She looks at me.
“You’ve been holding yourself back.”
My throat tightens in hurt but then anger.
“Yeah, well, you were just told that I lack follow-through.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Okay,” I say. “So what am I supposed to do about it?”
She turns another card over. This time, a woman is blindfolded and tied up, with swords all around her.
“This is as clear as it gets,” she says. “You’re both hurting. You feel stuck.” She turns to Mark. “Your heart”—she holds her hand to her own—“is broken, and you don’t know how to move past it.”
Mark shoots me a skeptical glance and I have to agree. Heartbreak is an easy assumption to make about a teenage boy with straight teeth and nice clothing but a look of desperation.
“She is someone you’ve been close to for a long time,” she says. “I can tell by how deep the pain is.”
I’m confused, but then Mark’s smirk clarifies it: Kylie is just a woman in a costume, talking to a random boy about his love for a girl. She probably does this between semesters to make tuition money.
“Both of you, look closely,” she says. “This figure is bound and blindfolded. She appears trapped, but she isn’t.”
“She’s surrounded by swords,” Mark says. “It definitely seems like she’s trapped.”
“But look. The swords don’t go all the way around her, and only her arms are bound. If she would only trust herself to step forward, she would make it through. This card is a warning to you both. You can’t allow yourselves to be trapped by your pain.”
“Right,” I say. “If you find yourself in hell, keep walking. That seems to be the theme of the night.”
She says, “Could be. Or maybe, if you think you’re in hell, open your eyes. What you see may surprise you.”
She touches the last card, about to turn it over.
“This one will tell us about your future. Are you ready?”
We nod.
And she flips it over. Even though I don’t really believe in this, even though Kylie is just a pretty girl telling stories, playing a game with our lives, fear grips me.
On the card is a tower struck by lightning, raining fire into a black sky. Two men are diving out to escape the flames, plummeting to the rocky ground below. I was expecting a card about strength or peace, Kylie quoting everybody’s favorite words of encouragement: Yes, times are hard now, but you’ll find your way. Instead I’m face-to-face with disaster.
“Okay,” she says. “The Tower. This is a powerful card.”
“Yeah,” Mark says. “I can see that.” His voice is shaking.
“Don’t be scared,” she says. “Or, okay, go ahead: Be scared. That’s okay, too. Give me a second. Let me think.”
She goes back to the beginning—our upside-down World—follows it to the Eight of Swords and then to the Tower again.
“I’m new at this,” she says. “And I can see how these cards look frightening. They are frightening. But look at you two. You look horrible. You look sad and scared. You don’t need the cards to tell you that. So if we follow the journey they are showing us, we can see that the tower is necessary. Something profound needs to happen. Something needs to change, and it is going to change soon. You may already know what’s coming. It’s going to shake you. It’s going to change your world. But after the tower burns to the ground, and you’ve picked yourselves up off the rocks, and the fire ends and the night passes, it’s going to be morning again.
“Mark,” she says. “You think you are alone, but someone is on the horizon. I see love, mutual love, in your near future. It’s not coming directly from the card, but it’s a feeling I’m getting. It’s someone you know but wouldn’t expect. She isn’t who you think she is. And Kate, that woman in the blindfold? She is you. But look at how her feet aren’t even touching the ground. You are so close to being free.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I say.
“I know,” she says. “I know. But change takes courage.”
She sits back, as though she’s finished, but then she leans forward again and stares at the cards.
“A thought is coming,” she says.
We wait.
And then her face lights up.
“He,” she says to Mark. “I’m sorry—I just assumed. I wasn’t hearing clearly enough. He isn’t who you think he is.”
Violet gives the woman fifteen bucks and Mark stands up, but it takes me a moment longer to gather myself. Finally, I do. I try to call back my skepticism, but I can’t muster it. Whatever this just was, it feels real, and when I turn around I can see that it’s real for Violet as well.
She’s staring at me, her sadness intensified.
“It sounds like you have some things to figure out,” she says. “I don’t want to get in the way of them.”
I should tell her she has it wrong. I should lie and claim I don’t believe in any of it. I should say, Even if I did believe it, you could never be in my way. I want to go back to her studio, to the moment when she said she thought something was waiting for her here. I was, I should be telling her. I still am.
But I take too long to say anything, and she gives my silence meaning. She nods. She forces the saddest smile.
“Let me know when you’ve figured it out,” she says, and then she turns from us and walks back toward home.