Chapter 17 Rules and Regulations
"My doorknob fell off."
Tilly stared at the brass doorknob in the guest's hand. This was the sixth odd occurrence in the last three days. The Fourth of July festival had been three days ago, and since then the town had taken an odd turn.
People had been poisoned or magicked, depending on who was reporting it, by the peach shortcake at the festival.
Multiple stories had come out about the strangers in town, and then a press release was given with a statement from none other than Astra Goodwin, head of some department of investigation with an unnamed federal bureau.
A lie to hide who they truly were; a lie too many people swallowed without question.
People would be interviewed. People of interest would be questioned and given strict warnings. In the interest of what was left ambiguous at best.
But that alone had set off a chain of human nature.
Posters were made by townspeople and business owners stating things like, "No Magic Here," and "Keep your oddities out of our Good Neighborhood,".
The air had turned chilly in the middle of July. People were acting strange, staring a little longer at each other as they passed by on the streets, wrapping cable knit cardigans around their chilled bodies and pulling them tighter when they were near someone they deemed a person of interest.
Secrets started spilling out of houses like the walls were pushing out old dust.
Philip Perry shouted on the front lawn that he was in love with their toddler's babysitter.
Mrs. Grayson, just off Main Street, pulled her neighbor from grabbing her mail to tell her that she had been committing tax fraud for eighteen years.
Sixteen-year-old Serena Willis told her boyfriend in the middle of a cold July necking session that she wasn't attracted to him and thought that he was boring.
And at his horrified look, she placed her hands on his face and added that she found her friend, Amber, beautiful in that kind of way.
Their town had become an unseasonable autumn globe in the middle of summer, with frenzy, confusion, and suspicion. Theirs had always been a town that danced the line of scandal, but right now it was waltzing without grace.
And the women of The Lost Souls Coven had a particular role to play in this new musical, one that they were familiar with. Suspicious looks were not few whenever they went to town, and angry glances landed on them heavily, each day dragging them down.
Posters were plastered on The Black Cat's three-paned window and Ursula's garden truck.
Fewer and fewer customers were coming into the coffee shop, and the local grocery store canceled their Monday order of Ursula's fresh roses and bundles of bushy hydrangeas and ranunculuses that people loved to pick up with their weekly shopping to display on kitchen islands and tables.
Witch and bitch were whispered with ill intent.
And while many turned their backs on the group of women, there were still a faithful few who kept close; some quietly, but still without hesitation.
Even the Grandmother Clock had taken on a sign of what Tilly recognized as The Hierophant, giving them a fresh sense of unease as Kelsea stopped by the inn with a clay mug of tea that morning. She hadn't slept well and felt that Tilly had suffered the same malady.
Tilly went to check on the screen door that had started opening and closing by itself, beginning at sunrise, until she called Judy. Judy had stood there in sunflower overalls, looking at the door with a puzzled expression. "Well, if it's magic, not sure if new hinges will work, but we can try."
The new hinges were on, and the door continued its screened door slap! every few minutes.
"Hi, honey."
Tilly looked up, seeing no one there. She frowned.
"Hi, honey."
Again, the voice, which was oddly pitched, made her look around the porch, walking outside to the back, still finding no owner of the voice.
"Hello?" she called. The only creature she saw was Portia, sitting on the branch of a red maple, the leaves of which were slowly turning. "I don't suppose you saw someone? Or that you can talk?" She laughed.
Portia cocked her head. "Yes."
"Ah!" Tilly screamed.
The sound of footsteps on the wooden steps of the porch drew her eyes to Kelsea, running to see why Tilly had screamed.
"What is it? Are you alright?"
"The..." Tilly blinked and pointed to where Portia calmly watched them. "She talks?"
Kelsea's look of disbelief turned to shock when Portia said, "Hi, honey."
"Oh!" Kelsea exclaimed. "Uhh..."
"Can we understand animals now? Do we have new magic?" Tilly whispered.
"I don't know," Kelsea replied. "Can you talk to us?" she called to the bird.
Both women watched the bird suspiciously. When Portia didn't say anything else, they went inside with their coffee. Kelsea worked on an article, asTilly installed a wooden chandelier in the kitchen.
And now Tilly stood in the lobby of The Crescent Inn, where three guests had checked out early and odd occurrences had been happening nonstop.
The latest sat in the palm of her confused and irate guest's hand, detailing how long it had taken her to break out of her room, and she emphasized how unapologetic she was for breaking the door.
As she was hanging up with Judy for the third time, Tilly's day got darker when her sister's voice interrupted her few moments of silence.
She held her breath for a couple of seconds before she turned around with a pasted-on smile.
"Why are you smiling? Did you not hear me?" Fae held a shiny red apple in one hand and her phone in the other with a look on her face that told Tilly exactly how difficult she was about to be.
"Sorry, I didn't. What's up, Fae?"
"What's up is that the lights won't turn off in my room. Which makes it difficult to take a nap."
"It's ten-thirty in the morning."
Fae simply jerked her head by one tick and raised her eyebrow in a silent challenge. So, Tilly did what she always did when it came to her sister, and she went along with her.
"Alright, I will come up and take a look. Anything else?""Yeah, why is it fifty-five degrees in July?"
She raised a hand as the grandmother clock ticked loudly a few feet away. "You know, oddly enough, I don't have any stock in the weather."
"Being sassy won't help and isn't your strong suit."
"Actually, her sassiness is one of my favorite qualities."
Jen was walking down the hallway in a dark red trench coat and with a pink coffee cup from The Black Cat in hand. The relief Tilly felt at seeing her best friend was immediate and grounding.
"Hey, I'm Jen. And by the pinched look on your face, I'd say you're Fae."
She held out her hand, and Tilly watched in fascination as her sister tentatively took it in a light and quick handshake that was more of a grasp and drop than a shake.
"What look on my face?"
"I would not ask that," Tilly warned.
Fae shot her a frown before turning back to Jen.
"Oh, she's right. You don't want to ask me that."
"Why not?"
Jen smiled her beautiful, blinding white smile as she took one step forward. "Because I'll be honest."
Fae looked shocked for a gorgeous moment, and Tilly savored it before she fixed a blank expression on her face and pointedly turned back to Tilly, shoving a shoulder between her and Jen.
"Fix my light, or I want a new room."
And then she turned on her heel and went up the stairs.
Both Tilly and Jen watched silently, shoulder to shoulder as Jen handed her the pink cup.
"So that's your sister."
"Mhmm," she replied as she sipped the perfect honey lavender latte. She groaned. "Thank you for this."
"Thank you for not turning out like that," Jen pointed to the stairs Fae just vacated. Tilly's laughter bubbled out of her. "No, seriously. We would not have become friends. I'm allergic to asshole."
"You're kind of an asshole sometimes." Tilly bumped her shoulder with a smile.
She bumped back. "I am direct. And my assholery is rarely on behalf of myself."
She nodded thoughtfully. When Jen let her assholery out, it was usually for the good and defense of others. "That's true. You only show your asshole to assholes."
Jen turned fully to face Tilly with suppressed laughter in her eyes and her mouth barely holding in the sound.
"Yeah, that came out wrong."
Jen threw her head back and let out laughter that filled the foyer perfectly.
What a lovely healing thing when a friend's laughter can fill a space that holds anxiety.
"Wanna help me mentally redecorate the kitchen while I make us lobster mac and cheese?"
"I literally can not think of anything I would rather do right now."
The sound of loud bells clanging against one another made both women jump. Jen's arm swung out in front of Tilly in a natural move of protection as she looked around for the danger.
"It's the grandmother clock," Tilly said, gently pushing Jen's arm down.
"The what?"Tilly led her down the hallway to stand in front of the clock that now held a palm with stars bursting from it.
"That is an odd clock."
Tilly nodded silently as Jen inspected it closer, leaning in, looking at the symbols, turning her head this way and that, imagining she looked much the same as though they'd read the same script and were acting it out.
"Huh. A grandmother clock. Which I imagine does not tell time?"
"I think it might be related to tarot. See the hierophant?"
"I do not. I see a lot of symbols," Jen said, peering closer.
Odd. She could clearly see the hierophant.
"Well, it's usually charming sounding. That loud clanging of bells has been new since the festival." She thought of the tower and the hierophant.
Jen sighed. "The festival did earmark a shift for our town. Did you see the article in The Salem Settler about curfew?"
They talked about the rules that the new regime was putting into place as they walked to the kitchen. Tilly made them lunch as Jen arranged white and yellow daisies into various vases for the outdoor tables.
"There is a petition going around to have Cora removed from office."