Chapter Forty-Nine – King of Cups

I knew that I had given almost all my heart to Francis.

Some of it remained to love others in my life, but he held so much of me in his hands. Francis had taught me to love completely. I had never done this before and I struggled against it, but the longer we were together, the easier it was to love with my whole heart. We had been together for a few months now and in that time, Francis had helped me to rewrite what I thought love was.

We would talk late at night about what we wanted to do with our lives, the smoke from our cigarettes entwining and dancing between us. In every fantasy, we were together. It was wonderful to have such comfort with someone else and be completely myself.  Francis encouraged me to be my complete self and not hide who I was from anyone. “You’re so easy to love, Jamieson. It would be easier if you let people in.”

I shook my head. “It’s easier this way,” I said. “The less people that see the true me, the less people that will hurt me.”

“I know you were hurt before.” He took my hand in his. I had told him about growing up in an abusive family and how I was always the one to try and keep the peace, so I got hurt the most. I told Francis almost all the things my father had done to me. There were things that I could not tell the man I loved the most. I was completely myself with Francis, but I could not tell him everything that had shaped me. I thought he would look at me with disgust if he knew everything.

“You don’t have to carry it with you,” he said gently. “You can let it go.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can. I don’t know how.”

“I can see the pain when I look into your eyes. You’re far too young to be carrying so much pain.”

“I don’t know what to do with it.” I told him. “It’s like it’s all entwined?” I motioned at my head and my heart. “Like the dark seeds that were planted in my head have bloomed dark flowers.” I held my hands upward on either side of my head.  “I’m sorry, that doesn’t make much sense.”

“It does,” he said. “You need to find a way to uproot the dark, Jamieson.”

That sounded ominous, like playing with shadows in the darkness where they could bite. I looked into his eyes at and for the first time in a long time, the sea that was always riling and turbulent within Francis’ eyes was still. The sea looked calm and still. He had been able to overcome the waves.

I wondered what kind of choice Francis had made for himself. I don’t know why that occurred to me, but it seemed like when I looked at him now, Francis seemed like he had been able to shuck off his own sadness. There had always been a light that shone brightly, but now when I looked into hie eyes, I could see the light of dusk as it hit the waves, carrying the glow into the night.

When we held each other that night, there was a deeper softness to his touch. I could hear the wind that still made the waves move within him. It took me a moment to realize that I could feel the wind within myself, that every time the breeze from the ocean that was inside Francis pushed the waves, I could feel the air enter me. I had never felt so alive, and I wanted to fly to where the wind wanted to take me. As I fell asleep beside Francis, I could hear the water and the air as they travelled over the water. I tried to hear what they were whispering to me, but the waves soon lulled me to sleep.

When sleep came, I let the wind take me.

Chapter Forty-Eight – Queen of Cups

There were always people at Lisa’s house.

One of Lisa’s friends was a woman named Darnelle. She had dark hair and a quick wit. She had been the one to introduce Paganism to Lisa and she seemed to resent Lisa for how little respect she showed the Magick. When she was in the house, I knew that I was in the presence of an elder and she made sure to let everyone know that.

“You can’t conduct a ceremony without calling the quarters,”

“Says who?”

“Says the way it’s always been done. You must respect tradition.” Darnelle would say.

“I want to make new traditions,” Lisa would respond.

They had this argument often and it got to the point where I could follow it like a tennis match. “But you have to respect the Gods,” Darnelle would respond.

“What do you think I’m trying to do? The whole ritual is to honour them.”

I didn’t understand the push and pull between them. To me, Magick and Paganism made a lot of things possible because it was so open. There was no right way to find your light. This is what all the people I knew in the community had taught me. They were all Pagan, but how each person had gotten to this point was different, just as their journeys were not the same.

I thought of my own journey that had brought me here and I knew that each step I had taken had been one of choice. Paganism existed in a place beyond choice. It simply was, shaped by a person’s ideals and what they believed. Their spirit told them what kind of things they needed. The fact that Darnelle always insisted that her way was the right way grated a little.

Yet she could be incredibly kind. She would stock Lisa’s fridge and cupboards without asking, showing up with bags of groceries. There were quite a few people living in Lisa’s apartment and all of us were on welfare. Money was thin, and the extra food was always a blessing.  She always had a spare cigarette for me, and I loved Darnelle despite her rigid stance on how the occult should be practiced.

I ended up going to see Darnelle on my own and would travel to her place to see her. My mother had walked away from me, so Darnelle became a kind of stand in for my mom. She had two children of her own and they were in and out of Darnelle’s house often. Even though Darnelle had a rigid sense of what was right and wrong in magic, she was keen to help me develop mine.

“I know you’re a warrior witch right now, but what path are you going to take when the need to fight is gone?” She motioned at me with a cigarette between two fingers. “Warrior magic is strong, but it can wear a person out. You don’t want to be guns blazing all the time.”

“I am strong.” I told her. I looked into her eyes, dark like a cave that invites you in but hides so many wonders not ever seen before.

 I took offense to the idea that she would find me weak. I wanted and needed to prove myself to her. Darnelle had this way of seeing what a person carried within them without them having to tell her anything. It was like she could see right into you and would judge you based on how strongly the rivers flowed within.

She lit another cigarette and looked at me through the smoke. “I never said you weren’t. But aren’t you tired of being strong all the fucking time? I told you that you can’t keep going at that rate, you’ll fucking burn out. Do you think I want that for you?”

I lit my own cigarette and took my time to respond. Darnelle demanded respect. You could speak your mind, but she demanded I take the time to respond and not lash out. She always wanted me to think of what I really wanted to say, what the heart of the matter was. “If I’m not a warrior, what am I?”

She shook her head. “No, you misunderstand me. You will always be a warrior, but practicing warrior Magick all the time will tap you out. Look at what it does to Lisa. She lets it be the excuse for her ignorance, uses it to be the reason for her rudeness.” Tapping her cigarette in the ashtray she left it there to smoke while she got up to put the kettle on. Taking out two earthenware mugs, she popped to orange pekoe bags into them and then came back for her cigarette. “No, you can’t be a warrior all the time. You’ve had to fight so much. You don’t have to be a warrior all the time.”

“I don’t know how to do anything else but fight.” I told her.

“Well, then maybe it’s time you look at magic that will help heal you instead of magic that will aid you for battle, hm?”

I watched as she put out her cigarette and went back to her kitchen to get the mugs of tea. I wondered about the idea of actually loving myself and letting myself heal from the scars that I carried not just on my skin, but also within me.

I added some milk and sugar to the tea, and we held up our mugs. “To healing,” Darnelle said.

When we clinked our mugs together, I imagined that I could hear the sound of bells over the whisper of the waves. I tried to listen to what the waves within me were saying and took a sip of my tea.

Chapter Forty-Seven – Princess of Cups

I still found myself at a kind of crossroads. I knew that there was a change of some sort coming and I didn’t know what to do.

I felt like I was so many parts of myself and still had to find a way to put myself back together. I had my life on before I ended up on the streets and the life after. I found it difficult to recognize where one part of me ended and where the other part began. When I looked within myself, I could see the sea and trace my path through the waters, but I wondered what I had given up getting here.

I found myself wandering back downtown and saw my street family just where they had always been. I saw Angel drawing on the pavement of the square and she looked up at me when my shadow fell across her drawing. Her face immediately broke into a wide smile and she leaped up to hug me. Her warmth helped pull me out of the water within.

“How are you?” She looked me up and down. “You look lost. Come and sit, write something to go with this piece.”

Pointing at her chalk drawing, I saw a woman that was looking out from behind a forest of trees, a winding river blocking her path forward. “It’s beautiful,” I said.

“Thanks, but your words would help make it shine a bit brighter.”

She handed me a piece of white chalk and I couldn’t resist the chance to write. Taking the chalk from her, I sat beside her drawing and looked at the woman. She seemed to be confronting the water in front of her. She didn’t look at it with hatred for blocking her path, but instead her stare showed awe.

“She’s looking to where the water goes,” Angel said. “Much like you did.”

I let out a laugh. “I didn’t follow a path of water though.”

Shaking her head, Angel gave me a smile. “You did though. You followed your own path to where you are now. We’re all made of water and stardust, so you were just following the path that was already within you.”

“I’m still homeless.” I told her. “I haven’t accomplished anything.”

She stopped drawing and laid a hand on my arm. Her touch pulled me away from myself and when I looked at her, I could see only warmth in her face. “Of course you have. You got out of here. You chose that for yourself the moment you walked away.”

“I walked away from you; from everyone I know.”

“Only because you were strong enough to choose a different path. You knew that you wanted more than this. You inspired me. I still come out here to do my work, but I got myself a small apartment. You can come by after we’re done and check it out. It’s really only two rooms and a bathroom, but it’s mine. You don’t know how much of a difference you make in other people’s lives, Jamieson. You’re just holding on to everything so tightly.”

She motioned at the chalk drawing of the woman standing in front of the river. “Do you think that woman will try to hold on to the water?”

“That’s impossible, no one can hold on to the water except when it’s frozen.”

“Right, so why are you trying to hold onto it?”

“I’m not trying to.”

“Aren’t you though? You just told me that you left behind everyone you knew. You didn’t, you carry us in here.” She touched my chest where my heart was beating. “You have to let the flow of your life take you where it needs to take you. You can’t lament what you’ve already lived.”

She did one final sweep of green with her chalk, giving life to the water that ran in front of the woman. “Be like this woman. You need to honour the flow of water and where it will take you. You didn’t leave anything behind, Jamieson. You’re only just beginning to discover who you are.”

I looked down at the drawing of the woman and I swore I could hear the water as it flowed in front of her. I could hear the words that she wanted to say, and I wrote them beside the drawing, letting the words flow from me, not holding anything back. After the poem was written, I sat back and reflected on what I had just written, all about the feel of the water as it moved past my skin, taking me on a journey that I was brave enough to take.

I realized that I had been trying to remain still when the water had been trying to pull me in a new direction. I had to embrace what the world had in store for me and rather than believe that this was all I would amount to, I had to let the water give me counsel.

I embraced Angel in a hug. “Thank you. How did you get so wise?”

“You should know as well as I do that any kind of creative drive, whether it be art or writing, helps you to see into other worlds. I spend a lot of my time in those other worlds and so do you. You just need to work on pulling yourself out so that you can engage with the life you’re leading.”

When I closed my eyes, I could feel the pull of the wind and could hear the sounds of water as it sluiced around me. I let the water pull me where it needed to and I made the decision to go with it willingly instead of fighting where it wanted me to go. Angel put her arms around me in a hug and we walked onward to her new apartment, the sound of water still loud in my ears.

Chapter Thirty-Five – The King of Wands

The List Serve fundraising party was in full swing when we arrived.

I was surprised by how many people were there. Almost all of them were Pagan, too. I couldn’t help but notice how openly they wore their spiritualities. I had always been taught that my spiritual beliefs, which ran contrary to Christianity, were something to be ashamed of. I had kept my love of tarot or anything that went against the word of God a secret. It felt like hiding a large part of who I was in the shadows, yet one more thing I had to hide in order to fit in.

Here, there was no judgement. There was only a feeling of joy, clear and present. The air in the room was filled with a subtle hum and the light was bright and clear. I knew that I was entering a room where the majority of people here believed in magic, and that brought me so much comfort and joy. I felt like I was entering a part of my life that I was always going to find, even though I didn’t know I was looking for it. The joy in that moment made the walls that I always kept up around myself dissolve. I was safe here. I was nervous entering a gathering where I didn’t know who the people were, but my spirit recognized them as friends. That had never happened before.

Lisa brought me around to the people she knew and that included most of the room. I could tell that these people genuinely loved her. I was worried the first time that Lisa brought me up to someone she knew and introduced me, but by the third group of people, that nervousness was gone. I knew that it would take me some time to remember everyone’s names, but I knew that each one of them were exactly who they were. The warmth they gave me was honest and true and I knew that I had never been hugged so many times in the space of half an hour.

We headed to the bar and I got myself a beer. Lisa put her arm around my waist and pulled me over to a man that was standing at the bar talking to someone else, a woman with curly auburn hair. She was smoking a cigarette, and I remember the smoke seeming to curl around the sound of her laughter. Lisa tapped on the man’s shoulder, he turned and I felt my world stop for a moment that seemed like forever and an instant of time all at once.

He had dark brown hir that fell to his shoulders. It was spiky and curly all at once. He had blue eyes that looked like the ocean and lips that were drawn out in a smile. I felt self-conscious and wanted to be seen and hide all at the same time. I walked closer to him and the woman he had been speaking to raised her eyebrows at me as if to see what I was made of, and then she gave me a welcoming smile free of malice.

“This is my friend Francis, you know the one that I was telling you about?” Lisa said.

“This is my roommate and friend Stacey,” Francis said.

“Who is going to make herself scarce. Nice to meet you, Jamieson. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you.” She hooked her arm through one of Lisa’s. “Come on, you can buy me a glass of wine.”

I watched Lisa and Stacey walk away and felt a moment of panic mixed with the heady thrill of knowing. This moment was right, I would be okay. I had to trust in spirit. I moved closer to Francis and felt warmth, smelled something soft. Francis smiled at me and I noticed one of his eyetooth was crooked.

“Lisa tells me that you’re quite the writer.”

I felt the blush of warmth inside me and hoped that it didn’t show on my cheeks. “I write a little.” I said.

“More than just a little, I’m told. She’s showed me one of your poems.”

I was aghast to have been so laid bare before this man that I hardly knew but wanted to know so much more of. I reminded myself not to lay myself completely bare in front of him, but I thought that he could see me anyways, the true me that only a few people in my life could see. Francis could see that and he was still smiling. “She shouldn’t have done that.” I said.

“Nonsense,” he said, pulling the paper from his pocket. “It told me so much about you. I’ve read it quite a few times.”

He unfolded the paper, and I could see that it had been folded and unfolded countless times. The folds were starting to wear the paper clean through. I touched my poem, marvelling at the fact that someone had actually read it that many times.

I watched as he folded the poem again and then placed it back in his pocket. I followed the motion of his arm and watched as his shoulders relaxed. Though he was dressed in dark colours, he gave off a light and a warmth that I could feel from where I stood. I just wanted to bask in that fire he gave out. His presence was beyond his body and I could feel him even though we weren’t touching.

I knew that Lisa meant for the two of to talk about being raped in our pasts, that she felt that it would offer some kind of healing. I just didn’t want to talk about any of that. I wanted to learn all I could about Francis. It seemed like he had the same idea.

“Lisa says that you were hurt, too. That you carry a lot of scars. I do, too. I’m sorry that anyone ever hurt you.” He reached out and gently took my right hand, rubbed the pad of his thumb across my knuckles. “We can talk about that later, but tonight I just want to get to know you. Would that be okay?”

I nodded and felt the warmth emanating from him increase. “That would be lovely,” I said and when the blush came, filling up my cheeks with colour, I didn’t do anything to hide my face.

Chapter Two – The High Priestess

Life took on a different shape for me.

I found it surprisingly easy to let go of the life I had lived and embrace the new one that stood out in front of me. No rules, no engagements, no expectations of me. The sheer amount of freedom was almost intoxicating.

Shades and I shared the same bed, but it turned out the only way that he would let himself act on his impulses with me was if he got drunk beforehand. I hadn’t known or wanted to see that about him. There was a lot that he had kept hidden from me, the biggest omission was that he was dating a woman.

Rainbow didn’t exude an array of different colours. Instead, she looked at everything with a very calm outlook. There were some in our group that thought she was arrogant. I recognized a little of myself in her and I knew that her attitude wasn’t arrogance. She was trying to protect herself. Rainbow had been drawn in by the flame that Shades put out, but she was being careful.

Despite Shades pressuring her for sex, she refused. She would look at him with a coy glance and give him a little smile as if she were laughing at him internally. When she refused him, he would turn to me. I wondered what Rainbow had seen, what she had dealt with to make her so able to observe the true heart of any matter that was placed before her and speak her mind about it.

Rainbow and I would sit outside waiting for Shades to come back with money, cigarettes or food. He took his ability to provide for us very seriously. Rainbow and I would smoke and look at the world around us, wondering if we ever fit within it.

“You deserve better,” she said to me once.

I shrugged. “I love him,” I told her, knowing that she was referring to Shades. I don’t know what made that love so vital to me, but there it was. It was the first time I had said the word.

Taking my right hand, she traced a finger around its knuckles. “I know it may seem like love, but I’m not sure that Shades is capable of it.” She let my hand go and pulled a cigarette out of the pack. “You deserve someone who loves you as much as you love them.”

“What about you?” I asked.

Now it was turn to shrug. “I know that I love myself,” she said, taking a drag off of a cigarette. “That seems to be enough.”

“Then what is he to you? How can you be with someone you don’t love?”

Rainbow gave me a genuine smile. “Haven’t you ever been with someone you don’t love?”

I thought back to the people I had been before I came out of the closet. I loved them, but not in the way they needed. I thought, too, of the men that I had been attracted to since coming out. They were all unattainable in some way. None of them got too close to me and I’m not sure if it was me keeping them away or their non-ability to have an actual relationship.

“I guess it’s enough for now.” I said.

Nodding, Rainbow blew out a plume of smoke and kissed my cheek. “Well, at least you know that I love you and that’s what really matters.”

I sat there in the warmth of the sunshine and wondered if this was enough. I took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it, drawing smoke into my lungs. I pictured the cloud of smoke becoming a wall of thorns, hiding who I had been and who I was going to be. All that mattered was who I was right now and I could tell my own story.