The late Harry Leo Duran, M.D., Ph.D., Mph went through a period of religious fanaticism which fluctuated between him being conflicted about “keepIng” his Buddhist thangkas and HIS magical items and rationalizing that they were art and not demonic. That did not stop him, however, from demanding that I toss out all my oracle cards and runes and anything a priest would want to burn if we lived back in the 1600s.
In my Tell All Book which I hope to publish once I get to Tennessee, I write
“One of Harry’s friends called me and asked me flat out if the photo of the NOTORIOUS DOC tattoo was photoshopped. No, it was there. The boar’s head is in several photos. The black triangle was a tattoo he had put on in 1995. I had sent him a talisman from the 1985 Egyptian Way of the Cartouche deck by Murray Hope. He showed the tattoo to me all smiles. I was taken back. Once again, he abused a magical symbol meant for protection.”
That 1985 book with its accompanying deck of oracle cards was a Christmas gift from my mother. It was often more accurate than not and I loved it. I went through an Egyptian period where I couldn’t satisfy my need to transport myself back to the 18th century including the purchase of 18th century scarabs. My favorite book in grade school was
It was written in 1941 and I found it in the school library. One of the reasons why the National Library Association has failed the American public is the fact that our public libraries do not have equal access to the many subscription services sold to universities and large urban libraries. Our Elko library does not have a subscription to The New York Times and I am not paying to read the review from 1941. Kirkus lets me see this much. Eloise’s book should be required reading if you ask me. I fear it’s been lost in the dust bin of time.

And my cartouche cards almost ended up in the waste paper basket between my bed and my night table one day when I got a phone call that Father Mark was coming and Harry wanted ALL my witchy poo stuff GONE. I couldn’t bear to throw the book out. It’s rather thin and I figured I could hide it behind other books. I remembered throwing the cards out, but I could not remember what happened next.
I swore I had thrown them out. So many of my prized possessions had been dashed to the tile floors or hurled across a room or stomped on, my mind lost track.
A few weeks after Harry died the fellow I rescued who was helping me with the estate sales came flying into my room holding up one of the cards from the deck. I flipped out. I ran to the kitchen and he had the cards and the box. WHERE OMG WHERE did you find these? Looking at me like I had dementia and needed a nursing home sooner than later, Brian replied that he found them in the bookcases downstairs.
Now I can’t get up off the floor anymore – degrading lumbar 5 operation from 1999 plus osteoarthritis, so I caught myself before I could collapse and just sob. I staggered to my chair at the dining table and balled like a baby. Brian got a tad pissy. Why was a crying and what was the meaning of the ANKH?
LIFE! Brian had found part of my soul and I had no memory of hiding the deck even from myself!
The cards had been out of print and I knew I couldn’t replace them. And there they were. I raced down the hall and got my book and did a spread and cried until I thought I would faint.

Brian also found my lost Kalachakra jigsaw puzzle. Alas, Harry’s ghost haunted him – Brian fell in love with all the super expensive clothes and $35 a pair underwear. He started stealing and then he started using drugs again. He moved out so he could be with a street prostitute, moved back in, then left for Tennessee. The whore broke up and left him to fend for himself. I must say he got himself a job but he’s living in Harry’s tent and is miserable. I tried to teach him how karma works and how you can’t piss off a witch. He’s learning. We keep in touch and I am still trying to heal him.
It pains me that he held one of the most incredible symbols in his hands and was eager to learn about what it meant. Unfortunately, my heart was so wounded and my body had been so bruised, I guess I just couldn’t bring forth the teacher in me at that time.
Tracey Brown shared with me her story about tossing her tarot cards and magical tools which triggered the flashbacks about my lost deck. Her work can be found in the series
My story about Brian could not be included in Betrayed because like they say in all the Korean dramas

I don’t have a happy ending written in the stars yet. My timeline keeps jumping the tracks. I’m finishing up the K Drama suspense/romance series Demon and in it the characters say “happy ending” more times than I can count. How the Koreans latched on to a Disney concept I am not sure but my hook or by crook, I WILL have a HAPPY ENDING!


