by Chris Cannon
“Don’t even joke about that,” Meena said.
“No.” I sat back and looked at her. “I’m serious. What’s to stop someone from wishing to be the most powerful demon in Crossroads?”
“A demon would never grant such a wish,” Sage said. “Unless it served him in some way.”
“Neither of us is making any deals,” Meena said. “The plan is to get through high school and then escape to a non-demon-infested college or trade school.”
“They should put that in the college brochures,” I said. “It could be a selling point.”
Eating dinner with Meena and her dad was an interesting experience. He kept giving me looks like he thought my goal was to trap Meena into staying in Crossroads.
“Dad, stop giving Jake the evil eye. He’s a good guy.”
Her dad snorted but didn’t comment.
This was fun. I ate the lasagna, which wasn’t bad, but her dad must have pulled it out of the oven too soon because it was still cold in the middle.
When he finished his food, he stood and put his empty plate in the dishwasher, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and headed back to the room with the television.
I leaned toward Meena. “Is your dad always this friendly, or does he hate me because we’re dating?”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Meena said. “He doesn’t like the idea of me dating. I may not have mentioned it with all the crazy demon and vampire activity and because it’s not something I tend to share, but my mom and dad met in pharmacy school. She dropped out of school and never finished her degree because she became pregnant. They were already engaged so they moved the wedding up a few months. No big deal, according to them.”
“The attitude he’s given me since I met him makes a lot more sense now.”
“What do you mean?”
“He told me not to be the reason you got stuck in Crossroads.”
Meena’s face turned bright red. “So his first words to you were, don’t knock up my daughter?”
“Pretty much.” I nodded.
“There’s a Hallmark moment for you.”
I laughed.
…
Meena
I drove Jake back to his truck after dinner and kissed him goodbye. Even though he hadn’t noticed, I’d seen Sage slip into the back seat in cat form. Once I was back in my Volkswagen, I said, “Why don’t you shift and join me up here.”
“Good idea.” He leaped from the back seat into the front seat with ease, and then shifted. “I felt the need to tag along and keep watch on you.”
“After today, I’m okay with that.”
“Do you mind if we stop at the store?” Sage asked. “I’d like to pick up a few things.”
“Which store?” Not like there were a lot of options.
“The pet store, of course.”
“Oh, so you’re going to pick out your own cat food?”
“Yes. I prefer ocean fish and rice.”
That struck me as funny. I drove down Main Street and parked in front of Pet Palace. This should be interesting.
We entered the store, and Jasmine, the owner’s Bengal, came out to greet us. “Hello, beautiful.” Sage rubbed her ears, making her purr.
I grabbed a cart while Sage communed with Jasmine. He met me in the food aisle and picked out several bags of dry food. “You don’t want any canned food?” That’s what I fed Pumpkin and Marshmallow for breakfast. Dinner was dry food.
“It’s a little-known fact that if you add water to dry food and wait, it softens up. I enjoy that every once in a while.”
“Okay.” I glanced around the store. “What else do you need?”
“A bed.” He walked over to the section with all the pillows and some that looked like couches and beds for dolls. I’d checked those out before because they were super cute, but they were also four times as expensive as the normal cat beds. Sage picked up one of the small couches and sniffed it. I pretended not to find anything strange about that.
“I want this one.” He put it in the cart.
This was awkward. “I’m sorry, I can’t afford that one.”
Sage gave me an incredulous look. “You’re not buying it. I am.”
“Oh…” Now I felt dumb. “That’s nice.”
“It’s been forever since I was called up as a familiar. I spent several years modeling in Milan. I invested well. I’m not rich, but I can afford what I want.”
“You were a model?”
He nodded and gave a sly smile. “Should we tell Jake?”
“No.” I laughed at the imagined expression on Jake’s face. “We’ll keep that to ourselves.”
We laughed and talked as we walked up and down the aisles. Sage had an affinity for any toy with a feather on it which brought up an interesting topic. “You don’t kill birds, do you?”
“Are you asking if I’ll bring you any disturbing presents like your cats have done in the past?”
“Yes.”
“No. If I catch a bird I tend to eat it. I occasionally throw it back up, but if the mood strikes I’ll make sure to do that outside.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
We were having such a good time that it took a moment for me to realize that people were giving us odd looks.
“What’s that about?” I asked, nodding toward two women with their heads stuck together like they were gossiping.
“Allow me to use my superior feline hearing.” He listened for a minute and then smiled. “They are wondering at your sudden luck in the dating world. First Jake and now me.”
“Crap.” I hadn’t thought about appearing in public with Sage. How would I explain him?
At the cash register, Mrs. Lincoln checked us out. “Meena, who is your new friend?”
“I’m Sage, Meena’s second cousin. I’ve come to stay with her for a while.”
“Oh, you’re Meena’s cousin?”
I hated when people parroted back what someone said to them.
“Yes. Not actual blood relation but I’m the cousin of a second cousin through marriage.”
“Oh…” She nodded like that made total sense. “And you have a cat.”
“I do. A handsome black-and-white striped American shorthair.”
“Sounds lovely. I hope he enjoys the couch. My cousin hand crafts them here in town.”
“I’ll drop back in and let you know how he likes it.” He handed her his credit card which had the word platinum embossed across the top of it. My dad didn’t have one like that. Then again, my dad had never been a model.
When we came in with the bag from the pet store, my dad was sitting at the kitchen table looking at Carol’s spell books, which I should not have left out for him to see, but it had been a hellatiously strange day. He glanced up and I didn’t need the four brown glass bottles on the table to tell me he was well past sober.
“There’s my girl,” he said. “And her cat-man.” He laughed at his own joke.
“We went to the pet store,” I said. “Sage needed a few things.”
My dad snorted like he was trying not to laugh. “Kind of handy having a cat who can tell you what kind of food he wants. I bet it cuts down on the surprise piles of vomit you step in when you wake up to pee at two in the morning.”
I laughed.
Sage looked appalled.
I tried to explain. “When we first brought Pumpkin home, everything we fed him made him sick. He seemed to purposely throw up in the most traveled spots after we went to bed. There was a two-week timeframe where one of us stepped in something every day.”
“That’s disgusting,” Sage said.
“It was pretty gross.” My dad nodded.
Seeing my dad joke around, even in a drunken manner, made me happy.
“So, are there any other strange facts I should know about
while I’m in a calm, happy frame of mind?”
“We told people Sage was a cousin’s cousin by marriage and he’s staying with us for a while.”
“Good to keep our stories straight.” He pointed at the books. “Is there something in here that could wake her up?”
I didn’t have to ask who he meant. “Carol and Zelda both warned against trying to reach her. Since she’s been in a coma for years,” I swallowed over the lump in my throat, “her essence, who she was, her memories could have drifted away.”
“But she’d be alive,” my dad said. “We could make new memories.”
I nodded, afraid to try and speak because I knew I was about to cry.
“Then we should try.” He stood and came to give me a hug. “Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
He left us in the kitchen and walked back toward his room.
Sage placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. Now where do you want to put your bed?”
“Marshmallow enjoys sleeping in the front room, so I thought I’d join her. It’s nice to have feline friends again.”
“Sounds good.” Secretly I was relieved. I didn’t want to worry about changing clothes in front of someone in my own room.
…
Jake
I woke up early the next morning and drove to the hardware store to pick up the tools for my first job. I needed to do this right. I wanted to make a good impression. I’d changed out lights before with my stepfather who was a house inspector. Last night I’d watched a few YouTube videos to refresh my memory.
I’d barely climbed out of my truck when Dale came out to meet me. He carried a tool chest. Hopefully, that meant something good.
“Morning, Jake. I have everything you’ll need right here. We already delivered the lights to their place a few days ago.” He handed me a clipboard. “Don’t touch anything until they sign this contract. A lot of the old folks around here like to try and pay us in chickens or tomatoes, and I have enough of those at my own place.”
I scanned the contract, which had an agreed-upon amount. “Do I collect payment from them?”
“No. Once you’re done you can bring the contract back here and we’ll bill them.”
Seemed like a lot of extra steps to me but he must have this system in place for a reason. “Any other advice?”
“Being a handyman is kind of like visiting someone’s grandma. Don’t cuss. Smile and talk about the weather. Listen to them tell their stories, if you have the time. If they try to give you something as a tip, you can take it and you don’t have to tell Uncle Sam. Make sure they know that I’ll send a bill along for the full amount.”
“Got it.” The contract had the Connors’ address listed at the top. I put the address into my cell and checked the route. Right past Aunt Zelda’s for a good long while and then one right turn. I could do that.
“Are you wearing a necklace?” Mr. Dale asked.
“It’s a charm my aunt gave me.” I pulled it out from under my shirt.
“Leave that at home next time. You don’t want to be working with electricity or a power tool with that on. It could get caught and you could get hurt.”
I hadn’t thought about that. “Okay. I’ll leave it in the truck.”
He nodded like his work was done and went back into the store. I took off the charm and put it in the glovebox. The drive out to the Connors’ farm was quiet and kind of nice until I hit some ruts in the road that would have bottomed out a Mustang. No wonder farmers drove trucks.
When the Connor house came into view, I wondered if Mr. Dale was playing a practical joke on me. White paint peeled off the two-story farmhouse in foot-long strips. The structure leaned to the left, and an oak tree grew through a second-story terrace. The tree might be the only thing holding the house up. This place didn’t need new lights, it needed to be condemned. Good thing this job had me working on the outside of the house because I did not want to step foot inside. I’d probably fall through the floor.
I parked in the gravel drive and grabbed the clipboard Mr. Dale had given me. First step, have them sign the work order. The front steps were bowed, but they seemed solid enough under my feet. The middle one bounced a bit, but it didn’t feel like I was going to fall through. The front porch had a noticeable dip in the middle.
Before I could knock on the old wooden door, it swung open. I plastered a smile on my face and then did a double take. “Sybil, what are you doing here?”
She grinned. “Small town, I heard you were working for Mr. Dale so I decided to visit my sisters.”
A silver-haired woman wearing big pink glasses with rhinestones came up behind Sybil. “Ignore her. She likes to flaunt her youth in our faces. I’m Mrs. Connor. Come in. Come in.”
The inside of the house was nothing like the outside. The woodwork shone like it had recently been polished. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. How could they let the outside of their house fall into such disrepair?
“Something you wanted to ask?” Mrs. Connor said like she was in on a joke I didn’t understand.
“No.” I held out the clipboard. “If you sign the work order I can get started.”
“Of course.” She scanned the contract and then signed. “The new lights are on the back porch. This way.”
Sybil fell into step with me. “Mrs. Connor is your sister?”
“Yes. If I hadn’t been turned I’d be old and wrinkled like her.”
“I heard that, you little brat,” Mrs. Connor called out.
“Just testing to see if your hearing still works,” Sybil replied.
I had all sorts of questions for Sybil, but now wasn’t the time.
The screened-in back porch was as neat and clean as the inside of the house. I grabbed the box with the two new black wrought iron lights that resembled lanterns and then headed back out to the front door. I started to take the light off when my brain stopped me. “Have you turned power off to this part of the house?”
“Oh my,” Mrs. Connor said. “I forgot.”
That could have been a dangerous mistake. “If you show me where the breakers are, I can take care of it.”
She pointed to a door. “The fuse box is on the landing of the basement stairs.”
I had a feeling I was about to check YouTube for a video. Fuse box and breakers were not the same thing. I opened the basement door and saw the metal box on the wall at the landing where the stairs turned. The hinges complained when I opened the door. Half a dozen circular fuses stared back at me. Great. At least there was a list telling me which fuse went to the front porch. How did I remove these things?
Before I could google ancient fuse boxes, Sybil spoke from behind me. “They unscrew like lightbulbs.”
“Thanks.” I gently turned the green one that supposedly went to the front porch. It came out fairly easily. I set the fuse on top of the box so I wouldn’t lose it. I turned to walk back up the stairs, but Sybil blocked my way.
“Excuse me.” I didn’t want to be rude.
“I met Meena.” She grinned like this was some sort of game.
“Yeah, she told me.” There was no way to walk around her on these stairs without bodily contact and that was not a good idea. “I don’t want to get a poor review my first day on the job. Could you move, please?” I made shooing motions with my hands, hoping she’d take the hint.
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and stepped to the side so I could walk past.
Back on the front porch, it wasn’t hard to remove the old fixture. I was able to attach the new light with a minimum of cursing under my breath.
“I heard that,” Sybil sing-songed from the porch swing where she sat, watching me.
“As long as no one else did, that’s okay.” I put the last screw into place and stepped back to admire my handiw
ork. The light shimmered, and then it rusted. “What the hell?” I said at normal cursing volume.
Sybil laughed. “The outside of the house is glamoured to look old.”
“What?”
She stood and came toward me. “I’m going to touch your skin so you can see the real house.”
Skin contact with Sybil. Not a good idea. But I wanted to see what she was talking about. She traced her finger down the side of my neck along my carotid artery. I tried not to think of that as symbolic. As she touched me the house shimmered. Suddenly the white farmhouse was in pristine condition. The porch boards didn’t sag. The light I’d put up was back to its normal self.
Sybil stepped back and said, “Do you know why I do this for my sisters?”
“No.”
“It keeps them safe. A beautiful farmhouse in the middle of nowhere can attract the wrong kind of attention. No one wants to rob a rundown house because the owners must be poor.”
“Is robbery a problem around here?” The demons and the vampires seemed like more of an issue.
“You’d be surprised. Word gets round that two old ladies have a house full of expensive antiques and heirloom jewelry and some idiot tries to take advantage of the situation.”
“That’s sad,” I said.
She shrugged. “I try to protect them the best that I can. If they’d taken my offer and let me turn them years ago, they wouldn’t be in this situation now.”
“If I’d let you turn me, I wouldn’t have grown old with my Gregory.” Mrs. Connor joined us on the porch.
“I could have turned you both,” Sybil said. “You could have been together forever.”
“Forever is a long time,” Mrs. Connor said. “I don’t think I’d want to live that long. Things would become boring.”
I didn’t want to be part of this passive-aggressive conversation, so I went to work on the second light. This one took half the time since I knew how it went together.
“Sybil, why don’t you go put the fuse back so we can see if this young man knows what he’s doing.”
Once Sybil was in the house, Mrs. Connor approached and spoke in a quiet voice. “She collects handsome young men and then discards them. Don’t let her do that to you. Grow up, grow old, and live your life as God intended.”