Chapter 7
Philip
Canton Valley Farm
Canton would come home late because some goofy dog named Gooseberry ate chocolate on the day all hell broke loose.
As soon as Ty sent out the first alert, I herded all the kids into the Burrow.
They knew the drill and not even the littlest ones hesitated to head toward the nearest trap door.
We strived to keep violence out of the territory but most of us had long ago learned you can’t control every asshole with a power complex.
So, we taught the kids what to do when shit hit the fan.
After the party was successfully moved into the Burrow, I headed into Bernard and Nashen’s new house where I knew a sheet from Pras’s book was hidden. If Pami had escaped through that page, I was going to shove Pras into a dirty diaper and toss him onto the trash truck.
“Would serve him right,” my bear chimed into my thoughts.
I found the page easily enough. It was tucked into an old photo album on the bookshelf.
The magic was still intact. My first thought had been that she was out causing mayhem on behalf of Sharon Claudis but if it wasn’t her, it might’ve been Sharon herself.
She’d lived here a long time after all. I put the page back into the photo album and headed out to look around the farm.
I checked all the secret places to ensure nothing was amiss and no one got caught out on their own and decided to hide there.
It was all clear, but I didn’t go down into the Burrow with the others.
Someone had to stay top side and keep an eye on things.
It wasn’t like the horses could go down a ladder.
“It’s not Pami,” Pras said, appearing next to me as I walked back to the main part of the farm.
I shot him a bird and had an inklin’ to give him a real piece of my mind.
Sure, I volunteered to house Clarence and Medwin until their book was finished but Pras could’ve ended this all by just moving on.
Some things were more important than pride and the dead should rest.
“What do you think is gonna come of this, you bougie, so-called ‘revolutionary’?” I spat the question out.
“He’s makin’ a council,” Pras said. “He’s acknowledging my descendants. You’d do the same for yours.”
“I hope mine would clock me upside the head if I pulled the shit you’re pulling.
Risking everyone and everything because your feelings are hurt.
You could’ve told the truth and moved on with your afterlife.
When I brought you here you said you’d keep it in line but apparently, you’re a liar like your brother. ”
“You wound me!” Pras said, floating in front of me. “That was not Pami. That was not Ferrick. Maybe it was the shebear? Maybe it was someone else.”
“One restless asshat full of angst breeds another,” Philip rolled his eyes. “I have a good mind to call someone to banish you myself.”
“You could, but you won’t because Ferrick is so enraged.
He won’t be as easy to banish as I would.
I’m not enraged and you need me here to help you all keep him locked in that book.
Plus, I believe once they watch the security footage you’ll find it wasn’t a spirit at all but a badly timed spell cast by someone with the aim of a drunk raccoon trying to toss a rotten orange at a possum. ”
“For your sake, you better hope you’re right because Canton’s coming back.
I’ve gotten softer as I’ve gotten older, but he takes even less bullshit now,” I said and poked him in his ethereal chest. “Now, leave me alone and go back to your book. Ruined a perfectly good moving party and got all these people upset. You and everyone else ought to be ashamed of yourself. If you had a jawbone, I’d break it. ”
Pras disappeared and I heard the familiar rumble of a work truck.
I took my time walking over to where Canton always parked his truck.
He was back earlier than the others predicted.
Hauling four kids under ten around the Moonscale Territory probably wasn’t as fun as it sounded.
At least not for him and Bellamy. The whimpering bark of a puppy echoed around.
“Forgot he was bringin’ back a baby,” my bear rambled off into my thoughts.
“What in the hell is going on here?” Canton asked, hoisting Marabell onto his hip. The four-year-old rabbit shifter had her ears out and her nose twitched like her sire’s always did when he wasn’t sure about something. “I’m getting calls from teenagers that someone smashed up The Cuddle Club?”
“A ghost or a spell. No one was hurt but also no consensus on what the frick happened,” I said, reaching out for Marabell so that Canton could pull her twin sister Tarabell out of her booster seat.
The little girl wrapped her arms around my neck.
“I’ve missed you too. Did you have fun driving all the dragons over there crazy? ”
“We got a puppy. His name is Gooseberry. We were doing a hike, and he ran out of the bushes. Thought he might eat us but now he’s ours. Tarabell fed him chocolate and almost murdered him. She’s going to go to jail,” Marabell said.
“Am not!” Tarabell called from inside the backseat.
The puppy whined on from some unseen location. He smelled like someone dosed him with sugar and three espresso shots after pulling an all nighter. No wonder Canton had called a trainer.
“No one’s going to jail for giving him a snack, but now you have to be as tall as me to give Goose a snack,” Bellamy said.
He wore a chest carrier with their five-month-old baby boy who was fast asleep despite the chaos of little voices and the whining puppy.
“Brought him back here for Evie to take a look at. Seems fine but it was a whole bar of that bitter cooking chocolate Tarabell’s taken to eating. ”
“He liked it,” Tarabell shrugged as I moved her sister to one side so that Canton could hand her off too.
Canton bent back into the truck to retrieve his sleeping two-year-old son who was out cold in wolf pup form. He batted at the air with one paw as his daddy lifted him up into his arms.
“We need to take them down or do you think we’re in the clear?” Canton asked, his nose twitching. He was fighting off the urge to thump his foot because he didn’t want to wake his baby.
“We’re in the clear,” I told him. “It was all downtown. I don’t think the dead want to come here and mess with us. We’ll bury them again.”
My bear chuckled. Over the years, Canton and I had cleaned up our language more than ever. Sure, sometimes those words little mouths should never say slipped out but sometimes we caught ourselves spelling out those words even when the kids weren’t around.
“So, the party’s in the Burrow?” Canton asked and I nodded. “I never liked her,” he continued.
“Who, Daddy?” Tarabell asked.
“Eh, some big ole meanie who won’t go to bed in the Other World when she’s supposed to,” Canton said.
“Uh-oh. She won’t get her extra cookie tomorrow,” Marabell chimed in.
“She might never get one again. She’s been that bad,” Canton said, his face animated as we carried the rugrats toward his house.
Beside him walked Bellamy with a giant, black and grey cotton ball on a leash.
Gooseberry growled every few steps. Those were the growls of a puppy who did not do well with tension.
I made a note to ask what sort of dog he was because I’d never seen one quite like him.
Whatever his mix, he seemed to be a nervous wreck.