Tarot Cards and Death

Ashley Tjahjadi, The Hong Kong Polytechnic University

When the deck is stacked against you, extreme measures may be in order.  

 

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Tarot Cards and Death

By Ashley Tjahjadi

 

CHAPTER 1: RESURRECTION

Today’s daily tarot card forecast: The Fool, The Tower, and Strength.

I looked at the cards with mild concentration, shuffling the deck continuously until another one fell. The Five of Cups. It symbolises grief and pain and suggests that the person it was drawn for should move on with their life.

A sigh escaped my lips.

Ever since Mom died, this same card had always shown up in all my readings. Mom died two weeks ago. I killed her.

The police officer had been trying to tell me something that day, but all I was hearing was she died of her own recklessness.

But I knew better.

I knew because I was on the phone with her. I was there when the truck collided, when the tires screeched, and when Mom’s screaming bled through the phone. And I was there when the silence became deafening, and I could no longer hear my own frantic screams.

That was two weeks ago.

And tonight, I’ll be resurrecting Mom.

Jenna’s rusty blue truck shook as we drove across town from the graveyard to Eli’s house.

I’ve known Jenna for as long as I’ve known how to ride a bike. We’ve been as thick as thieves ever since she came up to me one day in the playground with a worm in her hand and made me feel it was okay to be unusual. During Mom’s funeral, she cried just as much as I did, or maybe more. I’ve always been more stoic than emotional, but Jenna made up for what I lacked.

This was why, tonight, she was nervously tapping a left finger against the steering wheel. Her being fidgety was understandable. We had just committed a crime, and she knows we will commit even more.

Jenna put her nerves to words: “Ophelia…you sure nobody saw us dig up your mom…her body, right?”

I shoved my tarot cards hastily into my bag before taking out my crystal ball. I shook it three times and whispered, “Wind back thrice to the sight of our crimes.” The ball showed Jenna in the graveyard that we had just left charming the shovels, which were diving and hovering as they did the heavy work to dig out Mom’s corpse.

I then tapped and dragged my finger across the crystal ball to see our sacred surroundings. No one else besides us were visible.

“We’re safe,” I said, giving Jenna a small, consoling smile.

She nodded but her eyes were distant with worry.

“So tell me about this deal you struck,” Jenna said, resting her finger. “Details and all.”

I sighed. “Eli from fairy anatomy class,” I began before pausing and then adding, “You don’t know him.”

“Right, so this… Eli,” she said, gesturing incredulously with her left hand. “He just agreed to commit a crime by resurrecting your mom, risking his entire career and life as a necromancer to help you… because he liked you in the eleventh grade?”

I stared at the dashboard. “Yeah, that’s basically it.”

Unconvinced, she pressed: “They could strip him of his necromancer title from the guild.”  

“I am well aware,” I said, biting my lip at the thought.

She laughed a little but stayed fixated on the logical hole between us: “I just don’t get it!” she exclaimed. “Why would he do that?”

I dug deeper into the facts: “Look. I just know I called him up a few days ago and he offered me this deal. I tried to give him money, but he said he’d rather get weekly card readings for a year.” I pressed my nails a little harder into my palms. “And if that’s what it takes to get Mom back, then I’ll do it,” I said, pausing. “Hell, I’d happily give him readings for life.”

Jenna eyed me closely as I spoke as if trying to peer into my mind.

Good luck with that. My head had been a mess ever since Mom died. Silence accompanied us for the rest of the drive.

The truck screeched to a stop in front of a house with dark blue paint and a two-car garage. Eli had texted me instructions to park directly in front of the garage door and knock on it. After we did, the door opened slowly to reveal a man wearing a black hoodie and black ripped jeans.

“Hi,” he said tightly, looking left and right. “We don’t have much time. Where’s the… uh, your mother’s remains?”

Jenna and I moved aside to show the body bag in the back of Jenna’s truck. Eli blinked and opened his mouth to say something but then appeared to think better of it before finally moving into action: “Right, let’s prep for the ritual. You guys can help drag that table there away from the wall and place the body…your mother on top.” He nodded to the side of the large space that looked more like a workshop than a simple garage.

I glanced at Jenna, who was already opening the bag and using her charms to transform Mom into looking presentable.

Eli quickly closed the garage door and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, uncovering the black necromancer tattoos on his hands and wrists. From another side table, he took out a bowl filled with what he said was goat’s blood and smeared it all over his nose and mouth. After finishing, he went into the house to wash his hands.

I took out my tarot cards and shuffled vigorously, which was my nervous habit.

A card fell and, surely, it was the Five of Cups.

Jenna retrieved the card from the concrete floor and put it back on my deck. “Relax,” she soothed.

I steeled myself. Took in a breath and exhaled slowly.

“Alright, let’s get this going,” Eli said, re-entering the garage with a large book in one hand.

I shoved my cards back into my bag and straightened my posture as if I was suddenly on trial. Eli stood next to Mom, flipping through the pages of his tome aggressively. He stopped at a dark-coloured page with silver writing and figures on it. His brows furrowed, eyes quickly scanning the information effortlessly.

With one hand, he held the book open and reached out with his other towards Mom. The tattoos on his arms came to vaporous life and swirled around his hands before extending like thick smoke tendrils towards his fingertips. He was mumbling. I could recognize bits and pieces of Latin, but it was too fast.

His book began to shine a silver light. Strands of my hair floated high with electricity charging through the air. The garage took on the scent of carcasses, flowers, and blood. I felt bile rise up and threaten to escape my tightening throat.

Then Mom’s eyes opened.

The comfortable honey-brown eyes I’ve always looked up to were staring back at me. I longed for this moment, but something seemed off. Her eyes were distant and off-putting.

Mom’s body started convulsing and jerking around on the table as she shook vigorously, hair floating around like seaweed. After a several seconds, she stilled. Her hair dropped, and her hands thudded on the table. The blackness of her eyes returned, staring up at the ceiling with no signs of life inside.

I looked at Eli for reassurance that his spell had worked. But he only blinked a few times in what appeared to be confusion. I held my breath for what seemed a lifetime as he reopened his book and then pointed a finger to a page as he read it over again.

“Oh,” he said. “There’s a problem.”

CHAPTER 2: Séance

I sat on the floor, head resting on my mom’s bed. My legs splayed and arms slumped on my sides. The ceiling had never looked more enticing.

My phone buzzed. I didn’t know where it was or who was calling, nor did I care. My mind had been going on a speed run for the past few hours, and I had very little energy to entertain any more thoughts. Regardless, I swiveled my head in search of my phone.

“We’re here,” the text message read.

I forced myself to stand up, make my way downstairs and open the front door.

“Hi, I brought the board,” Eli said. He held the Ouija board up. Jenna was beside him, giving me a lopsided smile.

I motioned for them to come in and led them up to Mom’s room. Everything was covered in white sheets except for the bed. I had slept in it last night after the failed resurrection attempt.

Eli laid the black and white Ouija board on the floor. He took four black candles from his bag and told me to arrange them on the four sides of the board. Jenna snapped her fingers and the candles lit up.

“A lighter for thoughts?” Jenna quipped with an unsure smile, a small flame floating above her pointer finger.

I sighed. “I just can’t stop thinking about how all of this is happening…and…and my part in it.”

“Meaning?” Eli enquired.

“Well,” I said. “If you think about it, what we’re doing is trying to stop death, but what I could not do…cannot do is stop for death.”

“Death is not the final mark in life,” Eli corrected gently.

Both Jenna and I looked at him quizzically.

“Oh, you don’t remember. Well, let’s look at what happened yesterday,” he said. “Ophelia’s Mom’s…body was like a beacon for the soul to navigate the dead realms. The only two explanations of why she wouldn’t come back are…” He raised a finger, “One, she doesn’t want to.” He raised another finger, “Two, she’s stuck somewhere in limbo.”

I deflated further. This was Eli’s initial theory yesterday, but hearing it again was just as devastating. I couldn’t imagine why Mom wouldn’t want to come back, and it’s even harder to imagine her being in danger in the dead realms.

“Look,” Eli continued, “I know the two possible theories aren’t ideal… but that’s exactly what this séance is for. To find out what blocked the spell last night.”

I looked up to see him smiling softly at me. Over the past few years, I’ve forgotten he was once the boy who drew flowers on pieces of paper and passed one to me every school day during fairy anatomy class. Moments like these reminded me of that little boy. I gave him a weak smile.

“Usually, we wait for the spirit to come, but I’ll speed up the process with a little necro-magic,” Eli said, winking at me.

I nodded.

He took out a book from his bag that I hadn’t seen before and flipped it open to a marked page. He began mumbling an incantation in hushed tones and one of the candles huffed out.

“What’s your name?” Eli asked.

The wooden heart-shaped planchette moved on the black and white board to identify four letters: K-A-T-E

“That’s her,” I said, swallowing down the lump forming in my throat.

“Are you in trouble?” Jenna asked, her eyebrows knitted together in worry.

The planchette moved to the word ‘no.’

“Why won’t you come back?” I croaked out, every syllable forced out of my dried throat.

The heart didn’t move. Another candle huffed out.

“I need you, Mom,” I said, quietly.

The planchette stayed firm on ‘no.’ I closed my eyes.

“Will I be able to see you again?” I asked.

The wooden heart moved to ‘yes.’ Another candle huffed out.

“Then will you come back?” I asked as a stray tear slid down my cheeks.

The planchette moved to ‘no.’

“What do you want?” I shouted.

E-L-I-K-N-O-W-S

The last candle dimmed and stopped burning. I turned to Eli, face full of tears. His wide eyes blinked and then dropped.

“I have an idea, but it’s riskier,” he said.

At this point, I’ll do anything to see Mom again. I nodded and wiped my face with my hands.

CHAPTER 3: Ghosts

The risk of summoning a spirit to the mortal realm, it turns out, is much more dangerous than resurrecting a person.

We all gathered in Eli’s garage again the next night. He was pouring a circle of salt around an inner circle of goat’s blood. Six lit black candles surrounded the ring of salt. I learned that the candles are timers for how long the spell lasts. Eli further told us to think of the inner circle as a portal to the dead realms. The salt circle is to prevent any souls from escaping since more ghosts – unwanted ones – could come at any time and escape through this portal to wander around our world wreaking havoc.

Eli muttered incantations for a solid ten minutes, before turning to us. He told us to be patient since the spirit he called out to needed time to navigate through different souls and find our summoning circle. Eli then excused himself to get some water.

I took out my tarot cards from my bag and started shuffling.

“Hey,” Jenna said, touching my shoulder as we sat together on the floor right in front of the candles. “She doesn’t blame you.”

“I know,” I said. She hugged me with one arm and rested her head on my shoulder. I kept shuffling my cards, staring straight at the circle.

Eli came back and sat next to me. My eyes were getting heavier and heavier the more I shuffled my cards. Before I knew it, my consciousness drifted away.

I didn’t know how long I had slept. I dreamed of something but couldn’t remember much except the image of blueness, a soft kind of azure shade. But I did know that I had awoken because of this image, and now was nearly face-to-face with my mother, who was radiating an intense blue light with flowing hair and a flowing dress…all floating before me.

I stood up, scattering my tarot cards that had fallen when I fell asleep. My startled movements woke up Eli and Jenna beside me and we all stared at Mom.

“Mom,” I croaked. She smiled at me and reached out but flinched as if it an electric fence was surrounding her through the circle.

“W-why?” I asked. My eyes darted to the ground. I scrambled to wipe away the salt circle, but Eli stopped me.

“No,” he yelled. “You will put all of us in grave danger if you do that!

“I don’t care!” I screamed. “She wants to get out!”

Eli and Jenna both held me back as I started crying again. I focused on my mother’s face and eyes, which looked back with such emotion that appeared to be…guilt. I was confused. She didn’t have a reason to be. She died. It wasn’t her fault; it was mine. “Mom!” I called out.

Jenna hugged me from behind whilst pulling me back. I felt dampness on my back, and I realized Jenna was crying too. I crumpled to the ground and sobbed.

Mom kneeled and hugged her knees. She pointed at one of the cards scattered in front of her and turned to face me. I scrambled forward, escaping Eli and Jenna. I took the card in hand. The Ten of Swords: acceptance of grief.

She pointed to another card. The Star: move on and grow.

Mom looked at me one last time and smiled, the warm kind she always gives whenever I attempt something ambitious but fail.

A hundred emotions washed over me, but the most overpowering one was love.

I then lost all ability to move or even breathe as I watched my mother disintegrate into blue flecks and finally disappear. I held those two cards close to my heart, as my wails pierced the night.

EPILOGUE

I shuffled my cards in varying speeds before fanning them out on the table in between Eli and myself.

“You know the drill,” I said. “Pick three.”

It’s the third month of me giving Eli free weekly predictions for him helping me attempt to resurrect my mom, or rather me paying him back with divinity. He chose three cards. I opened my mouth to explain what they meant, but he cut me off: “How are you feeling?” he asked.

I smiled. “You’re consulting me for advice,” I said. “Not the other way around.”

“I know, I know. I just… I’m worried,” he hesitated.

My eyes wandered around the room. In the corner, Jenna was lounging on the sofa, charming trinkets to float around while listening to some obscure indie song. Eli sat across from me with hands locked together.

“It’s hard,” I said. “Sometimes I still feel like it’s my fault she died.”

Before Eli could say something, I added, “Remember when I said before the séance that I could not stop for death. Well, I think it stopped for me, or more accurately… Mom stopped for me.”

Eli smiled and then Jenna piped in a serious tone as she turned her attention away from her charming and towards us: “That’s awfully poetic of you.”

Then the seriousness of the moment was gone as Jenna’s charmed trinkets suddenly fell from their orbit to splash around her, causing the three of us to laugh together.

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About the Author
Ashley is a marketing major in her senior year at PolyU. She hails from Indonesia, where she developed a love of curling up with a good book. As a writer, she favors the fantasy genre and is working toward her goal of authoring novels and lifestyle articles.

Author’s Reflection
Originally, this story was an assignment for one of my electives. I had dabbled in creative writing before but never completed any of my stories…until this one. A month before the first draft was due, I lost my great-aunt, whom I was close to. Hoping that writing out my grief would help me cope with the situation, I chose the theme of death and grief for my story, “Tarot Cards and Death.”                         

Upon hearing that my story was publish-worthy for Inscribe, I submitted it for consideration. After its acceptance, I received a very enlightening session critically criticizing my work, which mainly revolved around how the events of the story had to fit within the world-building. This ties in a lot with fantasy writing and eventually helped me finetune my story

My editors made me realize the importance of being open to change as well as setting boundaries according to my opinion. That really connects back to why I created this story and what I have learned in its creation.

This experience has really shaped me to be a better writer and a person with a better perspective. I hope anyone who reads this story will come out the other side of it in better shape, too.