Gypsy’s House – Tina
Alone in the Gypsy’s guestroom bath I look in the mirror at the welt on my forehead. It’s about the size of my thumb, and very red. God, I had pushed those memories about my sister so far down, and yet, the Gypsy had plucked them out from me immediately.
I moisten my hands and tap around my face, and catch the edgy expression in my eyes. An old sadness rises up inside me. Given air and brought into the light, after all these years my memories of those nights are going to take some getting used to.
I lean closer into the mirror and examine my lump. There’s nothing to be done to cover it up. If anyone asks I’ll think of something.
In some form or another – throughout my entire reading – Bette was either nuanced, which is hardly like her, or straight up as a woman bearing a sword, or in her case, a Bowie knife. She was everywhere, but in my area of work, and even there the chances were high she’d attempt to influence me with Jenny’s movie’s, so close to production on the horizon.
Then the Gypsy had turned over the last card.
I’d stared down at the circular ring of images that no longer appeared random to me. The symbolic part of my mind that holds their cipher had begun to understand.
”Hmm, this card complicates things.” The Gypsy taps as she’d studied it.
”What do you see?”
She hands me The Chariot card with the charging horses. ”When this appears, if you don’t make a decision fast, someone else makes it for you.”
”Who? Is this a warning about the movie I’m making?” I ask warily.
”No, this is someone close to your home. She may want to wait for you, but staying in stasis while you make up your mind puts her in opposition to her basic nature. She’s driven. Towards something or someone new. Her nature is restless – whether she likes it or not.”
”Oh, she likes it plenty.” And we share a laugh.
”Who’s she seeing romantically these days?”
This question I realize I have no answer for – at some point there will be someone.