Arcanum (Tales from the Tarot)

17. Greyson

Chapter seventeen

Greyson

A nticipation of the evening to come had me buzzing all morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so happy. It had certainly been over two years. Probably longer.

As much as I didn’t want to think about Don or Lola and the horrors that had transpired in my life, reality slapped me in the face as soon as I saw the newspaper.

Since he didn’t get his interview for the business profile, it seemed Terry Williams reported on the so-called “scandal” instead—the protesting in front of Arcanum. He interviewed Karen Carlisle and she told him all about the inappropriate books I was selling, how I must have belonged to a Satanic cult, and that I was going to murder the children in Mapleton.

“Arcanum owner Greyson Darkholme declined to be interviewed,” the article concluded.

I crumpled it in my hands and swore loudly. The last thing I’d wanted was to be named in the newspaper at all and he’d gone and done it anyway. How long until Don found me? A week? A month? And what was I supposed to tell Chris when the harassment started up again? Oh, him? Don’t worry. He’s been stalking me for two years. He should be losing interest soon. That’s what the other police keep telling me. That was as convincing as believing Karen Carlisle would let her grudge go.

Perhaps that danger—being outed in the newspaper—was what the cards had been warning me about, in which case it didn’t have anything to do with Chris and I’d been worried for nothing. Well, not nothing. It was only a matter of time before Don found me again. He always did. I had to prepare for it as best I could. Or run. Those were my only two options. Of course, there was a more permanent third…

I didn’t have time to dwell on any of the possibilities.

Despite Karen’s continual chanting outside, the bells above the door jingled and a familiar little face popped inside.

“Hello Jackson,” I said with a smile, walking out from behind the counter to greet him. “Is your mom with you?”

The boy blinked and didn’t answer. Instead, he went straight to the window display, stroking one of the glittering crystals.

Nodding to myself, I opened the front door and stuck my head out, scanning over the top of the protestors to see if I could spot Jackson’s poor mother. I did—down the block, looking as frantic as the first day I saw them.

I lifted my hand and beckoned her.

She visibly exhaled and sprinted down the sidewalk, nearly bowling me over in the doorway. “He’s here?”

“He is,” I replied with a smile, gesturing to the inside of the store. In the sunlight, it was hard to miss the bruises on the left side of her face, all in varying stages of healing. “He’s alright. Just looking at the crystals again.”

She sighed and marched inside. “Jackson Berger! You cannot keep doing this to me! Do you hear me?!”

Jackson didn’t even look at her, let alone react to her concern. He continued toying with the crystal in the light.

“Perhaps this might be a good time to exchange phone numbers?” I said. “That way I can let you know if he finds his way here again.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“I’m Greyson, by the way.” I extended my hand to her.

She swallowed and looked at it warily before finally shaking it. “Amanda. And you know Jackson.”

“I have some coffee cake, if you’d like some.” I walked back to the counter and lifted the glass dome on the platter, retrieving two slices.

“Thanks. It’s nice in here,” she said, trailing after me and looking around. “Kinda quiet though. I guess that’s what happens when Karen gets involved.”

“You’re familiar?”

She laughed bitterly. “Everyone in Mapleton is familiar with Karen Carlisle. She’s the queen busybody but there are plenty of other ones just like her. People who can’t keep their noses out of other people’s business.” She touched her bruised cheek, as if remembering it was there, and looked away.

“I have a salve at home that might help,” I offered softly. “It heals bruises faster than time alone.”

“I’m not some charity case,” she snapped, glaring at me. Embarrassment, not anger, washed over her, though it was easy to believe anger was the only emotion at work. It was the only one she dared to show people.

“I never thought you were. You look like someone who could use a friend, that’s all.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to put on a strong face, but inside I could feel her breaking. “It’s not always like this, you know. We have our good times.”

I didn’t say anything. I simply nodded.

“He’s been working a lot,” she continued. “He’s under a lot of stress. And it doesn’t help that Jackson is…” We both looked at her son in silent understanding. “Different,” she said quietly. “It’s not what Ted ever imagined. I had to quit my job to take care of him because he kept getting kicked out of daycare. So that added more pressure onto Ted and I just—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I interrupted gently. “My friend Beatrice is a social worker. She works with several domestic violence groups out east. It’s not a life anyone would willingly choose for themselves or their children.”

“Oh yeah? Is this the part where you tell me to just leave him?”

I shook my head. “No. How could you? You have no money. Nowhere to go. If you did, you would have done it. I don’t blame you for staying. I just wonder what Jackson’s life would be like outside of Mapleton. What your life would be like. A new town. New people. A school with a program for students like Jackson, where he’d get the attention he needs to thrive.” I gazed off into the distance, picturing it all for her and planting the seed in her subconscious. It’s what Nemo had done for me when I was on the verge of giving up. He knew I could start over and so could Amanda.

In the silence, something inside of her shifted. It wasn’t defensiveness or begrudging resignation. And it certainly wasn’t hope. It was curiosity. She was curious about the alternate life I presented to her, curious if it was possible, if she and Jackson could make it somewhere outside of Mapleton in the vast, unknown world. She was scared, certainly. Change was always scary. I knew that firsthand. But the curiosity remained. Given what she’d already endured, I knew the curiosity would only grow stronger.

Once it blossomed into determination, she and Jackson would leave and make a life of their own choosing. All it took was someone else believing she was capable of it, capable of starting over. She’d been beaten down for so long, she didn’t believe she was capable of anything anymore, other than surviving. But when someone else sees something inside of you? You start to believe in possibilities again.

Smiling softly to myself, I sidestepped her and went over to Jackson, chatting quietly to him about the various crystals in the window. He listened, even though he didn’t look at me, and touched each crystal as I talked, as if he was storing away the information for later.

For a moment, I felt like a teacher again and happiness soared inside of me. I was helping someone again, imparting knowledge, and changing the way they saw the world.

Yes, change was scary. My life had changed in too many ways to count and it was about to transform again the next time I saw Chris. For once, it was something I was looking forward to.