She's a regular at the pub, petite, older lady, 75 to be precise, always fashionably dressed and with an axe to grind at some environmental policy or politician, she's taken a shine to me and invited me over to get my cards read. This is a tough thing, given my schedule, but eventually I make the time and get it done, it's less about the cards than returning some of the patronage she's so generously bestowed upon me, it's a small community and so you have to spread the wealth, keep it local...
She lives with her husband, a nice house on the other side of the lake, big, filled to the brim with tasteful knick-knacks, ornaments, artwork, jewelry, at 75 she's still fashionable and beautiful and lively as all out. She shows me photos - of her in her thirties, in her forties - "Here - I had it all, a girlfriend that was 17 years younger, a...", and another reference to the Kootenay lifestyle in a turquoise belt, returned by another ex lover, it's funny this, you can tell, she's still beautiful, but there's a whole very interesting life behind it all that she only hints at then moves on.
I said she lives with her husband, but not so much, there's a couple of outbuildings she's had built and furnished, retreats, temples where she sleeps, reads, meditates, does her own thing, and we abandon the house for one of her sheds, chat, she explains the reading she's going to do, odd decks I'm not so familiar with, my own preference is for the Rider-Waite or Crowley Deck of Thoth, but she has other plans, this is a "Card" reading, not a "Tarot" reading, and she gets out a couple of decks I'm unfamiliar with and bids me to shuffle them, cut them, restack and pick a card. These are the "OH Cards" by Ely Raman, I have no idea of what they're about. Meanwhile I'm to be thinking of my question, out loud or to myself, while she chatters on. She's offered me a joint - "The Cadillac of Pot" she calls it, but I don't smoke and have a big list of things to get done, she - well, less so.
Shuffle, cut the cards, lay down the first large card I select on the table. The same is repeated with the smaller deck.
Finally - the one card reading (two - but they'll be combined) - the first card, flipped over - reads "GUILT". The second, smaller card has an image of a hand holding a mirror.
Now, this, I have to say, is a conspicuously bad reading. I mean, I don't know the cards at all, but I'm pretty sure this isn't one of those things where the "death" card just means transition, nope, this is pretty straighforward, I'm done for, I've had it, I might as well just confess, lead her to the bodies, dig the skeletons out of the closet...
She's laughing, she's convinced she has me, she's cackling with glee and rubbing her hands, "Very Telling....just look at that for a few minutes...", she's loving it, too much, she's not just the Procter Oracle she's now the judge and the jury and I'm done for, I've had it, you couldn't pair worse cards...
After a minute she notes my apparent confusion and indifference..."What was your question?...". And while I'd have preferred to keep it quiet, given the evidence there's no harm now in confessing...
"I was wondering where the diamonds are...."
- "What?"
"Well, I mean, I go prospecting on my days off and I was rather hoping to narrow my focus...I've a few possible locations but..."
- "Take me with you!!!" and then, seeing the look of horror on my face - "Forget I said that. Explain this to me..."
Conversation ensues, in which I explain that I most certainly am guilty, and of any number of offenses not credited me, this wasn't the question...
She thinks about it for a minute or two, then decides to extend my reading. 2 more cards.
This doesn't improve the situation any, although the last card sums things up pretty nicely...
She gets another deck, a Native American themed one, "The Sacred Path" and I do the one card reading from this...
AHA! This seems a little more relevant. Actually, it's not, not at all, but she begins to explain to me that Heyokah is a flute player that goes from town to town impregnating the local girls, and while it's not me it's a good story. But the "Cadillac of Pot" has addled her a bit, and she gets confused and digs through her book and corrects herself, nope, that's not Heyokah, that's another card, and in the end she just passes me the book to read for myself.
The company's fine, and she's a character for sure - would be a great date for a rave, but - well, as psychics go I'm not even slightly persuaded. Another Kootenay Shaman, and I'd love to set her up in a booth at Shambala...