Querita
Querita learnt her tricks early. Those
young girls in school had been bustling over a deck of cards. She had gone home
and ordered a set for herself and some books. She was the private developer
sort, and by the time she reached forty, she could perform predictions and work
talismans that made men make a sizeable fortune or win lovely wives.
When Odea visited her lair for the first
time, Querita recognized in her the air of very troubled passions, not uncommon
in young girls. But there were also the broken accents of depression and
ferociousness which added to the girl’s sensual charm - manifestations of
corporeal appeal are complex; but as a tarot reader, it was her duty to improve
the girl’s spirits.
The cards revealed the prominence of an
awkward, psychopathic boy. Not very
surprised, Querita enquired about Odea’s young swain. The brat was a bit of a
trickster in terms of romance. Moreover, he sold knives, axes and occasionally
the rural shotgun. The classicality of the affair entertained Querita – her
querent the young blameless girl in school shirt, sweaty from running; and her
lover the perennial bad juvenile. She
offered the girl great womanly wisdom on how to go about the affair, how to
keep it alive amongst the cramps of misgivings.
When Odea came back after a week, she was
livelier; and their feminine rapport, Querita realized, had begun to harvest
the solid material of trust. She gave the girl a vial of magical perfume and
some protective salt. Thought-daemons are to be kept away.
Happiness, however, was fleeting. Odea came
back two days later, saying that the boy had developed a liver disease, and the
clinician had unhesitantly attributed it to his unhealthy living. He had
behaved rashly with her, negated her maternal gestures, and even called home a
harlot from the neighbourhood.
The Death card appeared reverse in the
reading. Intuitively, Querita argued with her girl about her future stratagem
for a successful life. She urged the girl to open herself to newer changes, in
her romantic life as well as in her physical space. She must part with the boy, for her own
wellbeing. After a few faint and muddled denials, the girl agreed. Next month, Odea left for the larger city.
One afternoon, The Poet, Willful And
Capricious Lord of All Hierarchies, invaded her trance and told her, “Querita,
remember Odea? And her boy who sold knives? O how foolish you were to ask her
to leave! O what awful tragedies you create by your little ambitions of womanly
glory and wisdom!”
Facing such admonitions from The Poet, who
wasn’t trustworthy and relied often on crude antics, Querita reached for her
Pagan crucifix and broke her trance. She chose to take a sacred shower and
preserved the meditations for night time.
Odea prospered in the city, later went to
another one, found a more steadfast beau. She became a secretary, and was
celebrated amongst her friends as a cruel woman. She received attention from a
film company as well, its writer desiring to exploit, with a good heart, the
romantic meta-theatrical connotations of her name. Such was her commercial haste that when one
of her cousins briefly mentioned to her in a letter that her former rascal
boyfriend had been caught in a case of fraudery and grievous assault and died
while in jail, she whispered quickly to herself that she wasn’t really guilty
and finished her dinner. Later, she said a sorrowful prayer for his soul and
wept a little. Next morning, she telephoned Querita to verify the facts of the
death. The boy had swindled his slumbering aunt and beaten her mercilessly when
she tried to raise alarm.
That evening, urged by her own gloom and
cravings, Querita evoked Hadad, the bull, and submitted before the god’s
abundant abilities. It rained and thundered temperately all through the night;
at dawn, the town felt like a bird, damp and floating over a field.
