Tag: CliveBarrett

Chapter Fifty-Nine – Page of Swords

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

I lost myself to the night.

I could hear the fire and drumming behind me as I walked the pathways to my tent. The release at the fire had left me revitalized but also exhausted. I had been holding on to so much that it was a blessing to let go. At the same time, I wanted to fill the empty parts of me with something so that I didn’t feel so empty.

Strolling without any purpose, it was a while before I noticed the footsteps behind me. “Jamison, hold up.”

Turning, I saw that it was a man I had seen around the Pagan brunches named Soph. He had always been nice to me. He had shoulder length brown hair and kind brown eyes. As he made his way towards me, I saw that he had dressed for the fire. He was wearing a sarong with a belt fastened around his waist. From the belt came the sound of bells as he ran. The sarong was a rust-colour that took on the colour of the night and his flashlight as he made his way toward me. He had painted his upper body in sparkles. As he came closer to me, he slowed down and smiled at me, his teeth looking bright in the light from my flashlight.

“Jamieson, hi.”

“Hi Soph.”

“I saw you leave the fire. Want to go for a walk?”

“Sure,” I said. My walls were down and gone again and I was afraid of what that would mean for me. I was curious to know what Soph wanted from me; we had barely spoken a few words to each other. I don’t think he realized how much I said in that one word. I reminded myself that not everyone was there to hurt me unless I let them.

“Cool,” he said.

Reaching out he took my hand and I let him. It was the first time that I had let another man hold my hand or get that close to me since Francis. It felt good just to let someone get that close to me, especially since I now had little standing in the way between the two of us.

We let our flashlights light up the path in front of us. We could hear the sounds of water lapping against the rocks nearby and I could hear our breathing, the crickets in the plants that lines the path. The sound of my heartbeat got louder in my ears, and I wondered if Soph could hear it too. Every time I looked over at him, he smiled and I felt myself smiling back, despite my fear.

We stopped walking and Soph pointed up to the leaves of the trees. “See?” he said. “The moon is full. We always try to have the fire dancing at the same time as the full moon. That way people can really let go and if they fuck up and get stupid, they can just say that the moon made them do it.”

I laughed despite myself. The joke had caught me so unawares and it was so true. I had witnessed many people hooking up around the fire. “I wonder if they’ll remember.”

Soph let out a snort. “Maybe not…” He looked uncomfortable for a second before speaking again. “I want to remember this night. It must be the fire, but I can’t believe that I’m being brave enough to speak to you.”

It was my turn to feel uncomfortable. I scuffed my feet in the dirt. “What do you mean? You could have just talked to me anytime.”

“Yeah, but you’re so…you.” I looked at him with confusion, and he ran his hands through his hair and but his bottom lip. His eyes looked wide in the light from our flashlights. “That didn’t come out right.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“No, it’s not. I mean, crap. Let me start again.” Taking a deep breath, he took my free hand again and held onto it. “I’ve liked you for ages. Then you got with Francis and I should have spoken up or said something before now. And now you’re sad and I can’t stand it.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I listened to the water for a moment and the sound of our breathing. I could feel Soph’s heartbeat in his fingers and his heart was beating quickly. Mine matched his and I was able to listen to my heart beating in tandem with his.

The fact that he would feel this way about me floored me. I never considered that people I didn’t know very well had chosen to like me even though we hadn’t shared a conversation. “Thanks,” I told him. I meant to stop there, but my mind had other ideas. “But you don’t need to worry about me.”

He shook his head. “I’m always going to worry about the people I like.” He paused and took in a breath that looked to contain courage because he forged on despite his nervousness. “I like you, Jamieson.”

We shared a kiss under the moonlight. His lips were completely unlike Francis’. Soph’s lips were soft and welcoming, and we explored the depths of each other with our tongues. For a moment, I had a notion that I was being unfaithful to Francis.

Soph must have felt something in my lips or intuitively felt something because he pulled back from me slightly. “I just want to give you a different perspective on things. You need to remember that you are beautiful. I want to help you remember that.”

I almost shrunk back from him. It was in that moment I realized how much damage Francis had done and how much self-doubt that he had left me with. I had been making it myself, building the chains one link at a time. If I squinted my eyes and looked to the left and right of me, I could see the rows of chains the dirt path, snaking their way behind us.

“I’d like that,” I said. He must have head my heartbeat increase because he smiled at me and his teeth flashed in the darkness, the light from our flashlights lighting the way back to his tent. I took his hand and let him lead me to his tent.

He entered the tent before me and I followed. I turned to zip the tent and could see a flash of metal, the chains had fallen away. I zipped the tent closed and turned my mind to other things and the gentle hands of a man who only wanted to make me feel beautiful.  

Before

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

My brother gave me my first deck of tarot cards.

We hadn’t spoken a lot since he had been kicked out of home. Truthfully, we hadn’t spoken a lot before that either. There was a wedge between us, even then. Looking at us, you wouldn’t be able to see it, but we felt it. It was a physical presence in our lives. I’m not sure it we put it there to keep us safe, or if my parents placed it between us for our safety.

I was still living at home. My brother had been kicked out for stealing, or getting into a fight, or mouthing off. My brother was a rebel, and I don’t think he knew how much I looked up to him. He’s my older brother by fifteen minutes. I joke about how my order was fucked up and I ended up with him, as if having him in my life is some kind of mistake.

The truth that I’ve been coming to terms with lately is that I didn’t talk to my brother often enough in the end. We existed in two different worlds. We had our own language growing up, but now, we don’t even speak to each other. The irony isn’t lost on me.

I don’t know what he did to end up in the shelter, but at least he was staying somewhere this time. Normally, he just disappeared, and I didn’t hear from him. It felt like a piece of me was missing. He would come back eventually, he always did. It was those times that I was left on my own that I was most afraid. My brother had a way of looking at life that I admired. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to.

To me, it looked like my brother was free.

I know that this isn’t completely true. He was free spirited, but there were secrets he carried, too. We may have had an ocean of unspoken words that swam between us, but he had grown up in the same house I did. I went within and Robert would explode outwards, his actions and interests his way of escaping and speaking without words.

I remember phone call. My father and stepmother had been out. Robert knew when they would be at work. I remember his voice on the phone and it sounded like him, but calmer. Hearing his voice was like a breath of fresh air in the cloud filled world which I lived in. His voice parted the smoke and fog that surrounded me. If I remained in the fog, I wouldn’t be seen. Hearing Robert’s voice made me want to be seen again.

“Come on over and see me,” he said. I remember this part, but not how I found the shelter or if I looked up the address first. I don’t remember how I got there, but I do know that I went to find him. I remember the blue drawer, the darkness within the room punctuated by a single light.

I remember Robert gathering the tarot cards off the floor. I don’t even remember if this is true, or if he had the cards gathered in his hand. I remember seeing flashes of colour and the hieroglyphics that covered the card backs.

“Someone gave these to me,” he said. “I think they’re meant for you, Jamie.”

I remember taking the cards and the book that was falling apart. They had been loved, these cards, whether by him or someone else. I wasn’t sure how he had come by them, but I knew that I was more than intrigued. I didn’t have the words to describe what I was seeing yet. Those words would come eventually, but for now there were the pictures.

Robert had given me a copy of The Ancient Egyptian Tarot by Clive Barrett. Robert had been the one to find the first Ankh that I wore. I wore an ankh all the time as a teenager, and he knew how much I loved anything Egyptian. I remember flipping through the cards, wondering what kind of interactive book this was to come with a set of cards.

I remember taking the book out and reading it on the bus back home. I would take the cards out again when I was alone, but for now, I read what I learned was the guidebook and let Clive tell me a story. I thought what it must be like living in a shelter or on the streets. It seemed a tough way of living, but Robert was free in a way. 

I had no idea that a few years later, I would learn what that was like firsthand.