A Slice of Magic. A. G. Mayes
I said to Mitzy, and she wagged her tail a little as she struggled to keep up. ‘It’s not my fault Aunt Erma abandoned me here to do all this work. Why won’t she call and check in?’ I grumbled. ‘Doesn’t she have a cell phone?’ I paused to let Mitzy sniff a leaf.
‘I’m sorry. Do you require some sort of assistance?’ A voice behind me made me jump. I turned and saw a woman about my age. Her frizzy blonde hair was held back by a thick navy headband that matched her leggings. She had a long thin bag slung over her shoulder and was evaluating me with slightly wide blue eyes.
‘No, I’m fine,’ I sighed.
‘You must be Erma’s niece,’ she said, noticing Mitzy. I introduced myself. She told me her name was Holly, and she ran the grocery store. ‘I’m on my way to Mr Barnes’s yoga class. You should come with me. You look like you could use a little yoga right now.’
‘I think I need a drink more than yoga,’ I said. ‘Know where I could find one?’
‘Sal’s is the best and basically only place for a drink in town, but it’s closed tonight,’ she said, leaning down to pet Mitzy who was demanding some attention.
‘Closed? On a Saturday?’
‘His kid’s in a play at the elementary school tonight, so he shut down to go watch it. The liquor store is closed too. Nancy’s kid is in the same play. Welcome to a small town,’ she said with a laugh. She looked at her watch. ‘I gotta run, but it was nice to meet you.’
I said goodbye then rounded the corner by the barber shop and saw Henry sitting on a bench in the town square looking up at the sky. Willy lay on the ground next to him. Even lying down, Willy looked gigantic.
‘Finding any answers up there?’ I asked, which seemed to startle him back to earth.
‘Just daydreaming. Or night dreaming, I guess.’ He smiled.
Mitzy shamelessly leapt up into his lap, and he stroked her head. I took that as an invitation to sit next to him. Willy stood up and sniffed Mitzy. His tail wagged, and he put a paw up on Henry’s lap.
‘Oh no, there’s not room for you too,’ he said. Willy gave me a hopeful look, and I crossed my legs. He reluctantly settled back on the ground.
‘How are things at the nursing home?’ I asked.
Henry’s brow furrowed. ‘It was kind of a rough day.’
‘I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?’ He looked so distraught. Part of me wanted to hug him, but since this was only our second meeting, I settled for resting my hand on his arm. He put his hand on top of mine, and I felt a little jolt of excitement run through me. His hands were so warm.
‘No thanks. Enough about me. Let’s talk about you,’ he said. ‘How are things going at the pie shop? Sneeze on any dough balls today?’
‘Of course not. Things have been going quite smoothly.’ I skipped telling him about the fire, the crazy gym owner, and the newspaper article. He probably had enough going right now that he wasn’t plugged into the gossip mill. I did tell him a very light and amusing anecdote about blueberries though.
‘How are you adjusting to this small town of ours?’
‘Well, I was going to stop at the liquor store, and I’ve just discovered that nothing is open because there’s a play at the elementary school,’ I said. ‘So that’s where I’m at.’
‘Ah, yes. Most of us know to plan ahead and shop around these major events.’ He removed his hand from mine and his warmth was replaced by the cold night air. I stuck my hand in my pocket. ‘For example, if you’re looking for a bottle of wine,’ he said, reaching into a canvas tote that was sitting next to him, ‘I happen to have one on me.’
I stared at him open-mouthed. His big brown eyes blinked brightly back at me. He might actually be the perfect man.
‘Why are you carrying a bottle of wine around with you?’
‘I had book club tonight, and it was my turn to bring the wine.’
‘The bottle is almost full.’
‘It was the fourth bottle.’
‘How many people in the club?’
‘I’d rather not answer that question,’ he giggled.
‘I’m guessing three.’
He answered with a wide smile and a wink before handing me the bottle. ‘Here. Consider it a welcome to town gift.’
‘Thanks,’ I took the bottle. ‘Pink. My favorite flavor.’
‘Not really a wine connoisseur, huh?’
‘I consider myself to be more of a wine enthusiast than a connoisseur,’ I said.
We sat in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes before Mitzy jumped off Henry’s lap and gave me her patented ‘are you coming?’ look.
‘I guess it’s time for me to go. I’ll see you around.’
When we were several steps away, I turned back to give him one more look. He was watching me go.
Mitzy and I strolled around the edge of the mostly deserted town square. Apparently, everyone was at the play. As we rounded the corner near the diner, I saw a blinking neon sign advertising the bowling alley. Without any plan whatsoever, I marched over to the bowling alley and found a dark staircase that lead to a red door. A small plaque next to the door said ‘Hocus Hills Gazette.’ This was the place. A tiny bit of my gumption had evaporated upon arrival, and I hesitated at the door. I glanced down at Mitzy who looked even more unsure of my actions.
‘We have to find out who this Elodie is,’ I rationalized with her. She sat down defiantly. ‘C’mon,’ I said, gently tugging her leash as I took a couple more steps towards the door. I could hear something happening inside and I wanted to see. It would make sense if Elodie was in there right now. If her identity was such a secret she would probably work at night. ‘Come on, we have to see. Quick, before anyone comes,’ I urged Mitzy, and she reluctantly got up and followed me down steps to the door.
I cracked the door open. I could hear something inside. It sounded like printing presses running. And something else. A popping sound, almost like popcorn. Strange noises, but not dangerous sounding.
I was just about to push the door the rest of the way open when a man appeared, blocking my path.
‘Hi,’ I said, taking a flustered step backwards. I could see half of his glasses and some curly strawberry blond hair on top of his head. He didn’t open the door any further. He just peered out the opening at me with one eye for a moment. Was this Willard Jefferson?
‘Can I help you?’ His voice was gruff and the fact that he was still masked by the darkness inside and the half-closed door made me take another step back. Then I remembered the newspaper article about me, and my righteous indignation returned.
‘I’m looking for Elodie,’ I said, clearing my throat when my voice wavered.
‘Not in.’ He started to close the door, but I stuck my foot out to stop him.
‘Are you the editor?’ I asked. ‘I’m Susanna Daniels.’
He opened the door a little further. I could tell I had piqued his interest. I tried to look around him to see what was happening inside or if Elodie was in there, but his body still took up most of the opening, and I couldn’t tell if anyone was behind him.
‘Would you like to comment on today’s story?’ He whipped a notebook out of his pocket, his pen poised over the paper ready for a quote.
‘No,’ I said flatly. ‘I just want to talk to Elodie.’
‘No one talks to Elodie,’ he said, and with that, he shut the door in my face.
‘This isn’t over yet,’