She had to shove Mac toward the table a few times before she went, glancing back at Rainy like she wasn’t sure. To make her feel better, Rainy sat in one of the armchairs facing the table and smiled at her. She ignored the looks Braithe and Tara were exchanging and focused solely on the table where Luc was laying out Mac’s cards.
The reading didn’t take more than ten minutes. When Mac stood up, she was beaming. They all turned to Rainy, and she shook her head.
“Come on!” Ursa urged, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the table. Rainy stopped short, yanking Ursa to a halt.
“I really don’t want to.”
Tara’s head swiveled around to catch Rainy’s eye. “Why not? It’s just for fun.”
Tick tick tick—Rainy felt the seconds prickle by with no solution. If she didn’t have her cards read, she’d look like the same sourpuss who hadn’t wanted to come in the first place. But if she just did it, they’d move on. Pressing her palms to her shorts to clear them of sweat, she walked cautiously over to the table where a dude of indeterminable age—wearing a fishing hat, of all things—sat beneath harsh lighting. There was nothing special or showy about him, which bothered her more than if he’d been in some ridiculous costume. Maybe he didn’t need to play the part because he was real.
She almost laughed at herself as she gripped the back of the chair and pulled it out so she could sit. Mr. Fishing Hat Dude had a soul patch. He didn’t smile at her when she sat down, tucking her ankles underneath the chair and sitting forward nervously. He laid the cards out without show, keeping his eyes down as he worked. She could feel the others watching from around the shop, and she tried not to think of Tara, who made her feel angry and embarrassed at the same time. What was he going to say to her? Had they brought her here to see how she would react? No, that was ridiculous—stupidly narcissistic. She pulled herself back to the sound of his voice. He read the cards, blinking slowly as he tapped each one, explaining what they were. What was his name again? She didn’t remember.
“You don’t like to be known. You hide.” He splayed his hands as he spoke, and Rainy wanted to scream for him to stop. Did they know she was dying inside? She refused to turn around to read their expressions, afraid of what she would see.
“You got the Four of Cups. So, in the tarot the suit of Cups talks about love. You love someone.” She nodded, for lack of anything better to do. Didn’t everyone?
“And that someone loves you back, but Four of Cups is the moment when your love temporarily pulls away from you. Make sense?”
“Not really...” Rainy said.
He turned over another card. “The High Priestess.” He glanced at her. “This card is about killer instinct. Do you get that?”
“I get it, thanks, dude.” Like, was this guy for real? Maybe it was part of his show. Settling back into her seat, she gave him a dramatic sigh. His lips twitched. Almost made you smile, she thought.
“You have those instincts, but they’re clouded right now. You can’t see things clearly.” He flipped another card before Rainy could respond.
“The Emperor,” he said. “Okay...that’s a strange follow for the High Priestess. So the Emperor is about power and authority. So, another power could be seeking to usurp yours.”
Rainy couldn’t help it: she glanced at Braithe, who was looking back at her. She looked away quickly, her skin warm with embarrassment. This was stupid. Why had she drunk so much, anyway—her head was foggy.
He flipped another card; Mr. Psychic Energy was really into this now, his eyes getting more intense.
“So, this card is also about keeping secrets.” He tapped it with his pointer finger. “If someone confides in you, keep that dirt on the down low. On the other hand, this card could also be a warning about bad vibes and someone else keeping secrets.”
It was funny how something could be a joke one minute and then start to sound creepily familiar the next. Rainy lost her smirk at the end of his last sentence. She was over it.
“You know...” Rainy’s chair screeched when she stood up. If the women hadn’t been looking before, they were now. “I’m not feeling so great. I think I’m going to head back to the hotel.” She put three twenties on the table in front of him, smiled and headed for the door.
“Rainy, wait!” She heard Mac call out to her, but she kept walking until she was out of the storefront and on the pavement outside. Mac clambered out after her in her colorful dress, hair damp from the weather.
She took a deep breath before she turned to talk to Mac.
“Just not my thing,” she said, folding her lips all the way in and looking over Mac’s shoulder.
“That’s fine.” Mac put an arm around her shoulders and walked with her, the two of them in sync. “It doesn’t need to be your thing. Let’s go back to the hotel and get in our pajamas.” Rainy felt overwhelmingly grateful as Mac steered her toward the street, where a cab was idling.
“What about the others?” She glanced over her shoulder to see Tara, Braithe and Ursa still in the shop.
“I’m texting them. They can take their time. I wanted out of there, too.”
Rainy nodded. The cab was on a break, so Mac called an Uber, which arrived in less than two minutes. She caught a glimpse of the shop and the three of them standing inside as they drove past. Braithe was sitting in the chair again. Rainy strained her neck to see, but then they were gone as the car made a turn.
The rest of the group was back in the room just past three, tossed on their beds in loose-limbed, sweaty heaps. Rainy heard someone throwing up sometime during the early hours. She covered her ears with the pillow and drifted back to sleep, her head wobbly like the yolk of an egg.
She woke up at eight a.m. to a missed-call notification. Swearing, she tried calling the number back, but was met with a weird dial tone. She was about to text Grant when a chime told her that she had a message. Lying on her back, Rainy pressed the phone to her ear, her heart beating furiously at the sound of Grant’s voice. He sounded upbeat, but she could hear the exhaustion there, too. Stephen would tell him to rally, she thought, smiling, and he would. He was funny when he was tired, saying everything that came to his mind. She grabbed on to the sound of his voice, listening as he told her that they’d arrived safely and the day had gone amazingly well. She edged her way upright against the headboard and snaked her arm to the nightstand for the bottle of water. Where was her aspirin? Grant’s message wound down with, “I’ll try to call if I get a few minutes after lunch.” She had no idea what time that meant. She held the phone against her ear long after the message ended, feeling stupidly needy. Love was exhausting. It felt like a sore muscle...or a healing wound.
15
Then
Isolation wasn’t enough of a punishment for Taured: a bed, a blanket, food...those were all comforts of the flesh. To cultivate the change he wanted in a person, he needed them humiliated and afraid.
Bob and Marshall—trailed by Sara’s mother, Ama—led her into the room with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. The room smelled of urine and bleach and looked as bleak and yellowed as an old toilet seat. In the center of the room was a metal stool bolted to the floor. She sat down because she knew she was supposed to. Bob got on his knees to strap her ankles to the chair, avoiding eye contact even as she tried to catch his eye.
“Bob. My mama?” she pleaded, but his only response was a grunt as he stood up, work done, prisoner shackled.
A minute later, they both left, leaving her with Ama. She was a serious woman, a woman of conviction and discipline, as Taured so often praised her. Ama did not smile or meet Summer’s eyes. All the warmth from their previous encounters, like when Summer had eaten breakfast with them in the cafeteria, was gone. Ama stripped her of the blanket, leaving her naked on the stool.
She wanted to beg for the blanket, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing it wouldn’t do any good.
“Ama...” she said before the woman could leave. Her back was to the door, but she craned her neck all the way around to see the woman. Ama had stopped, but hadn’t turned around.
“Has he been in to see my mother?”
How many seconds ticked by as she waited for Ama’s response?