You're Cursed

by Kat Quinn

  “Yes, such a shame. The most terrible of crimes has been committed in this kitchen! Aside from when Zeke thought boiling a steak inside of a coconut was the next big culinary breakthrough, of course,” Lin says. “How ever will we move on past such terrible treachery?”

  Picking up a small bunch of fruit from the countertop, I shake my head slightly before tossing it to him. “Suppose we’ll just have to keep our eyes and bananas peeled.” Lin cringes slightly at the joke, then briefly flicks out the tip of his tongue like a petulant child. “Help me with the fruit salad, would ya?” I ask, nodding towards his sweet bounty.

  As we chop melons and berries and bananas, the rest of our family slowly filter down the stairs. Zeke arranges plates and bowls, Connor gets to work setting up each of our preferred morning beverages, while Kieran grabs yogurt from the fridge on my request and seeks out a serving spoon. Dizzy’s the last one down, Stubbs and Aria both in tow, happily having a nonsense conversation between themselves.

  Before long, we’re all settled around the kitchen island in our respective barstools, chowing down on melt-in-your-mouth french toast casserole which is, admittedly, basically bread pudding. Between the cold moving in and all the extra training, every craving I’ve had recently is for guilty, decadent comfort food. Nobody seems to mind.

  “Woah, woah, woah, maybe want to come up for air every now and then, buddy?” I direct at Kieran, practically face-first in his plate of food. Pretty sure the spoon in his hand is slowing him down slightly and the only reason he isn’t already on a third helping. “There’s plenty of food, and no real rush. Garrett and Emmaline said they’d open this week so we can afford to take the time to, at the very least, chew our food. Don’t really want to test out my Heimlich skills this early in the morning.”

  Kieran flips me the bird while still shoveling french toast into his gob. Classy. Given that we just defused one massive blowup, I’m willing to let his terrible manners slide. For now.

  “What time are those twins coming in?” Dizzy asks between forkfuls of fruit, sweet juice dribbling ever so slightly down her chin. Connor, one hand never leaving her lap, subtly slides a napkin to her, which she promptly uses to swipe haphazardly at the sticky trail.

  “The twins’ll be in after the morning rush, right around 10am,” I say. Carefully watching the gentle exchange between her and Connor, both of them thankfully oblivious to my potentially intrusive gawking. “I figure we start off their training during the down time today so they can adjust, and have ‘em start bright and early the rest of the week. No sense torturing the poor souls on their first day.”

  “The poor souls? Pft,” Lin retorts, “One of them had quite the mouth on them; can’t imagine they’d appreciate catching even a whiff of pity off any of us.” Lin pops a chunk of melon into his mouth and chews it thoughtfully. “You think I’d be able to sway them into have a bit of fun with the customers? Imagine all the chaos that would ensue if one went away and the other came back! Even with their blatant differences, a more daft patron may not immediately realize the exchange. What delicious potential they could bring to our everyday amusements!”

  “This is a business, not your personal playground, Lin,” I reprimand. There’s a spot right between my brows that starts to pinch together, and I can only imagine the headache it will twist into if I’m left cleaning up some sort of ridiculous aftermath from Lin giving into his more mischievous whims. “We’re to treat the customers with the utmost respect, not trick them for our own fun.”

  “Oh?” He questions, one brow raised in challenge, “And what do you think I do all those ‘readings’ for, hmm?” Lin’s fingers quote around the word before he waves his hands as though brushing away errant thoughts. “Yes, yes, out of the goodness of my heart, but it IS absolutely the most glorious of tricks to pull; discovering all the secrets buried both shallow and deep within our clientele.”

  Disapprovingly, I squint my eyes at him, brows still furrowed in the center. As I tilt my head down slightly, a few thin dreadlocks bounce lightly against the side of my face. “Now you, behave,” My tone is serious, well aware that there is a very thin line between Lin having a good bit of fun, and causing a mess that can’t be cleaned up. “We’ve agreed it’s our responsibility to act with honor and dignity to help those in need. We’re not supposed to be prodding around in the lives of those who aren’t needy just to get our jollies learning things we shouldn’t know. They deserve their privacy just as much as the rest of us, no matter how juicy the tidbits you can collect.”

  Lin places a hand gently on his black vest, above his heart, delicate fingers spread wide. “Monty, I assure you, I am honored to declare that my dignity is as intact as it’s ever been.” There’s smugness in the pride curling his lips, chest puffed just slightly.

  “You know what I mean, don’t throw in verbal acrobatics to dodge the truth of the matter.”

  “Why’s it matter, when truth is the name of the game, oh mighty Lawful McGoody-Two-Shoesman? You know I am literally incapable of lying.”

  Dizzy giggles, quickly covering her mouth with the napkin. I shake my head and exhale lightly, “You’ll only encourage him like that.”

  “Yes! Yes! Encourage me, Love!” Lin tickles his hand up her side, sending her into squirming fits of laughter. “Give me your delight.” He winks at Connor, who looks sideways and tucks his head into himself. “I’ll gobble that deliciousness up and let it fuel my day! Give me enough, and I’ll never go hungry again!” He cackles like a film villain, arms raised high at his sides, fingers spread in taut claws facing skyward.

  “Oh geez,” I say, sighing. “Who knew he could even go mad with giggle power.”

  To be fair, I’m not entirely sure he’s had the chance for such giddiness in quite a long time.

  “We should leave soon,” Zeke states matter-of-factly, standing to rinse his plate clean at the sink. He snaps his fingers at Colonel Stubbs, who barks to attention; obediently waddling to the abrupt man’s side. “We’ll be in the car.”

  24. Connor

  The screeching and crashing and clanging and chatter of the main floor starts to quietly disperse, leaving a soft murmur of activity in its wake. Much more manageable, but only just. Peeking through the porthole window of the kitchen door confirms what the decrease in buzz implies-all the busy bees have made their way to their hives.

  There’s no practical reason to still be hiding in the kitchen-all baking long since completed-but the areas that are ours alone seem to be shrinking; constricting like snakes to squeeze out every last breath of space. Garrett stretches himself far and wide but never thin, always ready to do more. Emmaline flits about on the floor, one less body needed to sate the public, but one more body to duck and weave when there’s a weight too heavy on my head to keep above water. Air. I need air.

  Tossing some mini muffins into a basket and a couple bottles of water, I pull a cloak of illusion tightly around me. Not so tight it’s all there is, but tight enough that to the outside, it’s all there is of me. There’s no need to erase myself deeply, but there’s a tug buried in my gut that twinges with the urge to truly disappear. If I didn’t remember there are actually people this time that would notice, I might not care enough to resist.

  Quickly, my escape is made, darting past everyone in the cafe silently, barely disturbing the air between us. The main door opens and our new employees enter, but I don’t stop to greet them. The atmosphere is too weighty today, thick with the taste of burnt molasses, barely any room left to squeeze through. It sloughs against my skin, sticky treacle swirling like a pit of muck rising rising rising to my chest. Have to get higher. My feet might stick and then I’ll drown.

  Tighter, I wrap the cloak around, squeezing out every single molecule of me, even the air no longer disturbed as I pass. I don’t exist, there’s nothing left that can find me. Even the sun would be hard pressed to cast my shadow. Even my shadow would be hard pressed to cast me.

  Up, through the back of house, a winding
staircase to the roof. Up. Higher. The sludge can’t stick if it can’t find me.

  The door, at last, opens up to a clear sky. Finally, a full breath, lungs expanding like they missed the taste of air, greedy for its crispness.

  A rustling. I snap towards it, ready to run. I should have run before, when I had a chance to. My cloak is tight, impenetrable, even if he comes screaming for me he’ll never find me again. Your father is dead, this can’t be him. You’re confused. You’re not running from him any more.

  The rustling, leaves whispering to each other as their palms slide against one another in greeting. Purple. Gold. Dizzy emerges from behind a trellised vine, smile broadening and lighting up like the sun in greeting.

  “Oh hey there, Connor, wanna help me help Monty get some stuff and whatnot?” She asks, looking directly at me, holding up a bowl of pruned herbs.

  The cloak crashes down around me, like water suddenly spilling and breaking into a forgotten puddle. She sees me. Even if I’m lost, she’ll see me. I should hate the loss of security, but with her there’s no need for secrecy. If I got lost, she’ll find me. Like Lin finds me.

  Stock-still, shocked, my response is slow to come. A few blinks count the seconds, slow the heartbeats, return blood to fingertips clenched tightly around a basket of muffins. There’s plenty to share. No need to hide away alone.

  “Okay,” I manage, placing my bounty on one of our rooftop’s garden benches. “What can I do?”

  25. Dizzy

  Even though we’ve been up here on the roof for what feels like hours, the water Connor brought is still cool and refreshing as it glides smoothly down my throat. Like soup, but the opposite. Although soup isn’t such a bad idea, since there’s a tiny little chill in the autumn air that our direct connection to sunlight can’t quite fully swat away. I guess there’s bound to be a gnat or two that can fit through the holes on every bug splatter spatula thing. What’s even the point of those holes? Is it to give them a fighting chance, or is it just wind resistance science stuff? I’m not a swatt-ologist, so it’s possible that’s a trade secret.

  Connor sighs lightly, breath barely tickling against the skin on my collarbone. Even though he’s like a thousand feet tall, he’s curled himself down to rest on my shoulder, both arms linked around one of mine. The soft knit of his pale blue sweater vest a crumb-coated casualty from my enthusiastic muffin consumption. He knows I can’t control myself around a mini-muffin, this carnage should have been better prepared for.

  “Something feels wrong,” he murmurs. I reach across with my other arm and gently weave my fingers through his messy blonde hair.

  “Whaddaya mean wrong? Seems okay to me,” I say, admiring the flourishing rooftop garden we’ve spent a large part of the afternoon tinkering with. Getting to know. Encouraging. The plants up here are friendly and well-loved; they like being a part of this garden.

  “There’s a thickness. I could feel it. Sludge and darkness, keep pressing in on my heart. Making it hard to stick around all the time.” He nuzzles his head against my shoulder, squeezing my arm in his prison ever so slightly tighter.

  “Sounds a lot like you’re scared,” I say, tapping a spare finger against my lip. “Are you scared? I’ve been scared. Or worried? Irritated? … Bored?” I shake my head, “Well, I don’t know what I’ve been. But ‘not right’ is about the best I can say, though I know that’s about the worst most might say on any given day, regardless. They just don’t understand my incredible coolness and that’s totally their fault. Must be really embarrassing for them to be so behind the curve on trends.”

  The edges of Connor’s mouth just barely flirt with smiling while the bridge of his nose crinkles up in dismay. “Yes and no. I feel uneasy, but there’s something that feels uneasy, too. Something tangible in the air. A smell you can almost taste.” He shakes his head slightly, “I don’t know how to describe it. But the last couple of days, especially, haven’t felt right. Like they’ve tasted different somehow.” Connor’s shoulders manage to tuck themselves even higher up against his head in a small shrug, “Figured I’d say something, in case I’m not just crazy. Turns out I wasn’t crazy last time, at least.” Yeah, most people would think seeing eyes in the shadows was nutter butter nonsense, but it turns out Connor’s just good at seein’ shit the rest of us either can’t or don’t.

  “You say anything to the others?” I ask.

  Connor shakes his head against my shoulder, sunlight glinting off his gold-rimmed glasses. “Not yet. Didn’t know how bad it had gotten until I came running up here to get away from nothing.”

  “Might not have been nothing, you know. I’ve run from plenty of nothing and it’s never gotten me yet, so chances are all that nothing was something after all. Hard to prove a negative, y’know?” Nudging a shrug just slightly, I use the chance to place a kiss on the top of his head. “What can I do to help, hmm?”

  He shrugs, which, fair enough, not like I’ve got much practice figuring out what others can do for me since there haven’t really been ‘others’ available until recently. Also means I may not have the most experience figuring out what to do for those ‘others’ in return, because I should. I love them, after all, wouldn’t hurt to figure out ways to make ‘em know it. For now, all I can think to do is tuck Connor’s head under my chin and hold him tight.

  Hinges whine as the door creaks open, my eyes drifting to the side catch Lin stepping through.

  “Ah, there you divine, double beauties are. Save some gorgeous for the rest of us, why don’t you?” He saunters our way, brazenly diving his hands between us to shove Connor and myself apart, wedging himself into the new space. Lin reaches across me to pluck a muffin from the basket and pop it into his mouth before leaning back and slinging an arm across both mine and Connor’s shoulders. “Nice little hideaway you’ve got. You two wouldn’t happen to be enjoying yourselves up here, now would you?” He waggles one eyebrow suggestively, “Because I may have to install cameras if you were.”

  I shove his chest, catching a glimpse of Connor’s cheeks as they flame up. “Perv!” I shout.

  Lin grins salaciously, “You know it, Love.” The hand he has flung over my shoulder plucks at the front of my shirt, widening the gap so he can flagrantly peer down it at my breasts. I’d do the same to him except it’s real hard to get a chest gap from a button up shirt with a tie keeping it all secured. Plus, his boobs aren’t nearly as pretty as mine. Guess I’ll just win this by looking down my own shirt and enjoying the view as well. Ha! That’ll show ‘em!

  I’m not sure what it’ll show ‘em aside from my lovely lady lumps, but… y’know… those’ll certainly get shown. When I look up from my own ta-tas, mine and Lin’s aren’t the only peepers peepin’ in on them peepables. Connor shrugs as his entire face goes full tomato, eyes darting very blatantly away.

  “Well, lovely as it is to snack on the buffet of treats on offer up here,” Lin just as blatantly rakes his gaze up and down both Connor and myself before snagging another muffin from the basket, “I’ve come to remind you that Monty does actually need those clippings some time today.” Popping up, Lin swivels to stand facing us, both feet together, hands tucked behind his back. “Do feel free to let me know if you intend to dawdle. I'll happily offer my services as needed.” Grinning, he looks expectantly between the two of us still on the bench before shrugging. “Ah well, figured I’d give it a try.” Then, Lin bends at the waist and places a hand on either side of each of us, sliding Connor and I back together easily. He nibbles at my nose before diving in for a kiss, clutching the back of my head and going in deep, drawing out a passion to span across the universe. His lips are warm and eager to remind themselves they belong connected to mine. Connor subconsciously clears his throat as quietly as possible, but not quietly enough that it goes missed.

  Lin pulls his mouth away and glances at the man beside me, “Oh, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you, stud muffin.” Commandingly, Lin grabs the back of Connor’s head and reels him in for
a kiss, not quite as fierce as mine but unmistakably more than friendly. The blond-haired tomato man goes double-tomato gravy with a heaping helping of hot sauce on the side. I watch, fascinated, as they both close their eyes and give in. It’s just a moment, a quick moment, but even the ultra-blind could see what’s happening here.

  They break apart and Lin stands up straight, twirling on his heels, twiddling his fingers over his shoulder as his long legs swift a smooth retreat. The door creaks closed behind him.

  My cheeks burn as I put on my best Lin-grin and watch the hot sauce tomato man next to me have his face go full nuclear, mouth just slightly hanging open.

  “OooooOOOOOooooOOOOoooh,” I tease, jostling his shoulder with my own, “Lin and Connor sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G….” Because I’m an adult human female and this is an adult human reaction to seeing two of my… boyfriends?… Making out. Connor’s eyes dart to the ground and his head melts down into his shoulders like a candle dripping from the wick. “YoooUuuuuUUU liiiiiiike him,” I sing-song, only feeling slightly guilty at how my shy man wilts just a teensy bit further. He doesn’t say anything, but does get the cutest tiny furrow between his brows, just barely visible behind the golden frames of his glasses and a dangling curtain of blonde hair. “Should I call him back up here and give you two some alone time?”

  Frantically, Connor waves his hands. “No! No! I don’t know what to… and anyway, I wouldn’t even… and he’s probably just joking around, right?! It’s Lin! No, that’s okay, plus, I wouldn’t want to… Besides…”