Cards & Consequences: Return of Marlena the Magnificent

By Glenn Shorkey

The use/belief in tarot as an adjunct resource for decisions is a central theme for the primary character, a woman who combines extraordinary physical, intellectual, financial, and spiritual attributes.

After delivering a dramatic Tower clarifying card to Marlena Christies Hopes and Doubts position, the verdict talented Romanian tarot reader Vatche comes to is that whichever God people prayed to truly reigned in the Heavens, a singularly blessed man stood on the cusp of learning what she was willing to alter significant parts of her very desirable life for. Ten days after this major reading, having handled dozens of details involving projects for three art galleries and a jet-set lifestyle, Marlena has left her smart phones on the corporate jet and is parked in a C-level apartment complex, confident about sharpened-to-the-ultimate plans being set into motion.

Marlena is highly motivated and capable of making information into necessary Next Steps in fixing the mistakes of the now almost-thirty year old man she loved, but modesty aside, second chances with a superstar woman will require specific changes and actions!

Initially stunned at the magical doorway appearance of someone whose memory hes mostly erased from his negative life, Eddie Starkes is indeed smart enough to grasp the joyous opportunity represented by this truly magnificent evolution of the gifted and sensual beauty he immediately thinks of as Before Marlena. From the time he exits a highly sexual shower that replays significant events from their intimate history and his personal stupidity, through an attempted mugging and morning after talk that resets the relationship, Eddie deserves credit for displaying the qualities of character, intelligence, and sexuality that originally drew a 5-star great woman like Marlena Victoria Christie.

When he recaps six weeks of togetherness (Poolside Thoughts-- Wet & Wonderful Things), from learning some conversational Italian to winning a celebrity doubles tennis tournament, trysting in unique locations without worrying how she knows about them, and making excellent progress personally and relative to her international art business, its obvious how right Marlena was about returning his good karma to her life.

Corporate accomplishments and living the Truly Good Life take a uniquely different tangent after Marlena introduces Eddie to tarot reading, a powerful and unusual part of her mental arsenal, and they turn to achieving a short but highly rewarding laundry list of art thefts for Marlenas powerful former guardian-now mentor Silas Randson.

Jackson Rommel, a handsome but dangerous gigolo and sociopath from Marlenas childhood, is the answer to continuing appearances of a negative, troubling Knight in her tarot readings, with an equally powerful but unknown link to Eddie. That he rejected, but was spurred to change his own position in life with a minor publisher by Eddies book proposal becomes a dangerous crossing point between four lives.

After Silas interrupts early Travers Race Day reverie with news about violence involving the specific person theyd intended to relieve of a final masterpiece, Marlena, Eddie, and hoops buddy/electronics expert Rahim Maxwell fly back to Louisville to develop plans regarding the catching of whoever might be responsible for the vicious attack on Silas nominal friend. Whether tarot cards are predictive, or if information gained from inspecting what the Universe knows can directly benefit actions becomes moot when a gun-wielding Rommel uses long dormant knowledge of secret passages in the Randson mansion architecture to surprise them.

Rooftop heroics by Eddie, Marlena, and a less-feeble-than-imagined Silas in foiling Rommels long-harbored vengeance, a fabulous necklace again gracing a deserving neck, and the knowledge that while its not necessary, stealing artwork is still an exciting extracurricular activity, are included in the finale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493176557

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Magician

Mastery of special knowledge. Focused energy, ability to harness creative forces, problem solving ability. The time is right to initiate projects because you are master of your destiny; you are able to manipulate the forces of nature to achieve your goals. Take positive action and focus your attention to realize your potential.

I’d like to know something more significant about this area, Marlena Christie’s well-manicured finger indicated an inverted Two of Wands in the Hopes and Fears position of her reading.

His reputation was built on quality of direction and warnings provided, so while Vatche recognized Miss Christie’s readings were always complete and her own psychic strengths considerable, he hesitated for a dozen heartbeats before reaching for the tarot deck, surprised she would ignore major arcana that screamed for attention. Why not clarify an inverted Death card that crowned this spread and suggested an outcome of unwelcome nature, or the also inverted Hierophant of her Immediate Future?

Revealing the image of a Tower being struck by lightening brought a subtle yet definite spectral shift, making every card’s coloration more vivid and alive, transmitting to highly perceptive eyes a sense of progress and excitement rivaling a trapped mining crews breakthrough into breezy, cool, brilliant sunshine. There was an undeniable warmth from the red bandana in his hand, a personal item this special lady always brought, and a physical pressure at his left elbow and thigh, indicating Madame Brittalia was in attendance. Yes, this was dramatic information answering Miss Christie’s much deeper questions, a previously unknown factor essential to her prospects for Success.

The Tower represents a momentous event, an extraordinary bolt from the blue which often heralds swift, shocking, dramatic changes. Perhaps there is a moment of truth, an illuminating flash that sets you free and you say, ‘I see the light!’ There is havoc, and this coming upheaval will force you to rid yourself of false, or even established life structures. You may find yourself altering important relationships in order to learn an important truth about matters you value dearly. Believe in all actions taken accordingly, because they will provide strong, satisfying results, he finished, touching his forehead and mustache with the cloth.

Vatche tilted a flowing mane of raven black hair forward in acceptance of the Tower card’s significance and the emotional message displayed in Marlena’s defiant golden-green eyes.

We see interesting and complex, very likely unique, experiences approaching my dear Miss Christie, events I suspect will not surprise you as completely as they might others. I trust these answers were of assistance in lighting your pathway. Please, give my sincere regards to Silas Randson, and dear Ruby, if you see her soon. Returning the cloth to Marlena as she rose, he accepted an envelopes placement to one side without needing to examine its contents; Miss Christie was always generous.

Although he’d serviced an array of significant patrons these past four years, listening to Marlena Christie’s future was always an incomparable treat, a privilege he truly relished. While his well-regarded abilities provided access and choices among desirable women of all ages, races, and backgrounds, Vatche admired every aspect of her truly honorable beauty most highly.

Her breasts, not overly large but firm and well displayed, were of course impossible to ignore unless one was sightless, but also a face that conveyed considerable intelligence topping a seamless picture; of wonderfully upright carriage topped by impressively square shoulders, those electrifying eyes! and legs so sensuously ideal even the most jaded skirt watcher’s eye would twinkle in appreciation. She also possessed a fluid and intriguingly complex voice, one he’d heard in warm conversation with guests in perhaps seven languages. Though utterly tangential to any description of her intelligence and inner capabilities, he’d never heard her respected position within the fierce and rumor-laden world of art derided as either luck or a result of less than proper sexual conduct.

Four Wands—speaking of romance, foundations, happy achievement and inspiring results—had begun the reading. Despite several cards that signified less advantageous tidings, the Ten of Pentacles was her Destiny card, and there was nothing unusual about that. Messages of prosperity, happiness, success in a major life transition—Miss Christie’s readings inevitably revealed positive endings.

Considering the Moon card that Crossed her and Judgment card which represented her view of Self, then conceding powerful problem-solving abilities and skill in manipulating the world to that Magician card she’d allowed to slip loose while shuffling, made matters absolutely clear: nothing would be denied this woman. If the Moon card spoke of uncertainty and this Tower of confusion or disarray, Miss Christie would still control more than her own future while steering a blazing trail across a Universe that continued to smile on her endeavors. Misgivings or doubts about committing to an important circumstance, whatever negative influences usually attached to the inverted wands she’d wanted clarified—or even the potentially upsetting nature of La Muerte—they were merely challenges to wield her extraordinary abilities against.

Yes, whatever Next came, events would shape themselves around this woman who combined great inner harmony and personal skills in such abundance. Whichever God truly reigned in the Heavens, he imagined a singularly blessed man now stood on the cusp of learning what magnificent Marlena Christie was willing to modify her truly electrifying life arc for.

Chapter 2

Two of Swords (reversed)

Movement, change, renewed action. You have recently made a decision, or circumstances made the decision for you. The stalemate is over, decisions made—now you must wait to see how matters unfold. Strong emotions come to the surface and can be dealt with head-on.

Marlena powered down both car windows, content to acclimate for a few minutes in Charlotte’s brutal late afternoon humidity. She gave herself a silent attagirl! for nailing down a relationship with the highly desirable—if difficult to find—Caribbean soul-man painter Hemingway ‘Shark-Mohn’ Jones yesterday, and scheduling events around five extremely social days at Wimbledon late this morning. Being in the ‘Friends’ box for the men’s semi-finals constituted terrific final icing, because now she was absolutely, smart phones-still-on-the-plane free of any business or required communications that might interfere with her focus here.

From the moment her talented Romanian’s reading revealed that whiplash crack of lightening Tower card until thirty seconds ago, when she’d turned her vintage, granny-apple green Cougar into this C-level apartment complex, had been ten days of continuous, whirlwind action. Long held and sharpened-to-the-ultimate plans were finally being set into motion, and she was confident—even stoked—about that.

Edgar Allan ‘Poe’ Starkes, the man her heart of hearts believed Vatche’s reading had confirmed pursuit of, was entering an apartment building seventy-odd yards away, rubbing a cheek and favoring an ankle after another apparently rough hoops session with Rahim, his Wesley Snipes-like, hard-games-for-cash partner. But, after eight years, eight months, and an assorted number of days and hours without a single kiss or communication, why should he suspect this particular Tuesday would be significantly different or deliver tsunami waves of change?

Confirming the accuracy of photos showing Eddie as thicker bodied was easy from this distance, but if reclaiming a carbon copy of that marvelously sculpted swimmer with whom she’d shared mind-blowing sexuality was somewhere deep down inside desired, Eddie was obviously still up-scale physically. And oh baby! nothing could ever take away my respect for those shoulders or hands.

She recalled extra comments J.G. included in a surveillance report about Eddie: Starkes displays exceptional range and accuracy on his jump shot, is a creative and consistent scorer. Good fakes, excellent passer, gets partner [Rahim] ball in favorite post positions for scoring. Tenacious defender with good footwork, decent rebounder-banger for white guy with only slightly above average size and speed. Not a pussy if things get rough. J.G.’s report also labeled the impressively gifted six-foot-five Rahim Maxwell an absolute force of Nature.

Measuring those she’d been socially or intimately closest with over the last eight-plus years—except for Pitor Schauffleinberg—they’d all either been absurdly self-absorbed about their bodies or indifferent to the softening touches of age and substantial wealth. She epitomized the body as temple both physically and spiritually, her half-marathon and canoe-cycle-run triathlon last year more than adequate proofs about challenging anyone in the high-end athletics department. She’d never bought into the attitude of glory boy bodies, but along with all of Eddie’s sweet muscles and intellectual stimulation came an ability to articulate his dreamer-doers humanity. Wanting to become the central reason for Eddie’s Inspiring and Goodness in life, to share that wonderful combination—and a scary-good unspoken communication that turned cuddling into a personal porthole to so much more—had flooded her being from Day One.

Memories of two superbly trained bodies, linked night after soul-searing night in sweaty, full-throttle passions surpassing even those fantasies teenage Marlena had conjured while reading romance novels, caused a shiver despite an already noticeable warmth in the car. As a partner, Eddie’s creative sexuality and adventurous spirit had been ideal, and during those hours, days, fifteen months! of intense, mind-altering intimacy, his total physical and emotional giving over to their Us-es had been skipping-in-the-rain beautiful.

Eddie, man of my heart, for every kiss and loving touch we ever shared babe, I swear there’s still ten more you’ll want me to lay on you.

No retinue of lawyers, servants, well-meaning friends, not even Silas Randson’s powerful influence, could insulate today’s immediate emotional strain though. If this reunion somehow failed there’d be no more adoring Pitor either, and a sense of loss about that aspect was more than legitimate.

She’d believed her soul-mate’s arrival was imminent after that first tarot experience, when Madame Brittalia proved so knowing about her future with Eddie; similar positive joy had seemed possible with Pitor’s entrance into her professional world, his polite but definitive intervention rescuing her from a fawning artist wanna-be and cow of a girlfriend. The saving, accomplished with an electric touch of direction above her elbow and intensely focused questions regarding professional appraisal of pieces in his family’s collection, had proven too much for the wanna-be and cow to consider interrupting. Insightful personal narratives exchanged during that evening’s cocktails and stylishly flirtatious companionship had progressed into a profitable commission to evaluate a magnificent amount of artwork, then rapidly and naturally evolved beyond professional respect into something truly ooo-lah-lah romantic.

As a man Pitor was complete—fabulous as any Armani model either clothed or au naturale, he handled business matters profitably from corporate printouts scanned and personal contacts questioned, always called well in advance if an upcoming adventure might interest her. Individually and silently they’d committed to rules about exclusivity beyond don’t ask-don’t tell, but only once had she permitted herself to remain with him longer than six days. Opportunities to watch him triumph had been frequent: a celebrity tennis tournament here, a solid offensive eight for several polo clubs there, his third consecutive yachting trophy as club champion. An outstanding kisser, capable of whispering the highest quality of sweetness in seven languages and delivering in all of them, he was the epitome of thoughtfulness and intelligence in all respects, proud possessor of a symphony musician’s practiced precision in fingers that played upon her smoothly, articulately, in endlessly delightful ways.

Yes, Pitor Schauffleinberg was a true prince and gentleman, a wonderfully low-maintenance and highly rewarding companion with only two discernible flaws—a slight if definite lisp and the misfortune to be judged against an overwhelming first love.

Impressive as everything about Pitor was—GOD yes! on impressive maleness—thoughts of forgetting Eddie Starkes and exchanging a college teenager’s fleeting satisfaction for life beside a modern prince had been complicated by daytime reveries and vividly passionate dreams for weeks. She appreciated the classic way in which Pitor handled her decision, asking only for their final nights to be unforgettable, knew she would carry a lasting fondness for his knight-like gallantry and sophistication mixing so easily with fun and sexuality. The Universe’s ultimate answer about accepting an Eddie-less future, delivered through a Magician and lightening bolt of change, was a lesson that choices were seldom simple or perfectly fair; sometimes the Universe demanded proof up front about specifically how much one was prepared to pay for desirable dreams.

Her right cheek dimpled briefly, an irony regarding knightly character flashing provocatively. In that long-ago reading where her eyes were originally opened to additional powers of enlightenment by Madame Brittalia, as well as three previous readings with Vatche, there’d always been a knight in that Hopes and Fears position. A knight ten days ago might even have been strong enough confirmation to be tanning someplace exotic with Pitor versus glistening in Charlotte.

She admitted that attempting to simultaneously gain answers to strongly linked but very different situations was the cause of Vatche’s confusion during their recent reading, because historically his readings matched her reality. Going in, Four Wands and the question of an exquisitely happy life with semi-prince Pitor would have been a correct interpretation, but from the Death card onward she’d been reading events with an Eddie point of view.

Having always recognized Vatche’s powers as an extension of Madame Brittalia, she couldn’t help but regard both his delivering dramatic awareness of Eddie’s legal problems and simultaneously confirming Madame’s specific decade-old inverted Knight warning card regarding interference at the time of that fiasco highly—she’d been within a day of coming into his life nearly four months earlier because of that arrest over cocaine belonging to the boss’ son being found in his dealership demo. The Romanian’s ability to discern differences between Pitor’s ‘good knight’ and the dark, still shadowy influence of a sword-wielding knight in another reading wasn’t defined as well as desired, but Ruby Traylor’s original glowing introduction and comments about "a friend who provided tremendous information and service" had definitely proven true.

Of course, she’d immediately suspected Ruby’s version of service meant they’d shared more than psychic connections; Ruby wasn’t shy about discussing how she exercised their open marriage as regularly as Waldo, her debonair if lecherous husband of twenty-eight years, did. But that was another whole story.

That drug bust was the farthest point in her Haley’s Comet voyage around Eddie’s life, and maybe now he understood having money wasn’t such a bad thing. If there’d been some cash in the ol’ account, Eddie could’ve gotten a better lawyer than that yutz McGlocklin. He’d only avoided total disaster when Goldstein’s father agreed—with substantial input from her intermediary—to contribute enough money to clear the situation without extra hoo-ha. She’d watched out for Eddie with eagle eyes since, feeling guilty because Pitor’s welcome attention had allowed years of well-controlled effort to loosen at a crucial time.

Why the hell it took a tarot reader to learn about those legal problems after investing major dollars in everything else still angered her, but strong, deeply held beliefs about their Before had clawed back from unintended neglect. Comparing his current rental agent job and that used car gig, well, she was done with any further purgatory of waiting. Eddie’s life somehow evolving into prettier or more elevated planes without her simply wasn’t how things were going to go from here—that Tower card made Now her time.

Anticipating how years of good intentions would play out in a very immediate future, Marlena considered major events along the time line that constituted their relationship.

Freedom from St. Benedict’s Preparatory School, soaking up artwork of the ages and sampling the nightlife of Europe was an absolute beginning; discovering a garishly painted Gypsy fortune-teller’s wagon and Madame Brittalia, enlightening her about powers after pronouncing her a Believer, a beginning of a previously unimaginable kind. Only Eddie’s inexplicable rejection of her wealth and love ever impacted her to a greater extent than Madame’s measured tones in explaining the cards spread before a young heiress that hot August afternoon a decade earlier.

Believer? Certainly truer than Miss Smarty-Smart could’ve known.

Their initial meeting at the Thompson Quad pool, when she’d seen that Celestine Prophecy glow about him on the high dive brought a smile, as did the acme of happy togetherness reached with his ‘Special’ poetry and ankle bracelet the night of her 19th birthday. That Eddie blew their relationship, and every plan she’d made to share a perpetual greatness of life with him, into smithereenies after she’d told him about her millions brought a scowl. The insane desperation she’d felt the last time they’d been together, his ludicrous alternative to all she’d offered from the bottomless depths of loving soul, registered as electric green in her eyes.

The lowest lows were immediately after some momentous or otherwise joyful event—the sparkling adventure of carnivale in Buenos Aires; that soul bursting with pride moment after cutting the entrance ribbon during her always-imagined stupendous first gallery opening; a semi-lonely 21st birthday amid some two hundred family friends at Silas’ estate—when whoever she was sharing it with wasn’t her promised-by-the-Universe-to-be-beside-her Poe.

Five years of periodic surveillance reports about Eddie’s lifestyle and actions weren’t facts she was proud of or especially happy about. Commissioned through professionals ‘Uncle’ Silas frequently utilized, they’d been somewhat expensive if budget had mattered, but with the clear exception of the drug bust situation, normally delivered the levels of information she’d desired. She’d suffered with the knowledge of situations gone wrong for him, accepted accurate but impersonal descriptions of ladies Eddie spent time with, and yes, offered certain incentives to several regarding distant and, sans Eddie, potentially greener pastures.

Not all had required such encouragement, but wasn’t that what money could do, was meant for, to learn what one needed to know and smooth over obstacles? There was nothing gratifying or noble about the process, but Edward Christie’s directions as remembered by an adoring daughter had been definitive: Determine an acceptable price for anything, then never hesitate or complain about paying that full amount in time, effort, or treasure. Only Pam Wasniski, a lower class but realistic and genuinely likable woman, had negotiated anything beyond her initial cash offer to leave Eddie behind, and she was running a profitable little dude ranch in Wyoming now. Results always counted, but when you were bidding with your heart, deep pockets, and Destiny’s secrets in the back of your mind, overpaying occasionally wasn’t a problem.

Long before defining any concrete plans, the reason for the looking and check writing was easy: their lost relationship was a mistake, and historically-speaking, twenty-one year old men made tons of mistakes. Redeeming one such man’s particularly disastrous mistake was far from impossible though—applying reasonable effort and economic solutions had moved matters to this jumping-off point quite successfully. In her to-the-bottom-line thinking, failure simply wasn’t an option now. Not having prayed every prayer, patiently waited while every nerve screamed for action, paid every imaginable price mentally, physically, and financially.

Sitting on her white wicker thinking couch during hours of deep-breathing meditation and yoga, the possibility of Eddie’s pride derailing that long-promised and still desired future had been overcome repeatedly. Now, so physically close to reclaiming an almost beyond doubt Destiny, she acknowledged the negatives lurking in ‘almost beyond’ for a second.

Pride was a tricky thing. Whatever beating Eddie’s had taken over the years, he needed to comprehend just how strong this connection of theirs was, that second chances of the caliber she was about to deliver required specific changes and decisions. Being a world-wise, undeniably successful, still shy of twenty-nine woman compared to the nineteen-year-old heiress who’d worried about causing a lover to miss becoming whatever he imagined he should be, well, except for plentiful cash, things were light-years different for her. The prospect of dealing with an ego that stupidly rejected a lifestyle few would have dreamed of dissing if the opportunity arose in their lives, well, he had to be different.

True, few would have seen this opportunity in an inverted Death crowning card, but going in thinking she held the Salvation Chip could derail years of personal and financial effort. Remember his pride, be prepared to stroke it when necessary, was the crystal clear mantra she kept uppermost.

Calmly squeezing lightly-greened eyelids closed, she sent out a short, intense prayer about today truly becoming all Vatche’s cards portended. Checking her classic high cheek-boned face and auburn streaked hair in the rear view mirror, she powered the windows up and opened the door, swiveling stylishly sandaled tan feet onto a sun-baked parking lot. Taking a last look at the restored Cougar’s gleaming green exterior and getting a chirp for locked, she tucked the keys into her Prada and set course across the parking lot for Eddie’s building.

She wasn’t oblivious to appreciative glances from two shirtless post-college hunks jogging past for her model-quality legs, well displayed beneath a short magenta skirt. Photographed on many occasions by paparazzi, the facial features topping a tanned, lean-curvy five-foot-seven frame also received such attention. Beginning final approach heading, she was charged to the maximum, all elements physically and mentally ‘locked and loaded’ as a Marine colonel once commented about her concentration level.

Her Universe was centered on 4411 North Sharon Road. Down a flight of stairs, behind a green steel door with its number 2, was everything that mattered this amazing opportunity of a Tuesday—Edgar Allan Starkes, her Poe, a very, very, very lucky man.

Chapter 3

The Fool

The beginning of a journey, a leap into the unknown, a surprising solution, start of an adventure, significant and unexpected circumstances. Purity of action, a new phase of life, taking a risk, trust in a higher power. Pure potential, all things are possible. This suggests a need to take a risk with childlike optimism.

Driving through the Black Forest, sipping glasses of well-chilled Liebframulich and snacking through a prepared lunch while replaying previous adventures, their discovering a Gypsy fortune-teller’s garishly painted wagon had seemed outrageously appropriate, the opportunity to know their futures as predicted by a true Gypsy perfectly framed by Frannie in rich girl perspective once they stopped—"How much is forty euros really?"

Beyond Mass at St. Benedicts and a handful of giggly Ouija board sessions they really had no spiritual experiences, but Madame Brittalia, the well-preserved Gypsy who read their fortunes, impressed Marlena deeply. After Antoinette and