Major Arcana: sex, love, and Tarot

Chapter 7: The Tower

Rosemary woke with sex still on her mind. Humming to herself, she went into the kitchen and flicked on the electric kettle to boil water for tea. She popped a slice of bread in the toaster, grabbed her butter and jam from the fridge, and settled down at the table for breakfast. As she sipped her tea, her eyes fell on the embroidered Tarot bag. For once I'm actually awake enough in the morning to do it properly! With a cheerful flourish, she reached into the bag and grabbed a card.

The scene immediately gave her pause. She stopped her mug in mid-air, staring at the card. On it, a tall stone tower reached up into the night sky. Its summit was struck by lightning bolts, causing stones to crumble and fall into the roiling sea below. Two human figures tumbled down, eyes wide with panic as they hurtled toward the dark water. It was a disturbing card. A card of warning; a sense of insecurity, of fear. The Tower.

What the hell? Rosemary's appetite disappeared as she studied the puzzle. What's The Tower doing here? This isn't how I feel right now. I had an amazing time with Josh last night – freaking awesome sex – promised to take me out on Saturday. Totally over my old breakups, thanks to Death. Feeling pretty good, actually. So why this dark warning? What's about to come crumbling down? With a frown, she finished her tea and put the mug in the sink. Rosemary forced herself to eat a couple more bites of toast before leaving for the bus.

It was while she stood at the bus stop, hands in her pockets, waiting, that she remembered.

"Fuck," she swore under her breath. "I almost forgot – again! Fabricio and I planned to meet for late night at the SAM."

She groaned, for once in her life not wanting to go to the museum. Even though they'd agreed to be "art geek hangout buddies," she knew he was interested in more. After last night, she would have to tell him about Josh. Thinking back to The Tower, to the terrified expression on the face of the falling man, she couldn't suppress a shudder.

*

They spent most of their time in the small, oft-neglected gallery of Australian Aboriginal art. Rosemary loved the pure elegance of their lines. The merest shape – just a curve in a series of dots – could represent water, or a snake. No other culture on Earth had mastered the perfection of the abstract like they had. She sketched a few of her favorites in her purse-sized sketchbook. Fabricio observed the art with a master's gaze, every now and then interjecting something he knew about the medium, or historical background. As usual, Rosemary felt like she'd learned a ton, just from being in his company. It was seven o'clock before her stomach reminded her about dinner.

"Just not anywhere too expensive," she said, glancing meaningfully at him. "My budget can't take it this month!"

"My treat this time, remember?"

"No way! We'll split it, at least."

Fabricio gave a good-natured shrug. His smile was so natural, his pleasure in her company so sincere, Rosemary felt bad already about what she had to tell him.

"Works for me," he said. "Pizza?"

"Okay."

They took the bus to the Pagliacci on Lower Queen Anne. Rosemary'd seen wheelchair users loaded onto the bus before, but never anyone she knew. Now she understood what an operation it was. A long, grueling operation. Hard on a person's pride. The bus driver put the vehicle in park, lowered it down with a loud, irritating beep of warning, and released the ramp. All of this took a good thirty seconds. Then Fabricio rolled onto the ramp, and another series of beeps signaled it coming back up. After that the bus driver went in, shooed some grouchy people off their front seats, and folded them back to reveal the wheelchair security belts. He strapped Fabricio's chair in, checked to make sure it was well attached, and after receiving Fabricio's gracious thanks, finally went back to the driver's seat.