new one, dedicated to the Muse

Paranoia and Playing Cards

Ray Timmins

it’s taken years to shuffle the demons to

the bottom of the deck. I hate card tricks and the

lowly prestidigitators that flaunt their trite craft

on street corners, bars and any other place

I simply do not want to be confronted by

strangers.

but the Queen of Hearts keeps showing up,

she stares at me, asking where her Suicide King has gone,

pestering me. I toss her away and I pull another

card only to find her again. and again. and again.

where did my King of Hearts go? she asks and I rip

her up. how the hell should I know?

then I can’t sleep for days, my arm goes numb. I

search the deck for this damn King and he is

nowhere to be found. not like I care or anything:

I just want to get some sleep.

I pull her again from the deck and she stares,

saying nothing. I rip her into a million pieces (which

takes as long as one might expect) and go to bed.

I awake with a toothache that lasts for days and

I can see the Queen of Hearts smiling this time

when I pull her from the deck. half-witted and

half my face and brain raging with pain, I toss her out

the window.

a Siamese cat, 28 stories down (I spy with my

telescope) picks it up between it’s teeth. I hear

the doorbell. I answer it and the kitty drops the

card at my feet. the Queen stares at me, disappointed.

I roll my eyes and toss her over my shoulder. then she let’s

me have it, an all out verbal assault. but I don’t listen.

drama queens . . . blah, blah, blah . . .

I cry. my toothache doesn’t seem so bad. and now

I never wish to sleep again. but I do, the neurochemicals

consume me and I drift off into a dreamless reverie.

one is remains open.

I awake to the pretty kitty rubbing against my leg, that

Siamese who had found her way up 28 floors to

bring me back that damn card I keep trying to rid myself of.

she urges me out of bed and leads me into the

kitchen. she hops up on the counter and

jumps into a cupboard. I stare, bewildered.

as I’m about to refocus and make a morning brew,

I notice a card in between her teeth. I take it,

reluctantly but don’t look at it till after my morning

cup o’ joe (which is wonderful, by the way).

I sit down and stare at the ceiling for no good

reason. the cat pounces on my lap and meows, purring.

I purr back. then I remember the card!

“it’s the Queen of Hearts, I bet,” I tell the kitty, though

she doesn’t understand my language. I turn the card over:

it is the King of Hearts! my heart races, I jump for

joy! I do cartwheels and dance my ass off. I look

for the Queen of Hearts card to tell her that I found her

Suicide King.

but she is nowhere to be found. I plop down on

the couch (as I always do). the couch gives a little

but remains intact (which is good—my dad would

kill me if I broke his old, reliable couch), clutching

the card to my heart. I cry for days. weeks. months

straight, till I am near complete dehydration and

my skin turns crinkly and I turn into dust.

I awake again and look desperately at this card.

I notice the sword is behind his head, not stabbing

through it. I want to tell the Queen of Hearts—no, I

want to show her. but she is nowhere to be found.

I put the King of Hearts in my shirt pocket, where

a pack of smokes would go and continue to stare

at the ceiling. it begins crumbling, as does the

foundation of the immaculate skyscraper that I began

building when I was a kid to make a home fit

for the likes of me. the building is solid, save for

my small efficiency on the 28^th floor. but I will never

cry about. I can only laugh as my world falls

apart, the sky opening up. I grab my telescope

again (always comes in handy) and peer through

it. amidst the stars and the expanse of the

universe madly spinning I see a lone playing card

fluttering down, down, down. forever falling.

I wait, smiling, hoping it’s the card I seek. the Queen

of Hearts, the queen of my world, and the counterpart

to the card resting warm in my shirt pocket. I want

to show her that I found what she had been seeking

all the time I ignored her insistent stares.

the card still flutters aimlessly but seems

to be getting closer. hopefully, I can just reach her

by the time I need to make my final escape

from this sad old building. and give her back the

king she has longed to reconcile with that she had

lost so long ago.

and I still hate card tricks, but this is one illusion

I will stake my life on, and spend the rest of my

days trying to figure it out.

if need be.

9.9.2009