by Iris Kincaid
A house! Beryl was thrilled speechless. A home. A roof over her head that actually belonged to her. Of, course, she’d have to share it with these other two, but there was plenty of room. Maybe they could even renovate it into three separate apartments way down the line. That was obviously going to cost money that she didn’t have.
“There is one major condition of this bequest,” Mr. Godfrey continued. “The three of you must occupy the house for two consecutive years in order to claim the inheritance. If one of you defaults on this requirement, the others will forfeit the house and it will be deeded to a local charity. All must agree or none will inherit. Furthermore—”
“Furthermore, nothing. Was he insane? Stay in this little town for two years?” Lucinda sputtered. “This is not Malibu. This is not where my life is. This is not where my career is. This is not where VIPs with big bucks are. I couldn’t even stay in this dinky little town for two months. Much less two years. I would die of boredom, and that’s the least of it.
“Right now, I’m one of the hottest agents in town. But L.A. is a big town with a short memory. If I left for two years, no one would even recognize me if I came back. It would be throwing a can of gasoline on my career and lighting a match to it.”
“Same here” Mosh said emphatically. “I get paid to travel and talk about it. Staying anywhere for two years is not traveling. I’ve worked five years to get the momentum that I have. There’s no such thing as a travel blogger who doesn’t travel. And I know there are some bloggers who are based in some really happenin’ spots like London or Bangkok or New York, and they can churn out a ton of content on their city and still have a steady audience.
“But I’m sorry. Small towns like this are great or a two- or three-day break from the day to day bustle. But after four days, I go really crazy in the small towns. I’ve done so many of them because my audience likes to see the variety. And everyone likes to fantasize about the wholesome small Mayberry by the lake kind of thing. But, no, absolutely not. Just like Lucinda said, it would absolutely kill my career. And for what? I’m sure the house is worth something, but it’s not worth giving up our lives for. Am I right?”
Beryl’s heart sank to its lowest level as the only people who could help her out of the pit of insecurity were the two self-satisfied sisters who were adamantly declaring that their lives were too wonderful to sacrifice for the only chance Beryl was likely to ever have for a secure roof over her head. They were going to ruin everything for her. Everything that her father had intended for her to have.
“And you, Ms. Beryl Shimmer. What are your thoughts on the matter?” Mr. Godfrey inquired.
“It hardly matters,” Beryl said robotically. “I can’t accept the house by myself, and the other two won’t do it.”
Mosh and Lucinda were both taken aback. It hadn’t occurred to them that any one of them would consider this to be an appealing offer.
“Beryl, did you really want to live here for two years? But what would you do? Or maybe you have some kind of work that you can do remotely?” Mosh asked.
“Yeah, I don’t think we ever found out exactly what it is that you do,” Lucinda added.
There they were, her two successful siblings, waiting to hear what she had made of her life. What did it matter what they thought of her? All of a sudden, the humiliation of revealing the shambles of her life was less disturbing to her than the lost opportunity they were snatching from her.
“I don’t have a job. I don’t have a career. I don’t have anywhere else to be. I lost my job almost two years ago, and I broke up with my boyfriend almost three months ago, and I’ve been living in my car ever since. If Gwynifer hadn’t sent me gas money, I couldn’t even have driven here. And now I have about sixty dollars left to my name.
“So, yeah, I do actually want to live here and know that I’ll have a roof over my head for two years. And to have an asset that we could sell at the end of it that could give me cash in the bank to go to school or get some training. I always wanted to . . .” It was hard to share her dream of becoming a pharmacist with all these strangers. It would strike them as such a pie in the sky fantasy.
Beryl could hardly meet the gazes of her newfound siblings. She knew she’d only find some combination of pity or disgust, which on top of the dream of her inheritance being blown to bits was more than she could handle.
“I am glad to see that one of you is ready to accept the terms,” Mr. Godfrey said. “Perhaps after I read the remainder of the bequest, the other two may be willing to reconsider. Specifically, you may want consider the cash portion of the bequest.”
“I doubt it will make up for two years’ of lost commissions on prime property,” Lucinda challenged.
“You would be making a very fine income indeed if you can’t be tempted by two and a half million dollars. Each.”
This announcement was met with a satisfying silence. Then nervous laughter and sputtering.
“You’re saying that our father had seven and a half million dollars? And we each get a third of that?” Mosh asked incredulously.
Mr. Godfrey nodded.
“Each. Two and a half million dollars cash, each?” Beryl needed to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating. This was wealth beyond her wildest dreams.
“However, the same condition applies. The cash would be awarded two years after joint residency in this home, along with a third of a share of the home itself, whatever you decide to do with it.”
“How? How did he—our father—ever get ahold of that kind of money?” Lucinda asked.
“Your father amassed quite a fortune in the stock market due to his . . . uniquely acquired insight,” Gwynifer said guardedly.
Mr. Godfrey shook his head disapprovingly. “That doesn’t sound entirely like something I would approve of.”
Gwynifer stared him down. “Oberon Shimmer would not have taken any interest in your approval.”
“I just believe in hard work is all. But different strokes—” Mr. Godfrey grabbed his throat as he started coughing uncontrollably.
“He needs some water,” Beryl said, turning to go to the kitchen.
“That’s quite all right. I’m sure that he has some water in his car. Off you go, Mr. Godfrey.” And with that, Gwynifer opened the front door and unceremoniously ushered the coughing man out. Whew! He had certainly gotten on her bad side, and Gwynifer’s patience was clearly a limited resource.
“Well, our father certainly did know how to dangle a carrot,” Lucinda noted. “Although I still have no idea why he thought having us drop our lives and move to this little town was even a remote possibility.”
“It’s a shame, ’cause the money would have been nice,” Mosh agreed. “But there’s no amount of money in the world that would be a good tradeoff for giving up everything I’ve worked for.”
Beryl looked from one sister to another in total disbelief. “Okay, help me out here. You two are thinking this over, and I have no idea what there is to even think about. You’ve both got great careers. Which is great. But this inheritance is going to give you a lot more money than your jobs were bringing in. A whole lifetime of security. Okay, maybe not in L.A., but it still gives you $100,000 spending money per year for the next twenty years. That’s a lot of extra security, even if you do go back to your job.”
“But that’s just it. Am I really going to be able to go back to my job? I’m working on a remote sale right now with overseas investors. Even if that goes well, even if my office suddenly wanted me to specialize in remote sales, I would never recover from leaving L.A. I would be yesterday’s news. I’d be off everyone’s party list. People would think that I was in rehab. Because that would be the only possible explanation. No one just leaves. Not when they’re on top. And I am so on top. I worked hard to get there. This is the life I worked for. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”
“That’s it for me too,” Mosh groaned. “It’s who I am. I’m free. I’m a traveler. I’m not tied down to any place, any person, or anything. A l
ot of local people I meet have felt sorry for me because I don’t have any family. And I go ahead and let them think that theirs is the best way and the only way to be happy. But it’s not. I wish . . . I wish I had known my mother. I really, really do. But my foster family was okay. They didn’t “get” me, but I can’t blame them for that.
“But I’m really quite grateful that I don’t have any family obligations weighing me down. I know most people wouldn’t understand. But I don’t want to spend my entire life, or half my life, or even a few precious years of my life tied down to a place I don’t want to be. That’s what I see family doing to people.
“Why would I let that happen to me to me? Because of our father? Because of a potential inheritance? I would just as soon face a prison sentence. I wouldn’t be who I am anymore. A blogger. A traveler. And if that’s true, then who would I be? What would I be?”
There was so much existential angst in the air, Beryl didn’t know if she had the patience to handle it. These other two might be contemplating a crisis of identity, but she knew exactly who she was—a homeless woman whose father had cared for her and provided for her. And she was not going to let these “sisters” screw things up for her.
“I’m going to take a walk,” Beryl said. Best to leave the room before she erupted in a tirade against these irritatingly entitled brats.
Two and a half million dollars was more than enough to start over again. It was so close, she could almost taste it. How was she going to talk some sense into them? She looked pleadingly at Gwynifer, desperately hoping the older woman’s persuasive abilities would win the day. Gwynifer gave her a silent nod of reassurance. Great. Great. It seemed as if she had some kind of plan. But what could it be?
“Let’s all go to the kitchen, have our supper, and discuss this matter calmly,” Gwynifer said, and it sounded much more like a command than a suggestion.
They all followed her meekly.
“Sit.”
The girls obeyed as Gwynifer ladled a delicious stew into four bowls.
“Eat.”
It had been a long day of traveling for all of them. They were all ravenous, and Beryl was grateful to have a few moments of distraction from the hopeless situation that was unfolding.
Gwynifer watched them finish their plates and nodded, satisfied. “I am sure this will come as something of a great shock to you, or at least it would if you believed me, but you will come to believe me, and there’s really not time to coddle you in this matter. Your father was what he was.”
“And what was that?” Lucinda asked, looking at Gwynifer like at a slightly dangerous lunatic.
“He was a wizard. The finest this town has ever seen.”
Her “shocking” announcement was greeted with puzzled confusion.
“What kind of wizard? Oh, you mean, like a tech wizard? He was a coder and troubleshooter with computers?” Mosh guessed.
“No. Not a tech wizard. Good heavens, he never even owned a computer.”
“Was he a wizard around the house, like a handyman-DIY wizard?” Beryl wondered.
“Drywall and plumbing hardly qualify as wizardry.” Gwynifer sighed.
“Well, what kind of wizard was he?” Lucinda asked, stifling her impatience.
Gwynifer cocked her head. “Spells. Incantations. Amulets. Curses. Healing. Mind control. Clairvoyance. Astral flight. Thought reading. Thought transference. Telekinesis. And walking invisible. Not a complete list, but I think you get the idea. He was a master of the realm of magic. He was very much a leader of the magic community here in Marvel Canyon. You have every reason to be proud of such a distinguished association.”
The young women’s expression had gone from confusion to amusement on the part of Mosh, irritation on the part of Lucinda, and a fascinated expression on Beryl, who was every bit as disbelieving as the other two but knew they had just walked into a rather extraordinary situation, if only in having the world’s biggest liar in Gwynifer.
“I did not expect you to believe me. But you must be fully aware of your situation before you can make an informed response about your inheritance.”
She fixed her eyes on Mosh’s hair. “Pink is a lovely color. But then, so is blue.”
Mosh could tell from the thunderstruck look on Beryl and Lucinda’s faces that something remarkable had just happened. Her hair was long enough for her to have a good look at the bottom five or six inches, and they had turned a vivid turquoise blue.
They all gasped. This was clearly some kind of sleight of hand. But how had Gwynifer set it up? Was Mosh in on the joke? She sure didn’t look like it. The easygoing Bohemian spirit actually looked as if she having an out and out panic attack.
“How did you do that?” Lucinda demanded.
“Child’s play,” Gwynifer said. “By the way, that looks like quite an expensive purse. What label is that?”
“Fendi. It’s a very limited edition. All of my clients just drooled over it.”
“Why don’t you double-check the label? It may not be quite as drool-worthy as it was a moment ago.”
“Check the label? It’s the real deal, believe me.”
But Lucinda decided to humor the older woman and opened her purse to display the familiar treasured Fendi label. But she almost dropped her purse in horror. Beryl drew closer to look at the label, which now read, Made in Marvel Canyon. Mosh was still fingering her new hair and a bit shell-shocked, and she also came over to examine the bag label.
“But she never let go of her bag. You two didn’t set this up, did you?”
“Of course not. She must have changed bags on me. But this is all my stuff. And there’s a little lipstick stain here that I made a few weeks ago. This is my bag. But . . . and this label is sewn in. Tight. I don’t like this trick. I can’t go back to L.A. with this silly label in my bag.”
“But no one would know about it if you didn’t tell them,” Beryl noted. It was a strangely practical thought that crossed her mind in the face of other possibilities that were too incredible to comprehend.
Gwynifer nodded. “It is the changes on the outside that draw the most attention. Speaking of which, that is not a suitably festive outfit for the return of The Lost One. The occasion warrants something much grander.”
And all of a sudden, Beryl’s shabby wrinkled outfit was replaced by a lovely violet and sky-blue dress. She looked as if she was going to an upscale party and that she was going to be the best-dressed woman there. Even without a mirror, Beryl could look down and tell what a striking appearance she must make. It had been a long time since she had felt so glamorous, so worthy of the red carpet.
“I need my pink hair,” Mosh said. “Right now, please. I really, really need my hair back.”
“Not in the mood for a little variety? Well, perhaps you’re right. The pink does suit you very well.” And with the smallest wave of the hand, Gwynifer restored Mosh’s hair to its original pink.
“And my bag,” Lucinda insisted. “I want my bag back.” As if having her label restored would help to convince herself that this confounding event had never happened.
“Very well. Although since you are such a fan of exclusive things, I thought you might appreciate having a label that no one on the face of the earth could claim. Ah, well. There is your Fendi label.”
Lucinda checked her bag and sighed with relief. Designer status had been restored.
“And you, my dear? Shall I get rid of this beautiful frock that works so well with your eyes and your lovely figure?”
“I’ll keep it, if you don’t mind,” Beryl whispered. “I don’t really have anything as nice as this.”
“My head is about to explode,” Mosh moaned. “Just when I thought I had seen everything there is to see.”
“So . . . so . . . so you’re trying to tell us that you’re a witch,” Lucinda said.
“I am trying to tell you a great deal more than that,” Gwynifer said. “You are the daughters of Oberon Shimmer, a wizard of great ability and great renown. His blo
od flows in your veins. And just as you received those piercing green eyes of his, you have received an inheritance of far greater worth. You are powerful creatures, every single one of you. Though the power of each will manifest itself in differing abilities. But I have no doubt that with proper guidance, your powers will match or exceed my own.”
The three girls exchanged alarmed and still skeptical glances.
“Look, maybe you think you’re a witch. I don’t know. I can’t really explain what you just did. And maybe our father thought he was a wizard,” Lucinda responded. “But I’m just a normal person. You know, in an exceptional kind of way. But essentially, a normal human being. There’s not a magical bone in my body. I don’t have any special powers. And I suspect that Mosh and Beryl don’t either.”
The other two young women shook their heads in agreement.
“I think that magic is just something that people wish were true so that they could change their lives and make wonderful things happen. But my life is already wonderful, full of new and exciting things happening all the time. Amazing sights and experiences. I don’t need to believe in magic,” Mosh explained.
“You don’t need to believe in Antarctica or black holes. They are facts of life that are not dependent on your willingness to believe in them. Magic and witches have existed for millennia. Though how we began, I cannot say. But what I cannot convey in words, you will soon feel pouring out of your own bodies and minds.
“In part, you will owe the strength of your new abilities to this reunion with your sisters. Your powers cannot truly manifest without the strength provided by the family bond. That is the disadvantage of not having the opportunity to be nurtured by this town.
“In part, it will be due to your connection to Marvel Canyon, our ancestral home. The greater part of our powers is rooted in this patch of earth. That is why our particular breed of witch is referred to as Earthborn. There is a deep source of energy here that feeds us, amplifies our abilities, so long as we remain in close proximity with it.”
