by Lissa Kasey
He sighed, and turned his head to look up at me, expression thoughtful. “I like you.”
I grinned at him. “I like you too.”
“Aw,” Sky said, overhearing. “Look at the feels.” She rushed our way arms spread wide and wrapped us in a bear hug belying her small size. Brad laughed and copied her.
“Don’t you dare,” I told Lukas when he headed our way, a serious smile on his face. He did anyway, wrapping all of us in his huge reach and squeezing until we all groaned. Tim shook his head like we were all nuts.
“On the happy feels note, I have a bit of bad news to deliver,” Lukas said when he let go.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Really? Burst our bubble?”
He stepped away and held up his hands in surrender. “Not my fault. I’m the little guy on the messenger board for this one. The cemetery is still a no-fly zone today. The department says probably by midweek it will be clear. I know you usually have Saturday tours, Micah. Sorry.”
“I already rescheduled or refunded people for today. Some are going on a ghost tour instead since they wanted the full moon atmosphere for the cemetery and today is the last day of it.”
I hadn’t even thought of that. Did that mean there was another legend somewhere I had to research and add to the garden?
“Tonight is the kid’s tour,” Sky said.
“Yep,” Micah said. “And I’d like to show Alex how to close tonight. So it’s okay that we only have one tour today.”
“Is the kid’s tour different?” I asked.
“Earlier. Starts at 5, is only an hour. It’s focused for kids under twelve. Accompanied by their parents of course, but the stories are more PG and the route shorter. I focus a lot on history that the kids can relate to. Stories of other kids, more often who were heroes rather than victims, though they do like a good creepy story or two.” Micah looked at me. “Are you up for an open-to-close shift today?”
I nodded, looking over the garden one more time. The path was lined with cats, fairy feeders, and monitored by cameras. I felt like it was as safe as I had the power to make it. And while I couldn’t chase away the ghosts that haunted Micah’s thoughts, I hoped to scare off whatever it was that lingered in his garden. Even if it was for a selfish reason like seeing him drop his guard a little.
Chapter 18
Opening the shop was as easy as it sounded. A three-step process of unlocking the door, disarming the alarm, and putting the chalkboard sign on the walk downstairs. The first few hours were stocking, ringing up the steady stream of Saturday customers, and preparing for the kids tour.
Micah plugged in his phone to a little speaker system and played pop music in the shop. I’d never taken him for a Justin fan but had to admit the tunes were catchy. Both Justins.
“Do you have a thing for Justins or for blonds?” I asked Micah.
“I have Taylor on this mix too. Some Pink as well.”
“So it’s the blonds?” I said giving him a big grin.
He glanced at my hair, which was looking good with the help of whatever his little supply of secret Japanese inscribed products were. “Yep.”
The most recent of the Justin pop songs came on and I swept Micah up into my arms for a dance. I was an awful dancer, but that didn’t mean I never danced. He laughed and tried to sway with me. We ended up simply shaking our asses around the store.
Customers laughed and waved when they came in, but no one said anything bad. The song ended and I wrapped an arm around Micah’s waist, pulling him into a hug. We were both breathing hard and smiling. Micah’s expression open and real. Not an act or a mask, but actual joy. I reveled in it, while gifting him with a kiss on the cheek, then let him go so I could attend to the customers.
Micah worked on creating a small backpack full of fun things for each of the registered kids. I stuffed them with stickers, a T-shirt, some well-marked allergy free candy, and a voodoo doll that was really a catnip stuffed cat toy. The pack was a little ingenious as it was all safe stuff that the kids would think was very unique and paranormal.
He also had a box of stretchy fingerless gloves made from shiny fabrics that looked like superhero-type designs. “What are these?” I asked pawing through the box. There was a couple of sets that looked like dragon scales. I pulled them out and found them stretchy enough to fit.
“Sometimes the kids get scared, even though I keep it low key. So they all get a set of superpowers to take with them, just in case,” Micah said. “When the parents sign up the kids I usually ask if they have a favorite superhero. Sometimes the kids are autistic and either love or hate certain colors, so I always have a variety.”
That was insanely thoughtful of him. The gloves went up over my forearms, fitting pretty snug. But if they were kid sizes that made sense.
“You can keep those if you want,” Micah said. “There are only two different sizes and I try to make a few of each pattern so the kids all get what they want. I have more in back too if I run low. They only take a few minutes to make.”
I flexed my arms pretending the gloves gave me magic powers. “What do you think? Do I look like I have superpowers, or like I’m really constipated?” I asked him as I posed.
He laughed. “You’re such a dork.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the ease of his laughter. Some of the wall was coming down around his emotions, and that thrilled me.
The kids began arriving at four thirty, all excited and eyes aglow as they prepared for hunting ghosts. Their parents took pictures as Micah performed a ‘ritual’ on each of them, blessing the kids with ‘magic’ to prevent ghosts from clinging to them. Each kid chose a pair of superhero gloves. I got down on my knees and flexed in poses with them, showing them how to ward off evil with the turn of their wrist. Okay, it was a little gay and over-the-top RuPaul-ish, but no one protested and the kids thought it was great. Then the group shopped until the last of the kids had all arrived.
Finally at five o’clock, with Sky behind the register to cover, Micah and I led the kids and their parents out into the Square to begin their ghostly journey. I quickly learned the reason that there had been no walk-through of the kid’s tour was because there was nothing really scary that could happen on the kids tour. Micah told stories, mostly history, and answered questions.
“Have you ever seen a ghost?” One of the kids asked me.
“Yep,” I told him.
“Were you scared?”
“No. Ghosts can’t hurt you.” At least I didn’t think they could.
“Why do they stick around then?” Asked another girl who had been the sort of smarty-pants of the group so far.
“I’m not sure they do. I think they come to visit when they know people will be by.” I had no idea if I was giving the right answers or not. Me and kids weren’t a normal combination, though Micah seemed a pro with them. In fact, I’d never seen him so engaged as he was with the kids. No mask, no acting, just earnest storytelling.
We passed Lafayette’s Bar and Micah told tales of pirates that had all the kids excitedly searching the streets for signs of men with peg legs and parrots. The plaque on the side of the building gave a brief overview of the property which made me think Micah’s history was spot on. The path around the Quarter was short and detailed. There was not one boo-wiggly on the entire tour.
We ended up back in the Square, all the kids bubbling with excitement having taken pictures with their phones or their parents’ phone and hoping for ghosts to appear. I called for them all to line up, “Superheroes present!” I called.
The kids formed an awkward line and we all posed. The kids with their backpack ghost hunting kits, T-shirts, and superhero gloves, and me looking like a big doofus on the end in my gloves, which Micah informed me were mermaid scales not dragon scales.
“Mermaids are ocean dragons,” I informed him. To which he shook his head like I was too much.
The parents and even Micah snapped pictures. I got hugs all around and Micah got smiles and ‘thank yous’
from the whole group.
Of all the tours so far, this had been my favorite. I got to see a very animated side of Micah as he told stories and answered questions that weren’t all about gloom and doom. The unguarded version of him was a beautiful thing. A little raw, yes, but inspiring.
Once everyone had wandered off to find dinner I snuck up beside Micah and kissed him on the cheek, then took a hold of his hand and squeezed it gently.
“What was that for?” he wanted to know.
“For giving those kids an amazing night they will not long forget. I didn’t even know there was a kid’s tour. I think I like this one best.”
“Just once a week on Saturday’s,” Micah said. We walked together toward the shop. “I think I’m the only one that does them regularly.”
Those kids had thought Micah hung the moon as they listened to the facts. “Bet if all their history classes were like that, they’d be top students in no time.”
Micah smiled. It appeared genuine this time. “I had a history teacher as a kid who told us stories about our school being haunted. Me and a couple other kids often tried exploring the school at night. Got in trouble more than once for being there when we shouldn’t, but we never saw anything. I remember his stories though. Maybe that’s why I became a history buff.”
“Haunted school, eh? You were even hunting ghosts as a kid? Weirdo,” I teased.
He shrugged. “It was all a game back then.”
It was still a bit of a game now. Cat and mouse. I’d posted my pictures to his Facebook group and watched the comments and speculation rise without getting involved, since Micah suggested I leave all of that to the group.
“Kids don’t expect the same things as adults do. Adults want to be terrified. They want to be uncomfortable, even if it makes them angry sometimes. Kids want to feel like there is a purpose to everything. Purpose means safety. That’s why I try to keep it very positive for the kids.”
“Well I think you did an amazing job.” And I’d gotten to see the real Micah, unguarded and joyous, which was a thing to behold. “How come they are only on Saturdays? The kid one?”
“Weekends are easier if kids are out of school or on vacation with their family. Earlier in the day people are on bayou tours and stuff. I found Saturday night at five is the most accessible for families, though I’ve been known to do exclusive tours if someone is visiting and can’t make the Saturday. Some people bitch about exposing kids to the ‘occult,’ but I think it keeps their minds open, questioning, exploring, and learning,” Micah said.
“That makes sense to me. Obviously the parents who bring their kids think so too.”
“Most of the time. I’ve had a few complain because I didn’t focus more on the church, and then others complain when I focus too much on church history. Nothing is ever perfect.”
I tugged him closer and wrapped an arm around his waist so I could draw him in for another hug. “Sorry,” I said. “I needed to hug you. Sometimes I’m touchy-feely.”
He accepted my hug and returned it with one of his own. “I’m okay with touchy-feely.”
We separated and walked a little longer in silence, but Micah tugged me away from the street that would have taken us back to Simply Crafty.
We walked by Café Du Monde and I admitted to myself that the smell of pastry and sugar made me hungry. “Are we in a rush to get back?” I asked him as we passed the shop that made pralines.
“Not really. Sky has the shop until we get there.”
“Good,” I said, pointing toward the praline shop. “Can we get some?” I asked as my stomach rumbled. I needed to get better at eating regular meals.
He narrowed his eyes like he was on to me. “Okay.”
I sighed happily and raced toward the shop. We ate, nibbling pralines and ethnic food from the open market area, while browsing a few shops on the way. I’d found the shop Sky had gotten her fairy light feeders from and used Lukas’s credit card to purchase a handful of large, handmade, dreamcatchers with elaborate colors, beads, and wrapping, with the plan to put them around the windows in Micah’s house.
“I’m going to owe Lukas all of my upcoming paychecks,” I told Micah as he raised a brow at my purchases. “But I figure we should cover the bases of as many religions as we can, right?” The little money I got from my military medical discharge was already going to him no matter how much he complained about it.
Micah shrugged. “I guess.” He obviously had no expectation of anything helping. But that was okay. I had enough hope for the both of us.
Back out on the street Micah looked longingly at a quilt shop nestled into one of the bottom floors of the rowhouses across from the boardwalk where we’d been. “Let’s go in,” I said steering him that way.
“I don’t need more fabric.” His cheeks flushed pink. “I’m already a bit of a fabric hoarder.” Though from what I’d seen he didn’t have all that much and it was very well organized. Unless he had a storage unit somewhere full of the stuff.
“Who said anything about need?” I asked him. “Plus you have me to design for.” It didn’t take him much convincing because he walked with me to the shop, and we left with me carrying two large bags of fabric. My favorite was actually a bit of quilting cotton made to look like it had rows on rows of multicolored baby dragons in funny poses on it. We’d only gotten a yard since it had been very expensive, but I was in love with it. Micah had also chosen a fabric that looked like leather at first, with intricate designs etched into it, only it wasn’t leather. I gladly carried our haul of stuff.
“I could totally see a cool coat or even a kilt out of that one. I’ve never worn a kilt,” I said. “But I’ve always thought it would be badass to wear one.”
“The correct way?” Micah asked.
“Meaning no underwear?”
“Yep.”
“Sure, though I worry a breeze might freeze my balls.”
“Not until December here in New Orleans, but I can make you a kilt.”
“I want to stop by Mary Lamont’s shop and see if she knows what Marc took,” Micah said.
Admittedly it took a few seconds for my brain to latch onto the meaning of his words and the direction of his step. I tugged him to a halt and he turned to look up at me. “Say what?”
“I want to know what Marc took out of the grave, and what the hell they were doing in the cemetery on my night. They closed the cemetery because of her. I think she owes me an explanation.” Micah pulled free from my hand. “You don’t have to come with. You can head back to the shop if you want. I’ll be there in a little bit.”
“Um, no. You realize that her buddy Marc was murdered after she took some possible possessed item from an open grave after slaughtering animals and you think I’m going to let you visit her alone?”
“You don’t know she actually took anything from the grave.”
“I believe Jared,” I said. “Just like I believe him when he said the darkness took his girlfriend. I’d rather the darkness not take you too.”
Micah flinched. “I’m not going anywhere and it’s light out,” Micah said pointing up to the sky. Though the sun was fading. “There are people everywhere. Her shop is right off the boardwalk. She lives above it, though I know she does Saturday night ghost tours too. I hope to catch her before she goes out. I need to know what’s going on. Were they trying to get me in trouble or is this unrelated to me at all?”
I didn’t point out that the last time he’d gone missing it had been light out, though it was on the tip of my tongue. “I don’t think it sounds related to you at all. More that they wanted in the cemetery on your night because it was the full moon and an open grave.”
Micah stared at me for a minute. “You think that’s why?”
I shrugged. “Who am I to explain the mechanisms of crazy people. They tortured animals in a public place after convincing some tourist couple it was a history tour. That tells me something is off in their head. Maybe they lured Jared and Sarah there to use them as sacri
fices too.”
“Voodoo does not condone human sacrifice. That’s a bad stereotype.”
“And you said that these people don’t really seem to be practicing Voodoo,” I pointed out. “So forgive me if I don’t trust them to be on the up and up.”
We glared at each other for a minute, and I had a moment to wonder if this was what a fight would feel like between us. Only I didn’t want to fight. But I needed him safe. “I don’t trust her,” I finally said.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve met with them before.” He walked around me and headed toward Decatur Street.
“For all you know they could be hiding bodies in the cemetery on their nights.”
“I think the guards would have noticed,” Micah said. “Plus Mary isn’t all that big. I could take her in a fight.”
“What if she had a gun or some weird magic spell,” I stepped into his path to make him pause again.
Another shared glare. “I don’t believe in spells.”
“But guns. Guns are very real and dangerous, I assure you.” I had way too many horrific memories of what guns could do.
He threw his hands up into the air in exasperation. “She won’t hurt me in a public place. That would be stupid.”
“And criminals aren’t normally known for high intelligence. All I’m saying is that you’re not meeting with any of them alone again,” I insisted.
He folded his arms across his chest. “It’s only a block down the road.”
“Then you won’t mind me tagging along. At least I can still carry your bags.”
Micah narrowed his eyes. Nothing I said was fooling him at all.
I sighed. “No way I can talk you out of this, right?”
“Correct,” Micah agreed.
“Fuck,” I swore, then reached out to grab his hand. “Lead the way. Let’s get this madness over with already.”
He gave me a brilliant smile which both made me hard and terrified all at once. That smile felt like an omen of heaven and coming doom. Fuck.
He guided us through an alleyway and across a street. Her place was much different than his. Instead of the bright bohemian feel with added snark of Simply Crafty, Mary’s place was dark and cluttered. Every bit of shelf space was covered in tiny statues, incense holders, and knickknacks. Nothing cute or precious like you’d find at a Hallmark. Instead it was endless skeletons, monsters, and zombies. There were no fun T-shirts or hand-crafted shawls, just cases of Tarot cards, bongs, elaborate ‘ceremonial’ candles, and daggers.
