It's a Carver fic. Yes, a Carver fic. And it involves fortune tellers and
tarot cards. Don't blame me, blame the chlorine sloshing around in my head
from two hours in the pool.
:-)
Arcana is the plural of arcanum, which is Latin for "profound secret", and refers to the major arcana, or high cards, of the tarot deck. Each of the chapters, except the first and last ones, is based on a card from the major arcana. You'll see what this all means as we go along.
Finally, my apologies to anybody who knows how to do a tarot card reading, because I'm afraid I don't... but I'd like to learn how.
***
Carver likes silent and empty rooms with fresh, clean air. He likes order and calm, coolness and serenity. He does not like bright colours; he does not like swarming crowds; he does not like blaring, booming drum beats that hurts his head.
The festival has engulfed the streets in a riot of noise and colour. The sun scorches the sidewalks as people jostle each other in their tank tops and shorts and sandals. The rich, flavourful scent of fresh meat and vegetables floats through the air as the warm, mellow bronze sound of a saxophone rings out. It's a golden summer evening and everyone has flocked to the streets, chattering and babbling and gossiping.
Carver trudges through the crowd, his forehead etched with deep creases. A frowning little line has settled between his knotted eyebrows. He shifts his briefcase from one hand to the other as he steps aside, to avoid an artist chalking an intricate swirl with dusty fingers on the ground.
The intersection light glows red; Carver curses quietly and rocks impatiently on his heels. He wants to get away from here, from all the commotion and chaos, and go home to his quiet, peaceful apartment.
"Tell your fortune?"
He doesn't think the woman sitting by the edge of the sidewalk is talking to him. She's got a deep blood-red scarf tied around her head and shining glass bracelets all about her slender wrists. He hears them tinkle and clink, and it grates on his nerves.
"You. Brown suit, glasses and briefcase. Tell your fortune?"
Why is she talking to him? "I don't think so."
"It'll take five minutes, no more, I promise." The bracelets jingle as she holds out her hand to him. "I'll even do it for free."
He can't help but be intrigued. "Now why would you want to do it for free?"
"Sit down and I'll tell you." The woman smiles, a impish quirky smile that pokes dimples in her round cheeks. Those long, white, smooth hands are shuffling a deck of cards, snapping and sliding and slipping them into a large stack.
And Carver doesn't know why, but he sits down on the offered chair. The woman flicks her wrist and six cards appear in front of him, all face down. The delicate, spiraling pattern on the backs of the cards fascinates Carver; he traces a finger along the edge of the twists and coiling curves.
"Turn each of them over, one at a time," the woman intones, lightly placing the rest of the cards to one side. "Start with this one--" and she touches the one farthest to the left with the tip of her finger.
***
Confused yet? It doesn't make much sense, I know, but wait for the next chapter--it'll all become clear (I hope!).
Read and review, please! :-)
Arcana is the plural of arcanum, which is Latin for "profound secret", and refers to the major arcana, or high cards, of the tarot deck. Each of the chapters, except the first and last ones, is based on a card from the major arcana. You'll see what this all means as we go along.
Finally, my apologies to anybody who knows how to do a tarot card reading, because I'm afraid I don't... but I'd like to learn how.
***
Carver likes silent and empty rooms with fresh, clean air. He likes order and calm, coolness and serenity. He does not like bright colours; he does not like swarming crowds; he does not like blaring, booming drum beats that hurts his head.
The festival has engulfed the streets in a riot of noise and colour. The sun scorches the sidewalks as people jostle each other in their tank tops and shorts and sandals. The rich, flavourful scent of fresh meat and vegetables floats through the air as the warm, mellow bronze sound of a saxophone rings out. It's a golden summer evening and everyone has flocked to the streets, chattering and babbling and gossiping.
Carver trudges through the crowd, his forehead etched with deep creases. A frowning little line has settled between his knotted eyebrows. He shifts his briefcase from one hand to the other as he steps aside, to avoid an artist chalking an intricate swirl with dusty fingers on the ground.
The intersection light glows red; Carver curses quietly and rocks impatiently on his heels. He wants to get away from here, from all the commotion and chaos, and go home to his quiet, peaceful apartment.
"Tell your fortune?"
He doesn't think the woman sitting by the edge of the sidewalk is talking to him. She's got a deep blood-red scarf tied around her head and shining glass bracelets all about her slender wrists. He hears them tinkle and clink, and it grates on his nerves.
"You. Brown suit, glasses and briefcase. Tell your fortune?"
Why is she talking to him? "I don't think so."
"It'll take five minutes, no more, I promise." The bracelets jingle as she holds out her hand to him. "I'll even do it for free."
He can't help but be intrigued. "Now why would you want to do it for free?"
"Sit down and I'll tell you." The woman smiles, a impish quirky smile that pokes dimples in her round cheeks. Those long, white, smooth hands are shuffling a deck of cards, snapping and sliding and slipping them into a large stack.
And Carver doesn't know why, but he sits down on the offered chair. The woman flicks her wrist and six cards appear in front of him, all face down. The delicate, spiraling pattern on the backs of the cards fascinates Carver; he traces a finger along the edge of the twists and coiling curves.
"Turn each of them over, one at a time," the woman intones, lightly placing the rest of the cards to one side. "Start with this one--" and she touches the one farthest to the left with the tip of her finger.
***
Confused yet? It doesn't make much sense, I know, but wait for the next chapter--it'll all become clear (I hope!).
Read and review, please! :-)