“I’m not sure about this,” I say.
“Yeah…” Mark cocks his head. “Thanks, Violet, but—”
“Admit it,” Violet says. “You could both use a little clarity in your lives.”
And even though I have done enough soul-searching for the night, I know that I can’t let Violet down again, so I grab Mark’s hand and lead him over. Up close, the Tarot reader’s younger than I thought she’d be. Her blanket is soft under my legs and small enough that my knee touches Mark’s.
“I’m Kylie,” she says. “Have either of you had your cards read before?”
Mark and I shake our heads.
“A good way to begin is with a spread of three cards. The past, the present, the future. Which one of you wants to go first?”
“Him,” I say.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Violet says from behind us. Then, to Kylie, “Kate has a little problem with follow-through.”
Kylie nods as though she already knows. She takes my hands in hers and I can’t help but blush, and for the first time tonight I feel the cold of the evening, and wish I had brought a sweater or a jacket or at least a scarf, something to wrap around myself.
She lets me go and reaches for her cards but then stops.
She shifts to face Mark straight on and takes his hands. She inhales for longer than I knew was possible, and then exhales just as slowly.
“I’m going to do a joint reading,” she says.
I glance at Mark. He shrugs. I wait to hear why, but all she says is, “It feels right.”
She opens a gold box and pulls out her deck of cards.
“You shuffle,” she says to me. And then, to Mark, “You cut.”
He does. The fortune teller focuses.
“As I’m turning this first card, I already feel pain,” she says.
I would like to keep an open mind, but we are two tearstained teenagers. Three, if you count Violet. It doesn’t take intuition to see that.
She reveals a beautiful card: a naked, joyful woman floating in the sky, surrounded by a green wreath.
“Oh yeah,” she says. “Man. This card is the World.”
“I don’t get it,” Mark says. “It looks like good news.”
But the card, though beautiful, fills me with sadness.
“It’s upside down,” I say.
She nods.
“A reversed World,” she says. “No closure. Too much left unsaid and undone. You know, I’m feeling this card pulling me toward you, Kate.”
She looks at me.
“You’ve been holding yourself back.”
My throat tightens in hurt but then anger.
“Yeah, well, you were just told that I lack follow-through.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Okay,” I say. “So what am I supposed to do about it?”
She turns another card over. This time, a woman is blindfolded and tied up, with swords all around her.
“This is as clear as it gets,” she says. “You’re both hurting. You feel stuck.” She turns to Mark. “Your heart”—she holds her hand to her own—“is broken, and you don’t know how to move past it.”
Mark shoots me a skeptical glance and I have to agree. Heartbreak is an easy assumption to make about a teenage boy with straight teeth and nice clothing but a look of desperation.
“She is someone you’ve been close to for a long time,” she says. “I can tell by how deep the pain is.”
I’m confused, but then Mark’s smirk clarifies it: Kylie is just a woman in a costume, talking to a random boy about his love for a girl. She probably does this between semesters to make tuition money.
“Both of you, look closely,” she says. “This figure is bound and blindfolded. She appears trapped, but she isn’t.”
“She’s surrounded by swords,” Mark says. “It definitely seems like she’s trapped.”
“But look. The swords don’t go all the way around her, and only her arms are bound. If she would only trust herself to step forward, she would make it through. This card is a warning to you both. You can’t allow yourselves to be trapped by your pain.”
“Right,” I say. “If you find yourself in hell, keep walking. That seems to be the theme of the night.”
She says, “Could be. Or maybe, if you think you’re in hell, open your eyes. What you see may surprise you.”
She touches the last card, about to turn it over.
“This one will tell us about your future. Are you ready?”
We nod.
And she flips it over. Even though I don’t really believe in this, even though Kylie is just a pretty girl telling stories, playing a game with our lives, fear grips me.
On the card is a tower struck by lightning, raining fire into a black sky. Two men are diving out to escape the flames, plummeting to the rocky ground below. I was expecting a card about strength or peace, Kylie quoting everybody’s favorite words of encouragement: Yes, times are hard now, but you’ll find your way. Instead I’m face-to-face with disaster.
“Okay,” she says. “The Tower. This is a powerful card.”