Isola

by Allegra Goodman

particular. I was not holy, and I did not sing.

It was then I saw a gleam of gold. What could it be? All my coins were in the cave. I never carried any out, and I had never seen gold on the island. I was sure my eyes deceived me—but when I knelt to brush grass away, I found lost treasure. Uncorrupted by snow and ice and thaw, Claire’s ring lay shining. Slipping her gift onto my finger, I thought, I am the gold coin. I was lost and now am found. And it made me laugh to think I was the coin and also the housewife laundering.

Very Ace of Pentacles.

I had three pieces of gold, eight pieces of silver, and thirteen copper pennies. Coppers in hand, I stepped blinking into sunlight to buy fresh bread, and I ate quickly before children could find me. Then I purchased cheese and smoked meat, a cup, a comb, and a coarse cloth. In the cloth, I wrapped these things, and I carried the bundle on a stick. With each purchase, I asked directions to Périgord, and when every answer was the same, I took the road southeast. —

The Fool

“Why?” I looked him squarely in the face. “Would you turn me out? I can sleep upon the ground. Would you starve me? I know how to hunt. Would you break my heart? You have done it—and I do not have another heart to break. There is nothing more that you can do to me. I will not listen.”