by Unknown
“They are fighting over which spiritualist rituals will be performed at our wedding. Dark-Sider versus the Good-Sider thing.” Neither matter to me. I just wanted to get married to Oscar.
I got up and breathed an exasperated sigh and tugged the edges of my wool cloak around my neck. The weather had turned chilly. Unseasonably so.
“Where are you going?” Izzy pushed herself back up to standing, her posture perfect with her hands clasped in front of her. The crystal eye on her snake ring glistened.
“I have to stop them before they destroy my shop.” With a helpless wave of my hands, I turned, ready to face them.
“Or they will kill each other.” Izzy cackled.
“I’m not worried about them.” I gave Izzy one last look and frowned. “Would you like to go in there and settle this for me?”
She put her hands in the air, with a smile on her face, “I’d eat a bucket full of frog eyes before I step into that war zone with those two.”
Giving myself a little more time, I watched Izzy dart across the street to her shop, Mystic Lights. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I remembered the first time I stepped foot in her store, not knowing it was a disguise for her talented gift of reading a crystal ball and seeing into the future.
“Just tell them to go to hell,” the voice echoed from the bottom of my bag strapped across my shoulder.
“You tell them.” I dug my hand deep in the bag and brought out Madame Torres, my own snarky crystal ball that had helped me get out of a few sticky situations.
The sun was starting to rise above the mountainous hollow of Whispering Falls, Kentucky and reflected on Madame Torres’s ball. Her face took up the entire glass globe.
“It’s your wedding. Besides, you and Oscar didn’t grow up as spiritualists.” Her purple eye shadow laden lids drew down; her long black lashes drew back up in a dramatic sweep. Her red lips thinned. “I don’t see why you don’t just elope.”
“It won’t help solve the issue of the Dark-Sider marrying a Good-Sider.” Coming from two different worlds in the spiritualist community never crossed my mind when my fiancé, Sheriff Oscar Park, asked me to marry him. “When I was Village Council President and combined the two worlds, I just hoped everything would be resolved. But I guess not.”
“I’ll tell you one thing I’m not doing.” Madame Torres appeared bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the confines of glass crystal ball. “I won’t be taking orders from Oscar Park or his little girly wand.” She harrumphed, “He’s like a little fairy twirling that wand around!”
“Girly wand?” I shook my head and dropped her back in my bag. “The last thing I need is for you to misbehave like the rest of the family.”
Meow. The sweetest little white fur ball jumped on the top step and rubbed his body in and out, between my ankles.
“I can always count on you.” I picked up my other familiar, Mr. Prince Charming, and rubbed down his back before putting him back on the ground. There was a small yellow ball next to my foot. “Where in the world did you get this?” I rolled my eyes and picked it up, taking a look at it.
Mr. Prince Charming was known for bringing charms for my charm bracelet to keep me safe and protected, but he’d never brought me a toy.
He danced by the door of the shop, wanting to go in. His long white tail swayed back and forth like a graceful dance.
I threw the ball down the steps and reluctantly pushed the door open.
“I’m not going to stand for this!” Aunt Helena raised her hand in the air, the long sleeve of her cloak falling down to her bicep. “June is a Heal! Not a Park!”
“Not yet,” Eloise said coyly, her mouth turned up in a biting grin.
“Stop it!” I screamed at the top of my lungs before Aunt Helena could bring her hand to the ground and throw around whatever spell she’d concocted in her pretty little red head of hers.
“June, dear.” Aunt Helena swept across the floor in a fluid motion and curled the edges of the red cloak around her. “You must not marry a Park. It is just beyond our spiritual ethics to get married to a Dark-Sider, much less use one of their rituals.”
“I protest!” Eloise slid up on the other side of me. Her emerald eyes had a flame of defiance in them. “Oscar will not get married without the Spirit of the Dark Knight blowing in the midnight hour. It’s not fitting for a Wizard to marry without it. It’s like you’d be taking away everything he stands for.”
Aunt Helena stepped in front of me.
“What about what June stands for?” Aunt Helena’s eyes hooded like a hawk, her thin jaw set. “We must have the ancestral dance performed at midnight!”
“You will have to wait until twelve o’five.” Eloise crossed her arms across her chest.
“You will have to wait until twelve o’five.” Aunt Helena jabbed her long fingernail into Eloise’s chest.
“My Goddess!” Eloise smacked the finger away.
“Stop it!” I stepped in between them and outstretched my arms for them to each take a different corner of the room. “Oscar and I will take care of it.” I wasn’t sure how and I didn’t care, I just wanted them out so I could get started on my All Hallows’ Eve decorations and annual festivities.
“Oh sure you will,” Eloise’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“What does that mean?” I asked and watched Mr. Prince Charming curl up into a ball on the counter next to the cash register where he loved to lay.
Eloise and Aunt Helena gave each other a polite nod and walked toward each other as though they were putting their differences aside.
“You certainly can’t have a Native American wedding ceremony when neither of you are even a tiny bit of that heritage.” Aunt Helena rolled her eyes and nudged Eloise with her elbow.
Agreeing reluctantly, Eloise made a grudging sound.
“For your information, Oscar and I love K.J. and his family. His father had done so much for me and this shop before he died. We respect their culture and are honored K.J. agreed to perform our wedding ceremony at midnight on All Hallows’ Eve after the Whispering Falls festivities shut down.” I pointed to each of them. “You two can either come or not, but I won’t change my mind about K.J. and what kind of ceremony will we be having.”
“We shall see about that!” Aunt Helena drew her hand in the air, sending it down in a fast motion to her side, disappearing in a cloud of red smoke, but not without the potion bottles on the display tables wobbling on their base.
“This is something I must talk to Oscar about.” Eloise bit the edge of her lip.
Both of us were taken out of the moment when there was a knock on the door. We turned to look. The time on the wall clock read it was time to turn the closed sign to open and this disagreement was over. . .for now.
“Good morning, Constance.” I never thought I’d be so happy to see funeral home director of Two Sisters and a Funeral, Constance Karima standing at my shop door at nine a.m.
“Patience has gone crazy!” She shoved her five-foo-tall round frame into the door, knocking me out of the way with her forearm, not missing the toes of my shoes first.
“Owww,” I howled and hopped on one foot, grabbing the other with my hand.
“I’m telling you I don’t have time for all of this.” Constance twirled her hand in the air. “I’ve got a funeral set for this week. Patience has gone nuts! She’s talking to herself. Laughing at herself. Nuts! I need your help!”
2
“J une, I’ll let you take care of this,” Eloise stood behind a heavy breathing Constance, making small circles around her ear and pointing to Constance.
Sure Constance Karima and her twin sister, Patience, were a little strange, but mostly harmless (my toes currently begged to differ). I’d never met a normal funeral home director, especially these two. And they could see ghosts. A spiritual gift I was so glad I didn’t have.
“And don’t forget you and Oscar are coming to get me tonight so we can go to the rehearsal dinner together.” Eloise referred to m
ine and Oscar’s rehearsal dinner—Amethyst Plum, owner of Full Moon Treesort (the only bed and breakfast in our village), had offered the main lodge to host and we were very grateful for her generosity.
Her eyebrows rose. She hesitated as though she were waiting for me to confirm.
“I’ll have Oscar call you.” I flipped the sign on the door to OPEN and held it for her to walk out.
I stepped out of the way for a couple of customers. I nodded and grinned as they walked in, shutting the door behind them once inside trying to keep out the stray leaves that had danced up and landed on the threshold of the shop door due to the burst of gusty wind.
“How are you today?” I moseyed over to the customers.
“We love your town.” The shorter of the two women, the one with the heart-shaped face, had thinning dark hair neatly combed back at the nape of her neck. She wore silver-rimmed glasses, a pale blue logoed long-sleeved Polo shirt and a pair of khaki pants.
“Would you like some warm apple cider?” I asked. It didn’t take using my intuition to tell me the goose pimples on her neck meant she was cold.
“We would love some.” The other customer stepped up looking fresher than a daisy. Her white hair hung to her shoulders. Her deep blue eyes popped against the peach colored lipstick. Silver chunky earrings hung discreetly from her lobes. Silver bracelets jingled on her wrists as she picked up the different potion bottles, unscrewing the top, taking a deep whiff, and then replacing the bottle back on the display table, albeit not in the correct spot.
“Great, you are going to love it.” I curled a piece of my black hair around my ear and turned on the heels of my black wedge boots to walk over to the nook next to the door where I had a small table with a cauldron full of warm apple cider fresh from A Gathering Grove Tea Shoppe.
I walked over to the warm cider and closed my eyes. I straightened my shoulders, took a nice long, deep breath, alerting my intuition to get a vibe of what these women really needed from me.
“Junnnne.” Constance drew out the syllables of my name with a whining tone. “I told you I need you to help me.”
“I’ll be right with you, Constance.” I held a finger her way, ran my hands down my black sweater and tugged the edges over my jeans.
Constance’s green eyes scowled at me. Her lips and jaw clamped tightly in anger. The Karmina sisters did not like to be dismissed. They were pretty pushy and she wasn’t going to stand down.
“Hurry up.” She ran her hands down her red housedress and scooped up Mr. Prince Charming off the counter and buried her face into his fur. “Good, kitty, kitty, kitty.”
Mr. Prince Charming wriggled and wriggled until he was dragged back into her grip and nestled up against her bosom.
“You sure are a fiery little cat.” She tucked him up under her armpit and used her free hand to push her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose.
“Here you go.” I held the china teacups of cider out for the two customers to take. “How can I help you today?” I asked in my best honeyed voice.
“My daughter here is getting married.” The fancier of the two women patted the shorter one.
“Congratulations.” I clapped my hands together in front of me and turned my attention to the bride-to-be. “I’m getting married tomorrow. When is your wedding?”
The mother stepped in front of us; the daughter took a step back, head to the ground. One hand picked at skin next to the nail on her other hand.
“Her hair is falling out and it needs to be restored. This is some sort of homeopathic place. We’ve tried everything and nothing works.” The cantankerous woman continued to babble.
My intuition began to take over. My heart beat faster and faster at the anxiety the mother was giving me and I wasn’t even her daughter.
“I mean look at her.” The mom stepped aside and put her hands out to display her daughter. “There is no way her hair is going to be nice and full like yours.” She reached out to touch my hair and I tilted my head away to the side. Slowly the mother pulled her hand out of the air and away from my personal space.
“I know I can help you.” I smiled, narrowed my eyes and directed my comment to the mother. “Do you love begonias?”
“I do.” The mother drew her hand up to her chest.
“Ordonata to be specific.” I let out a long sigh as the sweet smell of the begonia circled around my ankles, up my legs, taking a couple of twists around my waist before it shot up in my nose. It was the mother who needed the potion, not the daughter.
“How would you know that?” she asked with sharp eyes and pressed lips.
“Woman’s instinct.” I took her by the elbow and walked her to the wall, getting her closer to the empty bottles in which I put my custom potions. I wanted her vibe to fill the space. The bottles would pick up on her aura and let me know which bottle was best for the potion I was going to create. “You look like a woman who would love a nice begonia.”
“Yes.” She pulled away from me. “But this is for my daughter, not me.”
I turned my head to the side and glanced back at the daughter, giving her a little wink. A big smile crossed her lips and her eyes twinkled.
The bride-to-be and I both knew her mom was the issue.
“I’m going to give you both a nice product to use. For you, I’m giving you some wonderful lotion to put on your feet at night.” My eye slid over to the bottles on the wall. One was glowing. “The mother-of-the-bride has to keep herself up too. And your feet will take a beating with all the planning and I bet you are going to do a lot of dancing.”
“Oh, we have a twelve piece orchestra and a live dance band.” Her shoulders lifted, her blue eyes lit up. “You know,” she leaned in closer to me and whispered, “I am a tad bit stressed about this hair business. I’d love a special foot lotion.”
“Perfect.” I winked and nodded as though she were telling me a secret I didn’t already know. “I’m going to go right behind my counter and mix up some wonderful herbs that will help do the trick. For both of you.” I assured her, but knew the real potion was going to be for her. “I’ll be right back.” I pointed toward the cauldron of cider. “You go on and get you a refill on that cider.”
The woman and her daughter hurried over to the cauldron.
“June, it’s my turn.” Constance set Mr. Prince Charming down. He scurried off before she could get her hands on him again.
“Constance, I’m going to have to come down and visit with you when I’m not so busy.” The bell above the door dinged. The wind whipped in along with a few giggles from the entering customers. “I will talk to Patience and see what I can do for her. But you and I both know that Number One in the By-Laws states that spiritualists can’t read other spiritualists without their permission.”
“I’m not asking you to read her. She’s lost her marbles and I know it, so you need to give her something to fix it.” Constance shoved her hands deep in her fluffy hips, her beady eyes stared at me, magnified under her glasses.
“I’m not a doctor. I can’t promise anything, but I do promise I’ll come down there and see her.” I patted her on the back before I walked behind the counter and disappeared behind the partition that kept my real potion cauldron out of sight.
Tourists had no idea Whispering Falls was full of witches and psychics. And our stores were truly fronts for our gift. We liked to refer to our little community as spiritualists. Spiritualist was a happy term to the ear, more so than the negative connotation the word witch gives people.
We definitely weren’t the wart-on-the-nose witches, more of the wanting to help make the world a better place—and this bride-to-be definitely needed me.
I flipped on the cauldron and ran my finger down the line of ingredients on the wall behind me.
“Okay,” I talked to myself and touched the special ingredient bottles. “Let’s get to work.”
My soul lifted and a spark lit inside me. The stress of Aunt Helena and Eloise melted away as I did what I loved.
The Argentum Nitricum bottle shimmered and glowed at the touch of the pad of my finger. I plucked the bottle and uncorked the top, dropping a couple dashes into the cauldron. The mixture of the base of the potion and the Argentum Nitricum didn’t froth and boil.
“Needs something else.” I replaced the special ingredient back on the shelf and continued touching the rest that followed. “Skullcap.” I bit back the thoughts in my head and resisted grabbing the Asafetida, which was used in exorcisms. I held in a giggle thinking about slipping some into Aunt Helena and Eloise’s drinks. “Skullcap,” I said again, resisting the urge to stick the bottle in my pocket. “I could give them a little Skullcap to stop stressing,” I whispered to myself.
Mr. Prince Charming came around the corner of the counter. A couple of seconds later the small yellow ball I had thrown off the steps of the shop showed up.
“Mr. Prince Charming.” I groaned. “Don’t be dragging nasty toys in here.”
Hiss. He batted the air before he scampered back around the counter. I kicked the ball with my toe to get it out of the way. It rolled back. I ignored it as I heard someone approaching.
“Good morning, June!” Faith Mortimer walked around the corner and poked her head around the partition before she stuck her purse under the counter. “I’ve got a great idea for the window.”
The perky blonde bounced on her toes in delight. She wore a pair of jeans, pink Chuck Taylor shoes, and a pink sweater. Faith’s spiritual gift is Clairaudience—she has the ability to hear things that are inaudible to the rest of us. Her gift was a perfect fit for her job as the Whispering Falls Gazette editor. She worked for me part time. Plus she worked for her sister, Raven, at Wicked Good Bakery as the delivery girl. It still cracked me up to see her driving the small car with the giant cupcake on top.
“Great! I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” The Skullcap bottle pulsed with red under the touch of the pad of my finger. I grabbed it and unscrewed the top, tapping a couple dashes in the cauldron.
