Luckily Henna wasn’t badly hurt. All that had happened was that she’d hit her head a crack on the ceiling with an extra high jump and bitten her tongue. We struggled a bit, accompanied by appropriate sound effects, but as soon as I’d mopped up all the blood and worked out where it was coming from she stopped screaming and began to moan softly. She’s been fairly quiet since it happened, due perhaps to swelling of the tongue, but as I type this she’s making a chickweed poultice to ease the inflammation. So let’s return to yesterday, and Joel’s visit.
Joel and yours truly descended the basement stairs and I locked the door to the kitchen behind us. I had to grope for the matches and candles as it’s pitch dark down there once that door is shut, and I think I may have groped Joel a bit in the process, but I’m not too sure about this as he didn’t comment.
But at last two large candles flickered on my reading table, and we drew up the chairs and faced each other through the glow. We spoke first a little about Henna. Joel had been shocked but not altogether surprised at her first words to him – she’d abandoned him, after all. Come to think of it, they were her only words throughout the time she stayed for tea, before she went upstairs to jump on the bed.
Joel told me a little of his life to date. The tobacco magnet had gone bankrupt fairly soon after adopting him and life had been hard, although Joel knew little of this at the time. The TM had even returned to the convent to request the return of the money he’d donated to secure Joel’s adoption, but the nuns had spent it all (a huge amount) on a new altar, and sent him off with hard words ringing in his ears. So Joel and his new dad had lived a nomadic life, crossing borders seemingly at random, until they were refused entry to Australia due to a misunderstanding about some illegal substance or other. They fled here, to Great Britain, where a welcome can be relied upon for all who care to apply for one, and have been here ever since, living modestly. The TM started a new business growing tobacco in the attic. Joel tells me it’s warm up there under the lights, and he makes a reasonable living.
After I’d filled him in on my life to date, Joel spoke of how he’d found me when googling ‘Spiritual Tarot Reader’ during a difficult time when he needed some sound advice. The readings I did for him apparently awakened his own inherent love of all things spirituelle, and he began to study. He did admit that the readings were a slightly devious way of seeing how a relationship worked between reader and client, and that he’d been surprised at our encounters, but I told him not to concern himself with the ethical side of things, as we all need to survive somehow, and if there’s one thing I learned from Henna it’s that sometimes one has to go with one’s instincts and urges.
At this a slightly fearful look entered his right eye, and he stood up, saying that time was getting on and he must be off, as he had to call in on the TM on the way home to collect something. As he said this he produced a small packet which he pressed into my hand, saying that he’d been following my blog avidly, and this was an early birthday present, but as he couldn’t be with me then, not to open it till tomorrow.
And so we parted at the kitchen door, and I watched as he quietly closed the gate and bolted across the orchard with Baphomet close behind. Luckily he made it to the lane, where he’d left his red Ford Prefect.
But I’d given him a hug as we’d said goodbye and promised to keep in touch.
How wonderful are the hidden ways of the Universe that brought him to my door and revealed him in all his splendour! There is truly something beautiful about him.