Magnified World by Grace O'Connell

Author:Grace O'Connell [O’Connell, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-36039-7
Publisher: Random House of Canada
Published: 2012-05-29T00:00:00+00:00

Eleven

When I showed up for my Thursday evening session, Rosenberg uncharacteristically met me in the lobby and led me to his office. He flicked on the light after groping for the switch. The fluorescents buzzed loudly for a moment and then settled into a hum. The office was tidier than it had been the previous week and smelled of Pine-Sol. He gestured for me to take a seat.

“I got rid of that Pier One thing,” he said. “I think you’ll find this more comfortable.” There was a second armchair, like his, with a TV table set up beside it. “I appreciate your cooperation,” he said, setting his briefcase on the desk. He brought over the deck of tarot cards and put them on the TV table before retreating to his desk.

“Aren’t we doing the regular session first?”

“I thought we might start with the research-related activity. Just so you’re not distracted during our session. If that’s all right.”

“Sure,” I said. After what happened in the car, I had no desire to talk about myself, and no energy to probe Rosenberg for stories of my mother. “So, I just do a reading? For who? Myself?”

“Precisely,” he said. “Now shuffle the cards again please. No, wait.”

He bent down and opened his briefcase again, and he fumbled for a few minutes, setting up a small video camera on a telescopic tripod. “Just a second now,” he said.

When he was satisfied, he hunkered down in front of the camera and pushed the recording button. “This is Dr. Aaron Rosenberg. Session number nineteen. Patient name Margaret Pierce. Toronto, Ontario. Thursday, July twenty-third.” He paused and looked at his wristwatch. “Seven oh nine p.m.,” he said. Then he moved away from the camera and said, more loudly than normal, “Go ahead, Margaret. With the cards.”

I shuffled and cut the deck. The cards were stiff and slick. My mother would have recommended sleeping with them under my pillow for a few days before using them for a proper reading, but I doubted Rosenberg was in the mood to wait. I emptied my mind. I didn’t want to ask the cards a question. I didn’t like the idea of trying to boss them around, make them perform. The blinking light of the camera was unnerving me. I hardly ever did a full reading for myself. I only flipped through the cards, laying them out one at a time to test my memory. I usually had my notebooks, just in case.

I laid out a five-card spread. They were large and unwieldy in my hands, too slippery and new. The five of cups, the queen of cups, the two of swords, the hermit, the four of wands, reversed. I bit the inside of my cheek: the queen of cups was my mother’s card, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

I poked at the cards. “Twos are about potential. Things that haven’t happened yet. Like two things coming together to create another thing. Or a choice. Fives are uncertain. They’re not happy cards, most of the time.

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