The Curse of the Mystic Cats

by R. E. Rose

  While I had the truck, I thought I might drive over to the carnival grounds and take a look. I drove slowly, scanning the edge of the fields for Shane, but he wasn’t anywhere.

  Was I a boyfriend vortex? If they had anything to do with me, they disappeared.

  I pulled the truck to a stop near a stand of mulberry bushes heavy with fat bunches of the red berry. A few scrawny trees tried to make a stand, but the mulberries were giving them a hard time. I sat in the shade awhile and watched as the carnies worked. I didn’t recognize anyone. These weren’t Meadowvale folks, or if they were, they were from a side of town I didn’t know.

  A tent had risen sometime in the night with three points lost in the blue, lightly clouded sky. The tent itself was light blue with white stripes which actually gave it a camouflaged look against the stark blue sky. One of the exit flaps was tied open, and through it, I saw row after row of bleachers.

  Around the main stage, the carnies seemed to be setting up smaller tents that were colorful, red, orange and yellow stripes, like swirling flame. The carnival rides still sat on the backs of flatbed trucks, piles of metal bones waiting to be pieced together, and the smaller rides sat on trailers hauled by pickups. I noticed that a few food booths were up and running and crews appeared to be on a break, standing in line buying coffee and drinks and hotdogs. It all seemed very normal. Then I noticed the animal building.

  A pickup truck slowly drove into it, towing a dark, shiny horse trailer in back. I got out of Shane’s truck, and I started to walk toward the horse trailer taking a path that hid me from the fairgrounds. I didn’t want to make my presence obvious.

  I got to the animal barn, and it smelled good, clean and fresh, but the floor was wet. I pulled my purse close and stepped carefully, not wanting my wedgie Marants muddied, yuck. I didn’t get far when I heard a horse snorting, stomping, and knocking at the side of its holding pen.

  I made my way over to it and recognized the black stallion from the cornfields. He looked at me with his liquid black eyes and calmed right down. I put out my hand, and he nuzzled my palm. I stroked his mane. He was beautiful. We connected instantly. He pushed his muzzle into my head and hair, and he breathed on my neck where the charm I’d taken from Shane hung from its chain. The charm started to heat up. It got warm, then hot. I finally had to step back from the stallion and remove the necklace. It was orange hot! I hung it from a metal bolt protruding from the wooden horse pen and grabbed my makeup mirror to check my neck for a burn mark, but there was nothing there. The stallion wanted the necklace and made gentle attempts to reach if from inside the pen.

  Something compelled me to take the necklace and hang it around one of his ears. But before I could get it there someone walked in from the other end of the building.

  “Hey!” he shouted. He was in silhouette. I couldn’t quite make out his details. “What do you think you’re doing?” I turned quickly and did manage to slip the charm over one of the stallion’s ears.

  I didn’t say anything to the man but quickly headed out the way I’d entered and left the building. I heard the worker in his heavy boots work his way toward me in a great hurry through the barn, coming in my direction. I was close to the big top, so I slipped in there through an opened flap of an emergency doorway, and I made sure I untied the rope and let the flap fall shut.

  Inside the big top, the very one I’d seen in my dream, I realized I was standing at the foot of the bleachers where the mysterious men in robes had stood. The place was empty, but for me. My hand was in my pocket and still very warm from holding the charm. Just when I thought I’d escaped from the guy that spotted me in the barn, I saw the tent flap beside me open up. A man in coveralls and a flat cap on his head stood there looking angry and dirty.

  14.

  Horse Feathers

  I faced the carnie, who looked to be in his late forties or early fifties; middle-aged but fit was how I’d describe him. He looked strong, and he stood about six-three. I was no match for this guy.

  “Are you lost?” he asked. He removed his cap switching the tone of his voice from annoyance to concern. He spoke in a polite manner. And he had an accent, Irish, I thought, something soft and not at all confrontational. “I didn’t want that beast in there to hurt you, miss,” he said.

  “I-I am not really lost,” I said, trying to think quickly. “My – that’s my horse in there,” I said. I pointed weakly back in the direction I’d come from. “He’s escaped – before.” I lied. The man started gently laughing. He seemed to know that wasn’t true.

  “Sorry, miss. I don’t mean to laugh at you, but that horse. I know of him.”

  “You know him?”

  “Naaaw. I don’t know him. But I know about him. He’s famous in these parts. My name’s Collin. I’m the animal master here.” He held out a very thick hand for a shake. I gave him my soft-fingers-only shake. I sensed that this man was no ordinary human being. I didn’t know what to do next, but at that moment the tent flap behind Collin opened up again, and there stood Shane Apollo.

  “Jane, sweetie, let’s get going,” he called out to me. He didn’t move.

  “I– I,”

  “Very nice to meet you miss,” Collin said, he slapped his cap back over the sparse hairs on his head. He turned then to face Shane. “Mr. Apollo, nice ta see ya again.” Then Collin walked by Shane shaking his head and laughing to himself and out of the tent he went.

  I stood there staring. Shane waved me over. He didn’t want to take one step into the big top. So, I went to him.

  “What the hell –” I said, but didn’t get to finish my thought.

  “You need to get me back to the shop, pronto.” Shane put an arm around my shoulder. He was very weak and had difficulty walking. I helped him back to the truck and drove straight back to town.

  By the time I got Shane back to the shop to return him to the deck to re-energize, it was dark out. The shop was locked. I didn’t see any junk paper or bits of things to organize to make my magic work and open the shop that way. I did remember that I had a key the fortune telling machine gave me months ago, after I’d come home late from a party one night and tried to get some cash from the fortune telling machine, mistaking it for an ATM – a long story.

  I fished around in my purse for the key. I looked over my shoulder at Shane who was moaning in the front passenger seat of his truck. As luck would have it, I found the key and tried it in the door.

  “Magic key, hear my plea, lose the lock and give me entry!”

  Click, click, click, the door opened, and we were in, but the key had gotten smaller! I had to get Shane inside. It was no good to bring the cards out of the shop to him. I’d learned they didn’t work that way. I went back to the car and tried to drag him in.

  It took a while, a half hour to be exact, but I finally got him secured inside the shop, well partially. He leaned against the door jamb, half in half out. I found the deck behind the front counter, thank goodness, and I immediately found his card; I ran it over and touched him with it. Zey-ZZZing he was gone. I hated to put him back!

  I stood there in the dark with the front door of the shop open, and the passenger door of the truck open as well. The shop lights and truck lights were out; the truck cab was ding-ding-dinging at me to let me know the door was open and the keys were inside. A huge headache began to creep over my scalp. And then it dawned on me that the Chariot card sat at the top of the deck, as if someone knew we were coming and placed it there.

  *

  The next day at the shop I talked to Maisie about Shane. She stood there staring at me as I came in. She didn’t act busy, like she usually did. She appeared to be waiting.

  “Maisie, I’m glad you’re here,” I said as cheerfully as I could.

  “How was your date?” she asked right away. She stood behind the counter. I went over and flipped my bag up onto the counter and stood across from her. I tried to get a sense of her mood, tried reading the expression on her face. She looked relaxed which relaxed me a li
ttle, although I didn’t want to let my guard down too much.

  “My date was an adventure. I heard your evening was quite the rollercoaster ride, too,” I said.

  She gave me a quick, short smile.

  “Shane Apollo,” I said, “is something else.” She laughed.

  “Yes. He is. He’s a horse. But not just any horse. He’s a black stallion.” Even though I’d figured that out last night, it still didn’t sit right with me.

  I nodded, indicating that I agreed, and then asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Wanted to see if you’d figure out.”

  “Well, I have.”

  “Good for you,” she said rather curtly. She gave me a why-are-you- here? Look.

  “Before I put it him back in the deck, I promised Shane I’d do something for him.”

  She looked at me without blinking, so I continued. “He told me you’d made him some sort of deal. If he saved your life, you’d let him free of the deck? Is that right?”

  She nodded in agreement. Then added, “Three times.”

  “Really? Doesn’t that seem a bit unfair?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I waited a moment and then I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “How are you, after the fire?”

  Maisie gave me a look. “How do you think? My investment burned to the ground. I spent half the night in Emergency on oxygen. I nearly got shot by Silver Bullet gangsters, and Devon has made an enemy of Chef Tut, one of my favorite people in the world.”

  “How’s Emilia?” I asked, hoping the outcome was better for her than it was for Maisie.

  “She’s fine too.”

  “Well, well then – about Shane’s predicament.”

  “Aren’t you concerned for William? I think the last time you were in here you were more worried about him.”

  I stopped for a minute to assess.

  “Of course,” I said. “Do you know where he is? He hasn’t answered my calls for days now. He took my cat and hasn’t told me what he’s done with her. I’m beginning to scratch him from the list of potential intimates.”

  “You shouldn’t be too hasty, Jane. He’s the better man.”

  “Well, how would you know? You enslave them all. Maisie, there’s something you should know about me. I don’t want a man. I don’t need one in the sense that I’m sure your generation ‘needed a man.'” I had her attention.

  “Go on,” she said.

  “They’re just dates.”

  “Then your date with Shane is over,” she said.

  “And William?” I asked.

  “There’s still a chance with him,” she said, sounding all mysterious.

  For some reason, I was really interested in what she had to say about William. I still had feelings for him.

  “Explain, please,” I said, surprising myself with my own sense of concern over William. “Shane told me William’s disappearance was related to an initiation –”

  Maisie gave me a big grin. She had me, and she knew it. But before she continued we both smelled smoke at the exact same time. From behind the counter, a thin stream of black smoke seemed to rise from the floor.

  I ran back there with Maisie. The tarot deck burned up from the inside! The box glowed red hot with heat, and tiny sparks and flames jumped free of it. I reached for it, but Maisie stopped me by grabbing my hand. I looked at her. She shook her head no.

  “But –”

  “Not to worry.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s Devon,” she said, although that didn’t make me feel any better. If anything, I felt worse.

  “What’s happening to him?”

  “Nothing’s happening to him. He’s angry. He thought it was a smart idea to hide from me after he caused the fire at the Gotham Gourmet. It was smart, and it did take me awhile to figure out that he hid in the deck. Very clever. A place he thought I’d never look because I know how much he detests being in there.

  “Unfortunately for him, he forgot that when he transforms into his demonic self and goes back to the deck, he leaves behind a small stack of gold coins. I found those last night when I was cleaning the place up. With those coins, I’m able to have him locked in for an indefinite amount of time.”

  “Really? You can do that?”

  “Oh, yes. When you’re the Guardian of the Deck, you can pretty much do anything when it concerns the deck,” she said, giving me a sharp look.

  “What can’t you do as the guardian?” I asked with sarcasm.

  “I have a proposition for you, Jane,” she said, ignoring my question. “If you’ll do something for me, I will fill you in on William.”

  “Everything about him, I need to know everything.”

  She agreed.

  I considered that for a moment. Nothing ever came free from Maisie.

  “Okay,” I said, perhaps a little too hastily. “What do you want from me?”

  “But first, the deck,” she said. By now the deck had left a light hazy smoke that filled the front part of the shop. The transparent smoke held mini-thunder-and-lightning storms that lit the atmosphere in spots with teensy fire bolts and booming sounds.

  “That’s Devon’s temper coming through,” she said.

  “What are you going to do about him?” I asked.

  “Nothing. He’s got to settle down before he can come out again. And I must think of a good punishment for his bad behavior. He’s already permanently tied to the deck, so that threat doesn’t work on him. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”

  Maisie pulled the deck up from the below the counter and sealed the lid, magically.

  “Boxes open, boxes close, this one’s sealed till heaven knows.” She then tapped the red hot lid of the box three times, and steam rose up from her fingertip; what she did looked very cool, even though the deck still looked like a dangerous, red-hot brick. I hoped the others in the deck didn’t suffer too much as a result of Devon’s nonsense. I thought about Emilia, then.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Maisie said.

  “Are you reading my mind, because that would really piss me off? It pisses me off when Devon does it. In fact, if you want to punish him some more you could take that little ability away from him.”

  Maisie smiled. “Your mind is wide open when you’re distraught. That’s the only time it’s readable. And, no, to that suggestion.”

  “No? Well then, back to William,” I said.

  “First, your assignment.”

  I gave her a go-ahead-and-spell-it-out look. Maisie got out her turkey-tail duster and moved around the shop, dusting while she spoke.

  “You know the carnival is setting up. They’ll be ready to go this weekend.” She looked over her shoulder at me.

  I nodded. I was with her, so far.

  “Good. You also know that each major from the deck carries his or her own magic item. In some cases, it’s more than one item. You, yourself have Joe’s wine bottle; a set of Justine’s cuffs; Malcolm Press’s magician’s cape and I’m not sure what all else you have.”

  Ssssure. I’ll bet she knew every single thing I had and then some.

  “Don’t forget I’ve got some gifts from you,” I said.

  “From me?”

  “The candle and feather? A lot like the one you used the other day to do the reading on me.” She shook her head like she had no idea.

  “What did they look like?”

  “A black pillar candle that smelled like roses and a long black feather, probably from a raven. You sent Shane by to instruct me on how to use them, but we never really got that far.”

  Maisie got right up into my face then. I backed away a little.

  “If I were you I’d be very, very careful of that gift.”

  “Why? What? Didn’t you send it?” I asked. I gripped the counter.

  “No!” she said, practically spitting.

  “And what about the empty black box you gave me?”

  “Have you discovered what’s in it
?’

  “Not since the last disgusting old dried banana thingy fell out of it. There’s nothing.”

  She tapped me on the noggin.

  “Have you any sense of the importance of these items? They’re special. They do magical things and respond to magical commands. You may not have figured them all out, but you should know that you must take care of them and not let others get hold of them. You are not the only one who has magical items from the deck!

  “From the deck? But the candle and the feather aren’t from the deck.” But she wouldn’t hear me.

  “I’m not done! You,” she pointed a very sharp finger,” are not the only egg in my basket,” she said, sounding somewhat sly and a more than a little mean.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I dug through my purse for a piece of gum. When Maisie made me anxious, I like to chew gum, and that way my magic wouldn’t accidentally sneeze out.

  “I’m training another to be Guardian of the Deck. There are others besides you.”

  “Others?” I was shocked! I felt wounded. All this time I thought I was the chosen one. I didn’t think I cared, but strangely, I did.

  “Well, one other, but never mind that. Don’t worry, Jane. You’re special, very special, but very obstinate. Still, the other trainee is about as strong minded and defiant as you and has something very, very important. It’s an item that is important to the success of the carnival. I need you to take possession of it.”

  I chewed hard on my gum. I considered what she’d just said about others being under her training. Maisie was recruiting other possible deck guardians. How did that make me feel? Slighted, as I realized I was in a competition I never really wanted to be in, and I didn’t know my competitors. And, I didn’t want to win, but neither did I want to lose. I was very conflicted, and I guess that’s exactly what she wanted.

  She continued.

  “The other trainee, in this case, has been doing things a lot longer than you.”

  “What does that mean? That she’s been training longer, so she’s magically stronger than me? You want me to steal something from her because really what you’re doing is pitting us against each other, so you can determine who the stronger sorceress is? Wow!”