by Tonya Kappes
It was okay. It was the only time she let me have sugar, and I wasn’t going to complain.
On that particular birthday, I thought she’d changed her mind and given in when Mr. Prince Charming showed up with a charm tied around his neck.
It wasn’t until years later that I found out Mr. Prince Charming had been sent by the Order of the Elders and the Whispering Falls village council to keep me protected since I didn’t live in the protection of the village. Somehow they had figured out that I did have the spiritual powers of my father and not the mortal side of Darla. Darla knew something was up because she let me keep him and the charm.
We’d been best friends since. He was a little overprotective, as he didn’t like me listening to Madame Torres, and he certainly didn’t welcome Oscar Park, though he didn’t mind it when Oscar tapped on my bedroom window. We’d sneak out of my window and run across the street to Oscar’s house where he’d stashed boxes of Ding Dongs. We’d devour every single one.
Whereas Darla never let me eat sweets, Oscar’s uncle, who was raising him at the time, didn’t care what Oscar ate.
Those were fond memories of a much simpler time when Oscar and I had no idea we were spiritualists or that we were destined not only to leave Locust Grove but also be married. However, I couldn’t say I wasn’t smitten with him from the first time I’d seen him.
Today was no different.
After Mr. Prince Charming and I made it through the woods and entered the open area where the Full Moon Treesort was located, I saw Oscar Park standing on the bed and breakfast deck, looking over at the tree line at us. He still took my breath away.
His blue eyes focused on me, and they glistened when his smile reached them. His beautiful white teeth glowed in the darkness. He wore a white tee shirt tucked into his jeans and a black belt. His black hair was kept nice and tight to his head, as always. He had thick black brows and high cheek bones that would’ve made him a model if he’d chosen that career path.
He stared at me intently as a vaguely sensuous light passed between us.
“Rowl!” Mr. Prince Charming growled his dislike and darted up the steps of the Full Moon Treesort.
Full Moon was unlike any bed and breakfast or resort. It was a fully run, five-star accommodation, only the rooms were all located in different trees. Maybe seeing Oscar walking down the steps of the Treesort really had my heart going pitter-patter because we were married on these very steps.
“Hey,” he greeted me in his southern drawl as he wrapped me up in his arms. “I really wanted to hug you at the ceremony, but I figured we had to be all business.”
I curled up on my toes and kissed him. Marrying Oscar was a dream come true, and I still felt like I was in a dream state when I was around him.
“Here’s your Mr. Sandman.” He pulled a small black velvet drawstring pouch from the front pocket of his jeans. “Are you going to go now?”
He asked about my business deal with Amethyst Plum, the owner of Full Moon Treesort, Whispering Falls’s first bed and breakfast. Of course it was a cover-up for her spiritual gift of Onerirocriticy, which was interpreting dreams.
Since I made homeopathic cures, she hired me to create an amazing sleep experience for the bed and breakfast guest, which meant a good night’s sleep. There was nothing better for that than my Mr. Sandman Sprinkles.
“I’ll head on up to the rooms and be back in time for the village council meeting.” I took the velvet bag and curled it in my grip.
“Let me know if you need help.” He lifted his tee shirt and exposed his wand, making me loose my breath for a second.
“You sure do know how to make my heart skip.” I winked and gave him another kiss before I darted back off into the woods, where the first guesthouse in the bed and breakfast was located on top of a big oak. It was the most spectacular tree house, and when guests saw it, they fell in love with the round structure.
Mr. Prince Charming met me on the path to the tree house. I looked up at the tiny white lights dangling along the tree branches, lighting our way.
Pops of colorful flowers dotted the path. The farther in the woods we walked, the Singing Nettles’s hum grew louder and louder, pleasing to my ears.
“Hello, my dears.” I bent down and parted the ferns, where the Singing Nettles were hidden. They had to stay hidden because their magical powers threw off any mortal.
I smiled as they hummed one of Darla’s favorite tunes.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” I sang along with them. Mr. Prince Charming dragged his long white tail along my back before he darted up the steps of the round tree house, reminding me we had limited time.
“Today I must hurry off,” I told the Singing Nettles. “But I promise I will be back soon.” I gave each one of them a loving tap on its stem.
Once I was up in the tree house, I couldn’t help myself from taking in the breathtaking views of Whispering Falls. This was the best tree house Full Moon Treesort offered, in my opinion.
The little house was decorated very romantically: a large fluffy couch and chairs along with fancy French chic furniture. The bedroom was just as fancy, with the off-white décor and the four-poster king bed draped in sheer curtains and dangling lights.
“You get off there.” I snapped my finger at Mr. Prince Charming to get him off the guest pillow. I walked over, ran my hand over the pillow to smooth it back out, and decided to start the Mr. Sandman Sprinkles there.
I took the small velvet pouch off from around my wrist and carefully opened the pouch. The spell didn’t require a lot of the potion sprinkles. Last winter we had a couple honeymooning from Honey Springs, Kentucky. The newlywed husband had gotten a little too much Mr. Sandman Sprinkles and didn’t wake up for days.
Could you imagine what his new bride thought?
Since then, I’d been very careful on how much went into each guest room. There was nothing better than a great night’s sleep in a tree house. The fond memories made Amethyst’s customers keep coming back.
I took a pinch from the pouch and rubbed my fingers together, walking around the room so the glittery dust fell as the spell glistened all over the room. It was the perfect amount, and I knew this guest was going to feel well rested in the morning.
“Mewl, mewl.” Mr. Prince Charming made sure I didn’t dilly-dally since we were short on time.
With my fairy godcat on my case, it took no time to get in and out of the guest tree houses, leaving a dabble of the Mr. Sandman Sprinkles behind.
Laughter spilled out of the main building. The full moon hung over the Treesort. It was a guaranteed sight. Amethyst made sure every tree house and the main building had a full moon every night. That was hard to explain to guests, but with magic you can make mortals think anything.
I grinned when I saw Amethyst pass by the big window in the massive structure nestled deep in the forest. She wore a black pair of pants and a black buttoned blouse. Her black hair lay in loose curls down her back, and her thick black brows arched perfectly over her dark eyes. Her long lashes swooped down with each blink and smile she gave her guests as they took something she’d cooked. She was beautiful. Her only pop of color was the tips of her red heels, which she always wore.
I followed Mr. Prince Charming up the double-decker set of steps to the A-frame wooden structure, seeing nothing but the Audubon Society through the wall full of windows. I also saw the village council members gathered.
The inside of the resort reminded me of the interior of a ski lodge. In the middle of the open large room, a stone fireplace warmed the room with the roaring fire. All the walls were floor-to-ceiling windows, giving the most spectacular views of Whispering Falls.
I headed around the large fireplace to the other side of the room. Two large farm tables and benches stood on each side. Amethyst had them set with dishes, utensils, chalices, and cloth napkins, ready for someone to sit and partake of the delicious smells coming from the boiling pot on the gas stove.
Amethyst was a sout
hern Good-Sider who happened to come to Whispering Falls to open the bed and breakfast. She fit in perfectly.
As soon as I turned the corner of the fireplace, Oscar noticed me and waved me over to one of the couches where the village council members were gathered.
“All is good.” I referred to the Mr. Sandman Sprinkles and held up my wrist, from which the empty black velvet pouch dangled. “Did you have the meeting?” I asked if I missed it.
“No.” Gerald Regila twisted one side of his handlebar mustache between his fingers. He looked dapper in his usual top hat, tailed suit coat, white shirt, and yellow ascot tied around his neck. He was British and very proper. He was also very charming, especially when tourists came into the Gathering Grove Tea Shoppe, where he read their tea leaves without them knowing.
He was also good at getting a read on other spiritualists in our village, which broke our number-one village rule against reading another spiritualist without their permission. Like I said, he was from a British village that had much different rules than we did in Kentucky.
“Amethyst didn’t get the paper this morning, and she had already planned a little get-together tonight with the guests of the Full Moon.” At the sight of all the meandering tourists, he snapped his eyes from behind the wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
“We are going to have to just let things play out while you two are camping.” Oscar gestured between me and Petunia.
An audible groan escaped from Gerald. He definitely disapproved of Petunia being gone from home, just as she had suggested he would.
“We will be fine.” Petunia ran a loving hand down Gerald’s arm. He pouted. “It’s time you get home so Faith can leave.”
Gerald grumbled a few more times and got up.
“We’ll keep you company.” Izzy grabbed a fistful of Chandra’s cap.
“Yes. We will.” Chandra got up and readily agreed with Izzy when she realized Izzy was telling her it was time to go.
Petunia got up and walked with the three of them around the fireplace to see them off.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Oscar leaned in and whispered in my ear.
“Rowl!” Mr. Prince Charming batted at my charm bracelet, his way of telling Oscar that he would take care of me just fine.
“I get it.” Oscar put his hands in the air as he focused on Mr. Prince Charming. “She’s my wife, and I still worry about her.”
“There’s no need to worry.” I ran one hand down Mr. Prince Charming and kissed Oscar on the cheek, making them both happy.
“What an adorable cat.” Paris had come over with a few of the bird watchers. “I saw him today at the shop when he chased off the Spangled.”
“Are you sure you saw the Spangled?” the man asked.
“Do you think we are going to get a glimpse of the Spangled?” Paris asked me.
“You’re the one who claimed you saw it.” The man put his hand out. “Webster Jones. I take all photos for the local Audubon Society. I’m very interested to see the Spangled Smoky Momoko since there’s not been a sighting in the United States for many, many years. I’d like to find the nest.”
Petunia fidgeted. I gulped. Little did he know he was actually closer to the Spangled Smoky Momoko’s nest. In Petunia’s head of hair.
“I’m just saying that I’ll believe the sighting when I see it.” Webster gave Paris the side-eye.
“Are you saying that I lied?” She put her hand on her hip and glared at the man.
They exchanged looks that could kill.
“Now, now,” another woman tsked after she overheard her fellow Audubon Society member arguing. “We are going to try our best to find out what Paris has seen.” She pinched a smile, took a drink of the sweet tea in her hand, and looked at me. “Tammy Harp. I’m the newest edition to the club.”
“How new is that?” I asked and actually enjoyed getting to know the group.
“Two weeks ago, and we are delighted to have her. Cindy Sams, president of the club,” she told me. A pair of binoculars hung around her neck. “We are very excited about the campout. I’m so glad you thought of it.”
“There’s no better time to see the Spangled if it is here.” I referred to the glow of the bird. “Tell me about your binoculars. They look pretty fancy.”
“These are Skygenius.” She lifted them off her chest and rotated them around for me to get a good look. “They are very lightweight, and the power is amazing.”
“They are too powerful for bird watching.” Webster looked at them. “Really, those are for nosy neighbors.”
“They are not.” Cindy brushed him off. “If we are going to see one of the last Spangled, I think they will come in handy. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
“Going back to the Spangled,” Webster changed topics, “I’d read an article about how they were in mating season in the Congo, and there are only two other noted Spangleds still alive.”
My intuition told me he was not buying the sighting, which really made things easier for me. Maybe he was the one I needed to talk to and let him know we’d not seen anything like a Spangled here, and maybe Paris was mistaken. I would only do this in the hopes they’d leave Whispering Falls.
“Last I heard, there were only two pairs that are still breeding.” Cindy Sams was telling the group about the annual Audubon meeting she’d attended in the spring, where they discussed the rare species.
“That’s why it’s so important we get the one here and get it into a zoo where we can breed them.” Paris didn’t help matters as she tried to convince them they were doing the right thing.
“Why are they dying?” Petunia asked.
My gut said she was trying to get a handle on why the bird had sought her out and what soul was deep inside of her hair.
“Poachers,” Paris spoke up. “They want the feathers to sell. In fact, I’m not sure if you follow the Kentucky Derby where they featured a hat from one of the billionaire’s wife’s hat. The feathers were from a Spangle. It’s a shame.”
“We know the Derby.” I nodded and made a mental note to check out that hat.
“As soon as we saw it on the TV, we jumped in our van and began the protest,” Tammy mentioned.
“What is so important about them?” Petunia asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cindy, the president, strapping her camping pack on and grabbing her stick as if she were ready to head out. I couldn’t help but notice how she had dropped her stick when a man walked into the room. They seemed to have the same reaction to each other and exchanged a few words before he noticed me looking at him.
“Their feathers are rare and used in many hats around the world.” Tammy nodded and looked at everyone. “If there was one here, we’d have to make sure it was preserved. Especially in Kentucky.”
“And that’s why I’m here.” The man who Cindy didn’t seem to care for had joined our little group.
He wore the same sort of outfit but had a patch sewn on his jacket.
“Adam Vedder. Zoologist at the Prebble Exotic Zoo.” He made eye contact with everyone there. He carried a fancy walking stick carved with a nice handle that resembled a bird. The bird’s beak appeared to be gold. “I’d gotten word there was a rare sighting of the Spangled Smoky Momoko, and if that’s the case, we will be taking it back to the zoo.”
“You can’t do that.” Webster’s chest popped out. “You are the reason these animals become instinct. They thrive in their natural environment.”
Petunia lifted a shaky hand and stuck it deep inside of her messy updo as though she were checking on the bird.
“Isn’t an exotic zoo the best place for extinct creatures to reproduce and be re-introduced back into the natural environment?” Tammy seemed to have asked a good newbie question that made me interested in hearing what Adam had to say.
“We do our best to do that,” he said with a stern face. I could feel the follow-up “but” coming. “But, some species”—Adam’s eyes searched Webster’s ve
st for his name—“as Webster has suggested, do better in their environment. At the zoo, we can tag them, feed them, give them a good life to monitor them before we send them out into the world. We know of two Spangled Smoky Momokos that did thrive in a zoo a few hundred years ago. With new technology and better care, we are sure we can bring them back from extinction fairly quickly.”
“Who told you about the possible sighting in Whispering Falls?” I asked, only to see what was outside of the village and if I had to be concerned with it.
“I think we are ready to go.” He pointed toward Cindy, who was gathering up the society members, ignoring my question.
Tammy, Webster, and Paris followed Adam over to the group.
“That’s odd how he didn’t answer you,” Petunia said and checked her hair again.
“Yes.” I watched the group and how he interacted with them. “I couldn’t help but notice how Cindy Sams had reacted to him.”
“No, but I’ll keep an eye out.” Petunia’s words hit my gut, sending my intuition into a flying color of aura around my head.
“Keep an eye out” was the term we’d been using about the crow flying at midnight. The little signs had proven to help me as a spiritualist not only with the homeopathic gift but also my intuitionist gift. And Petunia’s words weren’t lazy. There was a meaning behind them, telling me to keep an eye on Adam Vedder.
Chapter Nine
The trees whispered faint coo-coo sounds. To the mortal ear, it would be like hearing the rustling of the leaves from a gentle nighttime breeze. It was a constant reminder to keep an ear and eye out for any sort of secret meeting taking place between now and midnight.
The moon was full over the trees and gave off much-needed light between the leaves, creating a glow along the path as Petunia led the group. I was the last one in the hiking line since I was familiar with the area, and no one would stray. It also gave me a good position to see everyone and hear what conversations might be taking place.
“I’ve never seen a cat stay next to their owner like that.” Webster was walking in front of me.