The old woman walked into the bar trying to find the boy.
She knew she could always find him perched over the counter of a bar. The boy's mother tried to keep him away from places like this, but as he got older, it became difficult to control him. They often stopped near these middle-of-the-road joints during their many travels from town to town along the East Coast, and the boy would always find his way to a bar.
He would always head straight for the lonely bartenders too. They were his favorite choice of prey. Bartenders were usually very cranky and tired from their underpaid job, the long hours, and the harassment from scumbags that loitered in places like this, but the boy knew how to play his cards. He only needed to throw the right compliment, show that Cheshire cat smile of his, and the women turned putty in his hands, quick as a wink.
Tonight's bartender wasn't exactly pretty, but she was enough to keep his interest. The girl looked pleased with the attention she was receiving. It didn't come as a surprise, a young thing like him with the looks of a Rock Star was a real treat in a place like this.
The boy observed with a lazy gaze in the dimly lit room, while the bartender scurried back and forth at the other side of the counter, pretending that she hadn't noticed him.
He made a comment to catch her attention, exchanging witty banter back and forth, light laughs and flirting, his game of Cat-and-Mouse. The girl didn't know she had no chance to win this game. He was an expert in all cat games after all.
He leaned over the counter and his face was momentarily caught under the spotlight. The girl couldn't hide the admiration that flashed across her face. The boy sure was good-looking, the old woman had to admit that. With hair dark as a thick blotch of ink, sun-kissed skin, and a young body that promised to shape into an impressive sight as a grown man.
"What's wrong with your eyes?" The bartender asked while trying to hide how impressed she was with him.
"There's nothing wrong with my eyes, silly," he said in a syrupy voice. "I can see your pretty face just fine."
The bartender giggled as he shot her a flirty wink.
The old woman decided she had seen enough and called after him, as loud as she could, "Nikolai!"
The boy jumped, startled, and turned towards the bellowing voice.
"There you are, Nikolai! Always perched over a bar! Why are you not eating with the rest of the crew in the Diner, boy?" The old woman berated as she approached him at the counter.
The bartender excused herself when a customer called for a drink at the back of the bar, leaving them alone for the moment.
"It's Nicholas." The boy corrected the old lady in a clipped tone and a scolding glare. "I told you not to call me that anymore, Ivovla!" He hissed as soon as the bartender was out of earshot. "We've been in this country for how long now? My name is Nicholas here! Nicholas, not Nikolai."
Ivovla waved a dismissive hand at him and the dozen beads and metal bangles she had on her wrists clashed loudly with the movement.
"Pish, posh! You'll always be my Niko, silly boy."
He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply before he spoke again. "Look, I worked very hard to change my name and to get rid of that stupid accent, okay? It took me years to sound like this. The old name is buried with the accent, may them both rest in peace. I'm Nick now. I'd appreciate it if you could keep it updated from now on."
"There vas nothing wrong with the vay you used to talk. It vas cute," Ivovla said, accentuating her accent to prove her point, even though hers was already a very thick accent, to begin with.
He rolled his eyes and turned around to hunch over the counter again, his gaze dropping to the dark drink-stained wood beneath his hands. "It's like talking to a wall. A very old, deaf, stubborn wall…" He grumbled to himself.
"What are you even doing in here? Drinking? You know you ain't old enough to be drinking, boy. Have you eaten anything? You're like skin and bones. You should eat!" She pinched the side of his waist to show how skinny he was.
He wriggled away from her prying bony fingers and glared at her. "Oh God, not you too. Jeez, leave me alone. I eat. If it's up to you crazy old women, I would eat all day long and be as fat as Zamir. Stop with the food harassment already!"
"Fat. Pfft! Skin and bones, I'm telling ya." She muttered. "Listen, Nikola-" She saw the warning look he was giving and was quick to correct. "I mean, Nicholas."
The old woman knew when she was pushing the limits of his patience. "You know why I'm here. You've been stalling for as long as you could, but Mikaela won't hear another excuse coming from you. I must do your reading tonight. Come on, boy."
"Aw, no!" He protested like she knew he would. "I'm kind of busy right now, Aunt Ivovla! Can we please do this some other time?"
"Bah! Another time? It's always 'another time' with you!" She waved both hands in the air and her bracelets clashed loudly again. "And you're busy with what, pray tell? That hussy over there? That's not 'busy'. That's being a hormonal teenager, that is. Hormones can wait." She banged the deck of cards over the counter. "We must read your cards, now. Or do you want me to tell Mikaela that you refused?" She threatened, giving him her infamous Evil-Eye squint.
"Come on, Aunt Ivovla. You don't need to give me the Evil Eye." He huffed stubbornly but then he hesitated and risked a glance at her.
Big mistake. He knew he didn't stand a chance against Ivovla's eye squint.
"Okay. Fine. Let's do this." He finally conceded with a defeated sigh.
"Oh! Are those Tarot cards?" The bartender was back, sticking her curious nose where it didn't belong.
Nikolai's sour mood switched to flirtatious in a heartbeat. "Yeah, pumpkin. Do you like cards? I know all about card tricks." He boasted smugly and leered close to her. "I can show you a trick or two that will blow your mind."
"Tricks? Like, magic card tricks?" she replied daftly.
"Not what I had in mind here, but sure, I can do card tricks too."
"Really? You don't look like a magician." The girl teased with a side smile. "Magicians are nerds, aren't they? You look more like a Rock Star. I bet you're super rich too." The girl's eyes twinkled.
Ivovla snorted loudly at that. "He ain't a Rock Star, and he definitely ain't rich. Far from that. He's not that great of a magician either, to be quite honest with ya. Too lazy to commit to anything for too long, if you know what I mean…"
"All right. All right." Nikolai was quick to interrupt. "Nobody asked you, Ivovla, but thanks for sharing anyway." He stood from his seat and turned to the girl. "If you'll excuse us, pumpkin, I have something important to discuss with my aunt now. Ivovla, let's go to the table at the back and get this over with." He stalked ahead, leaving a disappointed bartender behind.
Ivovla quickly grabbed her cards from the counter and shuffled to the back of the room after him.
"You've ruined my chances with that girl, you know." He admonished as soon as she sat on the seat across from him.
"Well, and whose fault is that? Not mine, that's for sure. You always pick girls that are no good for ya, and then you blame it on bad luck. That bartender only wants you for your looks and your wallet. When are you going to find someone that is right for you and settle down, Nikolai?"
"Settle down? Are you kidding me?" He choked up a laugh. "I'm only eighteen. I've barely even started here. I'm nowhere near settling down, you crazy old woman! Hell, I may never do it. 'Not settling' is kind of a tradition for the men in our crew, if I'm not mistaken."
"So, that's the kind of life you intend to live?" She asked with a frown.
"Yep. That's the plan. What can I say, I'm a man of tradition." He quipped with a cheeky grin.
"Well, life doesn't stick to the plans we make. Remember that." She muttered as she put her cards at the center of the table. "You know the drill. Get on with it."
"You know, one day Mikaela will have to give up on these pointless card readings." He complained, grabbing the cards and shuffling them with the expertise of a trained professional. "She can't control my future. You of all people should know that."
"She's trying to control nothing, boy." Ivovla snapped. "She's trying to be prepared for what's coming, is all."
"There's nothing coming! How long have we been doing this? Every time it's the same old boring reading. It's always 'travels ahead' for me. Duh. We're an itinerant entertainment crew. That's what we do for a living! It's not exactly a top-secret breakthrough we're having in these readings, Ivovla."
"Stop with the sass, Nikolai. She's your mother. That's what mothers do, fuss over their children. It's her job, let her worry." Ivovla harrumphed. "And you have your condition. She has every reason to worry. You know that."
"Well, tell her this is the last time I'm doing this. That's it. No more readings for me after this one." He grunted, leaning back and crossing his arms, displaying a finality in the matter.
"That's your problem. You won't do it anymore, you tell her yourself. I'm just doing your readings out of respect for your mother and our many years of friendship. You want to antagonize your mother, it's on you. I have nothing to do with this fight of yours."
"Fine. I'll tell her." He grumbled, but there wasn't much determination or finality in his voice now. The boy was all talk, everybody knew that there were only a handful of people capable of fighting Mikaela, and her teenage son wasn't one of them.
"Now deal," Ivovla ordered.
He let out a long-suffering sigh, uncrossed his arms, and reached out, shuffling the cards a couple of times before he put them over the table. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated. He split the deck into two piles and spread a card trail on the table, left to right, then looked at the old woman.
"Now top and bottom. Here and there." She tapped the spots on the table for him to place the last cards. "Let's see what the future has in store for you."
She flipped through the first line of cards to see what images they'd show.
The Magician was always the first card in line for all of his readings. It never failed, every single time, that card was there. Tonight wasn't any different.
"Huh-hum. Huh-hum." Ivovla hummed while she looked at the next cards that followed the Magician. "Well, there's travel here for ya, my dear Bagatto."
"Surprise, surprise." He mocked with an emphasized eye roll.
"And I see ocean shores in your destination."
"It is our next stop, Aunt Ivovla. If the cards are going to keep stating the obvious, just ask Zamir to print our show's itinerary and get this over with!" He snapped, irritated.
She tapped at her chin while she observed the cards. The Wheel of Fortune was there too. It meant a change of tides was about to happen in the boy's life.
"Last year you skipped Summer Fair to be with your friends, yes?" She recalled.
"Yes. It was my summer break and I didn't want to spend it with work."
"But this summer you're not so upset about working, though." She smirked knowingly. "You seem eager about doing your debut magic show. It's your first time doing a show on your own. Nervous, lad?"
"No." He sniffed stubbornly. "I know how it's done. There's no reason to be nervous. I've got it covered."
"Yes, yes. Still… First time performing? All alone… by yourself… A lot could happen."
"Nice try, Aunt Ivovla. I see what you're trying to do. Everybody in the crew has already tried this. I know this must be very amusing, but you guys won't make me crack, okay? I'm not scared. And my show will be great. Are we done here?" he asked, crossed.
"Not quite. Hold on, lad, there's still a few cards to turn yet." She flipped through the next card in line and was proud at managing a straight face, even though inside she was heaving quite the audible gasp.
For someone with the same old boring reading, this one was turning out to be very intriguing, to say the least. She needed to consider this reading with care.
You always have to be careful when The Tower card shows up. When The Tower is up, it usually means old structures in your life will crumble to give space for new ones. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but destruction is destruction, and when everything in your life is crumbling and falling apart around you, it's hard to keep a positive mind about the new, better things that might come out of all the disaster.
As expected, The Death card was next in line, since The Tower means ruin and the end of something, it's only natural that Death showed up at its side. Nothing is literal for the cards though, and Death can be interpreted in many forms: it can be the end of a relationship, a drastic change of attitude, it can be in a broken trust, or even a dream that is no more… Both The Death and The Tower cards tend to show up side by side in readings, they were usually linked since their symbolism is intrinsically connected, no surprise there.
Ivovla watched the cards carefully. There was an unexpected turn of events, something to be destroyed, the end of something old, and the arrival of something new.
She knew that the trick of the trade was to look past the obvious and to know the correct way to see the cards and what they are trying to tell you. That's why she always said any dimwit can flip a card, but it takes a special teller to know how to read them correctly.
For instance, The Hanged Man card there, at the end of the line of cards, could mean something bad. If it's upside down, it's something that you brought onto yourself. It means you have caused your own misfortune. But if it's set right beside that other card…
"Huh."
"Huh, what?" he asked, annoyed.
"There's an incident here for you." She informed solemnly.
There was no doubt about it: The Hanged Man meant the boy was going to have a rocky road ahead of him, full of emotional turmoil.
"An incident?" He shifted on his seat, suddenly very interested in what the cards had to say about him. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked looking intently now at the older woman.
"It means an event or occurrence of something that is about to happen, will happen in your foreseen future."
He rolled his eyes. "I know what an incident means, Aunt Ivovla. I meant, what's going to happen?"
"Something. It says so right here, in this card. Look." She pointed to the card.
He pursed his lips and counted silently to ten before speaking again. "Does it say what is going to happen? Specifically speaking, I mean," he asked, trying to soften his tone and speed up her answer.
Young lads, always so hasty to know about 'specifics'…
"Oh, it's definitely something you ain't gonna like, lad. At least not at first. But then there's this other thing here…" she said, pointing to the other card at the top. "They're interconnected, you see. The incident and this young woman." She pointed to the second card on the top.
There it was, The Popess card, the High Priestess.
If Ivovla was giving a quick reading, she would say that the card was only saying that the person she was reading for had connections with the spiritual world. Which wasn't that far from the truth. It could also represent studies and knowledge and could be hinting at an arrival of a teacher or scholar in his life.
But if she was to give a good and deeper reading, The Popess card could also represent a lack of control, or emotional outbursts and difficulty to come to terms with yourself.
All in all, it seemed the right card for Nikolai, one way or another.
"Young woman? What are you talking about?" he asked eagerly, intrigued.
She smiled. "Well, she ain't no girly child and she ain't no old hag like meself. She's a young woman. Young like you. And a woman, like me."
He rubbed the side of his temples, clearly irritated. The cryptic reading was starting to get on his nerves, she could tell. She, on the other hand, was finding everything very amusing.
"Again, Ivovla, you don't need to explain the literal meaning of every word to me. I know what 'young' and 'woman' means, thanks. I'm asking what the cards are saying about this girl. Why is she showing up in my reading?"
"This is no regular girl we're speaking of. This is The Popess. This particular lady shall be very smart and educated." She elaborated a little more.
"That's wonderful." He sneered sarcastically. "I'll meet a frigging nerd then."
"That'd be certainly a breath of fresh air for ya." She taunted him.
"I can't bloody wait."
"This girl will be showing up in your future soon, and she'll be significant to the incident… Yep. That sounds 'bout right." She stated and turned over the last card at the bottom of the line of cards spread out on the table.
The Lovers. Gli Amanti.
Ivovla blinked at the card, sucked in her teeth, and then gathered all the cards in a big pile in one swift move.
"Well, there you have it. Reading's done." She tapped the deck of cards on the table twice to signal the official closing of the session.
"That was a fun read. Shame it was the last time we're doing this, eh, lad? Tell you what, since I'm feeling benevolent tonight, I'll tell Kaela myself you're done with the readings, all righty? Then you won't need to worry your pretty young head over it no more. Gotta go now. Crew is packing up to leave in a few minutes. Meet you up in the parking lot soon. Toodles!"
"W-what? Wait! No! What about the last card? You didn't say what the last card was about!" He flailed on his seat when he realized she was preparing to leave.
A 'nerd' or not, it had been a long time since the cards mentioned any significant woman in his life and he was curious as heck to find out more about this. He could try to pretend he wasn't surprised, but she knew all his tricks, he wasn't fooling the old Fortune Teller.
"You made a face there. I saw it! What does it mean?" He pressed on, trying to make his aunt spill the beans.
She was no easy-bean-spiller though.
"Hmm." She pondered for a moment. "Last one is a conundrum, boy."
"What?!"
She was proud to see that she managed to make his voice come out squeaky and two notches higher. When you make the tone in a man's voice go higher, it means you're doing your fortune-telling right. Yep, siree.
"A co-nun-drum." She made sure she enunciated properly so he would understand. "Means a logical postulation that evades resolution and involves an unexpected twist of affairs."
"I- I, you- I don't even… that doesn't make any sense!"
"Yep. Exactly! A conundrum. That's a pickle you've gotten yourself into all right, my lad." She smacked her dry lips for effect, shot him a quick wink, and stalked away from the table and out of the bar.
Her great-great-auntie used to tell her you don't give attitude to an old Teller and leave unscathed. Guess she was right on the money about that. She had to teach the boy this very important lesson now, so in the next reading he'll be a lesser pain in her buttocks, or so she hoped.
But the real reason she wasn't telling him about the last card was because what his future truly held was still unclear to her. The Lovers could turn sour or sweet, there was no telling which way they could go in the very end.
Cards can sometimes be as deceiving as fleeting shadows cast from candlelight, always moving and changing. There was no way to tell which way it would go…
The boy was going to have to wait and see.
And so was she.
...