Sit a Spell

by Stacey Alabaster

  Oh, darn, I hadn’t meant to remind him about the fight. I tried to concentrate on the good times instead, but my mind was all over the place. I closed my eyes.

  It was weird, though. Almost like Bruce had known the exact time to ring. I opened my eyes and glanced over my shoulder, just in case he was there, hiding in the long grass. Like a cat.

  But I couldn’t see anything. Even Indy hadn’t followed me tonight.

  I regained focus and stared at Akiro while he was watching TV. Strange, he had always told me he never watched TV. And I had no reason to think he was lying about it, either, just to seem cool or cultured or whatever. He never knew what I was referring to when I came into the coffee shop in the morning and talked about whatever dating reality show I had watched the night before.

  Had the spell caused him to forget which parts of his personality were really him?

  That was scary.

  Okay, I needed to work fast.

  I fed the last of the memories to him, though I sort of rushed them towards the end. I definitely fumbled through the part where I had to explain how well we knew each other. I focused, instead, on what a hard worker he was and how much he loved being in the coffee shop. Three hundred and sixty-five days of the year, I told him.

  Then I was done. I had run out of things to tell him. Partly because Akiro was such a closed book. I didn’t know much about his family or even his life outside the coffee shop.

  For a moment, I thought I had failed. That I hadn’t said the spell right or that I didn’t know him well enough for this to work.

  There were no sparks or flashes of lights. No smoke poured from the top of his head. In fact, there was no movement or obvious change at all.

  Great. I guess I couldn’t handle this on my own after all.

  I was about to stand up and make my way through the long grass and back to my car, when I saw movement inside the house. Akiro was standing up.

  And he switched the TV screen off.

  Did it work? I could only wait and find out.

  It had been three days since Ribeye Bandits’ tour bus had left the Swift Valley station. And yet I had heard nothing from Vicky. I did not believe that the text on Shu’s phone was actually from Vicky. I was scouring through the TV schedule to see when the festival was being televised and wondering if Ribeye Bandits’ set would be shown. My plan was to try and spot Vicky on stage, even though she was one of the backup guitarists.

  Then I would know if Shu was lying to me.

  It would have been easy for her to get anyone she knew to text her from their phone, saying that they were having a great time in Dubbo, and then for Shu to change the name to “Vicky” on her phone. I didn’t know what her motive would be for doing that, exactly. But something was way off. I knew that much.

  “Darn it,” I said, trying to watch the broadcast on my phone while I waited out in front of the Italian diner. My reception was choppy, and the screen kept on freezing. And the coverage was mainly focusing on the lead singer. A guitarist came on screen, a guy with blonde spiky hair, and I yelped a little, but he was the only one I saw before the video froze.

  Maybe I was being stupid waiting in front of the diner. Was I being stood up? I could smell garlic bread wafting out the windows. A car pulled up, and I put my phone away. Ribeye Bandits’s set had finished anyway.

  This is a mistake, I thought. I felt as frozen as the festival footage had been.

  But maybe the man standing in front of me was the only person who could help me figure any of this out.

  Bruce was wearing a button-up white shirt paired with blue jeans that looked more casual. Perfect lunch date material.

  “Should we go inside?”

  I nodded and ducked my head down as he opened the door for me, wondering if I was underdressed in my large jacket and brown leather pants. Should I have worn a dress? I’d never spent much time in Mayfield, even though it was only fifteen minutes from my town. It was small and had never held much attraction for me. The only selling point it had over Swift Valley was that it had a cinema, but I’d never been a big film watcher.

  “They have good coffee here,” Bruce said with a grin as we studied the menus.

  “I’ll just have a peppermint tea,” I said to the waitress. “Trying to cut back on the coffee,” I told Bruce.

  “Well, you picked a good time to do that.”

  I went back to looking at the menu.

  “Did you get a chance to look into what I told you about Candace?” Bruce asked. The question caught me off guard because it didn’t seem like a first-date question. Maybe this wasn’t a date after all. I wasn’t sure if that made me feel relieved or disappointed.

  “I was actually hoping to ask you a few more questions about that,” I said as my peppermint tea arrived, and I took a sip. No caffeine. No hit. I was regretting my order already.

  Bruce nodded. “Sure. What do you need to know? That’s why we’re here today, aren’t we?”

  “You told me that Candace moved to Swift Valley before she got her new job, right?”

  Bruce nodded.

  “So, what did she move there for? If not a new job?”

  Bruce shrugged. “She never told me, exactly, but if I had to guess, probably a new boyfriend on the scene.”

  I nodded. “But you don’t know for certain?”

  “She felt bad about leaving, I think. She was quiet during her last couple of weeks. Not very forthcoming with the details. But she was spending a lot of time texting on her phone, I remember that.” He glanced up at me with a cheeky look on his face. “And it’s not like anyone would choose to live in your one-horse town over Mayfield, for any reason other than love.”

  “Hey!” I said back with a laugh. I took a sip of my peppermint tea. “We have better coffee in Swift Valley.”

  Ooh, I could see I had hit a nerve. I was only teasing. But also, not really. It was the truth.

  I hadn’t intended for it to all come spilling out before the first course even arrived. But there was all this silent tension. It felt like the words were rising in my chest, and I just ended up blurting it out. So strange, because I had never told anyone before. People had told me. I’d accidentally let people overhear. But I’d never confided in anyone. I was staring down into my cup of tea watching the loose leaves floating on the top when it came out.

  “I am a witch.”

  I stared across the table. I waited.

  Bruce just sat there at first. Blank faced. Had he gone a little pale? And then his jaw clenched, like he was running through different reactions but trying to suppress them until he decided on the right one to show. He was thrown, then worried, then suspicious. He managed to regain composure. But there was a strange look in his eyes, which had narrowed.

  He looked like he thought maybe I was testing him for his reaction

  Was I?

  “Why are you telling this to me, Ruby?” he asked.

  “Because I saw you the other day. With the garbage. I saw that you made it disappear into thin air.” I took a deep breath. “And so, I know that you are one as well, Bruce.”

  7

  I took a step forwards to check. Maybe it had just become invisible. But my legs didn’t hit upon anything. I waved my hands through the empty space, but they didn’t hit on anything, either. There was nothing there. Just a void where the dumpster had been.

  We were standing next to the Turtle and Hare while Bruce showed me the results of his spell. And I could certainly not detect anything like a dumpster nor any garbage at all.

  “So . . . where did it . . . go, exactly?” I asked Bruce, sounding very unsure as I stared at the empty space. “I mean, I know the saying “into thin air.” but thin air isn’t exactly a place, is it? It has to have gone somewhere.”

  Bruce laughed a little and shook his head. “The trick is to focus on where you want it to end up. You take the object in your mind’s eye and then direct it to another location, and just hope that is where it actually does wind up.”
He cringed a little as he recalled the times when his hope gave out. “I’ve had a few mishaps in my time. Once, I was trying to dispose of an angry snake in my backyard, and instead of banishing it to the middle of the desert, I banished it to the middle of my living room.” He shot me a meaningful look. “Stress does not make the process any easier.”

  I was trying to keep up. “Right. So, it’s not out there floating on some other plane, then? The garbage?”

  “No. It’s here. On the earth plane. On the tip, hopefully.”

  Huh.

  I was pretty impressed to hear about Bruce’s skills. And gosh, was it a relief to be able to talk openly about this stuff with another person.

  A man I could actually be honest with.

  “So, it’s essentially a form of teleportation, rather than making something cease to exist.”

  “Exactly.”

  Hmm.

  “Sounds efficient.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, it usually is. Snake incident aside, of course. I don’t usually perform that spell in broad daylight, though. I was being a little sloppy.”

  “And trying to avoid a fine from the council.”

  Bruce nodded, and we both looked at the line coming out of the Turtle and Hare. His coffee shop was still open in spite of everything, managing without him for the day, even though they were still taking in all the stray coffee lovers from Swift Valley.

  “Looks like business continues to go well,” I said to him. “I take it you still have confidence that the Coffee Killer only had one target.”

  Bruce glanced over his shoulder at the line that was snaking out the door of his coffee shop.

  His voice was low this time.

  “To tell you the truth, I am a little worried about that killer being on the loose.”

  I was surprised to hear that. “But you told me you thought it was only Candace who was the target. That the rest of us were worrying about nothing.”

  “Maybe that’s just what I’m hoping is true,” Bruce said heavily as he furrowed his brow. “It feels a lot safer to think this was a one-off incident and to believe that the rest of us are out of danger.”

  I nodded. That made a lot of sense. But I was starting to feel as though he’d led me on a wild goose chase about Candace so that he could have some peace of mind.

  Bruce was still my best shot at getting to the bottom of what was going on with Vicky. I wasn’t ready to walk out on him just yet.

  “So, was this even a date?” Bruce asked me. We were both standing in the alleyway where the dumpster had been. Not the most romantic of settings.

  “I have to admit, I had a few ulterior motives.”

  He looked bemused. “A few? I take it we haven’t gone through them all yet, if that is the case.”

  I shook my head.

  “Bruce, I need your help. I think my friend is missing, but I have no way to prove it.” I told him that Vicky hadn’t contacted me in days and had left a day early, and that she had only sent one text message—allegedly—to her housemate.

  Bruce took this all in. He almost looked amused. “And you are keeping this a secret from the rest of your coven?”

  I laughed a little. “I don’t exactly feel like I am on the inside there. Anyway, part of me thinks I might be overreacting. There’s no proof that she is in danger. And she did send that text message. So, it looks like she is actually on tour in Dubbo. But why wouldn’t she have taken her bags with her? They are still sitting on her bed, packed.”

  Bruce didn’t seem to think that was the biggest deal. “Maybe she is just forgetful. Does she have a track record of doing absent-minded things?”

  “Um . . . You could say that. Yes.”

  I knew there was a such thing as “Occam’s razor.” That the simplest explanation was usually the correct one. And the simplest explanation was that Vicky was so excited to go on tour that she hadn’t thought about anything practical. The bus must have left a day early. And she had forgotten to bring her bags with her amidst all the excitement.

  But what about what my inner instincts were telling me?

  “Do you have any . . . special powers that might allow you to help her out?” Bruce asked slowly.

  I took a step back. “What do you mean?” I asked in an almost accusatory tone. It was like he already knew about my psychic senses, and that felt like an intrusion. It was too much of an intimate thing to know about a person. About a witch.

  “I do,” I finally admitted. “But I don’t like to use my powers on my friends. It is a breach of privacy. They are allowed to have their own thoughts, just as I am allowed to have mine. Without being monitored.”

  “Even when you think they are in danger?”

  Okay, now he was definitely judging me. Could I use my powers on Vicky? I had overstepped so many lines lately. I wondered if one more could possibly hurt.

  “If you want me to wait here for moral support while you do it, then I can.” Bruce’s voice was gentle. “I can even watch and keep guard. Hey, I’m a pretty big guy. No one is going to be able to get past me.”

  “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath before I accepted his offer. “That might be nice, actually. It might help.” Moral support couldn’t possibly hurt, could it?

  Bruce smiled down at me encouragingly. “Hey, we’ve gotta stick together, right?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I took down the guard I kept up so that these thoughts couldn’t usually intrude. I brought into my mind’s eye the face of my best friend.

  I was going to find out where Vicky was.

  She wasn’t in the desert.

  “Do you think whoever did this is the so-called Coffee Killer?” Bruce asked as we raced out of my car towards the front entrance of the theater hall. The same one where Vicky had auditioned for Ribeye Bandits. They kept a heavy padlock on it when there was no show or audition, and I started to pull at it desperately. The door itself was kinda old and rickety, but the lock was solid, and there was no way we were going to be able to pry it off. There was a combination to it as well as three inches of solid steel.

  I was trying to answer Bruce’s question. “Yes, I suppose it is a possibility,” I said as we both tried to pull the lock open at the same time, our fingers jamming against each other’s. “But I haven’t been able to make the link yet.”

  Speaking of links. This lock was not going to break nor budge.

  Bruce asked me how long I had been a detective.

  “Look, I did a course, okay?” I said and tried to pull the lock again. It was useless.

  Bruce glanced around like he was making sure that no one was looking. “I think I am going to have to make this lock disappear.”

  “You can do that? Just the lock?” I asked him.

  “Well, do you want me to get rid of the whole building?”

  “If that would help us find Vicky.” I mean, people might notice if an entire hall went missing, but I didn’t care. “Oh, no, don’t do that, actually. You might take Vicky with it.”

  “Exactly.” Bruce took a deep breath. “I can’t perform this trick endlessly. It takes a bit of energy each time. But I think I am restored from the last time. I can give it a shot.”

  I stood back and got out of his way. Way out of his way. I didn’t want to risk disappearing as well. I waited nervously while Bruce focused on the lock.

  All of a sudden, it was gone. The door was free.

  “Where is it?” I asked, staring at the swinging door.

  He looked upwards. “Hopefully, on top of the tip along with the garbage dump. And hopefully not floating around somewhere up in the clouds.”

  Yikes. Not exactly the kind of thing you wanted falling out of the sky onto somebody’s head. I could see why you had to be careful when messing around with these sorts of spells. I glanced up at the sky. All clear.

  We raced into the hall, and I started calling out Vicky’s name, but there was only silence. And no sign of her jolly, round, freckled face. I was ready to
start running and frantically searching through the place. But Bruce grabbed me by the arm and gave me a calming look. “You can find her if you use your powers.”

  “That’s not going to work. I’m already in the place she told me she was, and . . . okay.” I didn’t believe him, but I closed my eyes and brought Vicky’s face into view. As I focused more, I could “hear” her. She was close by, in a very small space.

  “Downstairs!” I said to Bruce, and we both ran towards the staircase that lead down to the basement level. “She is in a very small room . . . sort of like a closet!” I called out.

  “Like this?” Bruce called to me. I stopped and spun around and saw that he was standing in front of what looked to be a storage closet.

  I gulped. “Yep. That looks like the one.”

  How had Vicky wound up locked in a storage closet?

  Great. Another lock. This one wasn’t as thick, but it was just as strong as the first one. I pulled on it, and it rattled enough to shake the whole door.

  “Ruby!” I heard a voice call out.

  “She’s in there,” I said to Bruce. He reached down to help me with the lock. It wasn’t his physical strength we needed, though. I asked him if he could perform the spell again.

  But Bruce was out of strength, and he couldn’t so much as make the lock budge. “I’m sorry, Ruby.”

  “I’ll look for an axe,” I said, about to take off, but Bruce grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back a little bit.

  “You can do it, Ruby.”

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “You can perform the spell.”

  I shook my head and explained why that was impossible. That I hadn’t learned it yet, that it wasn’t part of my set curriculum, that I didn’t want to be responsible for making Vicky vanish into space or the moon or whatever would end up happening if I did this without a license.

  “It will be easier if you focus on making the whole door disappear,” he said, trying to give me advice. Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Vicky was crying out for help, making it kind of hard to concentrate. “It’s a larger target to focus on, so you’ve got a better chance of at least making some of it vanish.”