Chapter Two
JAMIE
I drive around the town and let the cobwebs fall off all the old memories running through my head.
I haven’t been to Diablo Falls in years.
When I arrived last night with my loaded pickup, everything was dark.
I pulled into the driveway at the cottage and though I could hear the echo of the familiar falls through the valley, I couldn’t see them.
Driving around in the daytime, I am pleased to discover everything looks the same, if maybe a little smaller.
The town sits like a picture postcard with Blackwater and Clearspring Mountains, the twin peaks that make up the Devil’s Crown, standing tall in the distance.
The rushing waterfall spills down between them into the lake below.
I’d forgotten how peaceful these mountains can be. I used to spend summers here with my family visiting my grandma Gertie at her place just outside of town. Now that she’s retired—gone to live with my brother and his family—she’s offered me her house for as long as I want it, furniture and all.
Couldn’t come at a better time. When my company got bought out and my job was deemed redundant, they gave me a severance package and let me go.
At the time it felt pretty hopeless trying to find a new job at the same time as thirty of my colleagues, but now, with the offer of Grandma Gertie’s house and a nice cushion of cash in the bank, it feels like an opportunity; a push to do something new.
Granted, I have no idea what that might be, but something tells me coming here was the right move.
I woke early and moved the few boxes I brought with me out of the pickup and into the living room to unpack later.
When I left the city, I dropped most of my stuff in storage and packed the essentials to bring with me.
I made sure I pulled all my camping gear aside so I could get into the mountains first thing.
I’m ready to leave civilization for a few days before I start over in Diablo Falls.
Greene’s grocery store took care of most of my camping provisions, and I picked up a couple of bags of ice at the gas station.
As I’m driving out of town, a red Volkswagen Beetle screams backward out of the diagonal parking space and across the two-lane road, cutting me off as it spins in the right direction and forces me to slam on my brakes.
The driver sticks her hand out the window to wave at me.
I shake my head. “Well, hello to you too.”
The car had been parked in front of Bishop Magick & Apothecary Shop.
It looks like the rest of the storefronts on the street, but with more life.
There are hanging plants and greenery growing around the entryway, and a sign in the window advertising custom tea for sale.
I’ve never been one for coffee, and I grabbed a box of tea bags at the grocery store, but I like the sound of something new.
It’s kind of my theme right now, right? Change everything and see what sticks.
“All right.” I turn into the parking space and head into the shop. A little bronze bell tinkles over the door as I step inside.
“I’ll be right with you!” a female voice calls from the back of the shop.
The shop interior is all warm wood walls and floors, with bunches of dried flowers and herbs hanging from the exposed beams. The air is crisp and clean, the scent of flowers and spices teases my nose.
Two rows of display shelves create an aisle down the center of the shop.
Jars marked medicinal with labels noting the ailment they were made for fill one of the shelves.
I spot a spray bottle of natural insect repellant and pull it from the shelf.
I will probably need that while camping in the woods, and it’s natural so win-win.
Grandma Gertie was always against pesticides, or anything that harmed the environment.
It makes me feel good to do things she’d approve of.
Another shelf contains baskets of soaps and tins labeled, “for the bath.” There are oils, and candles, and powders and more, all arranged in tidy displays. Tall wooden bookshelves fill the back corner of the store, with a pair of upholstered chairs and a sofa creating a little seating area.
At a table behind the glass check-out counter, a dark haired woman is working. Behind her, an antique wooden cabinet with hundreds of tiny drawers fills the wall. The woman whispers something to someone and then puts down a tool she was using. She wipes her hands on her apron and glances up at me.
“Hi there. Welcome to my shop.” She smiles broadly and steps out from behind the counter.
When our eyes meet I feel like someone punched me in the gut. Her long dark hair frames her olive skinned face. Her eyes are a deep and hazy green. She seems a little sad but I can’t stop looking at her eyes.
“Hi… I… I saw… in the window…” I am aware as I fall over my words that she’s watching me, a half-smile on her face, patiently waiting for me to tell her why I am here. I close my eyes and try to clear my head. “You make tea?”
“Oh! Yes. I have lots of tea. Do you know what kind you like?” She turns toward the back of the store and leads me to a table near the bookshelves.
I follow her and we stand in front of a rather elaborate tea display. “Not really. I usually just buy regular plain tea from the grocery store.”
“All right. That’s usually a blend of black teas. We can start there.” She eyes a few tins and then looks at me as if sizing up my tea preferences at a glance. “Do you have a few minutes? I am happy to make you some tea to sample.”
I have all the time in the world. “Sure.”
She picks up an electric kettle and heads back behind the counter.
I hear water running and I take the time to check out the books.
It’s a lot of New Age stuff and a section on the history of witchcraft.
Another shelf is devoted to making tea, and there’s two shelves of cookbooks.
One of the shelves has a framed photo of Grandma Gertie with the shop owner.
The two ladies are smiling like they had just finished laughing.
The picture brings a smile to my own face. “You know Gertie Hutchins?” I ask as the woman returns with the kettle and plugs it in.
She smiles again. “Oh, yes. She and I are old friends. I’m sad that she moved away. How do you know her?”
“She’s my grandmother.”
“Oh! Really? You know, I thought you looked familiar. The picture Gertie has of you and your brother is clearly out of date.” She offers her hand. “I’m Hazel.”
“Jamie,” I say. And as soon as I take her hand I see stars behind my eyes and a flash of a scene fills my head.… holy shit!
Hazel goes stiff as if she’s feeling an electric shock. Then her eyes roll back and she passes out cold.