Two of Wands

In The Hospital—NIGHT

We are all sitting in the hospital waiting room discussing the horrible reality shows droning on the TV slung from the ceiling in the corner of the room. It’s better than discussing what’s going on in the ER.

“I suppose it’s not all terrible.” I make a point, “There is good and bad reality shows after all.”

The Sailor, jokes “You’re only defending the porn you have been downloading on your laptop.”

Everyone laughs.

“There is a difference between documentary style shows which depicting people in their real life and outrageous fabricated shows likes celebrity boxing,” I explain, “It’s like a show making Sailor Lou pretend to be a neurosurgeon.”

Everyone laughs.

“Go” I tell Lou, “Go tell the nurses you’re here to perform brain surgery.”

He does, and then comes back to say they won’t let him.

Everyone laughs.

Meanwhile, Sailor Lou has lost the book he was reading and I have to help him find it.

The book is a loss. Someone’s swiped it. The Sailor and I decide instead to head out to some picnic tables on the hospital campus to smoke.

There we find an old homeless man, showing off his different pens. A friend of Spike’s known as Gunny Bill. I have met him before and know that spring snakes shot out of the one, so as he passes them around, I do it gingerly and await the surprise. 

 

No snakes this time. But one is built like a long Slinky toy and Sailor Lou mimics masturbating with it. A snake, of sorts, after all.

“There he is!” Bill gasps “One of my friends!”

Ace of Cups

In The Mountains—DAY

The Sailor is floating down the creek on his back. He has jumped into the water at the springhead at lunch break to cool down. But he kicks up his feet and the current sweeps him out into the mountainside. I know he will eventually wind up in the canal in the Village, which is where we are regrouping the crew later, so I am not at all so worried for his safety. More so, I am worried that he should be doing something more proactive than floating on his back.

My survey transect is following along the creek as is, and so he is view most of the time as I inspect the creek bank. He is in the deeper, far side and calls to me to join him. At length, I think, “Fuck it. It’s hot, and I can see the bank well enough from the water.”

As soon as I get in and tip back, a large freshwater stingray slithers over me and I jump and sling it off. It goes towards the Sailor.

“Rays are just curious,” he says “And, besides, they just feel like a dog licking you. You just have to get used to it.”

“It’s not for me.” I call back. I try the shallower side. It’s only about six inches deep. It’s no good. To shallow to float. I climb out of the creek and tell the Sailor I will meet him back at the Village boat ramp. I quickly make my way back up to the road.

Four of Pentacles [Reversed]

The Market—EVENING

The Sailor is drunk and staggering, but I need a drink too so I have dragged him to the supermarket in the Volks on loan from the motor pool.

Now, we drive through the parking lot and Sailor Lou yells, “Turn! Turn!” and I swing the car into a parking space labeled Iris.

I shop around. I feel a bit sick and wonder what would be best.

“Nothing too alcoholy like whiskey,” I think, “Or a poor mixed drink or I and Sailor Lou will both be throwing up. Perhaps some ouzo?”

But it seems all the liquor is behind the counter so at length Lou and I get in line. Lou and I have picked up some toy cars in the supermarket, one as a gift for his nephew, the other for me. As we stand in line we notice that they are tagged at $30-50 dollars apiece. We are both shocked. Lou tells me to put them back.

“Don’t worry about cost. I’ll get them.” I say “Besides, what I am I spending my paycheck on other than booze these days.”

It now appeared that by some fortune we were now at the head of the line in the crowded store. When I attempt to flag the flustered manager he yells.

“$5.99!”

“No. I haven’t ordered yet. Can I have a fifth of—”

“$5.99!”

“No, you don’t understand.”

“Sorry.” Now the fat man throws down some money before me. “Your change: $12.25.”

I begin to protest his mistake but he is angry. “Just take it. It’s all there.”

“Well,” I decide, “If you insist.”

I scoop up the money to stuff it into my wallet; there is a quarter, a $10-bill and two $1,000-bills.

I am incredulous at the mistake but would just assume have a drink then the small fortune. I continue to wave my original $20 at him: “I’d also like a fifth of vodka!”

“Yea, yea.” Sweat pours from his gray head, “Sorry. I forgot.” He plunks down a new bottle of Dobra and waves me off.

Queen of Pentacles [Reversed]

A Village—DAY

We, the crew and I, that is, are going out on the weekend to help the environmental group with some habitat study. It is a chilly, cold day and we slump on the bus the company has provided.

Once there everyone files out and goes about their business. I find I haven’t been assigned a task. I hadn’t asked for one I suppose. I am used to leading the crew, after all, not assisting. And though, I am now a bit mad to be brought out there for no reason, I am glad to be left to my own devices. Because at heart, I am so damned depressed.

I go the Village green. Up and around a bend in the path I find a quiet picnic table to sit upon and write and smoke.

At the end of the day, I slump again in a bus seat and two girls press into the seat with me. I groan at the bother and turn and sit on the floor, squeezed in front of the seat. But my accosters turn out to be Iris and Mary. Iris says she is sorry about losing me and wants to make up for lost time.

I feel slowly less timid and growing happy, I feel conspicuous on the bus; it is a good feeling.

X. Wheel of Fortune.

A Flophouse—NIGHT

I am back in coat and hat, gliding through the Flophouse lobby, some of the homeless men are now playing Quarters and drinking boiler makers. Some Chinese cooks are also playing a videogame. I feel like college again.

As I pass the bums, I pull a quarter out of my pocket and smoothly bounce it into the grimy coffee mug being used as the “hoop.” The bums smile toothlessly and hand me a pint of rye, which I accept, take a stiff hit, and return.

Usually the loser drinks, I think. But, hey, who am I to argue?

The Chinese watch this camaraderie confused and laugh at the festivities.

“What’s with the drinking games?” One exclaims. “They’re all the same: you do or don’t do something so you have to take a drink.”

I smile and with a wave of my hand indicate the arcade games.

“True. It is all a game. Life. And what of your games? All these glorified, high tech versions of children’s games. You bat some electronic blip around and if you miss or don’t miss, what do you get? You get nothing.”

Two of Swords

A Farm—NIGHT

“You can see it, can you?” the Sailor asks and I nod.

I really couldn’t.

I really can’t see the invisible creatures that had been attacking people around the Farm complex, but the Sailor had decided that I had what it takes to help them kill them.

Besides, the way the Sailor now glances at an empty space between he and I, I know where the bastard approximately stands.

So I grab a wooden stake from Sailor Lou’s hand and lunge at the air fourish feet off the ground. There is a scream and a thud.

The veil is lifted. I can see them now.

The zombies or vampires or whatever they are are staggering around all over the courtyard. But I don’t care and defiantly walk through headed back inside. Back inside the farm house where I have a brandy and a roaring fire waiting for me in the study.

A vampire creature steps in my path.

“You should flee,” he tells me, “Or I’ll be forced to bite you.”

“I do not care,” I tell him, “I am miserable and besides having your super powers sounds cool.”

He gets close and whispers in my ear, “You’ll be miserable. And. You’ll live forever too!”

“Wait!” I re-decide as he bites me.

IX. The Hermit. [Reversed]

A Flophouse—MORNING

I am drilling holes into the plaster wall, then ramming red and white chaining pins through to make sure the holes are clear. I wish I could do the same with my stuffy head. I cannot think anymore. I just do what I am told.

Case in point. Iris has told me to drill these holes in my walls. I’ve been at it all night with my hammer and chisel. Likely much to the detriment of hotel, though that is their problem for not requiring a security deposit. Red and white Iris says she needs the holes in the wall to make what she calls an “an ear trumpet to the other side,” which will allow her to hear the voices of the spirits that infest this shabby room.

I look to her, lying on my cot, for approval. Red and white Iris, lying there in her panties, barley covered by a sweat-soaked sheet. Bloody mop of hair, freckles and sunburned highlights accenting the pale white body. 

Red and white Iris.

“Okay. I’ve done it. We’ve holes in every wall. Can you hear them now?”

“No, not on a Sunday morning, I can’t,” she smiles, “A lazy Sunday morning. Let’s fool around!” And with this she flings back the sheet to reveal the red and the white in its entirety. I drop my tools and lunge for her, pressing my erection against her to show that I take the offer seriously.