Chapter 27 #2
Talula closed her eyes. She thought of Samhain’s past and smiled.
“Because the Samhain festival is wonderful. I can’t wait for you to see it; it’s like Halloween Land.
We always do cool educational stuff about paganism and other cultures’ fall celebrations.
Plus, there’s scavenger hunts, carnival games, and pumpkin-spiced funnel cakes.
And no matter what happens during the year or how much time has passed, you’ll see everyone at Samhain.
Like, my high school English teacher and I almost never talk during the year, but we always catch up at the caramel apple stall. ”
“So Samhain is about the people.”
Talula kept her eyes closed. “Not just Pine Hollow people. People who feel like family to me.” (Talula thought of all the magical beings that visited during Samhain to use the Volta.) “They stop by, and it’s the only time I get to see them all year.
Really, Samhain is the only time that my two worlds coexist, and it’s…
” Talula swallowed. “It’s the only time of year I truly belong to both. Like I’m wanted by both.”
Talula felt a cold, wet something poking into her temple. She opened her eyes. Simon had hopped onto the couch to press his nose to her face. He gave a gentle, heartfelt whuf.
“Thanks, Simon.” Talula tipped herself back up to look at Dahlia.
Dahlia’s gaze was so full of some raw, nameless emotion, it made Talula’s breath catch in her throat. Dahlia turned away, and whatever it was, was gone. “My mom was a nurse; did I tell you?”
Talula shook her head, sitting up to look at Dahlia.
“She dealt with anger all the time. She said anger almost always comes from pain, and usually, that pain is wrapped up in love.” Dahlia continued, “Like, when a patient’s family would get in her face about pillows or IVs or whatever.
Mom knew they were angry because their loved one was in bad shape and it hurt to see them that way.
There wasn’t anything they could do about it but be angry. ”
“Your mom must be really patient.”
“Not at all!” Dahlia grinned, dimples at maximum. “She doesn’t let anyone give her shit.”
“Am I the angry relative in this scenario?” Talula asked.
Dahlia shook her head. “You’re angry because you love Samhain and you love this town.
You’re hurt because the town you care about is turning on you.
So, when you talked to the protesters and to Mrs. Bochart, you were letting your anger speak.
But if you show them where the anger is coming from, show them the love, maybe they’ll want to listen. ”
“What happened to ‘suffer no fools’?”
“Give yourself your best chance to be understood first.” Dahlia shrugged. “Then, fuck those fools.”
Talula laughed. “Good advice.”
A few hours and a refilled teapot later, they had a semblance of a plan and GIFs on every important slide. Plus, Talula had homework.
As Dahlia packed up to go, Talula stared at a yellow legal pad like it was challenging her to a swordfight. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Just speak from the heart.” Dahlia tapped the legal pad with a glittery black nail.
Talula groaned. “I just hope they can hear what I have to say and look past their judgments about who’s saying it.”
An odd look crossed Dahlia’s face. “Huh.”
“What?”
“I might have an idea.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“Yes. Eventually. Maybe. If I’m right.” Dahlia flung an arm around Talula in a quick hug, then darted out the door. The bell chimed curiously behind her.
Simon hopped up on the couch next to Talula. They both stared at the legal pad.
“Do you think I can do it?” Talula asked.
“I think you essentially tossed yourself into a magical tornado last night to save your mother and survived. If you can do that, you can probably make a speech without being burned at the stake.”
Talula rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
“But when are you going to start that next recipe? The cake?” Simon asked, batting a paw at the air impatiently. “That jinn’s cookbook may have the answers we need to our many, many problems.”
“Tonight, when we’re home.” Talula ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t make the cake at the café. We don’t have an oven here.”
“Remind me—do you need one of those for baking?”
“Definitely.” Talula had to smile. “Ovens turn wet dough into delicious fluffy baked goods, like those apple turnovers you like.”
“Then you work on that speech. Leave the oven to your mentor.” Simon hopped off the couch and waddled through the Employees Only door with an air of purpose.
Talula drummed her pen on the legal pad, waiting for the words to come.
That night, acrobats made their debut on the Magic Box stage.
Their show was spectacular and went off without a hitch.
The only problem was audience capacity. Attendees started arriving by the dozen an hour before sunset to get good spots.
By dusk, there was hardly a speck of green for latecomers to claim.
Not wasting a moment, Talula and Dahlia (flanked by Simon) handed out flyers and talked about Samhain and the town hall meeting.
Emilio and Anna got up on the Magic Box stage after the performance and urged everyone to attend the meeting and show support.
Dahlia managed to do a trending social media dance with Kanishka to help spread the word.
But there was no telling how many supporters would show up. They just had to wait and see.
Afterward, Talula hit the grocery store with Simon, where they bought industrial quantities of cake ingredients. At home, Talula alternated between working on the speech and researching cake recipes. She fell asleep on top of her covers after midnight, pen still in hand.
The morning of the town hall was, irritatingly, a beautiful one. Talula brewed a strong cup of tea and cooked sun-dried tomato, feta, and spinach omelets for herself and Simon. She set down the plates on the kitchen table. “Any word from Mom?”
“None yet, but have hope.” Simon shook his head.
Talula swallowed down a surge of worry with a big gulp of tea.
Again, the day was spent on recipe research and town hall prep.
Talula struggled with her speech. Her mind oscillated between a thousand worst-case scenarios, ranging from her mother being captured again, to Talula being banned from town, to an army of basilisks crashing the town hall meeting.
She stumbled over her words, skipped important points, missed vital beats.
After the fifteenth run-through, Simon looked like he was trying to politely smile himself to death. “Take a deep breath and try again.”
Talula took as many deep breaths as she could without hyperventilating. She was so caught up in speech prep throughout the day that she didn’t register the clock. Until her phone’s ringtone shattered her concentration. With a jump, Talula picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, where are you?” Dahlia’s tinny voice was hushed.
“What do you mean?” Talula flicked distractedly through her yellow legal pad.
“Babe,” Dahlia said gently. “Look at the time.”
Talula looked at her watch. She registered where the big hand was. She registered where the little hand was. She wanted to simultaneously scream and vomit.
Dahlia whispered, “The town hall starts in ten minutes.”
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Talula hung up and scrambled off the couch.
“What? What is it?” Simon jumped up from a nap, battle-ready.
“It’s time! We have to go!” Talula grabbed her satchel and ran.
“Baphomet’s bulging bollocks!” Simon swore as he chased Talula out the front door and into the night.
After the impromptu jog, Talula carefully crept into the town hall, breathless and sweaty.
Pine Hollow town hall meetings took place at the library’s auditorium.
That night, it was as full as Talula had ever seen it.
The five town council members and a moderator sat at a folding table on the auditorium stage.
A standing mic was positioned between the stage and the audience section.
Stern anti-Samhain protesters took to their seats, wielding signs and scowls.
Talula found a few friendly faces—families who’d come to every Magic Box performance, market vendors who smiled when they spotted her, even Kanishka and her aunties.
Talula’s gaze snagged on a perfectly coiffed blond ponytail.
As if she could sense her, Kristen turned from her anti-Samhain clique to give Talula a saccharine smile, her blue eyes as innocent as arsenic.
Talula turned away to find a man with a dark baseball cap and sunglasses staring right at her.
As soon as their gazes met, he looked away.
Talula frowned. Pine Hollow was small enough that she recognized faces, but his was strikingly unfamiliar.
Before she could make a remark to Simon about him, Talula was pulled into a pomegranate-and-shea-butter-scented hug, her face tickled by loose spirals of curls.
“You made it!” Dahlia said.
Talula sighed into the embrace, her arms wrapped around the sweet dip of Dahlia’s waist.
Dahlia let her go, slowly. “I talked to the moderator; we can plug the laptop into the projector. She says you can have five minutes.”
“That’s plenty of time—” Talula reached for her satchel. Her extremely light satchel. She thrust a hand into the bag, rummaging around desperately. Talula upended it. When only her wallet and fancy lip balm fell out, horror seized her.
“I left the presentation, my speech…” Talula clasped a hand over her mouth, unsure if she was actually going to scream/vomit this time. “I left it all at home.”
Dahlia’s eyes bugged out. Simon let out a whine.
“Attention!” The moderator announced from the stage. “Please take your seats. This special town hall meeting will now commence.”