Megan:

She stands looking out of the window, her back to the room full of memories.  The view before her is a vista of trees and green.  “It’s hard to believe that you’re right in the middle of a city”, she thinks to herself.  Taking in the panoramic scene for one last time. She then returns back to her packing.  Boxes fill the room, all neatly labelled.

“This is my life a bunch of labelled boxes, all broken down into neat little categories, segmented and structured,” she says, speaking out loud, listening to hear it reverberate off the blank painted walls.

“ You ready hun?” a voice calls

As ready as I’ll ever be.

She picks up one of the boxes and takes it downstairs to the waiting van, soon her entire life is packed away into the waiting transit, ready to be transplanted into a new city, a new life, she hopes that it will take root there are grow, grow into something special.

Her life had not always been this way, once she had dreamed of remaining forever in this place, of living next door to her parents and looking after them as they aged and withered, but fate had played it’s hand and now she was going away.  She should have guessed, the cards, it’s always in the cards if you know how to look, sometimes they are obvious, other times you just chose to ignore them.

The Fool, the zero, the free spirit, symbol of new beginnings…

The Magician, a clean slate, something wonderful this way comes….

Judgement, always ready to show you that opportunity knocks, and offers hope for new projects.

The Lovers, always a sign to me that change is not only coming, but they will also be happier

Death, so often misread by the those literal souls, Death the bringer of change.

And yet even with just these major arcane in almost every reading she did, still she missed it, until the day, the day her results came and her local University would not accept her. 

She turns and stares at the house, drinking in every detail, the way the paint was chipped above the door, the rust on the letterbox.  She stares at the curtains at the window, the ones she had helped her mother make last summer, she smiles as she remembers the trips to the market to get more material.  She turns and grins at her mother, as if she too is remembering.  Then the girl gets into the van, putting on the safety belt and looks at the house number, part of which had fallen off and her father had never bothered to replace.

This is it, this is the change.  She thinks again of The Fool, the indestructible.  I too am dancing on the edge of a cliff, teasing those who would hurt me, I hope I never fall.

As they drive, she thinks on her life. 

Born into the world on a cold November morning, premature and ill, this girl smiles, “ the only time I’ve ever been ill” she thinks, “ was the few days after I was born” I am The Fool.  She skips her uneventful childhood, choosing not to think of the bullying and teasing she had undergone at the hands of her peers.  She picks up again on the day of her fourteenth birthday, the coming on of winter, that thrill as the air zings with frost.  The day her mother gave her the present that would change her life.  She still has the cards, still uses them even though she has other packs, they are her favourite for they opened a window for her, one she didn’t even know was closed.

As soon as she had ripped of the wrapping she had stared at the pictures, absorbing them into her being, knowing she understood them from that moment.  The book which had come with them still sat untouched, she had never needed to be taught how to read them, it was as if the knowledge had always been there, just sitting quietly and patiently, knowing she would find it.  The cards changed her in so many ways; yes she was still the quiet shy one in class, the one who never spoke unless forced, the one who never had a friend in her year.  But she didn’t care; she’d simply hug her cards to her and whisper their names like a mantra.  She would spend her lunchtimes in the corner of the library playing with them, talking to them in her head, absorbing the messages they had to give. With the High Priestess and the Empress on her side, her career choice became obvious, she knew she had to care for others, that her gifts would give her an edge.  She chose her G.C.S.E`s and A levels with this plan in mind, studying hard and getting results.

Her sixth form years had opened more doors for her as she slowly made friends, those who saw past the strange silent girl in the corner, and those who saw her gifts and cherished them.  And when the Ace of Cups showed up in every spread she smiled and looked to Ben.  Ben was a boy in her sociology class, and he always had a cheeky grin just for her.  She fell for him so quickly and so hard, accepting that his music came first with him as her cards did for her.  She was content to sit and listen as he sat and played tune after tune, testing her knowledge of his favourite songs.  She would smile, he was her Knight of Cups, the faithful lover and friend, poetic and kind.  But for some reason, one she never found out, he dumped her.  He broke her heart in two and she knew it would never heal right, never be whole again.  He was her knight, her love, the only man she wanted or would ever want. 

Again she refuses these painful memories, remembering instead those blissful months of innocent happiness that they had shared together. But only for a while as she can’t bare to think anymore and instead stares out of the window as the world flashes by, they were on the motorway, driving away from her home, her family, her life and more importantly from Ben, she sat staring thinking, knowing she would never set eyes on him again.  He had changed from a Knight to the Tower, the symbol of pain and troubles, of instability.

Grimly the girl tries to look to her future, as she does so she puts her hand in her pocket and wraps her fingers around her cards.  She closes her eyes and lets the images come, to her  like a silent film, like someone inside her head is working the reels, letting her glimpse into the future or the past.  It had always been that way, like something working the cards for her.  With a start she opens her eyes and thinks, yes something else inside her, suddenly an image is there, a new one, a queen she thinks and she sees the face smile.  A queen of what though.  The other in her head cannot be categorised in to any suit but seems to be a blend of them all, and yet and the same time so much more.  The girl simply stops and thinks as the miles fly past her window, how had she missed this before, as she thinks over the past few years this face had always been there, her guide.

Suddenly the van stops and the girls is jolted out of her reverie, they are here, her new home.  Slowly she moves herself, unfolding herself from her seat, her body acting without her really knowing how or why.  She smiles as her new landlord shakes her hand and gives her the keys.  Unlocking the door to her new life the girl is barely aware of the hustle and bustle as her parents unload the van and talk to her.

Sitting alone now in her new room, her parents gone the girl thinks once more of the woman in her head, she seems to be trying to talk to her, to tell her something, but she can’t hear.  It’s like watching a black and white film with the sound turned off, frustrated and angry the girl gets out her cards and lays out a spread, she keeps trying all the different ones she can think of, concentrating on the woman.  As the hours pass she becomes more and more frustrated, and in a fit of anger throws her cards into the air, then she turns and stalks out of the room.  When she dares to venture back, she stares, for the only cards face up are The Moon and The Queen of Wands.  She drops onto the floor staring at these cards.

The Moon, a card that warns of danger, that something is not what it seems.

The Queen of Wands, a woman of freedom and creativity, one in power or that holds responsibility, and a lover of nature.

The girl is confused as to how these cards are relevant to her, for once she cannot see.  She cries into her hands, the tears of despair, of not knowing and of frustration.  When she looks up again she sees the full moon rising in her window and knows it for an omen.

But it was not for several years that she found out the meaning of this omen.  Her university career flashed by, she gained her first class honours degree is social work and got a job, not back home as she had always planned, but there in the new place, her life having rooted itself there without her even knowing it.  She had her own house, job and life, finally independent but still the night of visions would haunt her.  Every time she picked up a pack of cards, even playing cards the Queen of wands (or clubs) would reveal itself.  This queen was someone she knew she had to find, who would finally make the silent film speak.  As she worked she would stare into every face, looking for the magic she hoped to find there, and every time she was disappointed.

The girl is now a woman, one with a life, but one stuck in the past.  She is still almost entirely friendless, the only people she sees are ones who want her to read the cards, and every time she does so she sees the silent woman, feels the encouragement, the urge to reach that bit further and to know her true self.

She becomes desperate to know what this true self might be, she meditates, fasts, even dares to smoke dope, knowing the risk she is taking with her career in an attempt to search it out.  Sometimes, just sometimes she thinks she can make out some of what the woman is saying, just the odd word, but when she returns it is gone.  But she notices the more she does this the easier it becomes, slowly the woman’s words take on shape and form, and even meaning.  The woman is her avatar, this she learns, but as to what this means she is still lost.  She gropes and searches, reading book after book, digesting Crowley and Gardener, but is still none the wiser.  The woman seems to say more to her, indicate that she is important that she must be changed in some way.

She turns to her cards, hoping her reading will help, but all she sees is the Queen of Wands, smiling back at her and she knows this is the key, the person who will change her avatar, this silent woman.  But she has known this for so long, has searched so hard, it’s like the voice in her head is silently screaming at her, is becoming desperate to awaken.

Suddenly she stops, and sits, her mind reeling.  That’s it, that’s what it wants, her avatar wants to awaken, not just to become heard.  The words of the avatar come crashing through her head, suddenly for that brief moment she has sound, not just any sound, but  stereo surround sound.  It blots out everything, the world is gone in a flash, it’s just her and the woman, and everything she says is clear as day.

A Mage? Her? No, just a psychic, a tarot card reader, a social worker, not a mage.  And with this denial the world comes back, she sits and hears the beeping of car horns through the open window, the chatter of young girls on the street, yet inside she feels empty, she tries to explain to herself this feeling she has, it’s like when you run and run to make a bus only to see it drive away, only so much more, she grasps and fails.

She just sits there, watching the day pass, angry with herself and trying desperately to hear the woman speak again, but there is only silence inside her head, a silence so profound, so deep that she cries, she cries a river of tears, wishing in this deep hole only for oblivion.  Then the phone rings, the sound makes her jump out her skin.  She sits and lets it ring, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 times.  In the end she gives in and answers.

The voice on the other end is calming and soothing, it makes her feel good and happy.  This voice reassures her that she isn’t alone, that she has friends and people to care for her.  She agrees to meet the woman, knowing she tells the truth.  Her mind fills with voices and images as her avatar appears and smiles at her; it’s voice clearly in her head. 

She gets ready to meet the woman and knows, knows in her heart that this is it, this is what she was meant for.  Meeting this woman will make her whole; make her what she should always have been.

She knows the woman before their eyes meet, this is the Queen of Wands and she is home.  She stretches out her hand and smiles, her eyes glistening with tears.

“ Hello, I’m Megan Thomas, you must be Niamh”

The woman in her head sings, and the world shines with a new light.

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