Chapter 17 #3
Lisa-Jane, terrified, scuttled off without replying, and Luna pointed her broomstick, now flashing green—it was yellow before—at Wren, then Poppy. “And what reason do you two have for not wearing costumes?” she demanded.
“Ah, that would be because I am a grown-up and don’t see the need to play dress-up anymore,” Wren told her godmother. Ooh, fighting talk, Wren.
Luna didn’t say anything but turned her eyes on Poppy, who shuffled from foot to foot, then sighed. “I wasn’t feeling it, Lune,” she said, hoping that honesty would save her.
“You two are such a disappointment to me,” Luna muttered, and slung an arm around Hadley’s thin shoulders. “I’m going to pour my energy into mentoring Hadley; she will take over from me someday.”
Hadley clapped her hands, delighted. “Yay, I’ll get to boss Poppy and Wren around, and Dad and Thom.”
“You do that already,” Wren pointed out.
“I know, but it’d be nice to make it official.”
Luna patted her shoulder. “I think you should fine them ten dollars each for not making an effort, Hadley dear.”
Someone called out to Luna, and she sailed off. Hadley-dear grinned and held out her hand for more money. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Poppy muttered, handing over another ten.
On the other side of the bonfire, Luna climbed up onto the tiniest of stages, just large enough for her to stand, and took the microphone offered to her. Then she plastered her hand onto her hat, bending its rim to keep the wind from blowing it away and causing a death-by-witch-hat homicide.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, tourists and residents, believers and non-believers,”—she looked to where they were standing and scowled at Wren—“welcome to my favorite event, the Bonfire of the Bewitched.”
Poppy dug her elbow into Wren’s ribs. “She’s gunning for you,” she murmured.
“She’s never going to make me a believer,” Wren stated, pushing her elbow away. “You all can keep your woo-woo shit.”
Poppy, having successfully poked her friend, smiled and glanced across the crowd to look for Thom.
She found him within a few seconds—like she was the pigeon and he her homing signal—and her breath hitched when she realized he was looking right back at her.
Instead of looking away, their eyes stayed locked, and Poppy fought the urge to run to him and fling herself into his arms. She missed him, more than she’d believed possible.
She wanted to wake up next to him, to fall asleep with him, to drink coffee on the porch with him, to talk to him about big things and small.
He’d always been her person, the one soul in the world she felt completely accepted by and at ease with. He, simply, got her.
He looked tired and thinner than usual. In his hand, he held a paper bat, and she wondered if her name was written on the paper. If it was, she assumed he’d toss it into the bonfire as a regret. Because she doubted she could be a wish.
“Poppy McMaster, are you listening to me?”
Poppy jumped at her name being boomed across the crowd, and she looked at Luna, who was scowling at her. She nodded frantically and mouthed an apology, her face flaming. It was H-Town’s equivalent of being sent to the principal’s office.
“You’re in trouble,” Wren softly sing-songed.
“Shut up,” Poppy muttered.
“Just happy it’s not me for a change,” Wren whispered.
“Shh, she’s looking at us. I don’t want to be cursed,” Poppy stated.
Wren laughed, and Poppy fought the urge to look at Thom again and forced herself to concentrate on what Luna was saying.
“Before we get to the main event, folks, I need to make a few announcements.” Luna placed her winged, bedazzled reading glasses on her face and looked down at the piece of paper in her hands.
“Yes, Cedric darling, I haven’t forgotten about dear Effie. Do stop nagging, there’s a love,” she cooed. Poppy’s eyes crashed into Hadley’s and they both winced as Luna actually batted her eyelashes. What the hell was happening between those two? The mind boggled.
Luna squinted at her notes. “For some reason, we have many more items in Lost and Found this year. Can you lot not look after your possessions? The lost items include a rubber face mask, a few fake mustaches, a rather valuable ring—you’ll need to describe it or provide us with a photo to prove it’s yours, because not all of you are honest—and, good grief, a paperback copy of the Kama Sutra.
” She looked at the crowd over the rim of her glasses. “And you lot call me weird.”
Kama Sutra paperback or not, she was weird.
“Witches, on this auspicious night, I would like to ask that you don’t cast spells where people are around.
And for the love of the goddess, please do not summon spirits, especially if you do not have a permit.
Only the most experienced can handle spirits on Hallow’s eve. ”
“Or for fuck’s sake,” Wren said. Thankfully her words were drowned by the snorts and groans coming from the skeptics in the crowds and didn’t reach Luna’s bat-like ears.
Luna silenced them with another fierce glare. “Also, I’ve been told Effie is feeling very frisky tonight. For those of you who don’t know, she’s the ghost who haunts the coffee shop, and we’d like to formally announce that she’s been promoted to Co-CEO at Spirited Grounds.”
Poppy looked around, saw the bemused expressions, and grinned when some spontaneous clapping erupted from the costumed True Believers. “Effie wants to celebrate, so if you hear laughter in your ear or someone kissing your cheek, it’s probably her,” Luna continued.
Wren groaned. “For fuck’s sake squared. Seriously, is she getting battier, or am I losing what’s left of my patience?”
“Both?” Poppy suggested.
Luna spread her arms out wide, wished everyone a happy Halloween, and grandly declared the Bonfire of the Bewitched open. Then she entreated the crowds to rid themselves of bad energy, unrealized expectations, and dreams by tossing their bats into the fire.
Poppy looked down at her paper bat, then across to Thom—he was still watching her—and stepped forward to throw it into the fire.
She watched as the wind picked it up, and it started to fly like a bat would.
But, instead of landing in the fire, it landed at her feet.
Bending down, she picked it up and sent it to the fire again, and the same thing happened; it landed at her feet again.
Annoyed, and wondering if Effie, or some other spirit was messing with her, she scrunched it into a ball and threw it into the fire, watching as the paper turned black.
Thom was both a wish and a regret, and right now, both were burning in the Bonfire of the Bewitched.