Masking for Trouble
Page 14
My face shifted though surprise to confusion to disappointment. I’d caught the gist of what a ‘shifter’ was when Sherry mentioned it before, and I understood what that meant about me, too: “Oh. I guess I’m not really a witch then.”
“Well, the donuts were a bust, but it takes work,” Sherry said. “You told me about the headlight you created for your bike, so you have potential.”
“Huh. I’m still about as powerful as a D-cell battery then.”
“It’s a start,” Sherry said charitably. “But it’s not about you, becoming more and more powerful like some sort of superhero. It’s about learning to harness more and more of the power that exists all around us, like I said before. You’ve shown the ability to tune in. You just have to work on transmission and amplification.”
“So the dog’s a better witch than I am.”
“Yes and no. She’s a shifter, not a witch. She couldn’t make donuts to save her life.”
I made a face. Neither could I, for now.
“Haaa,” LT grinned. “So are you gonna tell us what happened here, Piper?”
I looked from Kasper’s face, to Sherry’s, to LT’s, to Leo’s. Where to start? “I’ve got a video. I’ll play it for you, and then you can hear it straight from the killer’s mouth. But first, I need to tell you all something about me.”
They each raised eyebrows in anticipation. Leo gave me an encouraging boof!
“Well, I guess the simplest way to put it is that Jarvis was able to find me because I used to be a bit of a hoarder.” None of my audience seemed to understand. I gulped, and went all-in, spelling it out directly: “I was addicted to online auctions. Things got a little… out of control. I nearly got evicted, crashed a forklift into twenty pallets of Seshman’s finest, lost my place. That’s why I’m kind of on the move.”
“Okay.”
“Cool.”
LT just nodded, like that was the most normal thing in the world.
“That’s it? C’mon guys, I’m laying out my soul here. My secret shame!”
Sherry shrugged, as she does.
“Fine. I’ll freak you out with detailed anecdotes and misadventures later. Now, your turn: where’d you find LT?”
“Kasper always knew where he was. They’re connected, since Kasper was LT’s mentor.”
I knew Sherry was talking about more than just professional wrestling. “Kasper, are you like, the grand-master warlock or something? How many witches do you mentor?” I asked.
The old man spat on the ground. “Warlock?! Bite your tongue. I am a witch. Been practicing for over forty years. I brought LT into the fold years ago, though shifters aren’t witches, not exactly. The power shared between LT and Leo is strong, but more unpredictable. I work with only LT, and Sherry, and a few others.”
Robin Jarvis squirmed and swatted about with a desperate hand, trying to pick Kasper’s ankle and escape. “If you—” he started, but Kasper grinned and twisted a little further, and Jarvis groaned in submission.
Sirens wailed, disturbing the calm, midday air, and relief washed over me. “It’s showtime!”
24
The Truck (Saturday)
The police took Jarvis away, of course, plus the bottles and a memory stick with a copy of our video chat. Kasper told me they’d found the bottles full of Jarvis’ prints, and a few scuffs from the toe of my Chucks. I knew there was also a smear from Jimmy’s nose but no one mentioned that. They found Jarvis’ cinnamon shaker and sent it off to a lab, to see if they could match chemical signatures between Jarvis’ cinnamon and the samples from Rex’s lungs.
I knew they’d match, and smoked cinnamon only comes from one fancy chef in New York, so that piece of evidence would basically be a smoking gun.
I had to give about a million statements, of course, but none of the officers or detectives ever mentioned the scene with Leo and the broken door. The strangest thing was that Derek had actually become quite cordial. By my third visit in two days, he even called me “Piper” instead of “Ms. Mars”.
The police inspected the Airstream for a day and a half but they didn’t kick me out of the camp, thankfully. Honestly, I felt safer with a few officers around.
I called Brennan to assure him that I was okay.
“I know you can handle yourself. Honestly, I’m more concerned that you went to an auction!” he said. “Online or off, those things are dangerous.”
“Don’t worry. After all this, I’ve officially added live auctions to the Big List of Banned Activities.”
“Glad to hear it, kiddo.”
I never followed up with the Familiar Faces, and they never followed up with me. I still don’t know who’s behind that site but, with the case all wrapped up, I don’t really care.
Jimmy came by with a deep fried sandwich from Love of Cheese’us on Saturday, harbouring no ill-will and suffering no long-term effects from his brush with cinnamon.
“You’re not gonna stick around then?” he asked, motioning to the duffel bag I was repacking.
“Guess not. Time to face the music. The new renters come tomorrow night.”
“You could always hide out at my place,” he said, showing off a dimple with his half smile.
I laughed, and maybe blushed a tiny bit. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m done hiding. I’m not even gonna pretend to be something special. Just gonna go back to plain old St. Mauvais and be plain old Piper. I’m even going to update my social media profiles with new pictures, no filters, totally unedited. Once my social media hiatus is officially over, of course.”
“Very brave,” Jimmy said.
“I’ll be here to visit Sherry and Kasper every once in a while. Maybe we could all go for coffee.”
“I’d like that. No cinnamon though.”
I started to apologize, again, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“My bad, my bad. I couldn’t resist. You know, if you get that truck back, you’re still gonna need someone to drive it to St. Moe for ya. Can’t drive two vehicles at once.” He flashed a thousand-watt smile. “And I’ve always wanted to drive a unicorn.”
“Ha! Well, if the OPP ever call me with good news, you’ll be the first person I phone.”
“You’ll need my number then.”
“Email it to me,” I said, and gave him my address.
I’ve never had a better deep fried sandwich in my life.
The next day, I slammed the last of my stuff into the rear seat of the Nissan and shoulder-tackled the door shut before it sprang back out. With my head lowered from the maneuver, I heard gravel crunching again. A warm, melodious horn sounded twice. I peeked over the car’s roof and there it was: the Cupcake Machine, in all its pink and purple unicorn glory. Kasper sat at the wheel with, of course, Sherry beside him.
“Shut the fridge door!” I shouted. “How’d you get that?!”
“Jimmy Kiss. He knows a guy.”
I blinked. A guy other than Derek, I had to assume.
“I know you wanted the Cupcake Machine too,” I said, “But after all this, I’m not just going to let you have it, you know! I did outbid you. I have the credit card debt to prove it.”
“Yes, yes, Piper. I’m not stealing your truck. Why would I steal a truck and then drive it here?”
“I was half-kidding,” I said, relieved. “They seriously gave up the truck? You didn’t steal it?”
Sherry suppressed a smile. “There may have been a small amount of persuasion involved.”
“The Social Media Charm!”
She shrugged.
“Well, as long as I can get it legally registered in my name, I’m not going to argue about it. But, Kasper, what really happened back at the auction? I offered to sell it to you! You really couldn’t scrape together another thousand bucks?”
“Ehn, buying the truck was a half-baked scheme anyway. I thought the truck would give Sherry a good job for the summer. You can’t make soup in my little house all day long, you know.”
I nodded thoughtfully as K
asper shut down the engine and both witches got out of the truck.
“Just tell her about the book,” Sherry said, giving Kasper a Look-with-a-capital-L.
“Ah, yes, okay. The real reason I wanted the truck was for the cookbook inside it.”
“You were going to spend eighteen grand on a cookbook?”
“It’s not just a cookbook,” Sherry said. “It’s a Wrestling Cookbook. With recipes from 35 of the biggest indie stars from the wayback times. There’s only a few of them out there, and this one is signed by 32 of the wrestlers, including Kasper.”
“Oh! So did you find it?”
“We just finished tearing this truck apart,” Kasper said, dejected. “It is not there.”
“Aw, Kasper, I’m sorry. I’m sure it held a lot of sentimental value for you.”
Sherry snorted. “It has money value too! It’d be worth as much as the Cupcake Machine itself, if it had all the signatures.”
“And it also has a lot of powerful spells hidden inside it,” admitted the Cookie Mumster.
My eyes bulged. “You’re sure it’s not in the Cupcake Machine? Did you check inside the big cupcake on the roof?”
“It’s not in the truck,” Kasper said. “But there’s only one other place Barry would’ve stored it. He wasn’t a witch, but he was the guardian of that book and I made sure he understood its importance.”
“That’d have to be one very safe place. Let me guess: a vault in his basement, but no one knows the code!”
“No, that’s not it.”
“It’s a very far place,” Sherry said. “And it keeps moving.”
“We require a road trip,” Kasper concluded. “And the old red pick-up isn’t fit for long distances. But with a little work…”
“The Cupcake Machine could do it!” Sherry said.
“So we’re delivering your truck, Piper Mars, and hoping you could give us a lift.”
“And remember our deal. You pledged to be my apprentice. We can practice your craft along the way.”
I couldn’t help it. A smile cracked across my face, and it turned into a laugh, a whole garden of laughs.
Sherry locked eyes with me. “So...deal? Road trip?”
I nodded with all my might. “Yes! Yes yes yes. We’ll be the Cruisin’ Canada Culinary Coven. We should get shirts made up. Or shawls or capes or whatever.”
Kasper gave me a blank look, then blew a raspberry. Sherry actually recoiled.
“Okay, okay, so we’ll work on the name.” I grinned at my new friends. Even without a name, I couldn’t wait to start our first real adventure together. For the first time in a good, long while, I was excited for the future.
The End.
Thank you so much for taking a chance on a new author! I sincerely hope you enjoyed the first installment of this series.
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Recipes!
Please note: The donut recipe will come when Piper gets it perfected.
The Soup from “Death Mask”: Esme’s Creamy Salmon Chowder (Easy Version, magic not required)
2 cans sockeye salmon
3 potatoes diced
5 carrots sliced thin
2 stocks of celery cut in chunks
¼ cup leeks, diced
½ cup fresh dill plus a few sprigs for garnish
enough garlic
2 cups corn
1 can mushroom soup (no salt added)
4 cups skimmed milk (or 2 cups skim milk and 2 cups table cream)
lemon pepper (to taste)
smoked paprika
Cook the potatoes, carrots and celery in microwave for about 2 minutes, just to soften slightly. Add to crock pot with other ingredients. Cook on low for 8 hours. If soup starts to boil add more milk or frozen corn. Soup will curdle if it boils. When ready to serve, sprinkle smoked paprika over top and/or garnish with dill. Serve with warm sourdough bread. Delicious!
The Cookies from “Binge”: Gramma Lil’s Classic Choco Chip Cookies
1 cup margarine
1 cup brown sugar
½ cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 ½ tsp. vanilla
2 ¼ cups flour
1 tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 pkg chocolate chips
Mix first 5 ingredients until light and fluffy. Add dry ingredients, mixing by hand - do not over-mix. Bake at 350° F for 8 minutes.
Afterword
Familiar Island isn’t a real place, of course, but it very closely resembles St. Joseph’s Island in northern Ontario, Canada, where I’ve had countless misadventures with family, friends, wildlife, and maybe a supernatural entity or two. We can’t rule out the possibility.
Carterton Cove isn’t a real village, but the name is an homage to distant familial ancestors who were among the first to begin farming on St. Joe’s. Thessalon is real, Blind River is real, and Saint Mauvais draws heavily from my real hometown. The grilled cheese sandwich shop goes by a different name, but trust me: it’s worth stopping in.
Also, I’d like to point out that, as far as I know, the real-life OPP are an honourable, competent force, unlike the version Piper meets.
Acknowledgments
Dear faithful readers,
I was going to include a list of your names, but I’m pretty protective of my privacy and I wouldn’t be thrilled about finding my name in a book unexpectedly, so this is kept purposefully vague.
I have so many people to thank. Every single name won’t fit, so first off: if you’re reading this, way at the back of the book here, THANK YOU.
To everyone who bought my first book, read a short story, or Liked and Shared a post online: thank you.
More specifically, my partner in both writing and life, for helping keep the creative flame alive. My family for the relentless support.
Particular to this book: my sister for the inspiration and the help with the wrestling parts, Mom and Robin for the recipes, and Jaan for the stories of Estonia. Constable Adam, too.
And, dear reader, you wouldn’t have liked this book before it met my amazing editor at JS Editorial. Her patience, tact, and brilliance are all over this story. Many thanks to my outstanding cover designer at Kim’s Covers. Molly B too.
My professors, including Alice, Margaret, and Michael. Literary guides like Anita, David and Molly F. Craig, Michael and the 20Books crew. Teachers Bob Mihell and Sandra Hodge, may they rest in peace.
The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and everyone else who awarded one of my short stories. The confidence lift goes a long way. The Ontario Arts Council, who didn’t support this specific project, but gave me the financial boost required to make this writing thing happen. (Arts funding changes lives, folks!)
About the Author
Hi!
A. J. Maybe is actually the pen name of a writing team living in northern Ontario, Canada. We love to coach and compete in archery, chase our son around, and explore the rugged Boreal landscape.
Many years ago, we were badly caught in a flash flood but everyone survived, including our Golden Retriever.
So these days, if the weather is dicey, we’ll just stay in and bake something gooey.