The Key Part 6

When I got to Marsha's home, her grandmother told me she was in her room. She was sitting on her bed wearing a white button down blouse, unbuttoned and open to reveal the swell of her breasts that showed between the curtains of her top, she wasn't wearing a bra. She was sitting with one foot under her bottom, the other leg dangling of the edge of her bed, slowly swinging with a shoe hanging off one toe. She had black lace panties on and was thumbing through a deck of over sized cards. It took me a while to place where I had seen these before, and when. it had been a little more then a decade ago when I had swept them off the small table in the long forgotten house. 1

"Hey lover, " she purred seductively, "since when did you start reading tarot? I thought I was the witch in this relationship". She chuckled softly and turned over the cards one by one, occasionally she would wrinkle her nose in distaste or seeming confusion or smile perceptively at each passing image.2

"Where did you get those?" I asked a little more angry then I wanted to sound. She looked hurt and then set them down in the worn box.3

"Hey hun, I'm sorry I didn't think you'd even miss them. They were under your bed and covered in dust. I found them when I was getting dressed the other day."4

She looked at me levelly. "You don't know what these are do you?" she tilted her head questioningly.5

"You didn't even know you had them did you?"6

I didn't answer and she ran a finger delicately over the old carved box.7

"They are very old, and I don't recognize many of the designs..." her voice trailed off."But they give off a strong energy, and a dark one." 8

I stood arms folded, curiosity overshadowing anger.9

I grunted with quiet resignation, "Still, you have earned yourself a spanking." She purred softly.10

"I look forward to it," but her attention returned to the deck, "It's a tarot deck. A way to read people, events, possibilities." She continued to run her long fingers over the wood carved lid, as if caressing a lover, "I have a deck, Rider - Waite, pretty standard. I've seen many other designs and styles but these.." again she paused, "So old, so, so...electric."11

I was a little uneasy. At that time in my life all I ever saw about tarot was Hollywood fantasy, doom and gloom predictions and mystic rituals performed by gaudily dressed women in cheesy make-up and too many rings. Gypsies, curses, and stolen money. Plus the associations of evil, horror and bad fortune as portrayed by every evangelistic crusader with blow dried hair and over white teeth, rallying God's fundamentalist army against the devils plague of sex, drugs and rock and roll. All three of which I revelled in with heedless abandon, more so since I met Marsha. In fact the only sin I dropped was my indulgence in drug and alcohol. Marsha and I decided we would rather our minds and bodies stayed clear and healthy to improve our sexual energy, not out of any righteous indignity or higher pious ideal. In fact we both joked that the only commandment we hadn't broken was "thou shalt not commit murder". 12

"Nine out of ten, lover" Marsha would often joke with me. "Not a bad record"13

"OK, so what are they? What do they mean?" In all the time we spent together she had kept her practice of Wicca pretty much to herself. She had offered to give me readings but I never took her up on it. Rarely we would initiate some sexual rite, but I really didn't get to involved in her practice. Being a borderline atheist meant I pretty much didn't see much hope in any religion, but Christianity was high on my hit list and anything I could do to shock the Religious Right was just icing on my angry cake. And blasphemy and sacrilege was a forbidden pleasure we reviled in. 14

"Shall I read your cards lover?" she smiled up at me, open inviting, brimming with sensual power and heat. 15

"I slid to the bed beside her. "With those?"16

Slowly she shook her head.17

"No, I don't like those. They scare me. In fact, I think you should get rid of them, destroy them."18

Her eyes seemed to haze over as if in a fog.19

"But they are fascinating, I'd like to study them first. Where did you find them? How did you get them? Why didn't you ever use them?"20

I didn't really have an answer, until that day I had all but forgotten about the key, the cards and that day in the house. I placed my hand on hers and closed the box. Slowly as if waking from my own dream I led her back to that day and to what happened. I told her of the history of lost people and the seeming haze of forgetfulness about the house and it's silent past.21

"Let me read you lover. Let me see if we can figure out what happened there"22

I slipped the box from her fingers and put it in my bag.23

"Marsha, there's more. Come home with me. I remember some old books. Weird books in Latin, German and some in languages I don't even recognize."24

She nodded and we kissed. I never felt so alive as I did when she held me, to this day I can still smell her hair, feel her soft skin. This is how I always remember her. She'll always be eternally young and vibrant.