Stray Magic

by Jenny Schwartz

  “It’s getting on for two centuries old,” Patti said with a note of affectionate pride in her voice. “It’s a great old house.”

  “Costs a fortune to heat.” A woman strode out of the barn. She was a gaunt woman, almost as tall as me. She wore a gray cardigan over a green cotton dress, and socks with her sandals. Her gray hair was cut in the same short practical style as Patti’s. Her blue eyes locked on me.

  “Hi, Aunt Stella. I’ve brought you a worker. Amy Carlton was a volunteer at Ramona’s camp. The parents have all retrieved their children, so we’re out of a job. Amy’s looking for room and board for the summer in exchange for helping you around the place.”

  Stella hacked a cough of disagreement. “The girl’ll be back at the camp soon as everyone rediscovers their commonsense. This dragon nonsense is bunkum.”

  “I don’t think it is, Aunty.”

  Stella and I shared a look of impatience for Patti’s gullibility. That seemed to decide Stella. “Room and board in exchange for help with the garden.”

  I didn’t think Stella was being overly trusting. As a camp volunteer, Ramona had already screened me, and Patti was implicitly vouching for my willingness to work.

  The front yard hadn’t shown much of a garden. There were big trees, a flourishing if untidy lawn, and a few rose bushes along the front of the house. The barn and sheds had to be hiding whatever garden Stella referred to.

  I accepted the job, sight unseen.

  “Unload your gear,” Stella directed. “You can have Gramma’s room.”

  Patti smiled at us. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted.”

  I had two duffel bags and my crossbow kit, and carried them all easily enough. The duffel bags were light, holding only my camp uniform of green t-shirts and khaki shorts, hiking gear, a spare sweater, underwear and toiletries.

  Stella eyed the crossbow, but didn’t comment.

  I was busy assessing the garden revealed as we passed the last shed. This was no flower garden. I stared out at the biggest vegetable garden I’d ever seen. In the beds nearest the house seedlings showed sturdy and green. Beyond them, the soil in two more beds had been turned over, but either hadn’t been planted or else the seeds were still to sprout. And beyond those beds, far more were overgrown with new green shoots pushing through last year’s weeds.

  Stella laughed. “Rethinking the job, girl?”

  I readjusted my grip on the crossbow kit. “No. Just rethinking my wardrobe.” The camp uniform wouldn’t hold up to this level of gardening and I only had a single pair of hiking trousers and shirt. Nor did I want to ruin my nicely worn-in hiking boots by gardening in them. I needed to go shopping.

  The screen door on the porch banged shut behind us as we entered the kitchen. It was an old-fashioned space dominated by a massive oak table that served as workspace, storage space and eating area.

  “Back stairs.” Stella pointed. “But I don’t use them. Nasty, steep and narrow.” She led the way along a hallway to the main stairs that faced the front door. This staircase was wide and well-crafted, each step at just the right height for a person to run up and down without tripping.

  “Gramma’s room” turned out to be a large front bedroom with a view through the trees back toward town.

  “You’ll want to clean it a bit.” Stella opened the armoire’s doors and peered inside, before turning away, leaving the armoire open; presumably so that I could stow my few clothes.

  The room wasn’t dirty, just dusty. Once I’d wiped down the furniture I expected that the dark walnut wood of the matching bedroom set would gleam. The floor would need a mop after I’d swept it. As for the bed…fortunately, the dusty cotton bedspread looked machine washable. “I’ll wash the linens, if that’s all right?”

  “There’s clean bedding in the hall cupboard beside the bathroom.”

  I followed Stella out of the room to finish the tour. Her room occupied the other front room of the second floor and we were to share the bathroom at the back.

  “I need to buy a few things,” I said.

  She gave the same hacking, scornful laugh I’d heard outside the barn. “I doubt it’s a good time to go shopping. People will be panic buying.”

  “Not where I’m planning to go.” I agreed with her assessment. Going into any reasonable-sized city or big box store would be inviting trouble. But there was another option in the opposite direction to the county seat. “Appletonia.”

  Her cough was extra loud. “Only rich tourists shop there.”

  I smiled without humor. “I qualify. My mom and dad are rich. I can afford Appletonia.” And since I’d done my research on the area around the camp before I volunteered, I knew that the expensive tourist town had the sort of artisanal stores that would stock what I needed.

  “Huh.” Stella stared at me. “I’ll go with you.”

  “What?”

  “Pardon,” she corrected me. “I’ll go with you to Appletonia. We’ll take the back roads.” She vanished into her room, and re-emerged a minute later with a large, beige handbag. She hadn’t changed out of her sandals and socks.

  I smothered a grin, respecting her independent attitude, if not her style.

  Ten minutes later the house was locked up, I’d been given my own key, and we were in my SUV and on our way to spend my parents’ guilt money.

  Stella directed me to park outside a crystals and herbs store. “I’ll be in there.” She nodded at the window display of dreamcatchers and incense holders. “Come find me when you’re ready.”

  The New Age-y store seemed an unlikely destination for my new boss, but I agreed I’d find her in a couple of hours, and set about ticking off a few items on my mental shopping list.

  I entered the cobbler’s store first. A sturdy pair of boots met my requirements for functionality rather than fashion. I also bought a pair of simple leather sandals and out-of-season but beautifully embroidered sheepskin-lined boots. I threw them in the back of the SUV and entered the leatherwork store next. All I needed in it were tough gloves for gardening. I got three pairs, and tried on a full-length leather coat like cowboys wore in old movies. The leather was supple and oiled on the outside to make it water resistant. It was a bit big for me, but that meant I could wear layers beneath it in winter. I bought it and a matching hat, then couldn’t resist the practicality and workmanship of two large leather satchels.

  So far none of the storekeepers had mentioned dragons or anything else. We’d spoken about the weather—always a safe topic of conversation—and they’d processed my payments without problem. I ducked into a candy store and bought an insane amount of hard boiled candies, justifying the purchase because the jars they came in were gorgeous. The back of my SUV was getting full even before I bought extra arrows at the blacksmith’s and two throwing knives.

  The natural fibers clothing shop was the real reason I’d driven to Appletonia. They had an excellent website and I’d intended to buy a few things here during the summer. I scooped up cotton and silk underwear, plus socks, and piled them on the counter before going in search of durable trousers. Their drawstring waists were practical, and I found similarly styled trousers at the back of the store but made of wool rather than hemp fiber. I didn’t bother trying anything on, but grabbed three pairs of those, too. I could lounge around in them back at college. Cotton trousers with a slimmer cut caught my eye. I added two of them to the pile on the counter. The shop assistant began ringing things up and folding them. Cotton t-shirts, hemp t-shirts, three woolen sweaters, two long-sleeved tops and…I forced myself to stop. The total was already an eye-watering amount.

  The shop assistant beamed at me as if I was her long-lost sister. “We have dresses…”

  So I succumbed to temptation and added a few more tops, a couple of skirts and three dresses. It was completely and utterly over the top, but I refused to feel guilty about my buying spree. I dropped all the clothes on the back seat and straightened.

  Stella was watching me through the crystal store’s wind
ow.

  I held up a hand, fingers spread, and mouthed five minutes.

  She nodded.

  I ran across the street to the candle store. A heady mix of scented oils and beeswax assaulted me. I bought a range of candleholders and so many candles that I’m sure the store owner thought I was a panic buyer. I wasn’t. The candles would make nice gifts when I returned to college.

  I beeped the car unlocked, and Stella opened a rear door. “Thanks.” I placed the candles on the floor and checked that they were secure. Some of the roads back to Apfall Hill had sharp bends.

  “I bought a few things as well,” Stella said.

  I surveyed the crowded interior of my SUV. “We’ll find room.” I carried out a couple of boxes for her. They were taped shut, so I had no idea what was in them, but they were surprisingly light despite their bulk.

  The final box held small potted plants and skinny twigs. “Cuttings,” Stella said. “I’ll hold them.” In fact, we stashed them in her foot well.

  Back at the farmhouse, she stopped me carrying my purchases up to my room. “Leave them in the kitchen for now. Have you ever cleaned a house, Amy?”

  “No.” My response was a bit too loud due to my embarrassment.

  “You need to start at the top,” Stella said. “You’re only doing one room, but it’s the same principle. After lunch, I’ll find you a cobweb broom. Ceiling first, then the light fixture, brush down the walls. You’d wash them down if you were doing a thorough job, but this is just for the summer. Dust down the furniture, and only then, sweep and mop the floor. Leave the bedspread on till you’re finished, and you can run it through the machine, tomorrow.”

  It was only one room, but cleaning it was a surprising work-out. But the sense of satisfaction at the end of it was immense. The bedspread, along with the curtains, had been banished to the laundry for washing in the morning. The bed was made up with clean sheets and blankets. The windows and dressing table mirror sparkled, the furniture was freshly polished and the wooden floor gleamed.

  Stella found a braided rug for beside the bed.

  I was filthy though. I showered before I put away my clothes in the armoire and stored my toiletries in the dressing table. By then, Stella had dinner ready. She ate early, but I was more than ready for it. Last night, parents arriving and departing with their children had kept me from sleep. Add in the afternoon’s exercise and an early night sounded good.

  I cleared away after a tasty chicken stew. There was no dishwasher in the house—or as Stella said, there was me.

  Afterwards, I collapsed onto a sofa in the living room. Stella sat in a recliner, knitting. The television was on, but I was so tired I didn’t focus on it, initially. When I did, it was to see fires burning. California. Summer was barely beginning and the drought-ravaged state was burning.

  A dragon swooped in, lighting a massive line of fire across the dry forest that edged a suburban enclave.

  My heart jumped and my stomach knotted. The pranks had just escalated if the creations were going to be used to burn homes. How were they doing this?

  “The blue dragon saved thousands of lives and hundreds of homes by back-burning…”

  I stared at the television as the reporter explained how the line of flames had halted the out of control wildfire in its blazing path toward the houses. “Stella…”

  The clicking of her knitting needles stopped.

  I turned my head slowly, as if it would fall off if I moved fast. “They’re real, aren’t they? Patti was right. This one controlled a wildfire. The red one over Washington ate a missile. It wasn’t an elaborate prank. Isn’t. There are creatures of magic in our world.”

  “I don’t want to believe it.” Her fingers curled into the soft wool of whatever she was knitting. “But I think we have to accept that everything has changed.”

  We both looked back at the television screen. The news was showing a montage of monsters.

  “Are you staying for the whole summer?” Stella asked me.

  Where else could I go? I had no ideas for a safer place to ride out the changes. I felt lost and alone. “If you’ll have me.”

  She nodded. “You have youth. I have hard-earned experience. Neither of us has anyone else.”

  I blinked. “You have Patti, her family…”

  “They have each other and their own homestead to look after.” She picked up her knitting needles, again. The soft clicking sounded so untroubled. “Tomorrow, we’ll start preparing. Get some sleep.”

  Chapter 2

  “Food and physical security.”

  I tried to crunch my corn flakes quietly as Stella outlined her plans for the day. Clearly, while I’d crashed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, she’d spent the night hours thinking.

  “We’ll expand the vegetable garden,” she said. “And the orchard is in fair condition even if I’ve neglected it the past couple of years. I’ve been relying on Angus next door for eggs. He raises rare breed poultry. But we need our own hens. And pigs. I’ll check the sty for how it’s holding up. Pigs are the devil for getting out, but they’re excellent for turning food scraps into meat. If we could get the field plowed this week, we’d have a chance to get oats in. I’ll ask Jake Seeborne.”

  She had a long list of scribbled notes beside her plate of toast. She’d been tapping it with her spoon, but now she pointed the spoon at me. “What skills do you have? I saw the crossbow. Can you use a gun?”

  “I’ve had firearms training. Pistol, rifle and shotgun.” I pushed away my empty cereal bowl and picked up a slice of toast. “My parents didn’t have time for me. I’m not saying that to grizzle. They didn’t, don’t, have time for me, but they had money to pay for other people to keep me occupied. Anything I was interested in learning, I learned. And then there were summer camps. I can ride a horse or dirt bike. I can shoot a gun or use my crossbow, but I’ve never had to shoot a person. I think I could if I had to—to protect myself or someone vulnerable.”

  The toast—or the topic—dried my mouth. I gulped some coffee. “I can cook. I know how to preserve fruit and vegetables by canning or drying or pickling. I have first aid and CPR certificates, a black belt in karate, and when I go fishing, I’ve been taught to clean my own catch. When the world settles down.” I couldn’t believe it wouldn’t. “I’m going to continue my education. I plan to be a doctor.”

  “GP?”

  “Psychiatrist,” I answered. And as her eyebrows soared. “Not to fix myself. The crazy ways people think and act interest me.”

  “Fair enough. To sum up, you have a surprising number of pioneer skills, and I reckon you’re willing to learn.”

  “Yes.”

  “But there’s only two of us.” Stella had finished her breakfast. She watched me eat the last of the toast. “We require at least one more person if we need to defend this house and the food we’re growing.”

  I sucked in a loud breath because that was preparing for the worst with a vengeance.

  “We’re in the country, but we’re relatively close to major towns and cities. I expect the town will organize some sort of defense if the situation gets that bad, but I’d like us to be prepared. Independent.”

  I thought about independence. “I mentioned my first aid training. If people need help, if the doctor needs support, I’d want to help.”

  “Good. We’re on the same page. If we’re to help others, we need to be standing on solid ground. Get our house in order and we’ll have the time and energy to look beyond the fence line. Don’t underestimate how hard farm work is.”

  “I won’t,” I promised soberly.

  She nodded approval. “If you’ll do the breakfast dishes, I’ll contact Jake to see if he can plow the field this week.” She watched me gather our few plates and mugs. “Then we’ll go see Mike at the garage. I knew his parents, God rest their souls. He’s a good man for all that his time in the army left him a bit rough. His first concern will be his family. He has children your age. If they come home, he’ll look
after them. But it’s the men who hang around his garage that we’re after. Military veterans. We’ll ask Mike for a reference. One or two who’d fit in here and be willing to share protecting the place and lending some muscle in exchange for room and board. They’ll want to see us, and we’ll want to see them, so you’ll be coming with me.”

  “Okay.”

  She crossed to where the landline hung on the wall. Her hand hovered over the phone for a second. “Are you scared of dogs?”

  “No.”

  “It would be an idea to borrow one of Mike’s junkyard dogs.” It was a comment to herself.

  I cleaned the dishes and left them to drain, while Stella successfully negotiated for Jake to plow the field tomorrow. The washing machine had finished its cycle. I pulled out the bedspread and put the curtains in, grateful that the machine was a large one. There was no dryer, though. The bedspread was a heavy, awkward weight as I draped it over a clothesline and pegged it in place.

  Stella locked the back door and we took her car into town. The car was practically a vintage model, predating newfangled things like air-conditioning and electric windows. She drove cautiously.

  I had plenty of time to study the unpretentious houses that made up the town and how shabby some of them looked. I remembered one of my college lectures. A lot of poverty hid in rural areas. “Stella, if there’s anything we need, I have money. I’d rather spend it than do without.”

  She cocked her head, but didn’t glance in my direction. The quiet road apparently required all of her attention. “I’ll remember.”

  Noticing her white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, I made a mental note to be the one to drive in future.

  Mike’s garage was open when Stella parked in its front yard. Three dogs barked at us as we got out of the car.

  “Shut it,” a middle height, middle aged, bald man yelled. “Sorry, ladies. ’Morning, Stella.” His gaze flicked over me, but not in a rude way, more like he was assessing me. His gaze lingered on the ball cap I’d chosen to wear, the one from my summer camp uniform. It helped to place me as at least transiently attached to the town. “What can I do for you?”