The Curse of the Mystic Cats

by R. E. Rose

  “You’ve already tried “convincing Jane,” Emi said to Maisie.

  “Oh, that was nothing,” Maisie said, casually. “That wasn’t really a try. It was only a test. I needed to see what the woman was made of.”

  “Flesh,” Emilia said, licking her lips.

  “That’s not what I’m interested in. I needed to know her potential.”

  “Potential?”

  “Her magical aptitude, her strengths and weakness, that kind of thing.”

  “And?” Emilia asked.

  “And, as far as I’m concerned, she’s hired.”

  According to the Knowitalls, Maisie, at some point in the evening, switched from gin and tonic to White Russians. Emilia soured Maisie’s White Russian right then and there, which annoyed Maisie no end, so she made Emi pay for it. “I’m not doing anything to help you harm Jane,” Emi said.

  “Working in the shop does no harm,” Maisie emphasized. “It gives her a job for life.”

  “You mean for eternity,” said Emi in my defense.

  “What’s the difference? She gets to stay young and beautiful forever. And you get to be near her always,” Maisie said.

  “That’s not what Jane wants. Real care and concern takes in the other person’s wants and desires, Maisie.”

  Maisie gave Emi a look. “That sounds like true love. I wouldn’t bet my money on you as a death-dealer.”

  “Well, maybe that’s your problem. I’m a sure thing,” Emi said.

  Maisie took a sip of her drink.

  Emi took a hard sip from her glass of water.

  Maisie got serious and leaned in. “Look, I’m really busy these days, Emilia. I can’t have you working against me. I already have Devon doing that! The carnival is coming, and we need to be ready.”

  “Fun,” Emilia said without enthusiasm, not believing for a minute that Maisie had the kind of power that could stop her, a death-dealer, nor did she believe that Maisie could trade her in, or do her in, in fact, Emi was beginning to realize that on her own, she held a quite a few cards up her sleeve. “What’s this carnival really all about?” Emi asked.

  “Meadowvale hasn’t had any fun for awhile, so I convinced the mayor to create an ad hoc committee, and they decided for a carnival this summer instead of waiting another few years. It’ll be held in old farmer Magee’s fallow fields at the edge of town.”

  “Those carnival types are trouble, you know, sketchy, at best.” Emi took a good look around. She stood and stared at a booth with four people sitting in it. She noticed that the bearded man wore a skirt and lipstick, while the man beside “her” was incredibly tall. Across from this couple sat two people that appeared to be joined at the hip, literally.

  Maisie looked around, too, and guessed what Emi might be thinking about the clientele she observed at the restaurant. They all looked like regular carnie folks.

  “But it won’t be the regular carnies. Do you think I’d let vagabonds and gypsies take advantage of us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you don’t know me very well.”

  “I think I do,” Emi said. How much of a cut are you getting?”

  *

  Emilia wasn’t happy that night. No matter how Maisie packaged me as the perfect replacement for the deck, Emi knew I didn’t want it.

  The two women reached a standoff

  “What the eff ?” Maisie asked. “I smell smoke.”

  “I do too,” Emilia said.

  “The kitchen,” Maisie said in a hushed tone. They both stared hard at the kitchen as a huge tornado of smoke made its way through cracks at the top and bottom of the door.

  Others in the restaurant began to head for the exits. That’s when Emi got more than an eye full of the eccentric oddities A woman with four legs hurried by carrying her tiny male dining partner in the palm of her hand. He looked spiffy dressed in his top hat and tails. He tipped his hat at the women, but Emi only managed to gape back.

  Maisie and Emi didn’t run from the restaurant because they were unsure of how much danger they were actually in. They smelled smoke, but no alarm or sprinklers went off.

  At first, the restaurant patrons walked, limped, or hopped quickly but politely to the exits, but it didn’t take long before most elbowed their way out as the smoke billowed and grew blacker and thicker. They panicked, running to get out, simultaneously and all at once aware of their dire circumstance.

  “Oh, fuck,” Maisie said, her voice rising in panic. “We’re trapped Emi!”

  Thinking that the kitchen staff could handle the fire, and if they couldn’t my magic would, I hurried back to my table where the smoke and the mayhem hadn’t yet unsettled the diners.

  Shane and I finished our unbelievably tasty meals. I had no idea food could taste that good. Shane’s seared tuna dish with rice and beans looked picture perfect, but I wasn’t big on raw fish, or even fish that looked raw. I’m a steak and potato kinda gal, so I had some. I gave the lobster tail to Shane, who seemed to love anything that came from the sea. We’d no sooner cracked the spines on the desert menus when Shane got the call about the burning kitchen. Behind him flames now spurted out from the rear kitchen door cracks.

  He ran towards it.

  Shane Apollo went up a notch in my eyes. I looked around the room and noticed that most of the carnival characters made it to the exits and got out, but two members of the local Silver Bullets gang, discussing business quietly over a delicious meal and drinks, panicked too late.

  Emi and Maisie guessed wrongly which exit to take and headed to the opposite side of the building, but the Silver Bullet guys got there first. They were very large men who both tried to get out the door at the same time. But the gangsters found their escape route blocked by many panicked folks who got there first. The Bullet’s pulled out their Glocks and started shooting.

  I got out only because I managed to barely beat the rush to an unmarked door I’d made note of earlier. Outside things were a hot mess, bricks ablaze on the side of the road. Chaos seemed to be in charge of the situation. Many of the patrons stood on the street, dazed, watching the flames reach as high as the next tall building.

  “Get off the walk, clear the sidewalk for the firefighters.” Officer Justine Day had a section of road and lane cordoned off where she kept people from getting too close to the building. I ran to her and asked if everyone was out of the building, and she said the firemen were still checking.

  “Where’s Shane?” I asked. Officer Day gave me a strange look. Not ‘til then did I notice that she looked a little strange herself, a bit like a clown, a keystone cop, with a billy club. She moved like a keystone cop, too, doing a pantomime penguin waddle, then – no – she suddenly behaved normally.

  “Apollo – Shane,” I said, ignoring her strange behaviour. I think she’d seen the two of us eating dinner and my question threw her for a loop.

  “I think he’s inside,” she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. I looked at the blazing building behind her and wondered how much “inside” could possibly be left of that building.

  I heard half a dozen loud, popping sounds and assumed the fire tore apart the walls and décor, and not until much later did I realize the popping sounds were that of gunfire from the Silver Bullet Boys trying to shoot a hole wide enough through the crowd so they could climb out.

  I ran to the vehicles parked everywhere and climbed up onto the cabs of parked fire trucks, to get a better view and looked inside each one hoping beyond hope that I’d find Shane. No one tried to stop me. Everyone worked on the blaze. Only two firemen stood outside, but Shane wasn’t there, which meant there really had to be a whole bunch of guys inside the crumbling structure of the Gourmet.

  The smoke changed direction and surrounded me like a grey demon. I grabbed a tissue from my bag and covered my mouth and nose from the bitter menace. My eyes began to sting. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to keep them open; time for me to hightail it outta there. And with the continued pop, pop, pop of the gunfire ring
ing in my ears, that’s exactly what I did. Right back into the restaurant.

  Emilia and Maisie remained stuck inside with the crazed gang bangers blocking their escape.

  Panicked, Maisie shouted, “Emilia, do something!”

  Ms. Death Dealer didn’t hesitate; she took the two gang members down with her sword in one slash. The two men became four chunks of flesh, bone and sinew.

  Unfortunately, the two women were now stuck behind the huge and dead chunks of cut up bodies of the Silver Bullet Gang, as well, they were equally trapped by the warm pile of poor souls shot down by the gangsters.

  “Do you have any portal keys?” Emilia asked Maisie.

  “No.”

  Maisie was scanning the restaurant looking for a way out. I gave her a little wave but she didn’t see me.

  “Then, I guess this is good-bye,” Emilia said.

  Maisie gave her a look that said “Loser.”

  To Emilia’s surprise, after dealing death to the two men that blocked their escape, her belt changed colour again, going from orange to red with a little brown stripe on the side. She felt stronger, too and her sword also gained a subtle hue, from silver to indigo. She looked very pleased with herself and looked around for any more Silver Bullets to strike down.

  She asked Maisie if there were any other bad guys she could take out. But, by then, Maisie, overcome by the heavy smoke, which didn’t seem to affect Emilia at all, couldn’t talk. She explained to me later that she really wanted to help Maisie, but something inside her wouldn’t allow it. Is how she put it.

  Emilia panicked then because she suddenly understood her own internal flaw. She was a death dealer and even though her heart said; help Maisie, her head and body were incapable and refused to cooperate. Emi realized she couldn’t stop the death of others; she was a reaper and to save a life went against the very purpose of her creation.

  She could only stand there, helpless; looking at Maisie’s collapsed form. Yet, and quite miraculously, she saw hope through the black, choking haze; Shane Apollo, dressed in full fire gear, headed toward them, looking like a spaceman on a moon walk.

  *

  Shane eventually rescued Maisie and Emilia from their dire situation. Which made my heart stuck on him more, and I tried to work out all the angles, all the possibilities of us staying together, but I never was very good at figuring things out long term.

  At the time, I really wanted it to be true that if Shane didn’t use any of his magical abilities, or items, like his horse charm, he could stay free of his card for a much longer time. But deep down I knew that to get emotionally stuck on Shane probably wouldn’t do me any good.

  I decided I’d give William one more chance to catch up with me. But if he didn’t return a call soon, or show up on my doorstep, his chances would draw to a close.

  Later, I headed back to the Curio. I wanted to ask Maisie how long a major could stay out of their card and remain in the community if they didn’t use magic at all while they were out. I wondered if a major left out indefinitely, without using his or her magic, needn’t recharge. Of course, when I arrived at the Curio it was locked down with lights out.

  I went in through the back door. I knew where Maisie hid a spare key.

  Inside, it smelled bad, like old bananas and rotting onions. I put my sleeve up to my nose to filter the stench because I could feel my gag reflex kicking in.

  I noticed that the trash was overflowing. It looked as if she’d done some house cleaning and had cleaned out the fridges in the back then didn’t bother to toss the bags filled with molding, rotting stuff! Maisie kept trash cans in the front and in the back of the place, and both were filled to the brim, but from the back of the shop, where she grew and nurtured her weird plants and strange little animals for her dark arts, a really big, bad smell wafted up my sinuses.

  It smelled an awful lot like a dirty cat box. I turned on a few lights and did her a favour. I tied up the garbage bags and took them out to the lane, depositing them into the dumpster back there. I’d only been out a few minutes when surprise! Devon stumbled down the back lane toward the shop freshly singed and still slightly on fire.

  “Devon, you’ve got flames,” I said, excitedly. He seemed completely unaware of the fact that he was burning. He looked dazed.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah,” he said, and patted at the tiny row of orange flames going up the arm of his shirt. I grabbed an old rag hanging out of the dumpster and beat him about the chest and back until he was no longer burning; only smoking.

  “What the eff, Devon?” He wasn’t exactly my favourite person, but I didn’t want to see anyone burning, even if he was a demi-demon and probably used to the flames licking at him.

  “What are you up to? Is Whitman a part of this?” Hands on my hips, I stared him down.

  He seemed to regain his senses. In short order, he was groping me with his eyes.

  “I need to lay low, Janey. Whitman told me to burn the place down. That’s the plan,” he said in that impossibly low, gravelly voice of his.

  “Burn what place down?”

  “Gotham Gourmet,” he said, his eyes darted back and forth, up and down.

  “You burned down the Gotham Restaurant?”

  “Ah, ah, maybe. Yeah. I did. It was glorious, went up like a box of matches, ha, ha. And old Tuttie, he ran for it. Saved himself! Didn’t want to be cooked in his own kitchen!” I let him think he did all the burning.

  “Maisie’s eating dinner there!” I shouted at him. “Did she get out? And Emilia too?”

  “No-o-o, no-o,” he said. “Emi can’t burn, and she’ll save the old lady.” He grinned at me and lowered his gaze to my lady parts.

  He pulled out a cigarette and offered me one. I shook my head, put up my hand to stop him; I didn’t want him getting any closer. I wanted to slap him, but he scooted by me and into the shop, where he quickly locked the back door with me still out in the lane.

  That really infuriated me. I pounded furiously on that skinny door. I can’t believe I didn’t break it down.

  I ran right around to the front, but of course, it was locked. Through the window, I watched helplessly as Devon and Cassie, who somehow got out of the restaurant and must have entered through the front while I was out back, seemed to be getting along like best buds. Somehow, she and her boyfriend made it back from the Gotham before me! I watched the two of them long enough to see Devon start to perform sleight-of-hand to gain her attention and admiration. She clapped and got excited like a little girl. OMG ! I was furious when I saw that my dark blue Fontanelli clutch sat on the front counter!

  I knocked on the window, but they acted like they didn’t hear. Cassie glanced towards me once; her eyelids at half mast told me that she was higher than a cloud on top of a tornado. That’s when I remembered the window to the washroom in the back. So, I climbed the dumpster, wiggled in through the window, and stepped down onto the toilet, and through the door into the back room.

  I watched from the back as Devon flirted even more viciously with Cassie, the same way he’d done with me when he was trying to lure me to Maisie’s shop. Cassie appeared to sleep through the demon’s love soliloquy. He tapped her on the shoulder and did another little magic trick, like the ones I’d seen before, where he’d make the end of an unlit cigarette glow. Then he did his best trick: he pulled her “new” locket out of her ear, but Cassie hardly stayed focused, and only became lucid when her pimp boyfriend gave her a little slap.

  I watched as Devon flashed his paper bag full of cash at the couple, just as he’d once done to me.

  Drake Hellman, her “boyfriend,” a scrawny, scabby-faced, twenty-something, who dreamed of building a stable full of Cassie’s type to help him build his financial empire, worked as a gas jockey at a local station. I heard him as he yelled at his girlfriend.

  “Get! Get!” He told the very high Cassie to go with Devon on a date, but now the three of them seemed hell-bent on robbing the place, and Devon had his arm around Cassie the whole time. They
began to help themselves to Maisie’s stuff.

  That’s when I lost it and marched in, grabbed my clutch and pulled my hairspray out of the small bag. I came at them shooting. They didn’t know what hit them.

  I hit Drake in the eyes first and then Cassie. They shrieked and cried and started swearing, and luckily for me Devon accidentally knocked down a shelf that conveniently fell in his direction, knocking him off balance.

  Strategically speaking, it would have served my purpose to first hit Devon with the spray, but he stood a few steps out of reach. Drake made the worst fuss. I guess he realized I intended to send him back to the deck and he lost it, but even blinded he swung at everything in his vicinity. He cracked Cassie in the jaw, which knocked her out cold. He went after Devon, and I’m guessing he thought it was me, so Devon spent the next few minutes sparring with a blinded Drake, and I started laughing.

  Big mistake.

  The two men turned to me. I fumbled behind the counter for the lovers’ card wanting to get the annoying couple back in the deck, ASAP, but I had to spray Devon, and I did, blinding him.

  Of course, he overreacted by going into his full demon mode on me, changing into a frightening, hot, steam snorting abomination.

  I barely managed to evade him. I guess my boxing days with Manuel gave me a few good foot moves, but I knew avoiding this demon for much longer required more than fancy footwork.

  I grabbed the tarot cards, and fortunately I’d put Devon’s card on top. I shot it at him like an expert card thrower and hit the demon smack between the eyes with the card – but instead of instantly disappearing and leaving behind a smoke and brimstone vapor trail, and his paper bag of cash, he became, for a moment, his old self, which prevented him from returning to the deck when the card hit.

  But he couldn’t hold his human form long, and again he became demonic. I snatched up the devil card and hit him with it a second time! Gone! I stuffed his dropped brown paper bag full of cash into my purse and closed up the tarot box.

  I’d noticed that Devon had a habit of playing with a small stack of gold coins that he kept in his pocket. He often slipped these few gold coins between his fingers, like he had a tic. This time, when he disappeared into the deck, he’d left the gold coins behind, and I grabbed them. They’d be full of magic. I only had to figure out what they did, but I sure hoped it had something to do with money!