by Rose, Rhea
I needed to get invited.
“Okay, I know they party. I've read about it in the local paper. I think they're bikers,” I said, trying to scare her a little so she’d want me to come along. “People who party at Voo-Toos disappear,” I said.
“What?” She gave me a frown. I think that was the first one I’d ever seen on her face. Then she stopped talking to me. She fidgeted with an assortment of pens and paper clips. I watched as she made approving expressions and murmuring sounds as she straightened the pens over and over and then the clips, and then I began to get that feeling, the urge to chew my bottom lip and to place things in a pattern.
The urge rose quickly inside me.
I grabbed pens, paperclips, withdrawal forms, anything I could find, a box of rubber bands. My blotter, my adding machine. My sponge holder. I arranged it all until it was perfect and tight and created a narrative, a story of some sort. The tale of Koldwell Bank. This time everything I’d gathered and organized framed the blotter -- the erasers, the sponge holders, the pencils. I knew I got it all right when I felt the deep need to sneeze. My body shuddered and then I did a nasal raspberry aaaapphooo. And the carnations in their thin vases on the counters between service areas shook and shifted from the force of my blast. I knew then something magical was about to happen.
I studied Glendie very carefully but didn’t see any magic happening around her. She made a face at me because she was one of the few people that knew what it meant when I’d done my OC organizing and my deep seated raspberry sneeze. Glendie made a face that said, See nothing’s happening, but I knew it would arrive. Whatever it was it just needed a little time.
Then I heard the manager’s office phone start to ring. I heard McCarthy answer it.
I turned back to Glendie.
“There's no afterhours party, is there?” I asked.
“Yeah, there is, Jane.”
Neither Glendie nor I noticed Ross McCarthy sneak up on us. I looked at her and she looked at me.
We were both un-tucked with our belly jewelry sticking out.
*
Back at the tattoo shop, Emilia stepped out from the shadows of the dark and musty shop. She held her main fighting sword up. I don’t know if that was the right way to approach the situation she put herself in because whenever she pulls that thing out someone usually dies.
“I’d like to get a tattoo,” she said.
Barkman spun, surprised by her stealth. They eyed one another for several moments. He flexed his hands as if he’d like to tear her apart. Emilia turned on an angle so he could see the display of weaponry she had sticking out of the pack on her back, but instead of being upset Barkman relaxed at the sight of her weapons.
“Oh, you're the death dealer. Darkiness, till death do us part, babe.”
Emilia smirked.
“Are you proposing?” she asked.
“What’s death want with a tattoo?” he asked her.
“You know why I'm here.”
“To kill me? He said, actually sounding nervous. Work with me, demon. Why you wanna go back to that deck so soon? You like being Maisie's handmaid, a puppet with a point?
He laughed at his own joke.
“I’m not here to kill you. And a death dealer is no one's puppet.”
“Whatever you say.”
Barkman went to the counter and pulled out a few binders with tattoo designs in it.
Emi kept her sword high.
Barkman flicked through the plastic covered pages of the tattoo images. “You can't kill me. Death of a major arcana character destroys Maisie's deck, which destroys her.”
“You owe her.” Emilia said.
“Who? Owe who?”
“Maisie. You owe her for a couple of your betrayals from the past. Return with me and I'll see to it that you get to keep your life time membership at the gym,” Emilia said.
“Everyone in that deck owes her, girlie. That’s why we’re in there. What do you owe her? How’d you get to be so special? What makes you think Maisie’s the victim? She’s working you. You’re gonna be the next Maisie Keeper of the cards. Figure it out sweetheart.”
A noise from the room behind Emilia distracted them both.
Devon stepped in from the back of the shop. He was carrying another of his mysterious boxes. Emilia now stood between Devon and Barkman.
She whipped her sword around. “Who's first?”
“Catch!” Devon called to her.
Emilia tells me it all happened in a matter of seconds. One moment she had Barkman right where she wanted him, the next thing she knew Devon was tossing a big cardboard box at her, knocking her off balance. Her instinct was to strike out at the box with her sword and having seen her at work in the past I knew she was deadly accurate, except when it came to Devon. He seemed to be able to get out of the way of Emi’s thrusts and this time was no exception. Emilia struck out at the box but miscalculated, and the large box hit her wrist causing her to drop her sword, but she caught the cardboard box. With her hands occupied she couldn’t go for another weapon.
“Great pitching, Devo!” Barkman said, as he and Devon went in to finish off the defenseless Emi. Emilia had taken a backwards step away from the men and turned her ankle. She fell and her sword skittered away across the floor.
“Two on one? Really?”she said, throwing the box back at Devon.
“Life's never fair,” Barkman reminded her. “Oh, I forgot, you're a death dealer, what do you know about life?
Emilia said she swam like an awkward, broken fish on the floorboards, trying to get to her sword, but the two guys thought it was great fun to play foot hockey with it and, so, they kicked it around for awhile, but neither of them seemed to want to pick the weapon up. Devon finally booted it far beneath some shelves where it disappeared into the spider webs of darkness. Once the sword was out of sight, it wasn’t too hard for Barkman, from the strength card, to physically overwhelm Emilia.
Chapter 10
After-hours Power
Ross McCarthy was forty-five and a bookish looking bank manager, probably an attractive man in his younger years, but he’d let himself go to seed with a pot belly that develops from too much sitting. Yet, he’d managed to hang on to all of his chestnut brown hair. Like me, he was recently divorced, but he wasn’t handling it as well.
He was a lush and a wannabe womanizer. He was also sneaky. Somehow he’d managed to catch the two of us off guard, as we were exposing our belly jewels to each other. I guess it amused him and probably turned him on, whatever. The next thing we knew, he was bearing down on us. He’d actually come out of his office to check out what we were up to. I was surprised because I didn’t think he knew we were there. He strolled over, and we didn’t notice him until it was entirely too late. With his hands in his pants pockets, he interrupted us.
“That was fun,” he said, a smirk on his face.
Glendie and I looked at each other like we both just swallowed a spoon full of poison. Glendie looked so embarrassed I thought she was going to have a stroke. “We've got a special customer coming by this afternoon,” he said.
He didn’t mention our appearance. We were both untucked, jackets off, work blouses unbuttoned. He did take a long drink of our undressed state, but never said anything about it, no reprimand, nothing. Then, as if we came out of slow motion, we quickly tucked our disheveled selves back together as McCarthy watched hungrily.
“Glenny, be sure to show Ms. Starr, here, proper customer service. The client that’s on his way is VIP,” he said.
He winked at me.
I looked at Glendie. “Glenny?”
*
By now Emilia was gagged, bound, and hog tied so she said, and they had stashed her behind a stack of old filing cabinets at the back of the tattoo shop. Still able to see Barkman and Devon, she watched as they bickered over who was going to deal with her deadly sword. According to her accounts the two guys stood over the sword, staring at it. Neither Devon nor Barkman wanted to touch it. They toed
it out of their way. But they were pretty lame about getting rid of it. They were afraid to leave it lying around even though it was under an old desk partially hidden by shadow.
“Take the sword. Lash it to my Harley,” Barkman ordered Devon. It was pretty clear that Devon didn’t want anything to do with Emi’s sword, he reluctantly picked it up and took it out. While Devon was off doing Barkman’s dirty work, the tattoo artist recovered the cardboard box that Devon had thrown at Emi. She’d actually managed to slash down one side of it before she’d been overwhelmed by the two.
Barkman carefully put the slashed container on a table and looked inside.
“Dammit.”
Emilia said she saw a red blood like substance begin to soak into one corner of the box. Barkman delicately touched that corner a few times and then went to the bathroom and returned with some paper towels.
*
Glendie and I had our clothing all tucked together and we were back to looking like professionals, while McCarthy was back in his glass office when we heard the roar of a nearby Harley. We looked up from the mindless paperwork we sorted at our wickets and stared through the large floor to ceiling windows of the bank and watched as Barkman Moore pulled up to the street curb and parked his bike.
He looked rough.
“Is he going to rob us?” Glendie asked, sounding nervous.
I couldn’t help grinning. “He can rob me, anytime,” I said. She gave me a look.
Barkman took a moment or two to secure his Harley and walked the few feet to the bank entrance. He was a sight to behold. He reeked of unconventional swagger. It was such a turn on. He looked like a dark and stormy bad boy. A day or two of facial growth, tight jeans, white T and long sleeved leather jacket that he carried over one shoulder hooked to a finger. I had to bite my lip.
“Ladies. That's him,” Ross called over from his office and pointed.
“Him who?” I asked Glendie. By now Ross had made his way down from his office to the floor of the main foyer to intercept Barkman.
“Our VIP has arrived,” he said, talking to himself. But I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. Glendie and I exchanged looks of wonder. Ross had his business hand out and ready for the handshake.
Glendie and I stood like two mannequins watching the show.
“Hello, Mr. Moore. Welcome to Koldwell.” Barkman didn’t miss a beat. He flipped a handshake and a knuckle bump to old Ross who turned to us and said, “This is Ms. Pin. She has her VIP training. She won our highest honour, a diamond sunburst for excellent service.” Ross stopped short when he saw her empty lapel. Glendie looked down and saw that her pin was gone. She looked horrified.
Ross didn’t even bother to introduce me.
“My pin!” I felt bad for Glendie. I didn’t know then that the pin had been found in Barkman’s shop, or that Barkman actually had it on him. Ross McCarthy looked at me, like I may have had something to do with Glendie’s missing sunburst. Barkman stepped up to Glendie and offered her his hand to shake.
“Hello ladies. My pleasure.” He shook Glendie’s hand then he nodded in my direction, stepped toward me and shook my hand, for an extra long time.
He slid his palm across my palm in a long, slow sensual manner. Glendie and I exchanged looks while Barkman’s hand still held mine! Whooa This guy had my undivided attention. I was filled with a heightened attraction for Barkman Moore.
“I need to get into your vault,” he said to me. I smiled. He led me by the hand toward the bank’s vault where the safety deposit boxes were located. Barkman walked me passed Ross, so I gave him my best so-there look.
Ross looked flustered, like he was trying to think of something to say to pull Barkman and me apart. Finally, he said, “Mr. Moore has to sign in for his safety deposit box.” I saw Glendie grab the sign in ledger from a drawer and chase after us.
“Excuse me, Miss.” Before Glendie could catch up, another customer had come in and came forward to nab Glendie. She looked really frustrated, but there was nothing she could do.
Glendie had to attend to the woman.
The magic was working. I had Barkman all to myself.
A moment later the handsome Barkman and I were in the vault, alone, together. He slipped on his leather jacket then reached into its left pocket. Barkman handed me the number of his box on a slip of paper. I started to look for the box in the wall of hundreds of deposit boxes.
“I'm a collector. I love small, beautiful things,” he said, looking longingly at me. I smiled back.
“Really? Like what type of small things?”
“Anything that takes my fancy.”
“Ah, monetary or sentimental value?”
I was having trouble finding his box among the hundreds that were in the wall of the vault, not mention that I couldn’t keep my eyes away from him. I wanted to keep him talking so I didn’t look stupid.
“Both,” he said dreamily.
Found it! I’d found the box with his number. I paused a moment and looked back for Glendie, but Glendie was still stuck with her customer.
“Key?” Barkman said, handing me the key to his box. Unfortunately, I needed the second key to the deposit box to make it all work. I had no idea where the bank kept its keys for these boxes. This was my first day on the job!
Glendie looked like she’d be busy with that woman for the rest of the afternoon. Desperate, I thought what the heck, and pulled out the key Madam Leonard gave to me last night. I’d give it a try, if it didn’t work I’d have bought myself a few minutes, to try and figure out what would work, but before I could insert both keys into the box, Barkman stepped up and took the Leonard key from me. He examined it very closely. He liked it. “A hierophant key!” he exclaimed.
He looked at me like he was seeing me for the very first time, and I was the woman of his dreams. He looked so dreamy and startled, I laughed.
“Elephant key?” I said, lamely.
“Hierophant.” He corrected me. “The hierophant keeps the keys of the major arcana. He and the hermit work in tandem to make sure the keys are – viable and unavailable.” He looked at me again, assessing me. “If someone gave you this,” he held up the key, “then you have powerful friends, Jane.” He gave me an enigmatic smile.
“How can I get the rest of them?” I blurted out.
“The rest of the Hierophant’s keys? Find him. Ask him for them.” He laughed heartily as if he knew his advice was impossible to follow.
I tried to look confident, as if I knew what I was doing. I indicated that he should go ahead and insert the keys into the box locks. Barkman pushed his bank key and the hierophant key into the locks in a very suggestive manner. He left them for a moment and looked at me. “Do you know what a hierophant key can do?” he asked.
I blinked. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing, but if I lied about the key I’d be busted. I had no idea what a Hierophant key could do, or even if it could do anything. I did know that they could return majors back to the deck, but I didn’t know how. I did what I always do when I find myself in a situation where I have to expose my ignorance. I giggled a little.
“A hierophant key can open things,” he said, mysteriously.
“Ah, gee, it’s a key, so it can open things,” I said, imitating his mysterious tone.
“These are the keys to your salvation,” he said. “Did you know that the hermit and the hierophant are held prisoner by your principal, Christian Whitman,” he said, and then, “Whitman is the Emperor in the cursed deck.”
I was dumbfounded. I’m sure my jaw hung slack. Why Barkman spilled the beans on Whitman could only be explained by the magic I’d cast back at the service counter, just before he came into the bank.
I hoped that spell lasted a while. I’d started to notice that the more I organized and created a narrative with my OCD magic, the longer the spells lasted.
“The Emperor?” I asked, Barkman. “Are you sure? I thought Whitman was the hierophant.”
“Gottscha
lk, is the Empress--Whitman, the Emperor. William Tell doesn’t always get it right. William is still Cheshire and he gets confused when he stays too long in the wrong dimension.”
Too long in the wrong dimension!
“Your Mr. Whitman’s been in Maisie’s deck a long time. He’s been released a few times, so he knows his way around freedom. As soon as he made his escape this time, he got to work. He tricked a few of the less experienced majors. He locked up your hierophant and the hierophant’s friend, the hermit. Then Whitman stole the keys. Those keys give him power over every major in the deck including you.”
“Me?”
“Uh, huh. But this key,” and he held it up, “gives you power over him. It’s his. I don’t know how you got it, but don’t lose it. While you have it, he can’t do anything to you because you might retaliate.” He smiled slyly.
I was gob smacked. I’d lost my voice.
He laughed. “I like the Black and Blue tavern for a drink at the end of the day. Ever go there?” he asked.
“No.”
“I'll be there later,” he said. He didn’t seem to want to discuss the hierophant key anymore, but I needed to know more, much more. Then, from his pocket he pulled out a soft suede pouch, tied with a mysterious talisman made of a feather and few very sparkly beads. He untied it and dumped its contents out on a small table provided for customers. I took silent note of the small precious items that clattered out on the table: gold dice, fancy silver lighters and other small precious items...and a diamond sun burst pin. Instinctively, I reached for it.
“Oh, that’s pretty!”
Barkman grabbed my hand. He took me by surprise. His demeanor seemed so laid back before I touched the brooch. Tattoos ran up his arm and under the sleeve of his jacket. “Did those hurt?” I asked him, at the same time I dropped the brooch to the table.
“Everyone asks that,” he said, sounding annoyed.