Thief

Last week, before leaving for the Ingram Book Show in Nashville, I made an appointment to do Tarot readings at Jackson’s new alternative/metaphysical bookstore, New Vibrations.

New Vibrations, located in a cleverly converted former residence, pulsates with good energy. A short central hallway leads to a number of brightly-colored rooms, each of which has been painted an engaging shade of red, orange, or blue by an army of good friends. In what used to be a sun room, coffee and cookies await.

The effect? A visit to New Vibrations feels like a visit to the home of a good friend with a passion for metaphysical merchandise.

So: Saturday, I report at 1:00 sharp for a two hour reading session — and I’m stunned to find perhaps fifty people packed in the store. The owner produces a table and a sign-up sheet (“Folks saw the signs about your readings, and they’ve been fighting for parking spaces. My brother was on the phone, earlier, wanting to know if you were here yet.”)

The list fills up quickly, and many of the people waiting for me have never had a Tarot reading before. Rather than rush, I decide to invest time in a series of gentle, three-card readings … a strategy that pays off, I think, since each person really seems to enjoy his or her time with me.

On the edge of my table, I place a short stack of books — five copies of Putting the Tarot to Work. Several people inspect the book; one woman claims she wants to purchase it. “I just want to take a peek at it,” she says, gesturing toward the main hallway. “I’ll step right out here and take a look.”

Deeply involved in a reading, I wave her on. Several readings later (due to great response, I kept reading until almost 4:30), I notice I have only four books in my stack. I excuse myself and walk around the store.

The woman is gone … and she has stolen my book!

I shouldn’t be surprised … but I am. After all, this woman actually sat with me, getting to know me, reading the cards with me, for twenty minutes. We talked about her spiritual path, and her need to find others who felt about life and Spirit as she did. Our work together prompted her interest in the book.

And then she stole one.

In my mind, I construct dozens of “She couldn’t possibly have meant to steal it” scenarios. Maybe she needed one and didn’t have the money. Maybe she walked around, did some shopping, and walked out without thinking. I picture her at home, shocked to see the book still in her hand, thinking, “Oh, that poor Tarot reader — I just took his book!”

*Sigh*