Chapter Four
Over a week has passed, and Victor is working with his friends Amber and Elliott on a flight to New York. Their coworker is lazy and complains about everything. While Amber and Elliott had to work in coach with the grumpy flight attendant, Victor works in the front as the lead flight attendant.
While Victor cleans up the galley after finishing the meal service, Amber comes up to help him. Amber grunts as she walks into the galley. “I swear to God, I can’t wait for this trip to be over already. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with her.” Amber says aggressively.
“You want me to tell her the wrong pick-up time for tomorrow?” Victor jokes.
Elliott walks into the galley and closes the curtain behind him. “FUCK!” he groans softly enough so the passengers don’t hear him. “Are we there yet? I don’t think I can deal with that bitch in the back. I can’t even get around the galley because she’s got shit all over the place.”
“This is why I don’t cross the cabin line,” Victor smirks.
“That woman is getting on our last nerves,” Elliott continues. “I had to hold Amber back before we started to service.”
Amber nods, “Oh yeah, I was about to shake her like a British nanny just to get her to pay attention to what the hell she was doing back there. You should have seen the galley before we took off. She had the soda drawers and snacks everywhere.”
“I was about to punch her in the thyroid,” Elliott moans as he crosses his arms and leans against the counter.
Victor chuckles a little. “Don’t worry; we have another hour at the most. Just try your best to avoid going back there.”
Suddenly, they hear footsteps coming up the aisle, which weren’t coming from a passenger.
These footsteps are a disgruntled woman going through menopause who has a sense of entitlement.
She flings open the galley curtain, pushes her way into the galley where Victor and his friends are standing, and proceeds to open the carts while ignoring them.
“Can I help you find something, Cheryl?” Victor asks as politely as he can muster.
Cheryl huffs, “There’s no more food?”
Victor cocks his eyebrow at the spectacle in front of him. “Everyone ate. So, no, there isn’t anything left over.”
She gives a disgusted look as she huffs and puffs and leaves.
Amber has a look as if her eyes are about to pop out of her head, and she gestures with her hands, expressing her frustration. “This is what I’m talking about! How are we supposed to deal with her for one more day?”
Victor continues to put things away, “We only have one last flight tomorrow with her. And it’ll be a quick early morning flight. Once we get home, we can go day drinking at drag brunch.”
“Tomorrow isn’t getting here quickly enough,” Amber responds as she leaves.
Elliott looks down the aisle as Amber walks away. “So, what happened back in that tarot reading place?”
“What are you talking about?” Victor asks, busying himself by wiping down the counter in the galley.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Elliott insists. “That Madame Jean or Jeanette was reading your fortune, and you just froze. You didn’t say a word when you looked down at the cards.”
Victor tries to come up with a response to Elliott. “It was nothing. I think I was getting a slight headache from all that incense and tobacco smoke. I just wanted to get out of there.”
Elliott gives Victor a side-eyed glance, moving out of the way of Victor’s cleaning, “I’m not so sure about that. You saw something.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victor says.
Frustrated, Elliott lightly slams his hand on the counter. “Oh, come on, Vic. Don’t act dumb. I know you can read tarot. What did you see?”
“It was nothing,” Victor snaps back. “She acted like she knew how to read cards but was doing parlor tricks to freak out tourists.”
Elliott sighs in annoyance toward Victor.
“Seriously, bro? You’re going to act like you don’t know what you saw?
” He moves closer to Victor and lowers his voice.
“I remember you froze and paid close attention to what was laid out. Then she laid down two more cards without saying a word. You tried your best to hold back your expression, but you saw something.”
Victor slams one of the carts shut while looking at Elliott. “Look, just let it go. I was annoyed, that’s all.”
“If you say so,” Elliott says begrudgingly as he leaves the galley and heads back to coach.
A few days later, Victor lies in bed in his hotel room.
He hasn’t been able to fall asleep all night and will need to wake up in an hour to get ready for his flight home.
As he tosses and turns, trying to get comfortable, he lets out a disgruntled sigh.
The conversation he had with Elliott the other day continues to weigh on his mind.
He knew Elliott was right about his reaction to the cards.
But Victor was too stubborn to admit it.
Victor reaches over and grabs his phone off the nightstand. Bored out of his mind, he looks through Facebook and Instagram to see what annoying posts his fellow flight attendants are ranting about.
“They sent an email about that two days ago,” he says out loud. “Read your emails, and maybe you won’t rant. But then again, someone’s going to bitch about it.”
Once annoyed with Facebook, he starts looking to see if he can trade any of his upcoming trips.
Scrolling through the trade board, he notices a trip available with a layover in New Orleans.
Victor pauses for a moment and stares at his phone.
He scrunches his face while scratching at his beard as he contemplates the trip.
Something inside is telling him he needs to go back to New Orleans.
Another part is telling him he should just forget about it and move on.
Victor stares at the screen for a few minutes before he makes a decision. He taps on the trade button, adding the trip to his schedule.
A week later, Victor arrives back in New Orleans at the Marriott with a crew he’s never flown with. While in the elevator, one of the male flight attendants asks, “Hey Vic, we’re going to head out tonight. You want to join us?”
Victor turns to acknowledge him, “I’m good. Thank you, though. I’m not feeling well. I think I will order room service and call it an early night.”
Luckily, Victor’s room is on a different floor from the rest of his crew.
He leaves the elevator and heads to his room without looking back.
After quickly changing out of his uniform, Victor makes his way back down to the lobby.
He quickly dashes through the lobby, hoping not to run into anyone on his crew.
The man is on a mission, and that is to meet up with Madame Jeanette.
As Victor walks down the streets, retracing the steps he remembered to where Madame Jeanette resided, a tall Latin man rests against a post outside a gift store.
He has a masculine jawline, a five o’clock shadow, and thick, dark, wavy hair.
He’s wearing tan khaki shorts and a light green button-up shirt with the top half open enough to expose his lightly hairy chest and tattoo.
The man pretends to be tapping away at his phone as he observes Victor walk down the street.
Victor is so preoccupied with remembering where to go that he doesn’t notice the man.
Victor finds his way and approaches Madame Jeanette’s door.
The door opens a crack as soon as he is about to touch the doorknob.
The door creaks as he lets himself in. The bell on the doorframe rings when the door hits it.
Victor looks around as the scent of incense fills the air, causing him to crinkle his nose.
“Hello?” Victor says loudly as he walks deeper into the room.
As he looks around, he notices that many more candles are lit, and the lights are dimmer than the last time he visited.
Before he could close the door, a light breeze passes by Victor, causing the candles to flicker and the door to slam shut.
Victor jumps slightly from the slamming door, and the wind chimes in the little shop off to the side clank loudly.
Victor calms himself and clears his throat as he continues further into Madame Jeanette’s place.
“Hello? Madame Jeanette?” Victor calls out into the empty room.
There is no answer, but he walks farther inside.
The sounds of cards shuffling slowly grow louder as Victor gets closer to the room with the table.
He turns the corner and sees Madame Jeanette with cards in hand.
Madame Jeanette doesn’t look at Victor as he approaches. “Well, hello again, birthday boy. What brings me the honor of this visit?”
Victor pauses for a moment before he walks over and takes a seat at the round table across from Madame Jeanette. “I don’t know why I’m here. But something keeps going around in my head about the day my friends and I were here.”
Madame Jeanette takes a puff from her pipe and exhales. “Are you talking about the cards?” she asks suspiciously.
Victor swallows a little. “Yes.”
Madame Jeanette finally turns to Victor and smiles wickedly, “Well then, why don’t we talk about the cards?” She turns to a credenza behind her and removes another deck of tarot cards from the drawer. As she turns around, she slides the deck over to Victor. The deck stops just inches from Victor.
Madame Jeanette removes her pipe from her lips and rests her elbow on the table. “What would you like to know?”
Victor looks at the deck. “I was wondering . . .” he pauses, still entranced by the box, “. . . why was my reading so accurate but my friends’ weren’t?”
She gives him a little smirk, “Whatever do you mean, chéri?”
“You read my friends’ palms correctly; I’ll give you that.
But when you started reading their cards, you were misinterpreting them.
” Victor breaks his trance and looks up at Madame Jeanette.
“When you looked at me, however, it was like you immediately knew what was happening in my life. And as I was leaving, you threw down two more cards. The coincidence of those two appearing the way they did is improbable.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you saw? Or better yet, why don’t you read my cards?” She gestures to the deck, still sitting in front of him. The box looks untouched and new. “You seem to know your way around the tarot. Go on. Try them out. They’ve been waiting for someone to touch them.”
Victor hesitates as he reaches for the deck. “I . . . I don’t lay the cards out the way that you do.”
“That’s fine, chéri. You read them however you feel is right to you.” She smiles at Victor as she takes another drag from her pipe.
Victor opens the box and slides the cards into his hand. The edges are smooth, and the cards retain their glossy appearance. “These are new. Am I the first person to use them?”
“That you are.” Madame Jeanette leans back while delicately holding her pipe to her lips.
Victor hesitates, “I don’t know; these are your cards. I shouldn’t be touching them.”
“Go on, feel the cards in your hand,” Madame Jeanette advises. “Let them be shuffled and start enjoying what lies inside them.”
Victor starts shuffling while focusing his attention on the cards. Then, he looks up into Madame Jeanette’s eyes. He starts feeling something, but he doesn’t know what it is. He feels his stomach start turning. But he keeps shuffling.
Victor begins laying the cards on the table as he continues looking at Madame Jeanette.
He places the first two cards down, one crossing on top of the other.
He then places one card on each side of the first two, one above and one below.
He sets the rest of the cards aside. Victor notices that the “Death” card is on top of “The Devil” card.
Many people would come to their own conclusions as to what these two cards represent.
But Victor knew, by the thumping of his heart, that those interpretations were correct.
Madame Jeanette leans forward on the table and asks, “Do you fear something, chéri?”
Victor blinks a few times before he answers, “I . . . I don’t understand the question.”
“Do you fear something?” She repeats. “ I can hear your heart beating out of your chest. What is it that you see? Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid that this was a mistake? What’s making you afraid?”
Victor can’t speak at this point. The words are in his mouth, but he can’t let them out. He doesn’t feel afraid, but he’s unsure of himself right now. He wants to run, but he doesn’t. He wants to cry, but he can’t. He can’t decide if he wants to leave and never come back or to stay and learn more.