The Four Queens of Tarot

This story won second place in Dear Diary’s short fiction contest, Four Queens. The contest is part of a five month event series called X Y Zine.

Written by Rebecca Bendheim

My sister Sasha is wearing a purple feather boa to Mother’s Day brunch. She is not five. She’s twenty-one. And she has one in every color.

“So the next part of my grand plan…” Sasha says in a bad British accent, “is dependent on you, Riley.”

I raise my eyebrows at her.

“When you start at UT in the Fall,” Sasha continues. “You can introduce me to the social chairs of all the clubs and sororities. When they have events, they can hire me to read tarot!”

Mom smacks her lips.

“Sasha,” she says, in a voice that sounds like a sigh. “Your sister will be busy next year with swim team and studying economics. If she has any extra time, I’m sure she’ll be using it to meet nice young men.”

Mom winks at me, sending a wave of nausea through my body. I have to tell them. This is my moment. I open my mouth and—

“Riley won’t have time to help you with your fun little… hobby,” Mom continues.

All the Sasha-ness drains out of my sister’s eyes, but she blinks once, hard, and it’s back.

“This is serious, Mom,” Sasha says. “If you’d let me do just one reading on you, you’d see. I have a gift for this. It’s what I’m meant to do. For once, I feel like I’m actually good at something and you—”

Thankfully, before Mom can get into her tarot is devil worship speech, the food arrives: a salad with salmon for Mom, blueberry French toast for me, and grilled cheese with tomato soup for Sasha.

“So, Riley,” Mom says. “Joel’s mother told me that he was accepted to UT as well. Maybe you two will be able to reconnect.”

“Mommmm!” Sasha practically screams, rattling Mom’s cocktail glass. “You’ve got to get over the Joel thing. They broke up in ninth grade! That was four years ago! I swear it’s like you were the one who dated him.”

I breathe in.

“Mom, Sasha, I have to—“

“Three years ago,” Mom corrects. “No wonder you didn’t make it through college.”

Sasha rolls her eyes and twists toward Mom, and then, I watch in almost slow motion as one end of her boa flies across her body, skips across her bowl of soup, and flings hot, red liquid right onto Mom’s face and dress.

“That’s IT,” Mom yells, wiping the soup off her face with one shaking hand. “We’re leaving.”

She stomps off toward the door. Sasha and I look at each other, wide-eyed.

“I’ll send a check in the mail,” Mom says to the high school aged waiter, who probably doesn’t even know what a check is.

I get into the passenger seat so Sasha and Mom can be as far away as possible.

“We’re still going to Barton Springs, right?” I ask.

No one says anything. My still-empty stomach churns. I only got to have three bites of my French toast. And they were syrup-less because the waiter didn’t even have time to bring it.

“Carmen’s meeting us there,” I remind Mom.

Carmen has two dads. I have one mom. So when she and I became best friends in third grade, we decided that I should celebrate Father’s Day with her and she should celebrate Mother’s Day with me. But next year Carmen will be at Stanford, and I don’t know if she’ll come home in time for Mother’s Day. So this might be the last time we do it. This summer might be the last time Carmen and I do a lot of things.

“It’s tradition,” Sasha says, helping me out.

“Fine,” Mom mutters. “I need to get this goop off my face somehow.”

She makes an illegal U-turn, flashing our lives before our eyes. A few minutes later, we’re circling the Barton Springs back entrance parking lot. Sasha and Mom look for parking spots and curse motorcycles for taking up full spaces. I squint my eyes at the bike rack, searching for Carmen’s yellow bike. It’s not there yet.

But once we take another loop, I see her ride up on the path. She’s in a white strappy tank top and my favorite jean shorts, her blue bag with tassels on it that she got in Mexico City slung over her shoulder. Her hair is loose and extra wavy, billowing behind her. I roll down my window.

“Carmen!” I shout. “Over here!”

Carmen squeezes her breaks tight, skidding on the dirt. She smiles up at us.

“Let Riley out, Mom,” Sasha says. “They can meet us in there.”

I raise my eyebrows at Sasha again. She nods. Mom stops the car. I get out and look back at my sister omnt he other side of the fingerprint-tinged window. I can’t believe she’s taking Mom’s parking lot rage alone just so I can have a little extra time with Carmen. I mouth “Thank you.” Then I run over to the bike rack where Carmen’s spinning her lock.

I hug her from the side.

“Brunch was horrible!” I say. “I wish you were there!”

She finishes with the lock and turns to me, hugging me back.

“You wish I had to go to a horrible brunch?” She asks, smiling.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean, I don’t know. I just wish you’d seen it. Mom started talking about Joel and Sasha got tomato soup in her EYE!”

“She what? On purpose?” Carmen says, laughing.

A lifeguard scans our passes and we walk toward our favorite spot near the biggest tree.

“It looked like an accident, but you never know with Sasha,” I say.

“A true ally,” Carmen says.

We walk the next few steps in silence. I lay out Mom’s picnic blanket and sit down. Carmen sits next to me, but not too close.

“I haven’t told her yet,” I say.

“That’s okay,” Carmen says quickly. She sits up and catches my eye. “Really. You can tell them whenever you’re ready.”

“I am ready!” I say. “There’s just… when Mom and Sasha are together, there’s just not a lot of space. To say anything, not just that.”

Carmen touches her thumb to mine. She starts quietly singing “Space Girl,” one of our songs. I look over to the entrance. Mom and Sasha are walking in. Carmen moves her hand back to her side of the blanket and we watch them make their way toward us.

Mom is in a giant floppy hat and her long white caftan dress, tomato sauce strewn across it like blood. Sasha is still wearing the sauce-dipped boa, though this time around her head like a workout headband. She’s holding an overflowing bag of towels in one hand and four tarot decks stacked in the other.

“I think I get what you mean,” Carmen says, “about those two together.”

Sasha drops one of her decks onto an unsuspecting man tanning in a speedo. We both crack up, but I still feel a little shaky inside. Carmen told her dads about us last June, before we were even official. It’s been almost a year.

“Well hello beautiful people!” Sasha says, pulling her long skirt and Mom-approved blouse off so she’s just in a purple bikini.

She lays down on her back in the space between Carmen and me.

“Swim first or tarot first?” She asks.

“Why don’t we just relax,” Mom says, laying out a plush towel next to the blanket.

“Okay then tarot first!” Sasha says.

Mom sits down on her towel and crosses her legs.

“It’s Mother’s Day,” she says to Sasha.

“I know,” Sasha says. “Happy Mother’s Day! Did you want to hear it again? Great. Okay, who wants to go first?”

“It’s Mother’s Day,” Mom repeats, “and I don’t want to spend my day hearing one more thing about this nonsense.”

Carmen looks at me in the corner of her eye. It’s so much better having her here.

“Just one reading,” Sasha begs. “I won’t do yours; I’ll do Riley’s. Then I’ll shut up about it for the rest of the day. Please? Don’t you want a reading, Riley?”

Carmen raises one eyebrow at me. Her whole family can do that. No one in mine can.

“Uh, yeah,” I say.

Mom gives me a look like stop lying. But I’m not lying. I don’t know if I believe in tarot, but I do believe in my sister.

“I want one,” I say, looking right at Mom.

“Well okay then,” Mom says.

Sasha jumps up, beaming, and takes one of her decks out of its box. Mom puts her sunglasses on and gets a thick book out of her purse.

“What do you want a reading on?” Sasha asks me. “Career? Friendship? Spiritual Life? Loooovve?”

“Do love,” Mom says, from where she is pretending not to pay attention. “Do Riley’s future dating life at UT.”

Carmen raises her eyebrow at me again, but higher. I should say something. Right now.

“Love!” Sasha yells. “Perfect. Let’s do it.”

It’s too late.

Sasha sits crisscross, right in front of me. Her legs shake just a little, probably because we can all see Mom watching from behind her sunglasses. Sasha takes a long breath, then closes her eyes and shuffles the cards slowly. It’s impressive coordination for someone who got a bloody nose twice in one year of middle school P.E. class. She opens her eyes and stares right into mine, like she’s looking for something in them. I try not to blink. Then she puts the stack down on the blanket, and with one hand, fans out the whole deck in a long line of cards. It’s weird. She doesn’t look like my sister right now. She looks like some sort of magician.

She considers the cards for what feels like forever, her hands floating above them like she’s waiting for some special energy. Finally, she picks one and puts it face down in front of me. She picks three more the same way and arranges them like a pyramid, three on the bottom and one above them.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

Am I? I don’t know.

“Get on with it,” Mom says.

Sasha flips them over. The first one is a woman sitting in a throne above some clouds, holding a giant sword. “Queen of Swords” is written in old timey writing at the bottom. The second is a woman in a similar throne, but there are wreaths of flowers below her and she’s holding a circle with a star inside it. It says, “Queen of Pentacles.” The third is a woman in a blue dress, her throne at the edge of a body of water. It says, “Queen of Cups.” Sasha’s hand hovers over the last card. She turns it over slowly, peaking underneath. Her mouth drops. She places it face up in front of me. The fourth one is another woman in a throne holding a stick and a giant sunflower, a black cat at her feet. It says, “Queen of Wands.”

Sasha stares at the cards. She looks up at me, then down at the cards again.

“What?” I say, my voice wobbly. “Is it saying I’m gonna, like, die tomorrow?”

Sasha shakes her head fast.

“No,” she says. “It’s just. All four queens. That’s super rare. I’ve never seen it happen, ever.”

I smell Mom’s perfume next to me. She has scooted onto the blanket and is squinting down at the cards too.

“Four queens,” Mom says.

“What does it mean?” Carmen asks.

“Well for one,” Sasha says. “It’s a shit ton of feminine energy.”

Mom smirks. “How are you gonna spin that to be about Riley’s dating life?” She asks.

Carmen’s hand flies to her mouth. My stomach flops. Sasha looks at me and back at the cards again.

“I… I don’t know,” Sasha says.

Mom eyes her from above her glasses.

“A gift, huh?” Mom says to Sasha.

Then she turns to Carmen and me and says, “See, it’s all made up.”

Carmen nudges my shoulder. I open my mouth to say something. But then Sasha stands up, wobbly on her feet. She leaves the cards on the ground and stalks down the hill, away from us. Then, without doing any of her get used to the water ritual, she dives into the spring.

“I’m gonna check on her,” I say, peeling off my light pink, Mom-approved dress to reveal my swim team one piece.

Carmen grabs my hand but I shake it off and run down the hill, skidding on mud, trying to keep my eye on the dot of purple that is my sister. I dive in after her. The cool water jolts my insides, taking my breath. I come up and scan the water’s surface. Sasha’s not too far off. I take a deep breath and settle into a front crawl. I reach her faster than I expected. She’s breathing fast.

“Wall,” she says, and I follow her to the concrete wall where she grabs onto the metal bar.

“Sasha,” I say, shaking the water out of my ears. “It wasn’t—“

“Mom’s right,” Sasha says, through quick breaths. “That spread meant nothing to me. I couldn’t figure it out. I--“

“Sasha!” I say.

“I suck at tarot,” she continues. “I suck at college and sports and going to brunch and maybe everything.”

“Sasha! Stop!”

“Thank god Mom has you or else her whole family would just—“

I pool a bunch of water in my hands and fling it onto Sasha’s face.

“Listen to me!” I yell.

Sasha leans back like I slapped her. A few people around us turn and stare.

“I’m… sorry,” Sasha says, her voice tiny.

“I’m a lesbian,” I say. “I’m dating Carmen.”

Of course now Sasha’s silent. I try to read her eyes, but they’re blank.

“The four queens,” I explain. “The ‘shit ton’ of feminine energy. Your reading was right.”

Sasha’s forehead scrunches up. She looks me up and down. My stomach starts to churn. Then she pushes herself off the bar and wraps her arms around my shoulders in a hug, pulling me down. I kick my legs to keep my head above the water.

“Oh my god,” Sasha says. “Oh my god. I’m so happy. You and Carmen. Thanks for telling me. Oh my god. AH! I love you.”

“You’re drowning me,” I say.

But I almost wish she would stay. Sasha knows. And she’s happy. Of course she is. Why did I think this would be so hard? She pulls away and swims to the ladder. Then she sits down on the edge, smiling at her half-dunked feet. I pull myself up next to her.

“Now we can tell Mom and she’ll know that you’re a tarot genius!” I say.

I love how the sun feels on my cheeks.

“You don’t have to tell her just ‘cause of me,” Sasha says. “We can wait till you’re ready. Mom’s gonna think tarot’s evil no matter what.”

“No,” I say. My voice comes out strong. “I’m ready to tell her.”

Sasha follows me up the hill to Mom and Carmen. Mom is telling Carmen something and gesturing toward her book. Carmen’s nodding but watching us out of the corner of her eye.

“You got this,” Sasha says.

I breathe in. My nose fills with sunscreen and pecan trees. I take three more big steps until I’m standing over them.

“Mom,” I say. “I’m a lesbian. I’m dating Carmen. So the four queens make sense.”

Mom’s glasses fall off her face. She doesn’t pick them up. She looks from me to Carmen and back again.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn’t realize.”

Carmen’s wide eyes meet mine. I give her a small smile. I have no clue what Mom’s thinking, but for some reason, I don’t feel like that matters right now. I said it. It’s done. I sit down next to Carmen, touching my knee to hers. We sit there for awhile.

“So if each of us were one of the four queens,” Carmen asks, breaking the silence. “Which ones would we be?”

“Sasha?” I say. “You’re the expert.”

Sasha looks over at Mom. Mom doesn’t say anything.

“Carmen,” Sasha begins. “I think you’d be The Queen of Swords. Smart with big goals, going to Stanford next year. The Queen of Swords is the intellectual one.”

Carmen smiles my favorite Carmen smile, closed mouth, showing her dimple. But the Stanford part taints it. It’s just so far away.

“I’m the Queen of Cups,” Sasha continues. “Emotional. Creative. The water queen. Prone to floating away. And Riley, you’re the Queen of Pentacles, the grounded one. Because you’re our rock.”

“So true,” Carmen says, and then we all turn to Mom.

“That leaves the Queen of Wands,” Sasha says. “She’s the fiery one. Independent. She can do anything.”

Sasha looks Mom right in the eye.

“That’s you.”

Mom nods.

“Thanks,” she says. “You know, I’ve never done tarot before. But your father and I had our palms read once. The woman said out paths wouldn’t cross forever. A week or so later, he told me he wanted a divorce.”

“Really?” I said. “You never told us!”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Mom snaps. “It sounds ridiculous! We divorced because a palm reader said we weren’t meant to be.”

“Well,” Sasha says, “To me, palm reading and tarot don’t make the future. They just bring the truth to light.”

I watch Mom, waiting for her angry lip smack. But it doesn’t come.

“I think you’re right,” Mom says.

Sasha practically jumps off the blanket.

“Really?” She says. “Do you want a reading then?”

Mom laughs.

“Next time,” she says. “Right now I just want to relax.”

“Okay,” Sasha says. “It’s your day.”

She lays down next to Mom.

“We’re gonna go on a walk,” I tell them.

I stand up and pull Carmen up with me. We walk down the hill and along the side of the pool.

“So the cards were about the fall,” I say. “My dating life.”

“Yeah,” Carmen says. “Four queens. You getting with a bunch of different girls?”

I stop and look at her.

“Is that what you want?” I ask.

“Is that what you want?” Carmen asks back.

Her cheeks flush.

“No,” I say. “I just want you. Even if we’re far away. But it’s okay if that’s not—”

“Me too,” Carmen says.

And then I kiss her, right there in front of everyone. We pull away and telepathically decide to turn and leap into the water on the count of 1… 2…. 3!

I plunge deep into the springs. The sound outside softens. I splay my arms and legs out as far as they can go. I am a giant floating rock queen. A mountain. An island, even. Slowly, I drift back up to the surface, letting my breath out in tiny bubbles. I feel Carmen’s hand take mine. We float there together, staring up at the sky.

Copyright 2022 by Rebecca Bendheim