“Shack Man Reveals Surprising Secrets: What Developments Could Change Everything?”
Added on April 6, 2025 inASTROLOGY CARDS
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Have you ever found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions, only to wonder how the cosmos played a hand in your life’s drama? In this chapter, we dive into the tangled saga of Shack and his newlywed adventures, where astrological influences collide with the mundane struggles of everyday life. We explore the profound connection between Shack’s astrological chart and his quest for stability at work, only to be met with the familiar chaos of family dynamics. How does the shifting energy of the stars guide our interactions and emotions? As you follow this gripping story, keep an eye out for the moments when the universes align, and ask yourself: Are we all just puppets on strings tied to celestial bodies? Let’s uncover the layers of this narrative together!
Catch up here – Shack Man
Chapter 35 – “There Have Been Some Developments”
Shack and I got back in sync and his color began to normalize. He slept well, as far as I know. I was asleep!
My sister was on me about saying this or that or asking this or that, but it’s not how we worked. Shack and I had the same sun, Venus and Mercury signs. His Pisces Mars synched with my Venus Neptune. Who needs to talk?
I knew how bad he wanted to get some traction at work, because I know how it feels when Virgo is behind the eight-ball on the job. I knew he had to go back to work the next day and try again.
I knew he was drained, disappointed and angry.
This does not add up to “quiz time” in Elsa world. He needed his energy restored, which is something I can do, pretty easily. But it was at this point, I knew this was not going to be easy to resolve. It would take something drastic as the circles he’d been running in were well worn and had produced, squat.
There was a pattern in our relationship where he considered things independently, presenting them when he had it worked out or had made some sort of progress. This worked beautifully for me. Hey! I guess that’s why we married! I had no impulse or inclination to change our natural flow.
I didn’t call my sister about this for a number of reasons. First, I knew what she’d say. Something along the lines of, “THAT BITCH”! I also wanted to give her a chance to advance her story with her friends before I had to wreck it with this news!
Further, Shack’s brother’s desire to be more remote from our relationship had struck me. I don’t think my sister felt similar at all. She was having a vicarious life. But I thought, Shack and I would do well, to retreat and let our relationship gel.
I also had a lot to do. The stolen check fiasco was ongoing. I was taking the truck to the shack to get various things, easy to haul on my own. I was also incubating this question in the background: how am I going to be an astrologer?
I had been paid to read charts, in person, in my condo. Just a few. I was sure, my sister and Shack’s brother were right. I could do it! But should I get a computer and start on that now, when we’re not yet settled? I was working on ordering my operations, as I chipped away on a massive to-do list.
I was also thinking about, Shack’s brother and all he’d done for us. I wanted to do something for him so I was mulling this as well. What he wanted was a wife! Was there I way I could help facilitate this? I thought I could.
In the meantime, I was grabbing stuff from the shack so when his brother was asked to help with the move, he’d get there and find the work mostly, done. Same thing I did with my condo. He’d know. He’d feel my love and I felt he’d benefit.
It was unfortunate, Shack, had to fight his family. I couldn’t help him on the front line so I minded his flanks.
I was hoping for news on the family situation when Shack got home from work. I didn’t expect it to be good. I didn’t expect to have news, for that matter, as I’d been kept at a distance all along. I was curious exactly what he or we were dealing with. How far might she take this? How might he wrap it up?
Instead, Shack came home with that same pallor, but worse. What the hell!
I can’t stress this enough. He looked like he’d been tortured. He looked at me and walked straight into our bedroom, without saying a word. I said some swear words under my breath and followed him in there, intending to find out what was going on and help him with the bloodless face situation.
Instead, I found him spread eagle on the bed and nonresponsive. He did not or would not respond to my voice or my touch. I tried to lie down with him; he didn’t move a muscle. It was like nothing I’d ever seen in my life… I surmised he wanted to be alone. He clearly wanted to be alone, or he would have grabbed me, like normal.
I can’t say I was alarmed, but it was the first time I was concerned for him. He looked that bad. I flashed on the idea I was witnessing some kind of “descent”. Into depression? Madness? What? God, Elsa. Don’t be so dramatic!
We’d talked about his need for space. He and I had talked about it. My sister and I had also discussed it – Aquarius moon! But, Shack, himself had explained to me, he’d lived alone in a shack for three years. He may need to decompress at times, or spend a night there alone?
I was fine with this as it made total sense. Ultimately, we moved his, Shack bed, into one of the other bedrooms. This way, if he wanted to go the shack, it was right down the hall! We also wanted it there in case someone got drunk, or simply wanted to stay over. The mattress was no longer on the floor.
I opted to let him be. I went in the living room to lie on the ear height couch and wonder when he’d want to listen to music again. I would definitely be calling my sister in the morning.
I spent the night on the couch, which I did not want to do. But when I checked on him, he’d not moved an inch.
Shack apologized in the morning. He said he was going to put an end to these problems. It was a brief conversation. He was still extremely pale. I wanted to do or say something but he was not a baby man. When he wanted my help, he asked for it.
I called my sister after he left.
“How’s the newlyweds!?” she asked.
“There have been some developments,” I said. Shack told his mother we eloped; I guess she wigged.”
“Uh oh. What did she do?”
“I have no idea. He went to work and came home with the blood drained from face. It was awful.”
“What! You mean to tell me, Shack comes home from his wedding; he’s finally married, he’s happy as hell, and Vampire Mom has to ruin it! What did you do?”
“Start his heart.”
“It worked?”
“It worked on, Monday. Last night, it did not work. He lie on the bed… he was nonresponsive.”
“Lying how? Like curled up? Fetal position?”
“No. Spread eagle. Open, but nonresponsive.”
“Sadge is always open,” she said, laughing. “Even when processing trauma.”
“Is this what you think he was doing?”
“It’s what I’d be doing if I had to talk to that flaming bitch for so much as two seconds.”
I laughed. ““So you think this is okay? He did not respond to me at all. He didn’t even blink.”
“I guess he doesn’t want to talk. Were you bugging him?”
“No. But it’s awful. He’s got this pallor about him.”
“Vampire mom drains his life blood.”
“Oh, God,” I said, completely grossed out. If she’d have seen him, she wouldn’t have said that.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “How are you?”
“I’m a bit scared.”
“Scared, how.”
“He’s messed up. I don’t know what happened.”
“I think he’ll come out of it and talk to you.”
“That’d be nice. I’ve never anything like this.”
“Okay, we’ll you’re not calming down, so tell me what you saw and what your thought about what you saw?”
“Blood drained, pallor. He’s falling… descent into madness.”
“What! Madness! Elsa, everything was perfect, three days ago. He told me, himself. Are you sure about what you’re saying.”
“Yes. He’s messed up.”
“What? I’m having a hard time picturing this. What do you think he was doing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Elsa, GUESS! What did you see when he was lying there. What did you think!?”
“I wondered if he used to lay like this, when he was alone in the shack.”
“That’s it! That’s what he was doing. She’s fuckin’ him up. He’s trying to deal.”
“Okay, I can see that. You’re probably right.”
“No, you’re right. You’re the one who just told me what he was doing. Hopefully he’ll be better when he gets home. Do you think he will be?”
“Not really. He’s not all right. I can’t imagine what she is saying to him.”
“If you could imagine, what would she be saying?”
“Crying. Oldest son. How could you get married without me there? Maybe even bring dead brother into it. Little brother may not marry. She never gets to see one of her son’s marry… I really don’t know. But that’s the kind of thing that would trash him.”
“If she’d have given him his ring, she’d be making your dress right now! It’s her fault. You’re going to have to give him some space until he gets his shit together. Don’t worry. His family is fucking him over. There’s no one better than you, to help with that type issue. Just give him some space and when you see an opening for your knife – Slash! Or stab! Whatever it is you do, Elsa, when you heal people.”
“I heal people?”
“All the fuckin’ time. Left, right, up, down and center. All you have to do is move your pinky.”
I laughed. “Okay, I will try these things. Thanks for helping me. I appreciate it.”
“Elsa, it’ll be okay.”
“I hope so. It is far from okay, at the moment.”
“Well, let’s not get into more, right now. Just don’t worry. Paint your fingernails and wait for Tarzan to return!”
Two days later, I called my sister.
“How’s Tarzan?”
“Uh… I have some shit to tell you, you won’t believe.”
“I find it hard to believe, there’s anything you can tell me, I won’t believe,” she said, taking a drag on her cigarette.
“Okay. Shack came home, I was out on the deck. He had better color but he was not himself. He told me he saw a bumper sticker and he was going to get it for me.”
“A bumper sticker? Why? That’s stupid. The last thing you need is a bumper sticker.”
“Why?” I asked. I was curious.
“Because if someone wants to know what you think, you’ll get right the fuck out of the car and tell them what you think, on any subject in existence.”
I laughed. “Unfortunately, this is about something else. I asked him what it said. He did not look normal, by the way. He said, Men Are Assholes & I Married Their King!”
“Whaaaat?”
“That was my reaction. What do you mean? I didn’t marry an asshole.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Yes. He said, well maybe you did. So I repeated myself. I did not and I would not marry an asshole! He looked at me in a way I couldn’t read. He paused a minute, then he grabbed me and hugged me.”
“Was he joking?”
“I don’t think he was. If he was, I didn’t find it funny. I just had to deal with two days of near total silence and this is what he comes in with? I would never put shit like that on my car.”
“I take your point.” She was being generous with him, because hey. Sadge club. “I’m not sure what he meant by that. Do you know?”
“No. The rest of the night he was semi-normal. He was dropping remarks. For example, his father called him.” She groaned. “No, I don’t know anything about what was said, but this is also the least of my problems.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t freak out until you hear this whole scene.”
“What whole scene?”
“Last night, he broke my ring.”
“WHAT? What do you mean, he broke your ring. Your wedding ring? He broke your fucking ring? Elsa! How the fuck did that happen?”
“Very quickly.”
“XXXXX! Get my cigarettes! Tarzan broke Elsa’s ring. Her wedding ring! Are you okay? Did he break anything else?”
“No. He just broke my ring. He shattered it, in fact. But, yes I’m okay.”
“Let me make sure I’m hearing this, right. Your new husband just shattered your wedding ring and you’re okay? That’s a trick, even for you. Tell me. How are you okay if your husband just broke your wedding ring?”
“Good question. I’m going to have a hard time explaining this. In the simplest terms, he pushed me. My hand flew back and my ring smashed against the wall, and it shattered.”
“He pushed you? What do you mean, pushed you? By accident?”
“He pushed me, deliberately. My ring broke accidentally.”
“Why did he push you? Elsa, he’s not beating you is he?”
“Nooooo! You know I’d never stand for that.”
“Whew! Okay, so what happened?”
“Well, he’s been in a foul mood, as you know. It’s due to the phone calls, as far as I know. I am not part of this. I’m staying back; waiting for him to get his shit together, as you say. Each day he’s comes home, it’s a bit different. The last two days, he’s been making stray comments; more like grumbling. His father is an asshole and such.”
“And so he pushes you and breaks your ring?”
“Sort of. He was pissed, but not at me. I don’t even know if pissed is right word. He was agitated. Uncomfortable.”
“So he pushes you and breaks your ring?”
“I’m trying to explain. He has been out of sorts this whole week… since the first day he spoke with his mother, whoever else is calling him. I have not had a normal conversation or interaction with him since then, except maybe the first night. He does not look himself. Well, it’s a bloodless version of him.”
“Elsa, why did he push you and break your ring?”
“I don’t know. Because I was there? I’m trying to explain this, because I need to figure it out, don’t you think? I’m telling you, he’s been out of it…”
“Triggered?”
“That’s more like it. But this has been sustained for four days. It’s more like a mental health crisis of some sort. Or I’m filling in for someone in his family psychodrama. I don’t know who. I don’t have the script! I may be filling in for more than one person at different times. The way he is interacting with me is abnormal. It’s foreign and confusing.”
“Neptune. Is he dissociated?”
“Yes. He’s not in the normal world, the way he’s been, since we met. I don’t know the reason. I don’t think it’s me, because I have been on the periphery. We have not had a fight.”
“Continue.”
“The scene is, he’s walking around the house like a caged animal. He’s got a lot of energy coming off him. I was getting sick of it. It’s disturbing to be around. I went into the shack bedroom to get away from it.”
“Why didn’t you go in your bedroom?”
“The shack bedroom is code, for I’ve had enough! So I was in there, sitting on the bed, fully. Like in the middle of it. He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at me and then he pushed me. I was not expecting it all. My hand flew back and the stone hit the wall and shattered.”
“He just pushed you… for no reason?”
“If he had a reason, I don’t know what it was.”
“What did you do?”
“I was shocked. Shocked he pushed me and shocked my ring was shattered… well, my marriage was shattered in this moment, isn’t that what this means?”
“If your husband smashes your wedding ring, when you’ve been married less than a week? Yes, I’d say so.”
“Okay, so this is happening, instantly. I saw my ring was broken. I showed to him, like, now what, asshole?”
“What did he do?”
“He snapped. He snapped into normalcy.”
“What?”
“He snapped back into himself. He was extremely apologetic. He started hugging me… normally.”
“This sounds like classic battered woman shit, Elsa.”
“You don’t think I know that? Don’t worry! I am not going to be a battered woman. I’m telling you what happened. He was hugging me, comforting me, apologizing and saying he was going to fix it.”
“He’d better!”
“Agreed. So I started crying. He was out of his day’s long tirade. He was kind, he was comforting me; he said he would fix the ring.”
“But it’s shattered.”
“Yes. But he got a handkerchief and started picking up the pieces. The little shards and tiny pieces… it was smashed to smithereens; he was gathering every piece of that stone. He said this is what he was doing. He was brushing the blanket on the bed, to gather every single piece.”
“What were you doing?”
“I was thinking, Humpty Dumpty! But he was gathering the pieces, like they were, Holy. It was symbolic. Picking up the pieces of the shattered marriage.”
“Fuck me. How do you have these experiences?”
“I don’t know. I have an eighth house, I guess. He made it clear he wanted everything back the way it was. He apologized for being an asshole and said he was taking my ring to be repaired. It looked irreparable to me, but hey! His problem. I said, okay to that, because what he was going to do was what I wanted him to do, which is fix this shit!”
“Then what?”
“Ultimately, we went to bed. He took the ring pieces with him, this morning. He’s going to take them to a jeweler on his lunch break. Repair or replace my ring. Again, he was very apologetic for the fact, I’m married to him, but I have no ring on my finger and it’s his fault.”
“Do you believe him? That he’s sorry?”
“Yes. He was humiliated. He’s got some kind of standard for himself; it’s quite high. Breaking your wife’s ring is way, way on the other side of the line. But he did it, so now he’s got deal with the consequences. He is taking full responsibility.”
“How do you feel?”
“Unclear. I’m still a bit shocked. And I’m embarrassed by this. Do I tell my friends? If I don’t, if I protect him, that’s classic battered woman stuff. If I do tell them, they’ll look at him sideways, forever. Cause him shame. He’s ashamed as it is.”
“Does he want you to not tell anyone?”
“On the contrary. He intends to tell the jeweler. This is my wife’s ring. I broke it, being an asshole. I want you to fix it, at any cost.”
“Well that’s blunt. I don’t know what to say. He does value you.”
I laughed. “I’d hope so. I’m his wife!”
“So what’s he going to do about his family?”
“I don’t know. Best case scenario, this is a huge wake up call. He fixes my ring or the equivalent. He acts normal with me and he realizes he needs to deal with his family, or his marriage will be destroyed.”
“Sounds right to me. Do you think he can do it?”
“Is he capable? Of course. But he’s got to deal with his family. They’re obviously, resilient and they have a hold.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like I want my husband back and I hope I get him.”
“And he’s back with you now? This is why you’re okay, even though he broke your ring?”
“Yes. Look. Shack has a lot of currency with me. He has been very, very good to me and made me very happy, as you know. I am not going to dump him or do something to him, because of a four-day wig out that I don’t understand. I’m not going to berate him for breaking my ring, when it was clearly not his intention.”
“I don’t know why he pushed me in the first place. I’d like to find out. Like maybe he was recreating some scene.”
“Is that what you think?”
“It’s a guess. It makes the most sense. But I don’t know who in his family comes into a person’s bedroom and pushes them around. See what I mean? I’m standing in for someone, but I don’t know who. And don’t worry! I’m not going to live in this family’s psychodrama. My hope is, this is horrifying enough for him, he goes in like, Zorro, and handles this. Yes, I think he has the capability.”
“So now you wait and see?”
“Yes. Hopefully he will come home tonight in a normal frame of mind and we can hash this out.”
To be continued.
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