Chapter 8 Sad Panda
Scarlett raced out of the store, barely managing to choke out a quick goodbye to the Earls and dash around the corner before the tears came. In the alley, she dropped her bag of supplies, crouched on the ground, and covered her face with her hands. Anger, shame, and no small amount of confusion washed over her.
I’m going to kill Luna when I get home, she thought. All that jibber-jabber about how Nate and I should be together. I never should have let her get in my head like that.
She took several deep breaths to compose herself.
I have no interest in Nate anyhow, she lied. It’s just as they say—I’ve put away childish things, and Nate was the most childish of them all. Plus there’s plenty of men to date in San Francisco.
That last bit was half true. There were, indeed, men for Scarlett to date in San Francisco. But all they could talk about was craft beer and technology stocks.
She sighed. I probably just need coffee.
Bending over to pick up her bag, Scarlett found herself face-to-face with a squirrel. The sight chilled her to the bone.
The squirrel was small and gray, with an unexceptionally fluffy tail. It held an acorn in its little paws. It was a skittering, chittering cliché of a squirrel.
But true Oak Haven squirrels were the size of small cats, with onyx-colored fur and majestic, almost peacock-like tails. Oak Haven squirrels traveled in packs. They were bad boys, a little risqué. Oak Haven squirrels were partial to bebop and clove cigarettes.
The most interesting aspect of Oak Haven squirrels was that no witch had created them. No spell had willed them into existence. As far as anyone could tell, the squirrels developed this way simply due to exposure to the ambient magic in the air of Oak Haven.
But now here was this horrid gray thing, this basic bitch of a squirrel, sitting in the alley and staring at Scarlett like she was the odd one.
What’s happening to my town? she wondered. This is not what I remember at all.
Scarlett’s musings were interrupted by the sharp voice of Delilah, who was standing at the edge of the alley, one hand on her hip. “You finally woke up, I see.”
“Ha ha ha,” Scarlett said. “Mama sent me to Williams and I had to face Nate. Thanks a lot for leaving me with that little assignment.”
Her older sister shrugged. “Get up earlier—you’ll get a better selection of chores. Come with me. I need to go talk to Polly.”
Polly owned Spellbound Books, which was just across the street from where they were standing. But to Scarlett, it felt a thousand miles away. “Is there somewhere I can get a coffee? Breakfast had been put away by the time I got up, and I feel a headache coming on.”
“Weren’t you just at Williams Hardware?”
“Yeah?”
“Nate has the best coffee in Oak Haven.”
“It’s a hardware store.”
“Be that as it may,” Delilah replied, “Nate may have missed his calling. His coffee kicks the ass of that swill at Hexpresso Yourself.”
“Well, no.” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think to get coffee at the hardware store .”
“Let’s visit Polly, maybe she has some caffeine for you.”
Scarlett sighed. “God, I hope so.”
***
Much like the inn, Spellbound Books had an inviting scent all its own—old paper and herbal teas, with a subtle hint of clove. But today, all of that was overwhelmed by the tang of sawdust and plaster.
Because Spellbound Books was in chaos.
The tiny shop was awash with ladders and table saws and buckets of nails. Tarps covered the shelves and the floors. A team of carpenters hurried in and out to the sounds of drilling and hammering. And in the center of the chaos stood Polly, the Melrose sisters’ high-school frenemy.
Polly had been a year ahead of Delilah at school, and thus had always been well ahead of Scarlett—in academics, at witchcraft, at everything. She was the first to have a boyfriend, the school’s top athlete, widely known around town as Handsome Bill. Polly was also the first to marry said boyfriend, the first to have a child. As far as Scarlett could tell, Polly had everything in hand, from her appearance to her magic, everything in place just as it should be. The other kids called her Triple P—Polly Practically Perfect. Everything went swimmingly for ole Triple P. Her life was practically perfect, all the time, always.
Until everything went to shit.
Until Handsome Bill turned cold for reasons no one could understand. Until Polly tearfully demanded a divorce. Until Handsome Bill poisoned the trees above Oak Haven and fled, never to return.
Ten years on, Scarlett was shocked to find Polly, the girl she’d envied more than any other, looking utterly discombobulated. Her face was pinched with worry, and gray hairs sprouted among the chestnut brown ringlets tumbling down her face.
“Hey, Polly . . .” Scarlett narrowly avoided colliding with a brawny gent carrying a pile of lumber. “What’s going on here?”
Polly turned and gasped at the sight of the Melrose sisters. “Scarlett! Delilah! Oh, how good to see you. Is Luna here, too?”
“Not with us, but yes, she’s in town.”
“What a relief. We’re in a state here as you can see. I hope you Melroses are ready to save us.”
Scarlett and Delilah exchanged glances. “Uh, well we’ll do our best.”
“Have you got some coffee for Scarlett?” Del asked. “She’s in a state, too.”
Polly brought Scarlett and Delilah to her little back office; it was barely enough space for a desk and a couple of chairs, but at least it was quiet. Relatively quiet, anyway—the pounding of hammers and whining of drills reduced to a dull background noise.
Sitting there with her Doc Marten boots on the desk was Polly’s fourteen-year-old daughter Violet. She wore oversized headphones, and her hoodie was pulled over her head as she gazed intently at her phone.
This time it was Scarlett’s turn to gasp. “Is that . . .” She turned to Polly. “That can’t be your little baby girl.”
“That’s what happens when you stay away for ten years, Scarlett. They grow.”
“I see she has a phone?”
“And why not? The teens in town all have them.” Polly sounded more than a little defensive. “I know it’s addictive but with everything she’s gone through with her dad, you could hardly expect me to say no.”
“No, Polly,” Scarlett said appeasingly. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant: oh hey, we’re doing cell phones in Oak Haven? Seems like the opposite of what the town is about, that’s all. I mean, do you remember the arguments about allowing cable TV? My God, the way the elder witches flipped out? You’d have thought they were going to put a McDonald’s in the middle of the green.”
“Ughhh, Scarlett . . .” Delilah groaned. “You should have been here for the town meeting where we debated cell phones. The moment I saw a tower going up outside town, I wrote up a proposal that we create a spell to block the signal. But that would have involved the elders understanding what cell phones were in the first place.”
“Oh no, I can just imagine.” Scarlett chuckled. “I bet you made this whole pitch and they didn’t know what the hell you were talking about.”
“You heard Mama last night. Witches don’t internet. That generation doesn’t get it.”
From what Scarlett recalled of last night’s conversation, Delilah wasn’t exactly Steve Jobs, either. “Right,” she said. “ They , the old folks, do not get it. Unlike you, who thinks 5G is short for five grimoires.”
“Well,” Delilah huffed, “what does it mean, then?!”
To head off an argument, Polly offered, “How about I get you that coffee, Scar. Oh, Violet!” She banged on the desk to get her daughter’s attention. “We have visitors. You know Delilah of course. This is her sister Scarlett. You’ve not seen her in a very long time.”
Violet barely glanced up. “Hey.”
“Hiiiiii,” Scarlett said, too enthusiastically. “You were about yea high the last time we met—maybe five? Isn’t that just—”
“Mom,” the teen interrupted. “I ordered lo mein. I’m gonna wait for the delivery outside.” Violet put her headphones back on and stalked out of the room.
Polly sighed. “That’s my little charmer.”
***
Huddled in the back office over coffee, Polly regaled Scarlett and Delilah with stories of her difficult past few months. The overnight translation of all the books into Mandarin was just the beginning of the trouble. No sooner had Polly gotten that sorted out than she discovered every single book had had its last chapter transposed with its first.
“Imagine opening up Murder on the Orient Express and the first words you see involve Poirot propounding his solutions! Or starting the Da Vinci Code by reading the epilogue. It was a catastrophe, an absolute catastrophe.”
“Agreed,” Scarlett said. “If you’ve started selling Dan Brown, things are way worse than I’d imagined.”
“Don’t be a snob,” Delilah snapped. “He’s very popular.”
Scarlett made a face but dropped it. “Polly, any thoughts about who might be doing this to you?”
“Yeah, I can’t help but notice that magic issues are at their worst in your store. Almost as if somebody was after you specifically?”
“After me ?!” Polly Practically Perfect appeared altogether affronted. “Of course not! Spellbound is a jewel in Oak Haven’s downtown. Who would try to hurt me, ever?”
“Your ex, obviously.”
Polly’s face turned hard. “Last I heard, Bill was on a shrimp trawler in the Gulf of Mexico. Anyway, it can’t possibly be him.”
“Why not?” Delilah said. “Why isn’t he the prime suspect here? After all, he’s the one who—”
“Because he’s forgotten all about us, Delilah! That’s how the spell works, isn’t it? Non-witches forget all about Oak Haven. He doesn’t know he married me, he doesn’t know he has a daughter—imagine what that’s like for Violet. You think I don’t feel guilty enough, that the marriage didn’t work out? Now my kid has to grow up with a father who wouldn’t recognize her if she punched him in the face.”
“She looks like she has a decent right hook,” Scarlett said.
“Honestly? I wouldn’t blame her. But it’s not Bill. And I’m offended, frankly, that you seem to be accusing me of something. You can’t possibly understand what it’s been like. In the past weeks I’ve had books go entirely blank, I’ve had encyclopedias disorganize themselves out of alphabetical order. And there has been violence. One customer bought an illustrated copy of Dracula and the book tried to bite her while she was sleeping. Enough is enough. I’m done.”
“Ahhhh,” Scarlett said. “ That’s what all that drilling and sawing is about . . .”
“Exactly. I’m installing an entirely new magic prevention system in the store. Nate Williams has been carving the sigils that will power the spell. You remember Nate, don’t you, Scarlett?”
Delilah let out a sarcastic little grunt.
“Of course,” Scarlett said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “Good old Nate seems to be everywhere these days.”
“Yes well.” Polly’s eyelashes fluttered coquettishly. “He’s been wildly helpful in my time of need.”
It was achingly clear to Scarlett what Polly meant by that particular remark.
She continued, “Once the prevention system is installed, there will be no more magic on the premises, period.”
“Oh that seems extreme, Polly. And such a loss. I vividly remember coming to Story Hour back when we were kids. Your mom would read Make Way for Ducklings and actual ducklings would march around in front of us.”
“Remember when she read Pippi Longstocking ?” asked Delilah.
“Oh, that got wild.” Scarlett laughed. “With the horse. Oh God, Polly, remember the horse? We can’t let you give that up.”
“I hate it, too,” Polly said sadly. “But I don’t have an option—I’ve been physically attacked by my own books. The David Beckham autobiography leapt off the shelf and kicked me in the head. And look at this.” She rolled up the sleeve of her blouse. “Look at all the papercuts. Every time I sell something now, this happens.”
There was a knock at the office door. “Excuse me, ma’am,” said a male voice. “We need your input on the molding.”
“Yes yes, I’m on my way . . .” Polly stood. “Scarlett. Delilah. I understand your concerns; I do. But I am just as desperate as you are to see things fixed. I don’t want to forbid magic from this store—I just don’t see any other option.” She left the sisters alone in the office.
“I believe her,” Scarlett said. “You?”
Delilah sighed. “I do. It’s like she said, Bill has forgotten us by now. And anyway, he was too much of a nitwit for this. His big move was poisoning the oaks by hand. He couldn’t pull off vampire books .”
“So who did it then? Who is trying to sabotage us this time?”
“Not a clue.” Delilah flung her arm over Scarlett’s shoulder. “Let’s go fetch Luna and head back to the Stargazer. I’m sure Mama’s eager for whatever you got her at the store.”
As they made their way out of the store, they passed young Violet, standing in the doorway. She gripped a paper bag stamped with the words HAPPY PANDA and stared out at the street as forlornly as only a fifteen-year-old girl can.
“Hey,” Scarlett said to her, “you okay?”
“What do you care?” Violet snapped. She stomped away, across the street and toward the town green.
“Okaayy, ‘little charmer,’ indeed . . .” Scarlett glanced across the street at the hardware store; the Earls waved at her cheerfully, and she waved back.
A carpenter was nearby, rooting around in his tool bag for a replacement battery for his drill, and he laughed. “Don’t mind her,” he told Scarlett. “She’s on her own little trip.”
“Really,” said Delilah. “What trip is that?”
“Well!” He seemed delighted to be asked about something that didn’t involve molding. “That kid orders from Happy Panda every day. She stands out here, waiting for the delivery guy—of course, I say guy loosely. He’s some pimply teenager from the next town over. And the girl is out here; she’s putting on lip gloss or whatever they do these days. Fixing herself up, you know? Kid hands over the food, takes the money, gets back on the bike and leaves. She stands there just watching him go. Every day, same thing.”
“Oh no.” Scarlett suddenly understood. “He never remembers her. She waits here, every day, hoping today will somehow be different . . . And every day, he meets her for the first time.”
Delilah shrugged, her curiosity already long gone. “It’s an occupational hazard of living in Oak Haven. She should know that by now.”
“I guess. Sucks, though.” Scarlett glanced across the street at the hardware store. “It’s hard out here for a witch.”