5. Hocus Pocus
Courtney
Admittedly, I’m not entirely sure what one wears to go apple picking, considering I’ve never been. I had, however, been to farmer’s markets in Los Angeles, and those were usually swarmed by rich housewives who matched their Pilates pants to their Cartier bracelets, and that hardly seemed appropriate here. Not to mention I don’t own a Cartier bracelet.
I check my phone for the time, panic quickening my steps when I see that the block letters read 7:45 in the morning. I need to hurry up and decide on my outfit, or I’m going to be late. I try to remind myself that this isn’t a fashionable shopping outing with Kashvi in WeHo. I’m in quiet, humble Havenwood, and apple picking is like a step above gardening. Right?
I slip on a black body suit, dark-washed distressed jeans, and an oversized umber cardigan before rushing out of the house, not allowing myself a second glance in the mirror or an opportunity to change my decision.
The streets of Havenwood are quieter than normal at this time of day. Apart from the birds singing and the chattering of the squirrels, the only other noise is the heels of my boots clacking against the cobblestone. The town is glorious like this, bathed in the first ardent lights of the morning, alive with small critters and a crisp autumn breeze whipping around the old structures and through the leaves of the maple trees that line the road.
I close my eyes contently as I walk, the sunlight warming my skin just enough to combat the chill of the brisk air. I might not know where those emails came from or who sent them, but at this moment, I’m grateful for them. I’m grateful for the chance to escape city life and the expenses that come with it. I’m grateful to escape Carter. I’m grateful- my eyes snap open. A new sound catches my attention, one that stands out from the chatter of animals. I recognize it as the crunch of a leaf, only feet away from where I stand. I rear my head in the direction of the noise, just quick enough to see someone retreat behind a tree not even six feet away. I freeze in place, trying to process what I just saw.
From the extremely limited look I got, it looked to be a woman in a long gray dress with deep brown hair tied in a knot on top of her head. Her emanation is the most distinct thing about her, it’s that of another time entirely.
“Hello?” I try cautiously, noticing that the woodland creatures have gone unnervingly silent as if hiding from whomever I had just seen.
No response comes, though I didn’t expect one. I glance around my surroundings, searching for any other witnesses who might’ve seen the strange woman, but I am still completely alone. There’s nowhere she could have run without me seeing her, so she must still be hiding behind the tree.
I do not want to investigate. I would rather volunteer to do just about anything else, but something draws me in. I blame it on my desperation for answers, to figure out just one of Havenwood’s mysteries. Wasn’t it curiosity that killed the cat?
I silently gulp as I advance a few cautious steps forward, my heartbeat ringing in my ears. I almost jump out of my skin when an irksome caw rings out from above, causing my stomach to flip and my attention to jump from the tree’s trunk up to its desolate branches. A crow stares down at me menacingly, his glare practically threatening me to try and retaliate against it. I sneer at the bird as choice words run through my head, I’d cuss him out for scaring me after I confront the woman. I summon my curiosity-fueled courage and continue my creep toward the tree and whoever was behind it.
“Hello?” I tried again, louder this time, but still no answer. I plant my hands against the cracked bard of the maple tree and count to three in my head, hyping myself up to confront the woman.
One… Why had she been watching me?
Two.. Every terrifying possibility runs through my head of what could be waiting for me behind this tree.
Three… I pop my head around the tree and find no one, nothing.
There is no woman, no gray dress; in fact, the dead leaves resting at the base of the tree seem completely undisturbed, as if she hadn’t ducked behind the tree to begin with. I stand there, leaning against the dead maple, completely bewildered when a voice from behind me causes me to scream.
“I’m sorry!” The redheaded barista takes a step back, raising her palms defensively.
“Holy shit,” I pant, my lungs angry from releasing the entirety of their contents into that scream. I’m now facing her; my back pressed painfully against the tree’s bark as I attempt to make myself disappear into it.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry,” Elsie repeats, offering me her hand to help me stand. I glance around the tree one more time, then up at the crow before accepting her offer and rising to my feet.
“What were you looking for?” She asks curiously as we realign with the stone road, her bright brown eyes searching my face before I even have the sensibility to mask my fear.
“I thought I saw someone. She ducked behind the tree before I could get a good look, but when I checked, there was nobody there.” I shake my head, realizing how crazy that sounds out loud. I wait for Elsie to mock me, but it doesn’t come; her gaze bounces from the tree to me and back, quickening her step.
“That’s so creepy,” she shivers, pushing her glasses up her nose and wrapping her arms around her middle.
“Let’s hurry up and get out of here. I can’t stand this kind of stuff!”
I was happy to oblige, matching her pace as we put distance between us, the tree, and the nonexistent woman who had hidden behind it.
“I’m supposed to meet up with Micah for apple picking,” I inform her, more so to figure out where she’s going than anything else.
“I figured,” she smiles at me, feeling more comfortable with the tree far behind us.
“We’re all meeting up at his place.”
I’m glad that the barista is also joining. I wasn’t sure who else would be in attendance, but it’s nice to know one familiar freckled face. Micah mentioning my name and where I was from without me telling him had planted a seed of mistrust in my head regarding Havenwood and its residents but Elsie had proven to be a kind and genuine person. Her inviting personality makes me question whether or not I’m being ridiculous in even questioning Micah.
As we near Herbal Health and Healing, the air gradually reignites with the chatter of small animals, and the heaviness from before melts away entirely, giving way to a much more jubilant climate. Though, admittedly, the woman in gray and that awful crow still linger in the back of my mind. Ready to take center stage of my nightmares tonight.
No sooner have Elsie and I stepped onto the dirt patch that surrounds the small shop when the barista cups her hands around her mouth and calls out.
“MICAH NAMAAS. GET YOUR BUTT OUT HERE!”
I laugh quietly to myself. Her attitude reminds me of an older sister, ready to scold her tardy little sibling. Rushed shuffling is heard from within the back portion of the building before a face and bare, muscular upper torso pop out from one of the furthest windows. “Hi, Els. Courtney! I’m glad you came!” Micah beams, his bright white teeth contrasting the soft brown of his skin, his expression just short of ecstatic. I give him a smile and a wave, too caught up in my own inner turmoil to say anything. All morning, I’ve debated whether I should address my suspicions of him. Today is supposed to be a fun, carefree day, and I don’t want to ruin that by asking pointed questions. But on the other hand, I’m worried that if I don’t ask now, there might not be a better opportunity, or Micah might have time to think of a better excuse for his foreknown knowledge. I mentally war with my options, not wanting to strain a new friendship but also not wanting to call the wrong people friends.
“I’ll be out soon,” he promises, once again disappearing into the old house. The sound of an electric razor buzzing through the open window hints as to why he’s running late.
“Hurry up! You can barely even grow facial hair; it shouldn’t take you that long to shave off peach fuzz!” Elsie calls after him, clicking her tongue impatiently as she pushes her hands inside her jacket pockets. I watch the barista with amused contentment, genuinely happy that she’s coming along for the adventure today. With her here, I know I have at least one person in my corner. That’s when the idea hits me. I’m worrying myself in circles, debating who I can trust and who’s keeping secrets from me when I already decided I can trust Elsie.
“Havenwood is a small town, right? Everyone knows everyone… I assume news travels fast?” I prod, jumping right into my investigation, but Elsie doesn’t seem to mind. She kicks a rock as she answers, peeved about Micah keeping us waiting.
“Oh yeah,” she huffs as if she’s experienced the effects of the grapevine firsthand. Her confirmation releases a pinch in my chest. Maybe Micah truly had heard about my arrival, and that’s why he knew so much about me. That’s not so ridiculous, right?
I nod, letting out a relieved breath.
“So you probably smelt me coming from a mile away? Already knew my name and zodiac sign and all that?” I laugh lightly, trying to keep the conversation casual and less like the probing that it actually is. Her tangelo brows knit together as she ponders for a moment, attempting to recall.
“Actually, no.” Her words reinstate the nag of suspicion inside me, its grip much tighter than before.
“You coming here was a surprise to all of us. I only learned about you when you came into Mystic Brew for the first time.”
“Ready!” Micah bellows as he jogs towards us, clearing the long dirt driveway in a few bounds. I smile tightly as he gives Elsie a hug, then myself, now ten times more skeptical of him than before. I run out of time to ponder my suspicions as the rest of our group arrives.
“The best-looking attendee has arrived,” Milo’s theatrical voice echoes from behind us, his words highlighted by the crunch of gravel below his feet as he approaches.
“And look, Milo’s here too.” Finn quips in true brotherly fashion, seeking out a reaction that his adoptive sibling gives willingly. My core instantly tightens at the sight of the mayor.
He’s wearing a black shirt that molds nicely to his firm chest, and his muscular arms are covered with a vintage-looking brown bomber jacket, but his tan pants are the true star of the show. I let my gaze linger on them a bit too long, enjoying the way his thighs fill the fabric. The longer I stare, the more definition I’m able to make out of the bulge near his zipper, and oh my- my lungs suddenly betray me as I suck in an audible jagged breath. All while my mind is begging my abdominal muscle to relax and attempting to coerce my eyeballs to focus anywhere but on that damn bulge. What is it about Finn Abernathy that causes my body to have such a visceral reaction to just the sight of him? Sure, he’s undoubtedly handsome with striking features and, from our one interaction at the coffee shop, seems like a gentleman, but that doesn’t explain why I forget how to breathe in his presence or why I’m mentally undressing him right this very moment.
“Are you okay?” Micah asks, putting a steadying hand on my shoulder. Shit, had they all heard me struggling to catch my breath? Of course, they had; it was embarrassingly loud. I can only hope that I averted my gaze before any of them saw where I had been staring.
Finn watches me cautiously, keeping a respectful distance, but his obvious concern for my well-being only deepens my want for him. I rip my eyes off the mayor and offer Micah a placating nod.
“I’m fine. I just didn’t realize so many of us were going.” I make the excuse up off the top of my head, regretting it the second it leaves my mouth.
Finn’s gaze drops to the ground as his tongue peeks out, rolling over his bottom lip, a subconscious expression of his discomfort. He knows I’m referring to him. Hurt is the only word to describe the emotion on his handsome face, and I hate being the cause of it; I loathe it. I open my mouth to say something, anything that might explain my cold behavior toward him. But what can I possibly say when the truth is that I want- no -need him to stay away from me so I won’t develop feelings for him? Feelings that were already disobediently developing regardless of the distance I kept between us.
Milo speaks before I decide on what to say.
“The more hands involved, the more apples we can pick.”
“And the more apples we pick, the more apple pies and cider Agnes can make.” Micah hums as if he’s already able to taste the treats on his tongue.
Micah rubs his hands together excitedly and Elsie laces her arm through mine.
“Let’s go!” She announces eagerly, and the five of us are off. I follow the group towards the open field that backdrops Herbal Heath Healing.
“The orchards are just outside of Havenwood proper,” Milo leans over to explain to me as we tromp through the tall grass.
After crossing the vast field, we enter the tree line, following a wide and well-worn path in the dirt. It’s clear that this is a commonly traveled path, and Elsie later confirms my suspicion, informing me that it’s a tradition among their friend group, as well as other younger locals, to visit the orchard during harvest season. A part of me feels grateful to be included in their traditions, especially since it seems I’m now inducted as an honorary member of the group, but I need to know what my new friends are keeping from me.
I stay silent for the majority of our walk, choosing instead to listen to the conversations happening around me, afraid to say anything else that might be found offensive. During a lull in the chatter, I manage to get Micah somewhat secluded from the other members, choosing now as my time to get any answers from him that I can.
“Hey Micah, how did you know my name before I told you?” I turn to my full attention to my right to look him in his amber-brown eyes. Micah is barely an inch taller than me, so I’m able to face him straight on, which makes it much easier for me to gauge his initial reaction to my blunt questioning. His eyes round ever so slightly before he quickly regains his composure, chuckling anxiously.
“I told you, lucky guess. Everyone was talking about this Courtney chick who was moving to town.” His gaze flicks to Finn, who is deep in a conversation with Milo and Elsie. I narrow my eyes on him, my suspicion rising. Why was he looking at Finn?
“Really? Because Elsie told me that no one knew I was coming to town.”
“Uh, you look really pretty today,” Micah attempts to reroute me, giving me a once-over with a sultry smirk. If I were a lesser woman, his distraction probably would have worked. I open my mouth to press him further, but Elsie shouts in excitement, cutting off my opportunity.
“There it is!”
We all turn our attention to the quaint orchard in front of us, planted peacefully in a meadow void of maple or pine trees. Elsie takes off in an enthusiastic trot towards the apple trees, taking me with her via our still interlocked arms and unintentionally ruining my plan. I scowl inwardly, still desperate for answers I didn’t get.
“Whoever finds the best apple wins!” The barista giggles delightedly as we run into the first row of the orchard, the sound of her laugh killing any semblance of annoyance inside of me.
I may not have gotten any answers from Micah, but I now have confirmation that something strange is definitely going on, and I intend to find out exactly what it is.