By Jennifer Brozek
Previously published in the Karen Wilson Chronicles Omnibus
It was yet another perfect home with a perfect lawn and was the perfect target. John scowled at the tri-level house at the end of the cul-de-sac in Redmond’s suburban hell. Sure, for some people, the Eastside was a great place to live in, but you wouldn’t want to visit. Unless you were craving boredom.
Or the perfect mark to rob.
John grinned as he crept close. He’d been told that this house was a treasure trove of sellable things. Rich had broken in a couple months back, stole some small things worth a whole
lot. The pawnshop would do good business tonight.
He checked the backdoor and found it unlocked. Typical rich-bitch Microsoftie who thinks the world revolves around them. John slid his skinny sixteen-year-old frame—lithe, he
liked to think—into the kitchen. It was filled with the contrast of his target’s life: bachelor antique collector. Crappy pans were strewn about on the countertop while shining, embossed
plates sat in neat, secure rows behind glass-front kitchen cabinets.
John ignored all this. Too heavy to carry. Too easy to identify. He wanted the stuff in the office. Rich said he saw a lot of small collectible things that were easy to pawn and hard to claim
as an individual. The office was upstairs. Every step he took seemed to creak and crack, but with these newer houses, he knew it was his imagination.
His near-constant grin was a scar in the dark. In his mind, he was hunting through a dangerous tomb for the magical idol that would bring him fame and fortune. John paused at the
top of the stairs. Screw fame, he just wanted fortunes.
Nothing moved in the dark.
Four rooms split out from the landing. Three open and one closed. He could see a bathroom, a room with random crap—exercise equipment and a chest of drawers—and a room
with a desk. That meant the closed door was the bedroom. No doubt, there were valuable trinkets in there, but so was the owner. Perhaps another day, if the take from the office was good.
Three quick quiet steps and he was inside the office. He blinked in the dim light. The room was bigger than he had assumed and there was a second, smaller room off the first. He
could already see the bookcases filled with books and more. The grin returned and he examined the shelves in this room first. Just as he picked up a small, heavy metal statuette, a voice behind him spoke.
“Knocking would’ve been polite, you know.”
Without thinking, John turned and hurled the statuette at the small figure standing in the doorway of the second office room. He followed it, throwing himself at his enemy, intending to
bowl them over. Instead, he went flying and crashed into another stuffed bookshelf, some of the books tumbling down on him. The last of these, as thick as a dictionary, landed on the back of his head with a blinding thump. It added to the already surreal moment of someone so small tossing him across the room.
John lay there, half covered with books, unable to make his body obey him. It was worse than being forced to play football in gym class and getting creamed by a jock with a shitty
attitude as well as a desire to hurt him.
The figure moved to an overstuffed chair and sat. “What am I going to do with you?”
This time, he could tell the voice was definitely female. The sudden click and illumination of the lamp next to her gave John the impression of a small, dark-haired woman
with tanned skin before he flinched away from the unexpected light. He groaned as he moved.
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. But, I’ve learned that to defend myself, I need to be very aggressive. I was serious though, knocking would’ve been the polite thing to
do.”
John sat up, wincing as everything hurt. He froze at the sight of the small woman holding a large pistol. This time, he noticed the silver streaking her hair. He always noticed the stupidest
things when he was scared. “Uh, you don’t need that. I promise.”
“Liars always say, “I promise.” No, I think I’ll keep this. So…who are you?”
“John.” He winced at the squeak in his voice then shifted until he had his back against the bookcase. This gave him a good view of the room. The most lethal things at hand were the books
scattered around him. He could throw a couple and make a run for it.
“John what?” She didn’t take her eyes off him. “I can shoot you before you grab a book. Trust me, I’ve been through this before.”
He looked at her and saw not just the face of an old woman, but the face of someone who’d been through the wars. Her eyes were dead. Her hand didn’t tremble. “Corso. I’m John
Corso.”
“Well, John Corso, I’m Lina Yanin. You may call me Mrs. Yanin.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He had no idea why, but he knew respect and care was needed. It was probably the gun pointed at him.
“What are you doing here, young man?”
“Looking for something to steal and pawn.” John paused, confused. He hadn’t meant to say that.
“I think you’re bored and angry and looking for something to fill your shitty life.”
John blinked at her blunt words. He grimaced at the truth of them. “What’s it to you?”
She ran her hand through her hair and sighed. “It…fuck it. It reminds me so much of me at your age.” Lina peered at him, dark eyes hard and calculating. “You might be the one. Yes. I
knew I didn’t lock the backdoor. I usually do. Maybe….” She stared at him for a dozen heartbeats longer. “I’ll give you a choice. You can take whatever you want in the house except
for the tarot card in the safe over there. If you take the card without my permission, well… let’s just say you’ll regret it for the rest of your short days.”
John looked around until he saw a small safe on the bottom shelf of one of the bookcases. It was surrounded by books, but it wasn’t hidden. “Or what? You’ll shoot me?”
With a bark of a laugh, she tossed the weapon to the side. “It’s not even loaded. Then again, I don’t need it to protect myself from the likes of you.”
John surged to his feet. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The word, spoken with the flat tone of knowledge, and the books tumbled about him, made him pause. He grabbed an expensive looking crystal bell. “I can take this?”
Lina nodded. “Anything you can carry as long as you don’t steal the tarot card in the safe.”
“What’s so special about the card? Why’s it in the safe? And what choice? You said you’d give me a choice, but you didn’t tell me the second part.” John put the crystal bell back on
the shelf. He wasn’t going to take it without knowing what else was on the plate.
“Smart kid. Last one didn’t even notice that.”
“Last…?”
“Your friend, Richard.”
“He didn’t say he met you.”
“I know. He doesn’t remember.”
John scowled at her. “Why not?”
Lina smiled with too many teeth. “Magic.”
“Bullshit.”
“Eh? Was it bullshit that I threw you across the room, John Corso? Bullshit that you’re respectful to me? Well, as respectful as a punk like you can be. Bullshit that you haven’t tried to
run? It’s magic and it’s all linked to the tarot cards I own.”
Reluctant wonder crept through his mind and body. Magic? Real magic? Was it possible? “Tarot cards are bullshit.”
“Of course they are. Most of them anyway. Not the cards I have. Not the Rinaldo Todari tarot cards. They’re the real deal.”
He stared at her, everything else in the room forgotten. “What’s my other choice?”
“You can take anything in the house that you can carry…or you can take the one tarot card in the safe. That’s your choice.”
“There’s more to it than that.” John glanced at the safe. It was small enough to pick up and walk off with. Probably heavy, though. Or bolted to the shelves.
“There is. If you take the card…” She paused. “That’s not right. If you accept the card, you’ll be accepting a new purpose in life.” Lina barked an abrupt laugh. “You’d be accepting a
brand new life. One I don’t recommend if I’m to be honest.”
John leaned back against the bookshelf and crossed his arms. “I don’t understand.”
She gave a long sigh full of weariness. “I suppose not. And I need to tell you. There’s magic in the card I want to give you. It can lead you to the other cards. It wants to. It changes
things around you to help that happen.”
“Why would you give it up, if it’s magic? Did you call the cops? Is that what this is all about?” John wanted to leave. He tensed himself to go, but he couldn’t make his legs obey him.
“I’m tired, kid. Really tired. Even with it locked away, I can feel the Fool calling to me to continue the quest. I don’t have it in me anymore.”
“The Fool?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her voice soft. “The first card in the Major Arcana. The Fool. “A choice of life, a choice to be made. Choose your path carefully and nothing will lead you
astray.””
Goosebumps crawled up the back of his neck at this last bit that Mrs. Yanin quoted. There was power in the words. He rubbed his arms as she finished it.
““A decision is made, black or white. Think again. Are you wrong or right?” What will your choice be, John Corso? Will you accept my gift or will you take what else is in the house?”
“I think I want the card.” John examined his words. They were true words. The idea of holding magic in his hand was too much to give up.
“In the safe, there’s a bundle of a thousand dollars in twenties next to the card. You can take that instead. You can walk away a thousand dollars richer and forget all about the Todari
tarot cards.”
He locked eyes with her. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s a choice that will change your whole life. It will give you a purpose. It will be a burden.”
“I can handle it.” John lifted his chin. “I want the card.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. I choose the Todari tarot card.”
Lina relaxed in her chair and smiled. “Three times asked. You’ve got the will of a card collector. I’ll give it to you. But that is the only thing you may take from the house today.
Agreed?”
John nodded. “Agreed.”
“The safe combination is 11-29-19-60.” She paused and smiled a small smile of remembrance. “That was the day I accepted the Fool and the Fool’s path as my own. I was so
young and naïve then. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Well, I do.” He stepped to the safe and knelt before it. He paused, his hand hovering over the safe dial. Am I doing the right thing?
“You can still choose to take the riches.”
There was an ache in her voice that said she wanted him to choose the money and leave the tarot card behind. At the same time, there was still hope in her tone that pleaded for him to
take it. It was that ache…the one that said don’t choose the card…that moved his hand.
John opened the safe and saw two things: a thin box a little bit bigger than a paperback book and a small pile of twenty dollar bills. Ignoring money for the first time in his life, John
picked up the box. “I choose the tarot card.”
“I give it to you with my own free will. It is your tarot card now. God help you.”
“I don’t need God’s help.” He stood and raised a hand to open the box.
“No!” Lina’s voice was sharp. “Don’t open it in front of me. Just go.”
“Why?” He dropped his hand.
“You’ll understand when you see the card. Just…please. Go now.”
John narrowed his eyes as he scowled. “If this is a trick…”
“It’s not. Just wait until you’re on the doorstep to open it. You’ll understand.”
“All right.” Suddenly, he felt reluctant to leave. He didn’t know why. Fear pooled in his stomach. “Anything else I should know?”
She nodded, looking even smaller and more frail. “The card is indestructible. All of them are. They’re artifacts. They may be given away willingly or found or inherited, but never stolen,
never forced from their owner, and never sold. If they are, the power of the card works against the false holder. It’s a terrible thing to see.” She pointed at the box in his hand. “That one will
lead you to the rest. Each one has a different power.”
“Do you know what each one does?”
“Some yes. Some no. That’s something you’ll have to learn on your own. There are many collectors, John Corso. You’ve entered their world now.” She smiled at him. This time it was
filled with joy. “I can’t wait to see what they make of you. You may go now.”
The fear and reluctance disappeared and a lightness descended. He nodded to her. “Thanks.” He moved to the door and paused. “Will I see you again?”
“Oh yes. Of course. I have more than one Todari tarot card.”
John half-smiled. “Okay then. Later.” He turned and walked away. He left the house as he entered it—through the backdoor. However, on the back porch, underneath the flickering
light, he paused and opened the card box.
All thoughts of this being a weird practical joke drained away as he looked at the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The vivid colors stole his breath.
The card was of a sailor in old fashioned clothes walking off a pier. The boat was already gone, sailing away in the distance. The sailor looked backwards instead of watching where he
walked. Over his shoulder was a bag. Peeking out of it was a deck of cards. Tarot cards. Beneath the sailor, a dolphin breached the wild waves so he could step upon its back. On the pier, turned away, was a child in the same outfit as the sailor.
John knew, but he didn’t know how he knew, that the card symbolized blind faith in the universe and that it was a card of new beginnings, but the abandonment of the old for the new. He walked away from Lina Yanin’s house without watching where he walked in an unconscious parody of the card he held. It was mesmerizing. He continued to walk, swearing that he could see
the waves move and the distant flags on the ship wave.
He walked without knowing how long or how far, caught in the spell of the Fool. Until a hand spun him around and a fist socked him in the jaw. John tumbled to the ground, losing the
card as his head bounced off the pavement.
Blinking and dazed, he didn’t recognize where he was or who had hit him. The man, blond with a craggy face, hunkered over him, going through his pockets with experienced hands. “Hey…” the protest turned into a moan of pain as the mugger punched him again. This time, pain exploded in his nose and a warm gush of blood poured down his face and into his mouth.
The mugger opened John’s wallet, pulled the small wad of cash from it, and stuffed that in his pocket. He dropped the wallet on top of John as he stepped away. “Not much cash. But
what’s this?” He hunkered again and picked up the Todari tarot card.
John sat up and reached for it. “No!” He got kicked in the side for his trouble.
“This might be worth something to someone.”
Holding his side, John shook his head. “I won’t give that to you. It’s mine. You can’t take it.”
“Fuck off, kid.” The mugger strode down the alley towards the street.
Hurt him, John thought towards the card. Hurt him bad. You’re mine.
When it looked like the guy was going to get away, John grabbed his discarded wallet, forced himself to his feet, and stumbled after him. “Hey!”
The mugger looked over his shoulder, slipped on something, and tumbled into another person. That guy shoved him away with a curse. The mugger tripped on the sidewalk curb and
hit the asphalt hard. John could only stare as the sound of squealing brakes ended in the mugger being hit from the side as he struggled to get out of the road.
John hurried to the mouth of the alleyway. A crowd gathered by the downed man and the driver was on the phone to emergency services. He looked down. At his feet was the Fool. Picking it up, he saw that it was as pristine as when he first looked at it, despite being knocked around and dropped into the muck a couple of times. He smiled at it. “So, that’s what happens,
eh?”
He put it back in the small carrying box, not wanting to be mesmerized by its beauty again. As he did, he saw a twenty dollar bill half under a newspaper. It was a mess but it would get him home. John looked around, wiping the blood from his mouth. He had no idea where he was or how long he’d been walking, staring at the Todari card. That was something he was going
to have to be careful of in the future.
Again, he was compelled to look down. There was something about the newspaper. He picked it up and looked at it, scanning the headlines. It was the entertainment section of yesterday’s paper. When he hit on it, he knew that all that had just happened—the walking, the mugging, the twenty dollar bill—all of it, had been so he would see this one tiny article.
Ignoring the sounds of the approaching ambulance and the babble of people, he read the first paragraph to himself. “Todari Art Presentation. Professor Raymond Bahl, the foremost expert on painter Rinaldo Todari, will be speaking at the Seattle Art Museum on Tuesday at 8 p.m. This free lecture is open to the public.”
He stopped reading. That’s all he needed to know. Someone at the lecture, probably Professor Bahl, was going to tell him more about the Todari tarot cards. Then he’ll know what to do to get the next one. He walked with slow, pain-filled steps away from the chaos of the accident and waved at an approaching taxi.
John grinned once more, still tasting blood, as the taxi passed him by. It felt good to have a purpose. To know he was meant to do great things. Magic was real, and now he was a part of it.
***
If you enjoyed this story and would like to read more in the Kedrick universe, please check out the Karen Wilson Chronicles Omnibus.