000 honeybees, and 2 humans. As might be expected, the carpet is filthy. My apologies to Margery Williams.”