Reading Parts 8 and 9
Hi there!
We’re coming into a time when family is in the forefront of our minds, like it or not, and we’re all affected by our families, again, like it or not. Families are complicated, aren’t they? Even if you love them, they can be vexing, and often we create new families of the heart, friends who take the place of the family we don’t have in one way or another.
And we see each other through past impressions and memories, not always seeing clearly the person we - or they - have become. It’s messy, and emotional, and this is the beginning of the season where we’re brought into either close contact or isolation because of these relationships.
Either way can be good or bad. I suspect it all depends on attitude.
In any case, Emily’s family’s pretty complex, and this installment’s going to be longer than usual because of it. Grab something to drink, and let’s get going.
JUDGEMENT
Emily sat at the reading table, looking at the cards and the runes, the candles and the crystals, but she wasn’t really seeing them. She was lost in her memories.
As I sat down, she repeated, “You know, Marc wasn’t always devious like that. He used to be really nice.” I lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. I didn’t need to. My skepticism was palpable. “I know, it’s hard to believe now, but he was.
“See, he was Steve’s best friend. That’s how I knew him, and when he and Steve were palling around, he was lots of fun. I told you Steve never minded me being underfoot, and it’s true. But Marc didn’t seem to mind either. He kept me entertained while Steve was busy, and he always knew the coolest games.” She smiled and looked away, lost in her memories for a moment. Then she shook herself.
“So when Steve killed himself, Marc was devastated. He stopped coming around, of course, why would he? Of all Steve's friends, I missed him the most. He was a link to Steve, true, but I missed him in his own right. But we all went our separate ways. Still I always wondered what happened to him, y’know?
“And then he just showed up at the office one day, and we got to talking about the past. He let me have a little bit of Steve back, and I loved him for that.
“I dunno, maybe I never really loved him for himself but for the link he gave me to Steve.” The look in her eyes was incredibly sad.
I put a grating tone into my voice to stop her from becoming maudlin. If she kept this up, she’d convince herself that Marc wasn’t a bad guy after all. I’d seen it happen before. “So? So you didn’t love him for himself? Big deal, it happens. But Emily, don’t forget that he didn’t love you either. Remember?”
She was defensive. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. But all I’m saying is that Marc wasn’t always a bad guy. He changed after Steve died.” She shrugged. “We all did. Not everything that happened was his fault.”
“Did he explain why Steve killed himself? Going from an argument with your dad to suicide was a pretty drastic step. There’s a lot missing there, you know. People, especially basically well-adjusted people like your brother, don’t kill themselves just because they’re not doing what their fathers want them to do for a living. That’s just silly.”
She shook her head. “He didn’t know either. He was just as shocked the rest of us. No one knew Steve was that depressed. He never gave any signs.” She looked up at me, tired rather than angry. “Don’t you think I’ve gone over this again and again? Don’t you think I’ve examined each and every thing I said to him to see if there was anything I could have done or said differently to change his mind, stop him?”
“I know you did, you still do. All survivors of suicide victims do, and you know as well as any that if someone’s serious about killing themselves, there’s nothing you can do to stop them. But generally there’s some reason, however stupid it seems to the survivor. I haven’t heard of any reason except for the argument, and I got the impression your father and Steve had plenty of those. So what was different about this one?”
She shrugged and chose a card. I touched her ring this time instead of her wrist, and . . .
JACK OF DIAMONDS
I cannot see Emily anywhere, but am standing on the landing in what is her family house. I see Steve come out of the library and rush up the stairs. He is angry and wants to talk to Marc. He goes to his bedroom and pauses, hearing voices inside. He listens. As he leans against the wall, I see a statue on a table in the hall. I cannot hear what is going on in the bedroom, but as he listens, I see the statue shimmer and change. It is the saint Gabriel and he lifts his horn and blows. Emily peeks out of her door across the hall.
Steve’s face goes red, then the blood drains away, leaving his face pale. He rushes into the room and we see Marc in there. He is talking to Jonas, and they stop when Steve enters. Marc’s eyes go wide, realizing that they have been overheard. He goes quickly to Steve, puts his arms around him and tries to hold him, but Steve pulls away. He turns on his uncle and speaks angrily. Jonas laughs. It is not a gentle laughter, but is derisive. Whatever he says makes Steve even angrier.
He turns to Marc, and you can see him accusing Marc of something. For a brief moment I can hear Marc saying, “No, it wasn’t like that at all, I love you” and then the words are drowned out by the sound of the group Three Dog Night singing “Liar”. Steve’s face goes white and he whispers something to Marc, who looks to Jonas for an answer. Steve grabs Marc’s arm and shakes it. Marc pulls away, shaking his head and looking down. For a brief moment, we see Steve’s face, see the shattered look in his eyes, then he turns, runs out of the bedroom and flies down the stairs.
In the bedroom, I see Jonas talking to Marc, who begins to pick up things that belong to him, moving out of the bedroom. They look at each other and laugh. I can see that Marc was briefly troubled by his exchange with Steve, but that whatever his feelings on the matter, he was not going to let any emotional ties interfere with his plans, which now obviously do not include Steve.
I broke contact and looked at Emily, my tears mirroring her own. She had no idea that her husband had had such a relationship with her brother, but she knows now that Steve’s suicide was not her father’s fault at all. I started to get up, get her a glass of water or wine, but she reached out and grabbed at me, touching me while I was still touching the card and we were gone.
FEHU
We are back in Emily’s office. She is staring at the windows. The paperwork on her desk is piled and untidy, obviously forgotten. She is pale, distracted. I hear a sound and turn. Entering the room is a wild boar. He is cautious. He walks to Emily and brushes up against her. She starts and turns. She does not smile, but there is a lightening of her features. She waves her hand at all the paperwork, as if the enormity of what it represents is too much for her to deal with. When I look back at the boar, I see a man. He seems familiar to me; obviously he is close to Emily. I have not seen him before. . .or have I? Why is he so familiar? He talks to her briefly, then she leaves the room.
He sits at her desk, pain crossing his features for a moment, then he turns his attention to the paperwork. In no time, the pile is gone, and the man is leaving when Marc enters. He questions the man fiercely, but the man gives no ground. Marc looks at the desk in disbelief, and the man walks away. I know that this man has told Marc that Emily has handled all the work rather than explain he did it himself. I also know this is not welcome news to Marc.
The scene slips, and I see Emily sitting under a tree, beginning to hide in the shadows as she did when first she came to me. This is where Marc finds her. At first he is gentle with her, but her answers anger him, and his control over his emotions begins to fray. As he becomes more angry, Emily seems to cower more and more in the shadows.
She drops the seven pieces of wood she is holding, and I am afraid that she is giving up her control to indecision under his badgering. But she bends and collects them as if they were precious. She pauses, and I see that the last three have fallen in the shape of Fehu, the upward F shape reversed to her. She is in fact losing control over not only her possessions but herself.
Unexpectedly a small blue and silver butterfly lands on the Fehu shape. Marc begins to stomp on it, but he slips, falls. I could have told him it is dangerous to try to crush any fairy, but the one of healing will not be touched in anger, ever. She brushes against Emily, who has been almost frozen in the face of Marc’s anger. She shudders, takes a deep breath and reaches down to gather the rest of her sticks.
Emily turns her back on Marc and walks away through a row of hollyhocks, the blue and silver butterfly flitting behind her, erasing any trace of her so that Marc cannot follow.
She gets into a car, and an older woman is driving. Like the boar before, this woman seems familiar to me, but I cannot place her. She drops Emily off at her house, and as the older woman drives off, her car changes to two horses, and I realize she is the embodiment of Boadicea, but I still do not recognize her.
I sat back and stared at Emily. This is a truly puzzling reading for me. Normally I know who everyone is, but there are so many people hiding behind masks in her life that it’s hard to ferret out who they really are.
“Who’s Boadicea?” Emily’s voice cut through my turbulent thoughts.
“Hmm? Oh, Boadicea was a warrior queen in ancient England, she stood up against the Roman armies, led a revolt. She damn near made it too.”
“A warrior queen, huh? Guess that’s not me,” she sighed.
“Oh, I don’t know. You’re pretty tough. And sometimes the battles that are hardest to fight are the ones of the heart. I’ll bet you do fine against an invading army in your boardroom.” I stretched out my back.
“Yeah,” she chuckled, “I would as long as I had you to watch what everyone was thinking, and Phillip to make sure I dot and cross all the right letters.”
“Phillip? Is he the boar?”
She chuckled. “Phillip’s not a bore at all. He. . .”
I interrupted. “Not a bore as in boring. A boar as in the wild pig who came into the office and cleaned things up for you.”
“A boar’s a pig? Well, that certainly doesn’t apply to Phillip either.” She frowned at me.
“No, no, no, not a pig, although there’s nothing wrong with pigs. They're pretty cool, actually. But a wild boar is a different beast altogether. They’re ferocious fighters, one of the most dangerous creatures to be hunted. A wild boar will push itself down a spear that is impaling it just so it can kill the man who has speared it. They just don’t know what it is to be afraid. As long as he’s not being blindly stubborn, he’s a close to a hero as anyone can be.”
“Phillip, a hero? He’s not that either,” she smiled, a little sadly I thought. “He’s the president of the company. I’m the CEO. He handles the day-to-day running, I make the big decisions, although lately I haven’t made many good ones. My dad hired him not long before he died. Phillip’s a great guy, though. The company would have tanked if it hadn’t been for him. He’s managed to make me look good so the shareholders don’t know what I’ve been going through.”
“Sounds like a hero to me.” I looked at her thoughtfully. “I’ll bet Marc can’t stand him.”
Emily gave a short bitter laugh. “You’ve got that right. He’d have fired Phillip ages ago, but he can’t. I’m the only one who can, and I won't.”
I looked at her and asked slowly, “But if you were incapacitated or you died, Marc would inherit, wouldn’t he? He’d take over. Then he could fire Phillip.”
She looked at her wrists and then looked up at me. “Of course he could. And he would, that’s exactly what he’d do.” I could see her thoughts racing ahead, realizing what it would mean to have Marc take over her company. Now I could tell that she could see why she’d been reluctant to hand over the reins.
“Let’s take a short break, shall we?” I stood up. “We’ve been looking at what’s in your past, for the most part. When we come back, it’ll be time to see what’s going on now. I suspect it’s going to be difficult.”
“Nothing can be any more difficult than losing Samantha to SIDS.” Emily had her public face on, but her eyes betrayed her. I looked at her and nodded just once.
In my mind, though, I had doubts