I was inexplicably greedy for the sensation, which I’d never experienced anywhere before. I wanted to feel that alive, that peace, that contentment, forever.
What was happening?
I’d come to St. Nacho’s with every intent of passing through, but the thought of leaving the pretty little beach town gutted me.
I felt the oddest certainty I belonged there.
Stunned, I got to my feet and walked up Main Street. There were the usual shops—sundries, beachwear, hats, and sunglasses. A coffee shop, a veterinary clinic, specialty boutiques, frozen yogurt. I wandered without purpose, as if my feet had a plan of their own, through secondhand stores and a hardware shop. I passed by a realtor’s office, where I actively looked at the photos of their listings in the window.
At that point, I couldn’t have articulated my goal or if I even had one. I was a camera, taking everything in, storing each image in my mind, in my heart, for some unknown later.
As if in a dream, I found a tiny shop called Rune Nation.
Inside, a woman appeared to be explaining tarot cards to a group of sunburned tourists. She had to be the famous Minerva and the store the one Tug had told me about. She fit his description perfectly. She was adorable.
She turned when I entered and said, “Welcome to Rune Nation. Can I help you find anything?”
“Minerva?”
“That’s me. Have we met before?” She tilted her pale round face, her dark eyes bright and searching.
“No, I have a friend who mentioned you. I—”
“Friends are good to have. You’re concerned about yours, aren’t you?” Tug was certainly right about the woo-woo. The way Minerva stared at me, as if she could look right through me, reminded me of my mother. I would never be able to keep secrets from this woman.
The tourists watched us with fascination.
“Yes,” I answered. Obviously, I was concerned about Tug. “I often worry about my friend.”
“Mm.” She eyed me. “Would you like a reading?”
“Sure.” My feet carried me forward. “I don’t usually do things like this.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I do them all the time.” Her lips parted in a cagey grin. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
She motioned for me to sit at a card table in the center of the store.
“How much does it cost?”
“Let’s just do a three-card spread. No charge today.”
“I don’t want to take advantage.”
“Who says I’m not taking advantage of you?” A ripple went through her patrons. It was good for business to see a card reader in action, which was probably why she’d offered. Minerva interested me. Besides the shop, she managed Tug’s living arrangements, and apparently, she’d helped him get a job. I felt like I owed her. Maybe I’d buy a book or something.
“Normally,” she said, “I do readings in private, but because it’s a holiday, I’m having fun. Getting to know people.”
“How do you do? I’m Luke.”
“Hello, Luke.” She had me shuffle the deck and then she turned over my first card. “I’m going to call this your past card. Ooh. Judgement. This is the beginning of your story. This card isn’t as ominous as it seems from the image. I’ve always believed it refers less to judgement by others and more to how we see ourselves and the world around us. When it represents the past, this card could be about how you see who you are, deep within yourself, and whether you like the person you see. At any point in our lives we can take stock of how we’re living and evaluate how we got there. Of course, in all good stories the past is prologue. Now we need an incident—something or someone—that changes the story’s trajectory.”
“Help me Obi Wan Kenobi,” I said. “You’re my only hope.”
“Exactly!” Her laughter jingled like her bracelets. “I see you’re familiar with the hero’s journey.”
“Little bit.” I admitted
“Hm. You’re a wily one, I think.” She turned over the second card. “Ace of Wands. This is wonderful. The wands represent fire and transition. In the present position, the Ace of Wands is pure potential. There’s huge momentum here. Life is offering you a gift, a new beginning, a transformation. It’s something that may not come around again, so you must make a choice: accept the opportunity or let it pass you by.”
“But no pressure. Ace of Wands. I’ll remember that.”
“When I’ve turned over the next card,” she said, “you should take a photo and get a feeling for what the cards mean to you. I get a very strong sense that research is in your nature. You’re… inquisitive, open minded, a devourer of knowledge.”
I raised my hand. “Librarian.”
“Ooh.” Minerva’s patrons said as if fireworks had exploded above us. “Ahh.”
“And finally—” She turned over the third card. “Wands again. This time, the Queen of Wands. Oh gosh. The Ace of Wands speaks to potential. It encourages us to follow our hearts, make our dreams come true, work where our passions lie, and love who we love without fear or doubt. The Queen of Wands often represents a strong female figure who is influencing your life. If that’s me, mea culpa.” Minerva laughed modestly. “Ahem. Wands are strong, passionate, unpredictable, and energetic. They represent sexuality too. In this case, I believe the Queen of Wands represents your strength of purpose. Believe in yourself. Make your choices without fear. You have everything you need in order to do what is necessary to care for yourself and those who matter to you.”
While I processed her words, I took out my phone and snapped a picture of the cards. “You’re very good at this.”
She laid her hand over mine. “I’ve done it for a very long time. Tell me again how you came to be in St. Nacho’s?”
“I came to help my friend Tug move here. He’s staying in town. I think you helped him find a job?”
“Oh, Tug. That explains all the wands.” She nodded fervently. “He’s made of fire. Small world.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” I rose. “I should probably let you get back to your customers.”
She gave me a serene smile. “I’m so glad I met you. We’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”
“I hope so. Thanks for the reading.” Despite being a skeptic, I’d been enthralled while Minerva read my cards. She was such a character. While she read, she pulled an aura of mysticism around both of us like a heavy curtain.
I looked around the shop while she read a couple of the more adventurous tourists. I finally settled on a great looking female-centric tarot deck and guidebook for Echo and a miniature kaleidoscope for Gayle.
After Minerva rang up my purchase, she patted my shoulder. “I’m sure Tug will tell me how things work out.”
I hesitated at the door. “Would it be too much to ask you to look out for him?”
She softened her gaze. “I look out for everyone. It’s my curse and my pleasure.”
“Thank you, Minerva.”
When I left the shop, the jangle of the bell on the door seemed to break the spell I’d been under inside. As soon as I stood in the sunshine, I began to question everything about my visit. Minerva was no doubt a diligent businesswoman and a competent cold reader. She couldn’t be an actual psychic because there was no such thing.