Category: Memoir

Chapter Seventy – Eight of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

It felt odd to be working towards something again.

My brain kept trying to interject and tell me that what I was doing was not work, but my body was so happy to be active again, even if it was just so that I could sit and take money from men who wanted to watch strippers dance for them. As Rhonda had told me before, we all had to start somewhere.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering,” Lisa said. “We get free money every month. Why do you want to work?”

“I just want something to do,”

Lisa shook her head. “What could be better than sitting with me and reading?” She told me. “You be careful around Rhonda, I don’t trust her.”

I didn’t share with Lisa how Rhonda felt about her, nor did I tell her that I needed a break from her. I didn’t want to fight and that would be the only outcome. Trying to balance the relationships I had with people with trying to find balance withing myself was getting to be a lot of work. I was trying not to upset Lisa and at the same time, trying to establish something good for myself. I loved her, I just needed more for me.

Lisa let out a puff of smoke as I continued getting ready for work. “You just think you’re better than the rest of us, that’s all.” She waved her hand. “Not that I blame you. I mean, look at Francis, he thought he was than better than you and that’s why he dumped you.”

I chose not to respond to that comment. I knew that her words weren’t true and that Francis had loved me in his way. I slung my bag over my shoulder. I was wearing a pair of sparkly jean shorts that I had found at the mission and a white mesh tank top. I figured that I would get more tips as a door boy that way.

“Why do you dress like that?” Lisa asked. “I can see your nipples.”

I shrugged. “A lot of men there like looking at my nipples. I’ll be back later.”

She gave me a little wave, and I could not help viewing it as a dismissal. We had had words earlier about her smoking while pregnant. She was almost due. It would be any day now. She had been a little pissy with me afterwards. I knew that some friendships were a lot of work, but she was becoming even more work than usual.

“I read your latest story by the way. It wasn’t as good as your others. You can do better.”

I let out a sigh, grabbed my coat and left. I knew that she was being cruel because my view on her smoking while pregnant had hurt her, but trying to crush my spirit when I was really just beginning to find my own spirit was a low blow. I chose to walk out instead of confronting her. It was easier that way. She often found a way to be right, even when she was in the wrong.

On the walk to Frankies, I just reminded myself of the work that I had done to get to where I was. It wasn’t what I had thought I would end up doing with my life. I’d had plans as a kid in high school to teach drama and act on the stage or screen, becoming a playwright at the same time. I wasn’t living that dream, but I was living this one instead.

 I had come to realize that my road was only just beginning. I had gotten this far and there would be more work to do, but that would come in time. I knew that I was on the right path because I had chosen it for myself. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore.

When I arrived at Frankies, Jake was there to greet me when I entered. “One of the dancers was asking for you. He needs the crotch of his underwear checked before he goes on stage. Don’t want his dick showing before anyone has to pay. You don’t have to touch it, but let me know if can see his cock at all.” He said. “One of the drag queens, too. You’re in demand this evening.” He winked at me and I could feel my cheeks blush, the redness spreading across my face.

“It’s nice to be wanted,” I said. I made my way up the stairs to the second floor to find a drag queen waiting for me at my station. Mizti was fairly new at drag and she totally rocked it. We had bonded one night when she had come up to my floor trying to promote the drag show that was going on at the bottom level. We had become fast friends even though we only saw each other on the nights that I worked.

“Honey, does my makeup look okay?”

She was wearing a blond wig and had done her eyes all exaggerated. They made her look like she was a Japanese animation character, and she had done her lips to match, all big and red. She made a kissy face at me and I laughed.

“Your makeup looks wonderful, very saucy.” I said shyly. I adjusted her wig and gave her the go ahead. “I don’t know why you come to me for my opinion on makeup anyways.”

“Honey, you always tell it like it is. That’s a rare find and it can be so much work to speak and worry about hurting someone else’s feelings. You manage to speak your mind. You tell it like it is, AND you’re a gentleman doing it. Plus, Honey!” She motioned at my outfit and made a gesture at my face. I had applied smoky eye shadow in blues and greys. “You look amazing.”

I sat on my stool and counted out my float for the night. “You’re just saying that.”

She gave me a sour look. “No, I’m not. I mean look at you. The men will be tipping you well tonight, I mean look at those nipples! Look at your hips! I’d kill for hips like that.” She waved a hand with red talonlike nails. “I kid. I wouldn’t want to end up in prison; I’d look horrible in orange.” She let out a sigh and snapped her fingers in front of my face. I looked up from my float. “Good, you’re paying attention. I like when men do that. It’s easier to drop the mic if someone is listening.”

Letting out a chuckle, I put the money back in the till. “Okay, I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

“Good, that’s how I like it. Now listen here. Stop looking to other people for your own self worth.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do. You work so hard at holding yourself so rigidly in hopes that, when someone actually notices you, you act like it’s some kind of fucking miracle. Then you keep trying to be what others find attractive. That’s too much work honey. You need to love your body, it’s the only one you will ever have. You can’t wait for other people to love you. You need to love yourself; do you hear what I’m saying?”

I nodded because I did hear her. I knew that there were many different ways that I could see myself and she was right. I tried to be what everyone wanted instead of listening to what I wanted.

“I do, and I’ll try. I promise.”

“Better not be pie crust promise, honey. You are amazing and your whole life is ahead of you. How about we celebrate your newfound resolve by having a drink. I’ll get you a screwdriver. You like those right? They’ll go with my outfit at any rate.” She had dressed in a flowing yellow dress that hugged all of her curves and fell to the floor in a pool of sunlight. She walked away from my station, her high heels clicking on the floor.

A couple of guys came stood in front of me, holding out five-dollar bills so that they could enter to watch the dancers. One of them was wearing a shirt that said “Fellatio is not an opera.” I had no idea what that meant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. What’s fellatio?” I asked.

The man dropped a five in my till and another five in my tip jar. He got down on his knees and placed himself between my legs and ran his hands close to my crotch. I let out a laugh that surprised me. I was so nervous and yet, this sound of joy was able to leave my mouth. I was so thankful to this man. His blue eyes looked up at me with thirst, and he gave me a roguish smile.

“Have a good night, boys.” I told them. The music was loud and the air was warm and this man had given me a gift, and I had no words to tell him so.

He stood up, planted a small kiss on my cheek and went into the other room to enjoy the boys.

Chapter Sixty-Nine – Seven of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I began to go to Frankies with Rhonda a lot.

The place became a home away from Lisa’s. Time spent there discovering myself and who I was. I found myself in allowing myself to have some kind of pleasure, to dress as I wanted and to even feel attractive. Frankies provided me with time to see my life as I wanted it to be. It gave me space to think, to lose myself to the music of the dance floor Rhonda sometimes dancing nearby, or if I was lucky another man. It felt freeing to be away from Lisa. I tried not to think about that after what she had given me.

“Jamieson, that’s complete bullshit and you know it.” Rhonda said. We were outside of Frankies having a cigarette. The air was crisp with the scent of fall, and I knew that the leaves would start falling soon.

“It’s not,”

“It so is. You think that’s what you have been planting all this time? You have been wishing for a home, and you still feel guilty about hurting Lisa. You can’t do both. You need to think of yourself. You don’t do that enough.”

I shrugged. “I’ve always been told that thinking only of yourself is selfish.”

“Yeah, and who told you that?” She butted out her cigarette. “You’re fucking ex-boyfriends? Your family? I don’t see them here, do you?” She motioned around us. “Putting yourself first isn’t selfish, it’s self care.” At that moment, she looked at me and I could see the light shine brightly in her eyes. “I have an idea, come with me.”

“I’m not my cigarette yet.” I was being stubborn and I knew it. I took one last drag from the butt end and let the smoke out and dropped it to the pavement. I stepped on it with my high heeled boots. I was wearing a poet’s blouse in a light pink colour and a lose flowing broom skirt. It had once been black, but it had faded to a lovely shade of heather grey. I wore my black Doc Martin’s and thigh length black and white socks.

“Are you fucking done? We have places to go, come on.”

She took hold of my hand and headed downstairs towards the dance floor. I let her drag me with her and thought she was going to take us to the floor, but she took me to the darkness of the shadows towards a door that I hadn’t noticed before. It was under an exit sign, and I thought she was taking us to the back alley, but when she opened the door, I could see a hallway of black walls and a stone floor. It was lit by soft white light, and I had a moment of worry fill me.

Rhonda must have felt my hesitation and squeezed my hand. “It’s okay, we’re almost there.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. I wondered where this would lead me and what seeds I was planting by going in this direction. Did I want whatever I would find at the end of this hallway? My boots clacked on the stone, and I pretended that it was music, joining with the beat that I could hear from the dance floor and I let the beat push me forward to whatever awaited me.

Stopping in front of a door that I hadn’t noticed before, she knocked on it and opened the door before anyone could answer. “Hey Mike, what’s up?”

An older man with a strong jaw and brilliant grey eyes stood from behind a desk. He held out his arms to Rhonda and wrapped her in a big hug. “What’s shaking hot stuff?”

“Not a heck of a lot for me, but I have a solution for you.”

“And what solution is that?” He sounded interested. Mike was not humouring her. Clearly, they had a good relationship and had known each other for a long time. He looked at her as if she were not four feet nothing, but a woman who had proven her worth to him.

“You need an everyday boy, and I’ve found one for you.”

His eyebrows raised and his eyes looked even brighter. “Him?” he motioned at me.

“Yeah, him. This is Jamieson.”

“You trust him?” He asked her.

“With my life.”

Then he looked at me. He gave me an up and down look so that he could take me all in. I had the feeling that I was being assessed, not judged. I held his gaze for as long as he stared at me and then he nodded as if he had made up his mind.

“Jamieson, my name is Mike. Me and my partner run this place. We need a guy to be the doorboy for the dancers. Maybe some nights, we need help cleaning the bar, especially the champagne rooms. Washing floors and the like. That sound okay to you? We’ll pay you under the table, twenty-five bucks to do the door for a few hours plus tips. Probably the same for cleaning.  Does that sound okay?”

I had never thought about getting any kind of job. I knew that I wanted to do something more than sitting around reading and eating bread with peanut butter. Magic and Pagan gatherings didn’t take up a lot of my time. I spent all my time with Lisa, and this job would give me something to do and somewhere to go that wasn’t her place.

“Of course,” I said. “Yes, it does. I’d like that.”

“We only have one rule that you have to follow. Ready for it?”

“Sure,”

“Have fun. Life is too short. Okay?”

I nodded and I shook the hand he held out. “Okay.”

“Good, I’m glad. Can you start this Thursday? Dancers are Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.”

That was in a couple of days. “That sounds awesome!” I told him.

“I like that enthusiasm. You’ll fit in fine here.”

As we were leaving the bar, Rhonda took my hand. “There you go, honey. You’re all set. Now we just have to find you a new place to live. Don’t worry, though. I have ideas.”

We walked onward and I let go of her hand briefly so that I could light a cigarette. I took her hand again with my free one. “Why would you do that for me?” My words came out in puffs of smoke, and I was reminded momentarily of the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland. I tried to see if the words I wanted to say would come out in smoke. I watched as the smoke from my mouth fell to the ground to grace the pavement

She gave me an incredulous look. “Really? Don’t you get it? I’m trying to plan for your future. You’re not going to be on welfare forever you know, not like her. She may have decided that this is it for her, but I know that you’re capable of so much more.” We stopped walking so that she could light her own cigarette. “I have dreams and I want more than this. Don’t you? I want you to realize that it’s not wrong to dream. And you already know how I feel about how she treats you.”

She was angry and though I was used to her temper, I had never seen Rhonda like this. Tears appeared in her eyes, but they remained unshed. Her walls were down and she stood bare in front of me. This was the part of her that was planted beneath that tough bitch exterior, and I was honoured that she was showing herself to me like this.

 She blinked a few times and took a few deep breaths so that her mascara would be saved. “I mean, you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you’re so fucking nice. It pisses me off to see how she treats you, like you are forever the protégé, never the master, but you’re ten times the person she is, and you can’t see it.”

Butting out her cigarette, she took my shoulders in her hands. “I’m trying to do something for your future, Jamieson. You deserve so much more out of life than being someone else’s fucking lapdog. You’re capable of greatness and you can’t see it yet, but I can.”

“And working in a bar will lead me there?” I gave her a soft smile. I couldn’t describe what it was like to have someone believe in me this much.

She took my hand again and we were walking again. “It will get you out of her house and into the world again. You can’t hide forever. Sometimes, you have to step out of the nest and fly, honey.”

I looked down at my arms and wondered if I was capable of growing wings. I wondered what colour they would be. The wind picked up and I could hear the sound of music and the noises of traffic. The wind made the leaves around me rustle and I added the whisper of leaves to the music that I heard around me. I could hear my breath as I let smoke leave my lips and the beat of my heartbeat and the click of my footsteps and I wondered what was possible.

Chapter Sixty-Eight – Six of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

“I can’t believe you’re having me wear this to a bar.” I told Rhonda.

She stopped and looked back at me. I felt odd but oddly free wearing the black skirt and sparkly top. It was a beautiful skirt. It hugged my legs and went from my knees to my waist. There were buttons that ran the whole length of it and they were covered in velvet. I had never work anything so fancy in such a long time. The green crop top left my belly uncovered, but the sparkles made up for that. Rhonda had given me a pair of fishnets that had been the wrong size and I put everything together with my black Doc Martins that I had gotten at Rock Junction. The whole outfit really worked, and I was surprised how comfortable I felt.

“It’s what’s going to get you in without paying a cover. It’s fetish night at Frankies on Frank. If you go in with a fetish, you don’t pay a cover.”

“What’s my fetish?”

“Jamieson, cross dressing is a fetish, but it’s also very now. You look good, not every man can pull it off, but you got hips and curves. You gotta show those off. And look at your fucking legs! Why have you kept those covered up? You’re gorgeous and you’re covering your whole body. You don’t need to hide yourself because others were ashamed of you. You wore a fucking sarong to Kaleidoscope, what’s the difference?”

“We were isolated there.” I told her frankly. That was part of the truth. I was more vulnerable because of the shape of the skirt. There was nowhere to hide within it. It felt too open in downtown Ottawa. I was exposed here. I felt like I was in the open sea with the way that the wind brushed past me, and I could feel every perceived eye upon me. Part of me wanted to hide behind Rhonda, but there was a bigger part of me that was excited. I was thrilled at being brave enough or foolish enough to doing this. I loved the brashness of it and how alive I felt. My whole body felt at home within these clothes, and I was terrified and thrilled at the same time. I didn’t know what to do.

Rhonda could sense my discomfort. Putting a hand on my arm, she gave me a stern look and a grin. “You’ve got this, honey. Besides, going in with a fetish saves you five bucks and that can be used for a beer.”

I let out a laugh. “Well, then what’s your fetish?”

She made a motion with her right hand to encompass all of her form. “Honey, I am the fetish. This is my home. I’m among my kind here. Every Thursday night is fetish night. I am seen here and you will be, too.”

We approached Frankies and I was surprised to see that it was an old three-story house that had been made into a bar. “Bottom level is the dance floor; middle floor is the bar where everyone cruises for what they need and the third floor is where the strippers are, there’s always a cover for that floor, too. The place you want to be is the attic. That’s where we’re going tonight.”

I could hear music coming from inside the place and my spirit wanted to lose itself to the rhythm. The thought of a bar frightened me though, despite the call of the music. Gay bars had never been kind to me. I had learned to build walls around myself in places like this and now I was going to enter this place dressed in women’s clothes.

Stopping to look up at the house, the beat of the beat of the music pulling me closer despite my need to protect myself. Rhonda lit a smoke and took a few puffs before passing it to me. “Here, honey. It’s going to be okay. Just embrace the part of yourself that danced in front of the fire at Kaleidoscope. You’ve got the goods, now show ‘em off.” She took the smoke from me and took a few more puffs before butting it out. “Come on.”

We entered the doors and I felt the full pull of the music wrap its arms around my body. I could feel the music, and it felt like I had been immersed in water. The bar was softly lit and we were met by one of the bar tenders when we entered. “You’re not here alone tonight, Rhonda?” He was tall and thin and had brown hair that came down to his shoulders. He had deep brown eyes and stubble on his jaw. “Who’s the skirt?” He gave me what I hoped was an appreciative glance and a wink.

“This here is Jamieson. You be nice to him Jake. He’s new.”

Jake was standing by the door. I could see men and women mingling, drinks in their hands. The music that I’d heard from outside was louder in here and though it wouldn’t have the base of the dance floor, the music here moved me warmed me. The bar gave off this feeling of warmth and welcome. People were having fun here and the air of the place seemed celebratory. The sound of music and the voices of others pulled me in and I could feel myself moving away from where I was toward something I could not see.

It had been so long since I’d been to a bar and the whole thing seemed part otherworldly and part mysterious. There was an elated feel to the air that combined with the music that I could hear and the beat that I could feel in the floor from the dance floor down below.

“You here for fetish night?”

“Aren’t I always?” She gave him a wink. “That’s where the getting is good, you know that.”

She went up the stairs in front of me and I followed. I heard a whistle behind me, and I turned to see Jake giving looking at me up and down. “Nice legs,” he said.

I smiled awkwardly. Jake was cute. He had long brown hair worn in a shag cut that hung to his shoulders and he wore his green t-shit and jeans really well.  I could see the lustre and shine from his hair and his dark eyes more clearly from my higher advantage point. I felt cheeky and gave him a wink and made sure to add an extra wiggle in my butt as I was going up the stairs.

The wooden steps creaked as I made my way up the stairs behind Rhonda, the banister smooth underneath my touch from the thousands of others before me that made the same climb. We arrived on the floor where the strippers danced, and the music was stronger here. The air was filled with the scent of need and desire. A kind of musk filled the air. I had a fleeting sight of a drag queen in a red wig, a half naked man walking after her to what I presumed was the dance floor.

Rhonda noticed me looking. “They have the whole thing here. The dancers perform and if you want to, you can have a private dance in the champagne room.”

“You ever go?”

“No, I don’t like champagne,” she said giving me a wink. “The bubbles make me burp. Plus, I don’t need to pay to see a boy bump and grind. But we’re going one floor up. Mind your step, the stairs are a little slimmer here.”

She was right. I made my way carefully up the small flight of stairs and wondered what awaited me. There was less light up here and I could hear the melody of people’s voices grow louder as we made our way further upward. The stairs went around a corner only to open up into the attic. There was a bar to the left of the room and a bartender talking to one of the other patrons, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. In one of the corners of the room, there was a wooden cross set up like an X. There was a gentleman dressed in leather pants whose wrists and ankles were being gently placed into leather braces. The man placing him on the wooden X made sure that he was secure, kissed him and then gently began to whip him. Rather than causing the man on the X pain, the whipping seemed to be bringing him no end of joy.

I looked away wanting to give them both privacy and when I turned my head, I saw a woman with red hair who was topless. She was letting another woman gently apply clamps to her nipples and the whole act seemed to be not one of dominance, but one of love. I wasn’t used to seeing two acts that I would associate with pain, but the people that were being whipped and clamped were experiencing pain.

“There are all kind of ways to deal with pain, Jamieson. Sometimes, you need to find an outlet for it, a way to release the pain you’re carrying.”  Walking up to the bar, she motioned for two beers and handed one to me. “Maybe this will give you the release you need. Maybe it won’t, but I wanted you to see your options.”

I looked at the attic room filled with people who were unashamed of who they were and what turned them on. I didn’t know if I was ready to experience any of this, but it was comforting to know that I could be completely myself here, too, as much as I was in the Pagan community. It felt like Rhonda had shown me another side of myself, one that I had been ashamed of for so long, but she was showing me a way out of that shame.

“It’s okay to be wounded,” Rhonda said softly. “It’s how you learn. Sometimes, you have to move away from what is trying to hold you back. I’m not saying break ties but put up the boundaries you need so that you can do what you want.”

I knew that she was talking about a great many things at once, we had talked about everything after all. She knew that my finding a way forward mattered to me and she knew that not having a home of my own was a growing concern. She knew of my need to be out on my own despite the guilt I felt at wanting to leave Lisa’s place.

What she was telling me was that it was okay to move on. There would be pain, of course there would be, but I would be better for it.  “Thank you,” I told her.

“You’re welcome, now watch my beer. I’m getting some.” I watched as Rhonda sashayed up to the wooden X and allowed herself to be strapped into the leather cuffs.

Chapter Sixty-Seven – Five of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I had been spending a lot of time with a friend I had met a few weeks ago. I’d needed to get a break from Lisa as I thought about how to go about finding my way forward. It’s something I’ve never been very good at. When I make a decision, it’s time to move regardless of timing or circumstance.

When I met Rhonda, I knew right away that she was a spitfire and a flame. She didn’t take, but she burned so brightly. She lived life to her own drum and didn’t give two shits about what people thought about her. She carried her four feet nine-inch frame with grace and wasn’t afraid to sashay, when need be, on five-inch heels that she should actually walk in. I had tried once and fallen on my face.

Rhonda was part of the Pagan community. She had come to one of the Pagan brunches and made a beeline right for me. “You gotta play with the gays, honey,” she said, bumping my butt with hers.

She was a solitary witch and knew all about Lisa. Rhonda lived down the street from Lisa, and I would often see her as I walked around the neighbourhood. Lisa would pretend like she wasn’t there.

I would watch the two of them interacting at Pagan brunches and saw no love there between them though they hugged like everyone else did. I watched as they kept their bodies from touching each other when they embraced. The dislike was mutual and very apparent to everyone around them.

I had asked Lisa about the animosity that I saw between them and her eyes narrowed in dislike. “Stay away from her,” she said, pointing at me with her cigarette, the red cherry at the end of like a flaming period. I actually stepped back from her; I had never felt such a wave of dislike. “You don’t want to have anything to do with her, understand?”

Nodding, I bristled inwardly. I didn’t like anyone dictating to me what to feel. It wasn’t that I disliked it when someone offered genuine help or guidance, but I took offense at the directness of her telling me what to do. I did the only thing that felt right to me: I went to see Rhonda.

I had never walked away from Lisa, it felt like I was starting a new path for myself and I didn’t know what I was doing, but I knew what I wanted to do. Rhonda was waiting for me when I arrived at her building and went into the foyer. It was an old house that had been converted into apartments, just like Lisa’s house. I heard a door open above me and then Rhonda’s voice. “Come on up honey, the tea is steeping.”

I went up the stairs to the third floor and she was there, holding out her arms for an embrace and an air kiss. “Come on in. You’ve got something on your mind; I can see it, you know?”

I followed her inside and for a moment, it felt like I was making a deal with the darkness by venturing inside of her home. She was a complete opposite to Lisa who wore whatever she could get for free, so it was always a hodgepodge of styles and always spoke about embracing the light.  Rhonda was clothed in black leather, lace and fishnet stockings, make up and talked strongly about honouring the shadow as much as the light. It was fair to say that Rhonda fascinated me.

“Come, sit and be merry.” She passed me a cigarette and poured me a cup of tea. “Spill.”

I sat on her couch and my lap was immediately occupied by her fluffy grey cat Shadow. He purred up a storm and was head butting me for love and affection, so I gladly gave him some pets. I knew that pets could sense unease and upset and were known to be good healers. I pet Shadow’s fur and he purred louder when I gave him a scratch behind the ears.

“I think I need something different.”

“Of course you do. You’ve already thought a lot about it. I can tell you’re almost there. Let me here your thoughts.”

Rhonda was like this. I had watched her with others in the community. She helped others work through their shit, whether the other people wanted to or not. She could pull out a problem that the people she was trying to help weren’t even aware of. It was kind of creepy to a lot of other people how right Rhonda was, so she was often on her own. I didn’t feel that way about her and sought out her company.

It was why I had come to see her after all.

“I need a solution.”

“And what’s the problem?”

I shrugged. “I’m bored. I don’t want to sit around anymore. I need my own place and I want a bed. Am I being selfish?”

“Honey, no. You’ve been camping out on her floor for a long time now. I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. It’s not wrong to want a fucking bed. I mean, at least you had a bed at the shelter. They had nothing else to give you, but at least you had a fucking bed.”

I nodded and held onto those words. “I mean, she has given me a home when I didn’t have one.”

“Honey, you sleep on her fucking floor like a dog. That’s not a home. It’s not wrong to want a space of your own. You need room to grow and you’re not going to grow when you’re planted there.”

I wiped away the tears when they came. “It feels like I’m betraying her by wanting something more.”

“You only want what you deserve. And it’s good that you’re fucking bored. I’d be bored as fuck all if I sat around reading books, playing Mario Kart and smoking cigarette’s all day.”

She put a hand on mine. “I know that it’s hard. You have come to realize that you want more. It’s not that you’ve outgrown the friendship, but you have outgrown the living situation. You’ve been holding yourself so tightly, Jamieson. You have to let yourself go a bit.”

I let out a watery laugh. “I’ve been working on it, I really have.”

She patted my hand and took a sip of her tea. “I know you have. You have dealt with so much hardship in your life that you’re thankful for any amount of kindness, even if it’s no longer kind to yourself.”

Lighting a cigarette, she looked for a moment as if a lightbulb had gone off in her eyes. “And I think I know just the thing to help. What are you doing tonight?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Finishing my book, looking at the stars.”

Letting out a snort, she butted out her cigarette and got up. “Not with me, you’re not. Hold on a second.” She went to her bedroom and came back wearing a flowing black skirt and a green sparkly crop top.

“We’re going out.” She said.

Chapter Sixty-Five – Three of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

When I arrived at her home, Darnelle had all sort of things laid out on her dining room table. She poured me a mug of tea and laid out milk and sugar on the table. The cups looked funny among all the magical paraphernalia. I was immediately put at ease when I took my first sip. I saw Darnelle smile at me.

“Never underestimate the healing powers of tea. It reminds us to spare a few moments for ourselves, at least while the tea is hot. Tea helps us to stop, breathe and practice patience.”

“How does tea give us patience?” I asked her.

“Because young and old, we wait for that tea to cool slightly so that we can drink it. It’s kind of like magic. We’re afraid until we delve into the pool beyond our ankles, but then when the water is supporting our weight, we let go and wait for joy.”  She lit a cigarette. “Here, let’s do your Medicine cards and find out who your guides are.”

Pulling the deck towards her, she put down her cigarette in the ashtray and handed me the deck of cards. “You need to shuffle these until you feel like you are done, just like the Tarot cards you love.”

It felt odd to be holding a deck of cards without having a question to guide me. While I was shuffling, I thought to myself ‘Who is willing to guide me?’. It felt better to give the shuffling some direction. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind of nothing else but the question so that it would take up room in the dark. I could feel a card fly free from the deck. I opened my eyes and put the deck on the table.

Darnelle held up the card that flew out of the deck. “Looks like the Wolf if your guide.” She let out a bark of laughter as she set the card down in front of me. “Well, you already chose them.” I knew that she was referring to the fact that I had changed my name when I was eighteen so that I would no longer carry my fathers name as my middle name and family name. I had chosen the name Wolf as my middle name. I always had a fascination with them and the wisdom that they carried. I liked that they were part of a pack to survive but would go out alone if they needed to. I had a pack of people that I loved and could be the lone Wolf if I needed to be.

She lit another cigarette and took a sip of her tea. “Spread the deck around in front of you and slide your hand overtop of the pile. Stop when you feel a card pull you.”

I did so, familiar with this being a way to look for a Tarot card, too. I used my left hand. I was right-handed and I had learned that the dominant hand rids you of the energy that you don’t want and the non-dominant hand brings in the energy you do want. I ran my hands over the blue backs of the cards, the yellow lighting bolt design looking as if it would point me in the right direction.

Stopping when I felt a tingle in the palm of my hand, I plucked the single card from the pile and held it up. It was the Crow card. Darnelle smiled at me.

“That’s so profound. Did you know that the Crow is one of the only animal spirits that can go to the land of the dead and cross back over the border of the world of the living? They are harbingers of magic and they tell stories. When they speak, you need to listen. Much like you’re a writer and you have seen so many shadows in your life. The Crow will show you the right way for you.”

I took a sip of tea and looked at the Wolf and Crow cards. “Don’t thing come in threes?”

Nodding, Darnelle smiled. “Yes, but in this case, they are your guides and you have to work together to get to where you need to go. You have to work together, the three of you, to achieve your goals. They are with you to show you the way as best as they can, but you have to find the way yourself. Does that make sense? The three of you have to work in tandem to create what is possible.”

I nodded, because that made sense to me. It was nice to know that even though I was asking magic for help, I was still in control of my life. The Wolf and the Crow would help guide me, but I knew that I had a lot of work ahead of me. “Thank you,” I told her.

“Okay, now that we have your guides, we have to work on your resume.” She got up to pour some more hot water for our cups of tea and lit a cigarette. “You need to tell me about all your skills and the jobs you’ve done before your time on the streets, before you ended up at Lisa’s. Do you remember everything?” She handed me a pad of paper and a pen. “I’ll help you make a new resume. It’s something I’ve helped a lot of people within my line of work. We got this, okay?”

I looked at the blank page in front of me, and I knew that my guides, I knew that I would find my way to where I was supposed to go. The page in front of me was asking me to create the direction I wanted to go in. I was being asked to really focus on myself for once. I took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I said.