Playing Cupid

by SC Alban

  I parked on the east side of the square in front of the used bookstore—one of my favorite local places. I rarely ventured into town on the weekend, but when I did, it was almost always because I was headed there.

  The Nook was owned by a woman named Weather Wyld. She was an odd bird, with a thick cerulean streak down the left side of her long, graying hair. She wore bell bottoms most days with peasant blouses. Except for in the winter, when she wore heavy, knitted knee-length sweaters. She always had a killer soundtrack playing in the background and her eclectic taste made for a rich and varied collection of books ranging from beat poets all the way through to the next great YA bestseller. I’d spent many afternoons in the large bay window’s built-in seat at the rear of the store with my latest find. As I stared at the bookstore, a tiny yearning, the smallest tug, urged me to go inside. Go inside. I shook it away. That was weird.

  “Just to give you a heads-up,” Amadeo warned before we got out of the car. “I’ll be masking myself, so don’t be startled when I pop in and out of your sight. You may not know it, but I’ll be nearby. And even though you won’t be able to see me, I’ll still be able to see and hear you, okay?”

  “Well, that’s…disturbing.”

  Ignoring my comment, he continued. “So keep your voice down when you talk to me, and try not to move your lips too much; otherwise, it’ll look like you’re talking to yourself, and that just looks bad. But it’d be worse if we’re seen walking around together. I’ve been known to turn a few heads in my day. Trust me.”

  By this point, I’d caught on that when he used the phrase “trust me,” I shouldn’t ask any further questions. Unless of course I wanted to be treated to a long, meandering, and somewhat condescending speech that had nothing to do with our task at hand.

  I nodded and stepped out of the car. By the time I turned to make sure it was locked, he’d already disappeared.

  “Are you here?” I whispered loudly into the air.

  “Yes, I’m right here.” His voice was directly to my left, making me jump. “You know, you don’t have to whisper, Megan. You’ll look even more conspicuous. Just talk quietly, pull out your phone, pretend to be talking to someone. Just try to act normal.”

  “Oh, right…sure. Normal,” I said, straightening up and walking casually to the sidewalk.

  I took my time meandering around the square, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, though I was too amped up. All I wanted to do was run from store to store as fast as I could, hoping Ms. O’Dowd would appear.

  As expected, she was in The Country Home. Excitement ran through my veins. Luck was on my side today. I peered through the front window, trying to get a clearer view. Ms. O’Dowd examined what appeared to be an oil infuser. Her eyes were focused, her mouth a thin, straight line. I could almost see the passion emanating from her. Were these objects really that interesting to her? I tilted my head to the side and removed all previous thoughts about my teacher.

  Amadeo was right, though I would never admit to it. It would only add to the cupid’s already giant ego. But he had a point. Objectively observing people did allow you to see them in a different way. It was both enlightening and…stalkerish. My shoulders fell a bit. I’d be happy when this was all over.

  As I continued to study her from afar, I became more aware of this new way of seeing her. She had such intense concentration. Her intensity must’ve been present during class, hadn’t it? Huh. For some reason, I’d never picked up on it. I’d always thought she was a bit on the boring side…predictable. A typical small-town teacher. Nothing special. But now, seeing her this way, I could see something different. It was like I was seeing her for the first time. I blinked when I realized what was different. This was the first time I had really paid attention to her.

  Could it have been that I was so focused on graduating, so focused on my own goals, I’d completely disregarded someone I literally had daily contact with? Disappointment washed over me. I’d jumped to such a quick judgment of the woman. I really didn’t know her at all, yet I had still judged her. I’d behaved in the same way I accused this entire town of behaving towards me. The same behavior I claimed to loathe. One of the main reasons I looked forward to getting out of this place. My chest tightened. Crap. I’d been no different. No, I’d been worse. I was the fricking mayor of Judgement Town. When had that happened?

  “That’s her, right? The teacher from the class?” Amadeo’s voice was at my right side, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “Um, yeah, that’s her,” I responded, shaking away the guilt.

  “Hmm, not bad,” he commented. “I wasn’t attuned to her before, but now that I am, it’s clear she’s a very caring soul. I mean, look at her energy, so kind and patient. She’s also open to love.” He paused. “She’s been lonely for a long time. She’s ready to make her match. Yes, this will do quite nicely for our first mark. There’s definitely stuff to work with here.”

  “You can tell all that just by looking at her?”

  “Of course.” I felt him nudge past me before adding, “It’s a cupid thing, don’t feel bad.”

  “I don’t,” I replied. “I’m amazed.”

  We stared through the window in silence until someone whistling caught my attention over the piped-in square music. I cocked my head to allow the melody to flow more freely into my ear. It was a song from my childhood. Mom? My mouth formed the words, and I began singing in my head.

  Something in the way she smiles makes me feel like I’m the only one.

  The whistling grew louder, the song bringing back feelings I hadn’t felt in a long time, and before I could turn around, a man’s voice addressed me.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Cooper.”

  Holy. Crap. What were the odds?

  “Good morning, Principal Higgins,” I said, practically yelling, hoping my loud voice was hint enough for Amadeo to recognize that this man was the possible match I’d mentioned earlier. Principal Higgins stopped short and blinked at me.

  “Oh, well, a very enthusiastic good morning back at you,” he said, his face scrunched as he leaned away from me.

  Perhaps subtlety wasn’t my strongest trait. I bit my lip and tried to ignore the burn in my cheeks as I watched him enter the shop looking over his shoulder once more at me before disappearing into the store. Amadeo’s voice came from right next to me.

  “You know, cupids have excellent hearing.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So there’s no need to yell,” he said.

  “I know,” I snapped in a hushed whisper. “I don’t know why I did that. But look. He’s here. I mean, what is the chance of that happening?” I edged near the door. “And look! He’s just one aisle away from Ms. O’Dowd. Quick, would he make a good match? Would he? What can you tell?”

  “Shhh, calm down and step aside.” I felt his body brush past mine. “Stay cool, Megan, or you’ll blow our cover.”

  I snapped my mouth shut and glanced around. Had anyone heard me? I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t be sure. I forced myself to remain silent.

  “Well…”

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “This will do quite nicely. He’s neat, punctual, and generous. A perfect temperament to balance her. And he’s ready to accept love. I have a feeling these two will complement each other quite well. Nicely done.”

  I beamed.

  “We just may make you a believer in love yet,” Amadeo teased as he brushed past me back onto the sidewalk.

  I turned my head in the direction of his voice. “Wait, how do you know I don’t believe in love?”

  There was a brief pause before he answered.

  “You must’ve mentioned it before.”

  “I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”

  “No? Well, hello? Cupid, remember? I just know these things. It’s part of my charm. Now focus on the task at hand, will ya?”

  I pursed my lips. Was he avoiding the question? I was sure I hadn’t confessed my non-belief in the whole love thing to him. And still, he knew I did
n’t believe. What else did he know? A million questions ran through my mind, all of which were promptly forgotten when he shoved me from behind.

  “Hey!”

  “Let’s go,” he ordered, directing me to the store. “It’s time.”

  “What?” My palms instantly turned clammy. “Do I shoot the arrow now?”

  “Whoa, slow down there,” he replied. “Have you not listened to anything I’ve said? A love match is like an art. Well, more like a science.”

  “Well, which is it? An art or a science?” I snapped. Were all cupids this horribly confusing?

  “What I mean, more specifically, is that love is kind of like the art of a science.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said. “That makes no sense.”

  “Listen, Megan, I’m the expert here, okay? You’re just going to have to listen to me and trust the process. You can’t rush love.” He paused, his voice echoing in the air near my ear, before adding, “Well, except this time. I mean, I have to make quota in less than two weeks…obviously.”

  “Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Anyway, let’s go.” I felt a sharp tug on the sleeve of my jacket and followed him into the building.

  The Country Home was cluttered, packed with the typical offerings of a small-town store. The Wiltons had owned the store as long as anyone could remember, and it showed. Their inventory represented each and every year of operation. With pieces spanning from mid-century to present day, it felt more like a museum of the domestic arts than an actual store.

  Once inside, I felt Amadeo’s hands on my elbow—totally strange since he was still invisible—as he ushered me over to a corner behind a display stacked with cookie cutters and candy dishes straight out of the eighties. Once we were settled in, I pulled my arm away from his invisible grasp.

  “You don’t have to be so handsy. I’m perfectly capable of managing my own body. I don’t need to be physically directed,” I huffed, knocking a glass serving bowl off the shelf with my elbow. I watched, in slow motion, as the fragile container dropped to the ground and braced myself for the loud shatter it would make when it hit the floor. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, but the crash never came. I peeked through my lashes to see the bowl frozen in mid-air about six inches from the ground.

  “You were saying,” Amadeo said as the glass dish floated back up to the shelf where it belonged.

  My face flushed and immediately grew ten degrees warmer. Okay, fine. Maybe I did need a little direction.

  “This looks like an area where no one will notice us,” he said as he popped in next to me.

  “Oh!” I jumped at his sudden reappearance.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously? I startled you that much?” He shook his head as he scolded me. “You’ve got issues.”

  “Well excuse me,” I hotly whispered back. “Some of us don’t live in a realm where people just pop in and out of thin air.”

  Rolling his eyes, he ignored my comment and reached into his coat. He pulled out a small satchel from the same inside pocket he tucked his book in. Just how deep was that pocket? He held the satchel in his hand, the hot crimson bag tied closed with a thin, delicate golden rope. It looked soft and velvety. My fingers twitched with the urge to touch it.

  “Okay, prepare the arrow,” he said as he removed the bow and quiver slung over his good shoulder and handed them to me.

  “What?” I almost shouted, losing my nerve. “You mean, here? Now? In the store? But…but people will see me!”

  “Shhh,” he shushed. “Don’t worry about silly mortal things like that,” he scolded as he unfastened the golden bow and snapped the string. “Humans usually can’t see this stuff, genius. They’re magically blocked…mostly. Hiding is a…precaution.”

  I gave him a side-glance.

  “Really? You’re not just saying that? You know, to convince me to do it without arguing?”

  “Seriously. Think about it. Would cupids still be considered mythical creatures if humans actually witnessed people getting shot with golden arrows? Everyone would be after us. The FBI, CIA…TMZ! We’d be targets in no time. We’d be more popular than Bigfoot, poor guy. It’d be mayhem.”

  I bit my lip and forced myself not to ask about Bigfoot. Who was I to question the existence of anything I’d previously thought imaginary? And he did have a point. As far as everyone on Earth was concerned, cupids still belonged in the realm of complete fantasy.

  “Okay,” I whispered as I took the bow and plucked the string before pulling one arrow from the quiver. “But if this goes wrong, it’s on you.”

  Amadeo ignored me as he sprinkled a substance similar to glittering sawdust into the palm of his hand, where it immediately caught the light and glowed.

  “Oh, what’s that?” I asked, bending close over his hand, my face inches from the glittering mound.

  “For goodness sake. Be careful,” he scolded, pulling his hand back and protecting the golden powder. “This is love dust. Very powerful stuff. It activates and amplifies the emotions of love and joy in humans ten times the normal rate of fall. One whiff of this, and you’d be merrier than a leprechaun in a gold mine.” He closed his fist around the precious material. “You stay here. Remember, whatever you do, whatever happens, you must hit that match.” His eyes shot to the dust and then back to me. “And don’t do anything until I give the signal,” he commanded. “Now, watch and learn how a real love doctor does business.”

  “Oh my God, don’t say that again either,” I said as he stepped out into the aisle and popped out of sight. My gaze made its way across the store to where Ms. O’Dowd was perusing cookie jars at an end cap before I realized I was missing crucial information. “Amadeo, what’s the signal?” I whispered after him.

  Too late. Even with his stellar cupid hearing, he must’ve been out of range, and I couldn’t risk giving away whatever inconspicuousness I had left. After all, unlike my magically guarded friend, I was human. I quickly assessed the store for possible witnesses before crouching down, the bow and arrow firmly in my grasp.

  My mouth went dry, and I struggled to swallow the huge ball of nerves lodged in my throat.

  Stop psyching yourself out. You can do this.

  It wasn’t as if I was completely inexperienced. I’d used a bow before. Dad and I used to practice when I was a kid. My palms began to sweat. That was a lifetime ago. Would I still be able to shoot? I was sure the basics hadn’t changed.

  I wiped my hand on my pants and re-gripped the bow. No need to be nervous; I could do this. Regular arrows, golden arrows…it was the same thing, right? I furrowed my brow trying to remember the intricacies of the skill.

  I held the bow with my right hand and gently placed the arrow on the nocking point, lining it up along the sight. My hands began to shake.

  C’mon, relax. You know how to do this. Don’t get distracted. Just focus.

  I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

  “Come on,” I whispered, wondering what the signal would be. What if I completely missed?

  Suddenly, an explosion echoed, and I gasped as a massive cloud of golden dust rose to the ceiling and mushroomed out over the store. My eyes widened as I glanced around. The two other customers in the store appeared completely unaware of the glitter storm as they continued to browse.

  I watched in awe as the dust reached out to the farthest corners of the building and, as if being sucked into a vacuum, shrank back and surrounded the intended target, Ms. O’Dowd, before landing on her arms and shoulders and absorbing into her body.

  “Oh, for Venus’s panties, what are you waiting for?” Amadeo chided, instantly appearing at my side. He was practically shouting. “What about that signal was obscure? Was the glitter explosion too subtle?”

  I snapped out of my trance and looked back to where I’d last spotted Principal Higgins. He was just about twenty feet away from Ms. O’Dowd and just about thirty feet from my hiding spot. With my nerves forgotten, I took aim and let the arrow fly.<
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  I held my breath as the projectile flew through the store.

  As if being guided, the arrow hit Principal Higgins in the upper right shoulder. However, instead of stopping as it hit its target as I’d expected it to, it appeared to melt straight into him until it disappeared completely. Other than lightly scratching the point of entry, Principal Higgins showed no other sign of distress.

  “Oh, thank Aphrodite.” I heard Amadeo exhale.

  “I did it,” I exclaimed. “Did you see?”

  “Shhh,” he replied, waving me off. “Watch this. You’re not going to want to miss it.”

  He pointed as Principal Higgins rounded the aisle and almost knocked down Ms. O’Dowd.

  “Oh, excuse me, Kristen,” he said in a surprised sounding voice as he reached out and helped her regain her balance.

  As soon as he touched her arm, everything Amadeo had said when he spoke about the spark made sense. My lips formed an ‘o’ as it all clicked. There are just some things words can’t describe. Some things you have to see to truly understand.

  I smiled as their eyes explored each other for the first time since the arrow hit, curious and intimate. The lull of conversation turned light and playful, and their non-verbal communication grew to the point of ‘get a room’ status.

  “Huh, that really is something,” I said out loud.

  “Well, our work is done here,” Amadeo stated. “Let’s book it. We’ve still got two more names on the list, and time’s a-tickin’.”

  “Right.” I nodded. “But with my superb aim, we’ll probably knock these next two out with a week to spare.” He shook his head before masking himself once more, snatching my sleeve and dragging me out of the store and into the cold winter afternoon. What was his problem?

  Back at the car, I took a moment to go over what had just happened as I searched for my keys. I had so many questions. We got in, and before I could begin my interrogation, Jay exited The Nook, his strong arms curled around a few books, making them look like doll accessories.

  Wow, his arms are even defined underneath his coat, my inner voice chimed in.

  I shushed it immediately, instead asking aloud, “What’s he doing here?” Of all the hundreds of hours I’d spent in the store, I’d never once bumped into him there.