Opal Fire

by Barbra Annino

  There are moments in my life I am not proud of. Like the Christmas Eve I replaced the Virgin Mary with the Goddess Diana on our neighbor’s lawn because she refused Aunt Lolly’s cookies. Or the time I inhaled a little too much wine and flashed a tour bus; and, well, this one.

  We were standing in the back parking lot of the Black Opal where Fiona had applied a mixture of lavender oil, comfrey, and chamomile to my arm. Thor sat near the dumpster, on the lookout. A tiger’s eye dangled from the tassels of his cape and he kept trying to eat it.

  “Birdie, I am begging you to take this somewhere else. You cannot have an Imbolc ceremony here right now,” I said.

  “And why not? What better way to honor the Great Goddess than at the scene of a fire?”

  I felt a migraine coming on.

  “Because for one thing, they don’t need any more uncontrolled blazes.” I nodded towards Lolly who liked to play fast and loose with the matches. She was chugging the ceremonial wine and I was thankful because for some reason alcohol sharpened her senses.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not going to light a bonfire,” Birdie said.

  Whew. That was a relief. Then I heard the distinct sound of a lighter flicking.

  Lolly was snapping a lighter beneath what appeared to be a homemade cigar.

  “Lolly, stop that,” I said with a wave of my good arm. Fiona was still patching me up.

  “You just said no fires,” I said to my grandmother, louder than I should have.

  Birdie paused and lifted her shoulders. “A smudge stick of sage, dear, for cleansing. Lolly, let’s get on with it.”

  Lolly fumbled around inside her cape and produced a bottle of milk, a poppy seed cake, and a bouquet of heather and myrrh. She set everything at the back entrance.

  My mouth fell open. She was like Batman, except female, much older and less lucid.

  “We always come prepared, dear,” Lolly said.

  “But how...”

  “Fiona, is she ready?” Birdie interrupted, her voice authoritative.

  No I was not.

  “Yes, all better,” sang Fiona.

  “Lolly, the cross,” said Birdie. Lolly hung what I recognized as Brighid’s cross on the doorknob.

  “Now, the stones.”

  She opened her cape again and I tried to peek in, but I didn’t see any pockets or purses. She pulled out four gemstones; an amethyst for protection, a bloodstone to banish evil, hematite to purify smoke, and a fire opal to release the demons of the past. She placed the stones on the threshold.

  This was nothing like the Imbolc ceremonies of my childhood.

  Birdie waved the sage cigar all around the doorway and chanted. Then she removed the caution tape and stepped inside.

  I turned to Fiona. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean, dear?” She had taken her place to face the north wind. Lolly picked up the cue and found her place to the east and grabbed my hand. They both bowed their heads.

  “Okay, if we’re doing a spell to heal the business from the harm of the blaze, shouldn’t Cinnamon be here?”

  “This isn’t for the business, Anastasia.” Birdie returned behind me, prompting me to jump out of my skin. She was excellent at undetected entrances. This is why I rarely misbehaved as a kid under her roof. She took her place to the south and grabbed my hand too.

  Holding hands in a dark alley with my grown relatives while my dog took a leak on the sidewalk, I could actually hear my credibility as a reporter crack.

  “Alright, that’s enough.” I dropped their hands and removed my hood. “What’s this about?”

  “I thought reporters were good listeners,” said Birdie.

  Geez, if she was trying to drive me insane she was working it well.

  “Give me a hint,” I said.

  Lolly flapped her arms and said, “Bat, bat, bat, bat.”

  “Right, the bat. Okay, what about it? It was dead in the woods? It flew from behind a shutter? What?” I asked.

  Fiona and Lolly shook their heads and Birdie turned to face me. “We were preparing for the ceremony and it flew through the hearth. Then it circled the kitchen three times before Fiona opened the back door to release it.”

  I was nodding to show her I was listening and to keep from screaming.

  Fiona said, “A bat in February is a bad sign, Stacy. It means betrayal.”

  “But a bat that circles the house exactly three times is worse,” said Birdie. She narrowed her eyes.

  “Why? What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Death has paid a visit.”

  Fiona once told me that Birdie made no mistakes. This time, however, I suspected her circuit breaker had blown a fuse.

  Who in my family would betray another? And if death had paid a visit then the joke was on him because we all escaped that fire unscathed.

  I voiced this to Birdie who put her forehead to mine and whispered, “Not everything is as black and white as the newspaper your words are printed on, my darling granddaughter. Sometimes you have to read between the lines. The message will be clear when the time is right.” She popped me on the rear.

  A short while later, we finished the spell and Lolly was packing up. I don’t know where she put everything because she wouldn’t let me look. Maybe she had a tool belt beneath her cape.

  Fiona came to me, kissed me on the cheek and said, “Don’t worry. If anyone can overcome, it’s you.” She tied her hood and followed Birdie.

  I resisted the urge to ask “overcome what?”

  Then I remembered it was cold, I wasn’t about to wear this cloak around town, and I had no ride.

  “Wait, can you drive me and Thor home?”

  Lolly smiled at me, waved and said, “It’s Cinnamon.”

  I scanned the street. “Where?” I asked just as my phone started belting out a Stevie Nicks tune.

  I flipped it open.

  “Stacy?” It was Cinnamon.

  How did she do that?

  “Hang on,” I told her. I lifted my head to tell Birdie and the aunts that Cin could pick me up but they were gone.

  I sighed. “Hey, cousin.”

  “You have to come and get me. Mama is driving me batty and Mario is on his fourth grappa.”

  I thought that was an interesting word choice. “Mario’s there?”

  Mario is Angelica’s brother from the old country who visits now and then to the delight of no one. He bathes in Old Spice, sells junk from a shoebox, and has a problem holding his neck up whenever he talks to a woman. Any woman.

  “Yes, and he’s getting sleazier by the minute. Get me out of here. We’re still at the bakery. Mama won’t fight me if you’re here.”

  “Cin, I need clean clothes, a coat, and a shower. I was just about to ask you to come get me.”

  “Tony went by your place and picked up a few things already. I’ve got all that and he fed Moonlight.”

  Moonlight is my cat, who has learned to love Thor. The three of us live in a small cottage behind the Geraghty Girls’ House. It was decorated by Aunt Fiona, so it looks more like a honeymoon suite at a Poconos resort than a Thomas Kinkade painting.

  “Okay. I’ll meet you at the back door.”

  “Thanks,” she said and hung up.

  I looked at Thor.

  “Come on, we have to go get Cinnamon.”

  Thor made a disgusted noise and sat down.

  “Thor, up. We have to go.” I tugged at his collar, which was futile. The dog was solid as a truck. Sometimes he could be incredibly stubborn, usually when I least wanted him to be. This might have gone smoother if I had a leash but it was still behind the bar.

  “Thor, let’s go. NOW,” I said as sternly as I could.

  He let out a wail like a tornado warning and put on the brakes. That was his hunger call. “Thor I am not going in there just to get your four cans of Meaty Dog. Stop acting so spoiled. I’ll get you a doughnut at the bakery.”

  Thor tossed his head back and bayed.

  “
Fine, a dozen.”

  He plopped down and turned his head away from me.

  I squatted behind Thor and pushed to no avail. It was either leave him there or take a trip to the basement of the Opal and get his dinner.

  Not sure I made the right choice.

  I tipped through the back door of the Black Opal, stepping over the caution tape that Birdie had ripped down.

  Sage still permeated the air as I scanned the room. Paintings clung to loose hooks, tables wobbled on their sides. The damage didn’t seem too bad, save for the foamy mess from the firefighters putting out the blaze.

  I gingerly approached the stairs that led to the basement where Thor’s food was stashed, careful to avoid the front windows.

  The beam that separated the back room from the front of the place had crumbled into the floor. Cin always hated those beams. She was saving up to tear them down. She wanted to give the bar a facelift.

  Doubt this was what she had in mind.

  I peered down the cement stairwell but I couldn’t see much, so I fired up my cell phone for some light.

  At the bottom, the stone wall on the left seemed untouched by the fire. The metal shelves were still standing, stacked with napkins, glassware, liquor, and Thor’s Meaty Dog food.

  I took another step forward and aimed the light to the right wall.

  That side of the room was half stone and half red brick, now black and swollen. Loose wires dripped from an opening in the ceiling near a broken window. Bottles of booze had exploded and glass blanketed the floor.

  I crept to the shelves and scooped up several cans of dog food. When I turned back around, something near the corner, behind the stairwell, glimmered.

  I set the cans down and crouched in for a closer look. Wedged between layers of sticky dirt and brick was a bit of gold. I decided to use the bottle opener in my back pocket to uncover the source of the sparkle. It was a nifty little tool equipped also with a corkscrew, a pocket knife, and a nail file.

  The file latched onto just enough chain to extract a long gold necklace. Dangling from the chain was a cross shaped like nails, onyx topping each head. Onyx is great for severing a bad relationship.

  Unfortunately, I knew that from experience.

  “You shouldn’t be poking around down here.”

  I screamed and dropped the bottle opener, nearly wetting myself.

  First he mows me down, then he scares the piss out of me. Was this guy trying to give me a heart attack?

  “Don’t ever do that again,” I said to Derek.

  “Sorry. I heard you come down the steps, but I thought it was your boyfriend so I hid. Didn’t think it’d be too cool if he caught me.”

  I didn’t even ask how he knew who my boyfriend was. That was the casualty of life in a small town. People scoop into your business then hand out cones to anyone who asks for a lick.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

  “Taking some shots,” He lifted up one of his umpteen cameras. “They’ll look hot next to your article.”

  I ignored the bad pun.

  Wait, my article?

  “I told you to tell Parker to get someone else.”

  “I did. But I thought that’s why you’re here.”

  “Oh. No, just picking up dog food.” I pointed to the cans.

  “They don’t have grocery stores around here?”

  I blew a strand of hair from my face. “It’s a long story.”

  “What’s with the cape?”

  “That’s a longer story.”

  “Well, you can tell me on the way out. Ready to hit it?”

  Something was pulling me to that corner. Something strong. I stilled myself, then hinged forward for a closer view. My cape was strangling me at that angle so I unclipped the top hook.

  “Derek, do you have a flashlight?”

  Derek grunted. “What do I look like, Handy Andy?”

  “No, you look like a one-hour photo lab.” I squatted down to get another look, but it was too dark.

  “Just point your camera over there and snap a shot, will you? Maybe the illumination will highlight the area and I could get a better look. “

  “Or maybe you’ll just get a clear picture? I hear they last longer.”

  Okay, that was stupid of me but it had been a long-ass day.

  “Just do it.”

  Derek aimed the camera, twisted a few knobs and punched a button. The flash revealed nothing more than the charred brick wall, with a few bricks missing.

  “We done here?”

  I sighed. “I guess.” I bent to pick up the bar tool and the necklace, the cross hot in my hand.

  “Shh.” Derek put his finger to his lips.

  I heard it too. Footsteps.

  “Go,” I said. Derek took the stairs two at a time.

  I shoved the opener and the necklace in my jeans pocket, gathered the cans, and sprinted up after him.

  It might have gone well, too, if that damn cape hadn’t clung to a nail and yanked me back.

  The dog food went flying and my hand caught just enough rail to land on a case of wine. I tried to jimmy free but my ass was stuck. And wet.

  “Who’s down there?”

  Not sure how he did it, but Leo managed to shine a beam of light right at my face.

  I delivered my sexiest smile. Which was the only part of my body not covered in muck.

  He shook his head and put a finger to his mouth.

  That was the second man that had shushed me in the space of five minutes.

  “All clear, Mayor. Must be a mouse.”

  A mouse? There were mice down here? Son of a bitch! I hate rodents. But- oh, he probably just meant me. Duh. A little bit of that Northwestern degree chipped away each day I lived in this town. Man, I needed a drink. Which was ironic since I was sitting on a box of them.

  “Leo, I thought I told you to ward off the building. It’s wide open back there,” the Mayor said.

  Mayor Ritsos is Leo’s uncle. He brought Leo in from Chicago to appoint as chief after Cin’s father died. Uncle Deck was the chief of police in Amethyst for years, which may have something to do with my cousin’s anger management problem.

  The Mayor was not my biggest fan. It was not clear why. But if I had to guess, I would say he felt Leo’s involvement with a woman whose family danced naked under the full moon on mid-summer’s eve, might hurt both their careers.

  Who could blame him?

  “What do you mean?” asked Leo. “I had caution tape across there.”

  Oops.

  “Well it’s not there now,” the Mayor said.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Leo said.

  “See that you do. I don’t want anyone wandering in here and getting hurt. I want this place locked up until I get a report on what caused the fire. Tommy, what do you think?”

  Tommy Delaney was the fire chief. He was a few years ahead of me in high school.

  “Can’t say yet. I suspect an electrical short. There’s a busted fixture down there and some burned out wires.”

  Electrical. Huck was right.

  “Well,” the Mayor said, drawing out the word. “Find out for sure.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right, let’s go.”

  The footsteps tapered off.

  “Just let me secure this entrance. I’ll catch up,” Leo said.

  He ducked down into the basement, shined the light, and said in a low voice, “Do you stay awake at night trying to invent ways to try to get me fired?”

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “Get that burn looked at,” he said.

  “Already did.” I tugged at the cape, indicating my family had taken care of things.

  Leo nodded. “See you later.” Before he turned away he smiled. Uneasily.

  Like he’d won the lottery but lost the winning ticket.

  CHAPTER 4

  I extracted my fanny from the box and snuck out the back door. Thor was waiting near the dumpster and trotted over to me w
hen he spotted the cans of dog food.

  “Hope you’re happy,” I grumbled.

  Thor thumped his tail as I used the bar tool to open the cans of food. His water dish was still outside so I dumped the food in there and he gobbled it up in about three seconds. Then he belched and wiped his face on my cape. The slobber contrasted nicely with the wine stains.

  By the time I got to Angelica’s house, Cinnamon was pissed. “Where the hell have you been?” The scent of vanilla and almonds indicated that Angelica was still baking.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I told my cousin. “I want to change and go get a drink.”

  “Your clothes are in here.” Cinnamon handed me a brown paper bag. “Bye, mama!” she called.

  “Wait, I want to change,” I said as Cinnamon dragged me out the door.

  “Change at the bar. We’ll go to Down and Dirty. Tony is keeping my mother occupied so I can escape for a little while. She’s trying to convince me that we should lend Mario our guest room for a few weeks.”

  Halfway to the bar, Cinnamon lit a cigarette.

  “You’re smoking again?” I asked.

  “I’ve had a rough day.”

  Thor trotted along in front of us and I said, “Monique will not like this. How are we going to convince her to let Thor in the bar?”

  “Easy. I’ll promise not to kill her the next time she hits on my husband.”

  That might work. Monique Fontaine had been a splinter in Cinnamon’s behind since we were kids. Her real name was Monica, but she likes French perfume, French toast, and French men. Not to mention Spanish men, Italian men and African-American men, but you get the picture.

  Monique has had the hots for Tony for years, so when he married Cinnamon it really steamed her up. She takes every opportunity to try to seduce him when Cin isn’t looking. Of course he’s so in love with his wife that he tells her every time. Which only fuels Cinnamon’s anger. Monique finally realized that her facial features were exactly where she wanted them so she needed a new way to antagonize my cousin. Hence, the bar Down and Dirty. It’s located directly across the street from The Black Opal.

  Cin said, “I’ll have to check it out sooner or later. Might as well be tonight.”