Mystic Pieces

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Mystic Pieces Page 2

by Ada Bell


  I really wanted to drop the thing and keep running, but my inner moral compass insisted I go back and apologize. The ring needed to go back, and I couldn’t just stick it in the mail. Also my inner paranoia, because the last thing I needed was for the post office to lose the envelope, causing Olive to send the police knocking on my door.

  Boron! That was element five. See? I was fine.

  With a deep, fortifying breath, I turned and marched back to Missing Pieces. The hot giant I’d barreled through on my way out of the building was nowhere in sight. Thankfully, neither was Olive. Holding my head high, I pushed the door open and walked back into the store as if I belonged there.

  The bells over the door jingled. I was starting to enjoy that chime. It was peaceful. Calming. Something I desperately needed. For a brief moment, I considered staying there, opening and shutting the door another thirty times or so until I felt really Zen.

  No such luck. Olive spotted me immediately.

  “Aly! I’m so glad you came back. You worried me.”

  My face turned so red, I actually saw the tip of my nose lighting up. It took all the dignity I could muster to hold one arm out stiffly. “I seem to have forgotten to take this off when I left. My apologies.”

  “Oh, please.” She waved one hand. “It’s fine. I’d like to talk to you more.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not a good idea. I need to see a doctor.”

  “Not feeling well?”

  You could say that. Well, she did say that. I would’ve said that I was suffering a psychotic break, but this stranger wasn’t the person to confide in. Unless she knew where I can find a good therapist in Shady Grove. Possibly the only therapist. Oh, man. I needed to get out of here.

  Element six was carbon.

  As if she could sense that I was about to bolt again, Olive approached slowly and put one hand on my arm. “Please stay. My son is making some tea. We need to have a chat.”

  How would her son feel about me coming in and taking his tea? “It’s okay. I don’t want the job anymore.”

  She tilted her head at me. “Is that true? Or are you scared because something happened when you put on my grandmother’s ring?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. How could she—?

  Oh. Suddenly it all made sense. A trick ring. People put it on; they had visions. I wondered how they did it—a liquid applied to the inside of the metal? Or maybe the whole thing was a show. Maybe the lights did flicker, someone did scream, and something did bonk the back of my head. Perhaps when Olive wrote “open-minded” on the sign, she meant “Must be willing to star in unscripted horror movies.”

  This could even be a Shady Grove rite of passage, where all the old-timers knew about it. Not having a psychotic break, then. No brain damage. I didn’t need an MRI.

  I forced a laugh. “Yup. Cool trick. Is that the only joke item you sell?”

  “Trick item?”

  The hot guy from the street appeared from the back, carrying a wooden tray. The fragile teapot, tiny china cups, and cookies looked out-of-place in his strong hands.

  I started at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Me? Just serving tea. What are you doing here?”

  Belatedly, I realized that I still had no idea who he was or why he was here, serving me tea. “Sorry. I forgot my manners. I’m Aly.”

  “Sam is my son,” Olive said. “Sam, Aly applied for the cashier’s job. We were just about to have a little chat and get to know one another.”

  “Cool. I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got some work to do.” He set the tray on the bistro table where I’d filled out my application, then disappeared into the back before I could pepper him with questions, like why had I never seen him around town and what was his favorite color and how many children would he like to have with me?

  Finally, I realized that I was staring. I forced my attention away from the empty doorway. “Does Sam work here with you?” Please please please say yes.

  Olive laughed. “Oh, no. He’s getting his MBA down in the City. He’s just visiting for a few days. Came up to help me move some things.”

  A shame, really. A job that came with a side of eye candy would be nice. Not that I had time for dating. Between Kevin and Kyle, my life was plenty full. We had playdates and movie nights and blanket forts and all the things a girl could desire. Except, you know, smooching. But I could always watch The Princess Bride.

  “Please, take off your coat and have a seat.”

  I debated leaving my coat on, but winter gear in New York is no joke. After about two minutes in the store, I was already starting to sweat. If I started drinking tea while wearing my L.L. Bean puffy coat, I’d be having heat-generated hallucinations in no time at all. One disturbing, out-of-nowhere vision a day was enough for me.

  We moved to the table, which unfortunately only had two chairs. Sam wouldn’t be joining us. Olive picked up the teapot and filled both cups. I waved away her offers of milk and sugar. “So, Aly, tell me about yourself. Do you consider yourself to be open-minded?”

  Wait. Was she resetting our interview? She acted like I’d just walked in and asked for the job, without the intervening incident. I wasn’t sure I wanted to work here anyway. I was about to say so when a little voice pointed out that if I talked to her, Olive might give me some clues about my out-of-body experience or whatever happened.

  “The easy answer is yes, but no one really considers themselves close-minded.” She smiled, so I continued, “I have an associate’s degree in biology, so I’m all about experimentation and changing my mind to fit the facts. Is that what you mean?”

  “Not exactly, but it is nice to know you’re willing to admit when you’re wrong.” She paused. “Strange things sometimes happen in Shady Grove, particularly in this store. I need someone who can go with the flow, not get too flustered.”

  An image of me streaking out of the store flashed before my eyes, and my cheeks grew warm. But Olive let me back in the store, offered me tea, and was giving me another chance to interview. She must have a reason for doing that. “When you say strange things, do you mean, like—visions?”

  “Maybe. The important thing is that you’re willing to consider possibilities that might be outside your realm of experience.”

  “That’s why I came back,” I said. “And why I’m still hoping you’ll give me a job.”

  I needed to know what happened to me, and while I supposed I could just come out and ask, I preferred to get to know Olive first. See if I could trust her. She was one of the most unusual people I’d ever met. She didn’t seem dangerous, but neither did Ted Bundy.

  She glanced at my application, which I’d almost forgotten about leaving on the table when I bolted. “It says here you used to work in the college bookstore, so you must know your way around retail.”

  “Yes!” I told her about my love of books and helping people and deftly avoided mentioning the fact that, since Shady Grove didn’t have a mall, my options for working retail were basically here or the pet store.

  They’d turned me down.

  “Everything looks great.” She peered at me over the top of her bifocals before glancing back down at my resume. “I do have to contact your references, of course, but if it all checks out, I think it’s safe to say you could start tomorrow after lunch.”

  An enormous wave of relief washed over me. “Wonderful! Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “I just have one more question for you.”

  “Anything. I’m an open book.”

  “When did you first learn that you’re psychic?”

  Chapter 3

  My cup clattered onto the saucer, sending tea sloshing over the side. I stared at Olive without blinking for several long seconds. She waited patiently, hands clasped in her lap as if she’d just asked me to pass her a lump of sugar.

  “When did I who the what now?” I finally squeaked out.

  She c
huckled. “There’s no need to play coy with me. Nothing else could have put that look on your face earlier.”

  That stupid ring. I sputtered for what felt like hours until she put me out of my misery. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry. Maybe you didn’t know. You have a gift.”

  I shook my head. “That’s impossible. There’s no such thing as that kind of gift. Psychics or mystics or seers or whatever aren’t real.”

  “Are you sure about that?” She patted her hair, her cheeks, her chest. “I certainly think I’m real. If I’m imaginary, I’d like you to imagine I play the piano beautifully. I always wanted to learn, but I’m all thumbs.”

  This day just kept getting weirder. Maybe I’d fallen asleep on the walk to the store, and I was lying in a ditch somewhere. That would explain a lot.

  “You’re telling me that you’re a psychic? Like those women on TV who tell you all about your long-lost love?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not a tele-psychic. I have certain extrasensory gifts, and unless I miss my mark, so do you.”

  This was nuts. I was a biology student. Future scientists didn’t have extrasensory gifts. We were the people who proved that those things didn’t exist! Yet, somehow, I heard myself say, “That ring… I thought it was a trick. A hallucinogen on the inside of the band, maybe. People put it on, they see things.”

  “Some people, sure,” Olive said. “Not most. That experience is reserved for people like us. We’re a tiny percentage.”

  “So what you’re saying is, when you put on that ring, you saw a woman’s death? Heard the screams, felt the pain in the back of your head, tasted blood? Because if so, let me tell you, lady, you should not have put it out on the floor for poor, unsuspecting customers to find.”

  Her eyes widened. “Goodness no! Is that what happened?”

  Now I was just too confused to speak, so I nodded.

  “How horrible for you.” Olive tsked softly under her breath as she refilled our teacups. I resisted the urge to ask her to put something stronger in mine. “They say everyone’s gift is unique. When I touch certain items, use my gift, I get a vision of the true owner. A flash, usually. Not much. I’ve had that ring for years. As I said earlier, it belonged to my grandmother. But this morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Something told me that ring needed to be put out immediately. When I put it on, I saw a flash of curly chestnut hair, a smattering of freckles, and I caught a whiff of hazelnuts.”

  Whoa, there. Hold on. “Seriously? Hazelnuts.”

  “Yeah, why. Do you have an allergy?”

  “More like an addiction. I eat Nutella toast for breakfast every morning.”

  “Well, there you go. The moment I saw you, I knew.” She picked the ring up from where it sat beside her plate and held it out to me. “Here, I’d like you to have this. No charge.”

  “Uh-uh. No way. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

  “Out of all the objects in the entire store, why did you go to this one, specifically? Why did you try it on?”

  That was easy. “I tried it on because it’s beautiful.”

  “There are many beautiful rings back there. This one called to you.”

  The things she was saying made no sense. Magic rings that called to people and gave them visions were stuff from fairy tales. I believed in the real world, a world of science and vaccines and…rings that made me hear things? No way. Maybe I had an iron deficiency.

  Or maybe, a little voice in the back of my mind insisted, I should listen to Olive and hear what she had to say. I believed in facts and logic. But at the moment, logic didn’t apply to the facts I knew. The person who could tell me what happened might be sitting right in front of me. If I wasn’t going to run straight to the local hospital and demand an MRI, I should take the time to think about what she was telling me.

  “When did you know I was going to pick that ring?” I asked.

  “Not until you walked through the door. And I didn’t know what would happen. I just had a strong sense that I should shine up the gold opal, put it out in the front of the display case, then hang a Help Wanted sign. And here you are.”

  Here I was. Confused, freaked out, and undoubtedly in the store, just as she knew I would be. Which made no sense. ESP or whatever she wanted to call it wasn’t real. There had to be some rational explanation for all of this. Like, Olive was running an elaborate scam to get me to trust her so she could steal… the eleven dollars in my bank account? It seemed like such a ruse would be better researched. A scam artist should target someone worth stealing from.

  “Hold on,” I said. “So you’re not really hiring?”

  “I am now,” she said. “Only very certain people have the skills I’m looking for in an employee.”

  “And I have those skills?” My first instinct was to be flattered, but if she meant she only hired psychics, then her interest in me was like a random lightning strike.

  “What happened when you put on the ring? You saw someone get hurt?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about it. All I wanted was a long bubble bath and the latest episode of General Hospital on my tablet.

  “If you tell me, I might be able to help.”

  My gut told me to trust Olive. Although I wanted to believe there was a rational explanation for what happened when I put on the ring, everything she’d said made sense.

  “How do I know you won’t think I’m crazy? What happened… it can’t be real.”

  Instead of arguing with me, she leaned back and took a sip of her tea. After deliberately placing the cup back on the saucer, she said, “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, and I’m not taking any prescription medications. I don’t believe in visions.”

  “Not believing in something doesn’t make it untrue. How many people do you know who don’t believe in science?”

  Touché. Funny, of all the things she could have said, that was probably the number one way to make me want to talk to her. She could have laughed things off. She could have talked about powers and mysticism. But instead, she gave me an argument I couldn’t refute.

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to explain it. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I put on the ring. Suddenly, I was transported somewhere else. Not physically. My feet were still on the floor here. But the walls were gone. The lights were gone. Instead of the rose oil and patchouli of the shop, I smelled something different. I don’t know what it was. Or where.”

  “The ring wanted to show you something.”

  “But how? Why me? And why now”

  Olive clucked her tongue sympathetically. “I’m afraid I don’t know, exactly. The gift is different for everyone. But I believe that when you put on my grandmother’s ring, you had a vision of her.”

  The hair on my arms stood up. “This is ridiculous. I touch other people’s things all the time. Nothing ever happened. I’m sitting on your chair now. It’s not me. I’m not magic. There’s no such thing as magic.”

  “On that, I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree. As to why this happened now, it’s hard to say. Some people show powers from a very young age. Personally, my gifts didn’t manifest until my twenty-first birthday.”

  My eyes widened. She couldn’t know. My date of birth wasn’t on the application. We had never met, and I hadn’t given her my ID yet. I knew about four people in this town, and I doubted my brother was walking around telling anyone the day I was born.

  The sincerity in her voice told me Olive believed the things she was saying. Maybe we both needed MRIs. I wondered if the hospital in Willow Falls would give us a two-for-one discount.

  There was one more thing I needed to know, and I didn’t know a good way to ask. “How did your grandmother die?”

  “Car accident. She fell asleep at the wheel on her way home from Bingo and drove into oncoming traffic.”

  The flash of lightning—oncoming headlights? The
pain on the back of my head. The screams. The blood choking me. It all fit. And yet, there was no way I could have known.

  “The other car—there was a woman in the other car?”

  She nodded, her voice suddenly grave. “Did you see the accident?”

  “Not just see. I felt it.”

  “Oh my! That’s terrible.” Her eyes filled with tears, reminding me that we weren’t just talking about some random old lady. It was her grandmother.

  All of a sudden, I felt nauseated. “Is there a restroom I could use?”

  “Yes, of course. Take your time.” She pointed to the doorway where Sam had disappeared earlier. “First door on the left.”

  Olive’s directions led me to a tiny but functional restroom that clearly wasn’t intended for customer use. After locking the door, I sat on the closed toilet lid for several minutes, taking deep breaths and praying that my lunch wouldn’t make a reappearance. Splashing cold water on my face helped a little.

  I could do this. Something happened that was way beyond my comfort zone. To figure out what, I had a hypothesis: I might have some kind of powers that I’d previously not been aware of. Or believed in. The next step was to test that hypothesis. To do that, I needed to leave the bathroom, go home, and think about all of this logically.

  Making a decision helped. After rinsing my mouth out, I went back to thank Olive for the opportunity and say good-bye. Our interview was done. Time to go do some research.

  She’d retaken her place behind the register, so she must’ve realized that our conversation was over. “Are you okay?”

  “Honestly, right now, I don’t know. But I think I will be. Do you still want to hire me?”

  She waved one hand. “Don’t be silly. Of course I do. You’ve discovered something new about yourself, and it’s scary. I get that. But I can help you. The question is, do you still want to work here?”

  Part of me wanted to say no. To leave and pretend none of this ever happened. However, no one else I’d talked to was hiring, and Maloney U. was about an hour’s drive away. Gas cost money. As did a car, which I currently didn’t have. I couldn’t afford to walk away, for more reasons than one.

 

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