Dream Journal: 2013-09-30.02

So you know the game Duck Duck Goose? In last night’s dream I wanted to look over some things for the Baraja. I reached in the bag and pulled out a poker deck. The damn thing quacked when I placed it on the table. Remembering what happened earlier in the Waking, I looked in the bag. The bag was empty. Muttering expletives, I reached in the apparently empty bag and my hands closed around a deck.

Another poker deck. It too quacked when I set it on the table.

I looked around to see if any pranksters were hiding in the bushes, but I was sitting alone. Not even Snake was present for silent judgement. I reached in the bag one last time and pulled out a deck.

The Baraja. When I laid it on the table I fully expected it to honk. Duck, duck, goose, right? The deck gave no noise, but the sky suddenly darkened from millions of ravens taking to flight. Where the birds came from, I have no idea. Where they were headed, I do not know. All I knew is their appearance was triggered by the Baraja Española.

I wanted to fly off after them and help in whatever mayhem they had planned. But I knew that was not my place, this time.

I looked back down to start laying out naipes but found the table was suddenly crowded. While I was looking up at the magnificent display of corvid menace, some of them had dropped off a few… dozen… things.

My table was now covered in a multitude of various playing card decks. “Are you fucking kidding me! No. I am not going to collect playing cards. I have more than enough, thank you very fucking much, and I’m not paying obscene prices for a collector’s item I would be afraid to use!”

“Krrrr krrrr!” I look up at the noise and see a raven perched in the tree. It’s seated to have full view of me and the table.

“I don’t have collector’s money. I don’t have collector’s space. I’m pushing my luck with the small gathering of tarot decks as it is. And I can’t justify getting more decks, as I only have two playing card systems. I’ll gladly play with these cards over here, but over there, in the Waking, I have five playing card decks not counting the two Baraja. By the end of the week, there will only be two and two. Two poker decks and the two Baraja.”

“Ha! Kra-ha!” The bird openly mocked me.

“I’m gonna tell you what I tell every other entity that wanted me to gather and hoard some shit. You want me to have it? Provide it. I’m not going to play fetch because you want to be amused.”

The bird glided down to the table and began sorting through the decks. It picked up the ubiquitous bicycle backed deck seen everywhere in America, and flung it off the table. Several other ‘generic’ decks were rejected as well. It found the Bag of Bones deck and I let it be plain on my face that that deck was mine. The raven picked it up and placed it atop the Baraja. It sorted through a dozen decks, rejecting those that were plain and indistinguishable from other decks. The ones it placed in a separate pile were visually unique, but not true collector’s items. These were decks I could afford, decks I didn’t have to baby, decks made to be used. They just looked different from Ye Generic Joker On A Bicycle deck.

The raven sorted through two dozen decks like this. Of them, only five were placed aside, and even then, I knew the raven wasn’t deciding for me. I didn’t have to keep all the decks on the table. Just the ones that were visually intriguing to me. It wasn’t about esoteric use. It was about surrounding myself with things I like to see.

I noted one of the decks featured ravens as a motive. I smiled to see it. The raven vigorously nodded.

“I’ll think about it.” “Kraw! Kraw!”

“I said I’ll think about it! I’m not going a-hunting for decks, mind you. I have more important stuff to deal with. But, yea, you have a point. My surroundings need not be so sterile.”

The raven nodded, pulled the raven-themed deck closer than the others as a final hint, and flew off.

I put the three decks I did physically own back in the bag (which still appeared empty when I looked later) and left the table. I turned around only to find myself at a different table.

“Siéntate.” A red painted fingernail tapped the table.

“Sí, Maestro.” I sat quickly, as I knew better than to argue with kir. At the time, anyway. “¿‘Sta una problema?”

“Sí lo hay. ¿Por qué no usas maquillaje o joyas?”

Are you shitting me? “Now wait just a damn minute.” I dropped the attempts to explicitly think in Spanish. For one thing, I don’t know enough expletives to adequately convey the anger that was quickly flaring. “You know me. Tú me conoces muy bien. You know I don’t do the makeup thing and I can’t afford the jewelry thing, and considering how I just had to give away the only gold I had [because bullshit], you’re fucking out of fucking line!”

Ke fanned kirself with a folded paper and just smacked kir lips in response. “Not all that glitters is gold, Mija. And that doesn’t explain the makeup.”

“Question for a question. Why is this an issue now? You don’t give a shit about appearances or gender roles.”

“Claro que no. But you do. And you would be glorious with a little sparkle here and there. Tú eres una reina, Mija. Present yourself as one.”

The title made me wince and dissolved much of my rage with shame. “Una reina de nada, Maestro. Tú sabes que también.”

“¿Cómo se dice, ‘bullshit’, en español? ¿Hmm? No es necesario que tú digame por qué tú no usas maquillaje. Eso es solo necesario que tú entiendes por qué.”

Ke made a shooing motion and dismissed me from the table. I bowed in respect and mumbled a farewell. Just before I crossed the threshold, ke shouted from behind me, “¡Use un poco de rojo!”.

I stopped in my tracks. “¿Rojo?” Red? I look shitty in red. Or murderous. Or both. “Pero… ¿por qué rojo? El mar es azul.” I was referring to the covering over us both. Many layers of allusions here, none of which I am at leave to publicly explain.

I heard kir take a long drag off a sharp cigarette. I didn’t turn around. I was suddenly afraid to. I remained just within the threshold and cocked my head to indicate I was listening. When ke finally did speak, it was with a solidity that settled in my bones.

“Porque sangre.”


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