Mexican Kimono

by Billie Jones

  ‘Look, drink up, Buttercup, we’re closing soon on account of the fact it might be our last night on earth and the last thing we want to do if that’s the case is mix drinks for a narcissistic, impetuous imbecile!’ said Surly Bar Guy with an imperious look on his face.

  I looked at the skinny red head with Gemma’s eyes and agreed. ‘God, I’d hate that, too!’ I looked at the people sitting at the bar to see who he was referring to. It was hard to work out because I wasn’t a hundred percent sure what any of those words meant. I figured he was talking about the skinny, short shorts-wearing, cropped-haired, elfin-faced girl at the far end of the restaurant. She had trouble written all over her like a tattoo. He rolled his eyes and stomped back to the security of the bar. I’d begun to believe bar guys were a bit like chefs. They had that bad temper and a superiority complex. Fine if you’re ugly and famous or ugly and French, but not if you’re ugly and work behind a bar.

  I added Surly Bar Guy to the list too. This was going to get worse before it got better, that’s for sure. I drank quickly, keen to leave the sudden chilliness of the silver shed. I looked around and for the life of me couldn’t see why we had liked this place. It was like a meat locker for a serial killer. Cool, but in temperature, not popularity.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said. ‘I think I’m single-handedly in charge of protecting the world, so I’d better not dilly-dally.’

  We left Life’s a Beach vowing to never return. It was one of those places that was so hot it was hip for a moment then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t. Its ship had sailed.

  Chapter 20

  Agatha Who?

  Timothy held my hand as we meandered down the deserted street. I half expected tumbleweed to tumble past. It was eerily quiet as we walked slowly, bumping hips every second step. Even in times of emergency we didn’t run. I admired our coolness in a calamity, but wondered how I was going to extricate myself from him so JJ and I could concentrate on finding a black witch.

  ‘Tim …’

  ‘Sorry, Sweet Cheeks, it’s Toff. I’ve gotta hit the road and get dressed for the dinner crowd. It takes a few hours to apply my make-up. I’ll see you in the early hours of the morning, maybe?’

  ‘You’re going to work even though it may be the end of the world as we know it?’ God, talk about money hungry.

  He laughed like Toffany would, which gave me the heebie-jeebies. ‘I’m sure the net will be back up and running soon. Don’t sweat your pretty little head over it.’ My pretty little head? I should just click my shiny red shoes and Toto and I would find Kansas again.

  ‘Right, Toff. Well, this was fun and all …’

  ‘See ya, Sweet Cheeks.’ Tim-who’d-been-taken-over-by-Toff said, as he sashayed down the street preparing to morph into the tough-talking transvestite that so intimidated me.

  I walked down the deserted street feeling like I was in some kind of backwater town after a nuclear disaster. The one person I passed was running with a wild look of panic in his eyes. That was never a good sign. My phone beeped back and I silently sent up a ‘Thank you, God,’ that phones were still working. If I couldn’t use my mobile, I feared for my sanity. It was JJ’s reply.

  Baby, sure I’ll meet you at Chocoholics Anonymous in fifteen.

  I sighed, contented. He knew me so well. Whenever I had an emergency, I craved chocolate. I think stress upsets my blood sugar level or something, so a quick dose of chocolate was more medicinal than fun. Surely those calories don’t count? It seems unfair otherwise. I crossed the lonesome street and headed for the small cafe JJ had suggested. I knew I was knee-deep in drama when I couldn’t be bothered texting him that I was too busy.

  I entered through the cobblestone-stepped archway. It smelt like coffee and chocolate and was bathed in dim lamplight. It was empty, so I sat next to the fireplace, which was roaring despite it being a warm day. The fire added to the ambiance and the yellow hue of the room. A short, grey-haired woman waddled out from behind the counter with an order pad in her hand. She looked serene and younger than her coarse silver hair suggested.

  ‘Would you like a menu, darling?’ she asked in dulcet tones.

  I glanced behind her at the sparkling glass cabinets that housed bite-sized treats in every colour and flavour. It would be impossible to choose.

  ‘I have a friend coming, so we’ll just try one of everything.’ Her face showed no reaction as she wrote on her pad and circled it with a flourish.

  ‘And to drink, my darling?’

  Behind the glass cabinets there were old wooden shelves set up like an impromptu bar. It seemed the chocolate factory served hard liquor. I was definitely coming back here in my next emergency. Chocolate, hard liquor and an excuse. Perfect. ‘I’ll take two whiskeys and a couple of Frangelico’s. We can match the chocolate to a liqueur once my friend arrives.’

  ‘Good idea, darling. You just relax now and I’ll start bringing them over.’ I did as I was told and leaned back in my chair, feeling sleepy sitting so close to the fire. If I didn’t know better, I’d have guessed I was in a little French village.

  JJ swaggered in when I was halfway through the plate of chocolates. He kissed me and licked the sweetness from my lips. Cheeky.

  ‘Sorry I took so long. Very hard to hunt down a Bruja with no Internet!’

  ‘Oh, back to reality. I’d almost forgotten, sitting here getting drunk on chocolate.’

  ‘Mmm,’ he said licking his lips, ‘you taste like hazelnuts and honey.’

  ‘Good guess! I just had a hazelnut praline and a honey liqueur.’ JJ looked around the wood-panelled room. ‘I guess I’d better order a drink too.’

  Like magic the small lady appeared, little pad in hand. ‘Hello, darling. Would you like a drink to start?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll have a bottle of the honey almond liqueur and a bottle of the apple schnapps, please. Maybe just one of every tempting morsel you’ve got over there, too,’ he said, gesturing towards the cabinet. That’s what I love about JJ – a man who knows his mind and knows how to order.

  ‘The good news is, I found a Bruja,’ JJ said.

  ‘Great. What’s the bad news?’

  ‘It’s José’s sister.’

  ‘Oh no! Really? Is she the only one you could find?’

  ‘Yep. He’s actually a Brujo and she’s a Bruja. I thought it would be safer to try her first. It means you may need to go alone.’ I shivered at the thought. Me alone with José’s sister, whom we’d never met, but obviously had the same genetic code as him, so chances were she’d have the same sociopathic homicidal tendencies. I was doomed. This curse was like a pimple on prom night. It kept gathering momentum and increasing in size.

  ‘Well, I guess I have no choice, do I?’ I said sadly.

  ‘No, I guess not. Here’s her address.’ He passed me a Post-It note. ‘I’ll wait around the corner for you. I won’t be far away. Just far enough that José doesn’t see me, in the unlikely event he’s there.’

  ‘But if he’s a Brujo, won’t he “see” you anyway?’

  JJ crossed his arms and leaned back, surveying the chipped ceiling. He clucked his tongue. I thought I’d better drink up in case this was my last foray. ‘Hm. I really don’t know. Maybe I should ask your mum what she sees.’

  ‘Oh, please. She doesn’t “see” anything. The less she knows, the better. Next thing she’ll mention it to Loose Lips (Kylie) and then everyone will know.’

  He nodded. ‘Where’s the kimono now?’

  ‘Ah. Well here lies the next problem. It’s on eBay.’

  ‘eBay?’

  ‘Yep. At exactly 4.04 I listed it on eBay and am unable to get it off at the moment.’

  ‘Oh my God! It’s totally infected the World Wide Web!’ I knew he’d know. He’s super-smart, that boy. I rarely had to spell anything out, unlike some cute but dense people I know.

  ‘Yep, so here’s the dilemma: how do I get it off eBay when I can’t get on eBay?’

  He rubbed at his chin like people do when they
want to look like they’re thinking. ‘There’s got to be a way.’ He stopped his chin-rubbing to try one of the little exotic chocolates. He chose a cocoa-covered chocolate truffle with a dark chocolate ganache filling. I was sort of annoyed I didn’t see it first.

  ‘What if we turn your computer clock back to, say, four, and see if we can delete the eBay post that way?’

  ‘Yes! Good idea, but I am not setting foot inside that apartment while that crazy, cursed kimono is there.’

  ‘OK, I’ll do it. I mean, it’s not like I’m cursed, so I should be safe.’ He began to look worried, well, as worried as you can look when Botox has removed most of your facial expression.

  ‘Don’t go just yet.’ I reached over and held his soft, manicured hands. ‘You only just got here.’

  ‘I know, ma chérie. I’ll have a few more shots of that honey liqueur and then I’ll leave. The sooner we sort this out the better. Have you thought of any more people to add to the suspect list?’

  ‘Practically everyone. I mean, jealousy’s a curse. It’s been well documented. Even May Day, one of Toffany’s drag queen friends, gave me the evil eye. It could be anyone!’

  ‘According to Agatha Christie it’s always the person you least suspect, the person with an alibi, or the person who was in another country at the time, the person who seems most unable to do it.’

  ‘Who the hell is this Agatha, then? Do you mind keeping focused on me for one second?’

  ‘She was a writer, a crime writer back in …’

  ‘Look, JJ, I don’t want to hear about all your arty-farty friends, OK?’ He laughed, which I thought was highly inappropriate.

  ‘OK, no more Agatha Christie talk, but I just want you to think of people outside the square that you’ve been considering. It could be someone you upset a long time ago, even,’ he said.

  ‘Wow, you make it seem like I go around upsetting people at every turn!’

  ‘I just want you to work this out so you’ll be safe. If you consider what’s happened already …’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ The Jaws theme blared out of my phone and scared the bejesus out of us. We jumped like Kris Kross did back in the eighties.

  ‘Mum! How are you?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, darling, I had this awful vision of you when I was having my afternoon siesta! It was just horrendous …’

  ‘What now, Mother?’

  ‘Well, you single-handedly shut down the Internet, which affected the entire world! Then you sent JJ over to your apartment to reset the time on your computer and he was inadvertently electrocuted when he stuck a knife in the toaster because his bread was stuck! Then …’

  ‘OK, enough, enough! Jesus. JJ died?’ JJ’s head snapped up in alarm. Whoops. Should have kept that on the down low.

  ‘No, he doesn’t die, but let me just put it this way, you’ll never be jealous of his love affair with his hair again!’

  Really? That was worth considering then.

  ‘Great. Well, as usual, Mother, this has been fun.’

  ‘Darling, you didn’t let me finish. I know who curs …’

  ‘Love you.’ I hung up on old crazy pants and only briefly wondered if it was worth risking JJ’s hair over. Normally I wouldn’t think of it, but JJ and his Hair-affair did get on my nerves.

  ‘What was that about me dying?’

  ‘Ah. Oh, that? That was nothing. Just don’t make toast at my place, OK?’

  ‘OK.’ He looked at me uncertainly as he fumbled with his liqueur glass. I was concerned that something might happen to JJ at my apartment and since he was my chief investigator in all things cursed, I decided I’d better take some precautions. I’d take my handbag to Mum’s friend – the lecherous old lady who looked into the future. She was kind of right about the car accident and earlier that week I’d received a twenty-five percent discount voucher in the mail from her. I really find it hard to pass up a bargain.

  I told JJ my plan, minus the electrocution part, and he agreed.

  We’d go see Athena, the fortune-teller, then we’d see José’s sister, the Bruja. I was ruing the cost of all this mumbo jumbo. We finished our bite-sized pieces of heaven and thanked the little old lady for her hospitality. I had to go to the toilet after all those drinks, otherwise I definitely would have paid. Anyway, I thought it was high time JJ put some effort in fiscally to this so-called relationship.

  JJ called Athena, while I waited outside. He walked out to the kerb where I was waiting and held me tight. He managed to hug the warmth from the fire that was just leaving my body. ‘You sure know how to live large, Samantha,’ he chuckled.

  ‘Are you implying I’m fat?’ I said, outraged. Surely he knew the stress rule?

  ‘No, no, God no! Look, it doesn’t matter. Let’s go find this Athena lady and see what’s what.’

  It doesn’t matter. The fact that my boyfriend thinks I am a big, old, fat, shrieking harridan doesn’t matter. Oh my God. I think I’m having a panic attack.

  ‘What. What’s wrong?’ JJ bent down to look into my eyes. Somehow or other I’d found a clean part of the kerb to sit on so I could hyperventilate without street grime as an added stress.

  ‘You think I’m fat!’

  ‘What? No I don’t! You’re beautiful! Curvaceous, statuesque. Marilyn-esque, even!’ He paused, looked to the heavens for guidance, and continued, ‘You’re what every man lusts after: a voluptuous woman with bountiful breasts and a body that begs to be touched all over just to see if you’re real!’

  ‘Every gay man, too?’

  ‘Oh, ma chérie. I’m telling you it was just that one time, and really she was dressed as a girl, so I’m sort of not gay technically anyway!’

  I pondered his statement for a while and wiped the tears away, dreading to think what this outburst had done to my make-up.

  ‘Hush, baby,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We’ll get this whole curse nonsense sorted, and then I’ll take you to Paris to recuperate. We’ll kiss under the Eiffel tower! We’ll frolic on a beach in the Côte d’Azur. We’ll drink burgundy in Burgundy. We’ll visit Champagne and drink champagne!’

  I was caught up his enthusiasm. ‘We’ll eat croissants in croissants!’

  ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘let’s focus. We’d better get a move on otherwise we’ll miss our appointment with Athena, the fortune-teller. She slotted us in as a favour to your Mum and she charges for missed appointments, you know.’

  ‘This is what I don’t understand, JJ. How can she charge someone for not making it to an appointment? Can’t she “see” they won’t make it and therefore book someone else in? She’s double booking! It’s an injustice!’

  ‘Hmm. Maybe she can only “see” if she’s holding that person’s property.’

  I truly worried about JJ sometimes. How the hell could she hold a person’s property? Lifting a house? Even an apartment would be a stretch. Beauty and brains – can’t have both in some cases. We continued down the cobblestone street holding hands and swinging our arms, like children do. There was no one around, and while I knew that should have concerned me, it didn’t. I liked the fact it could be me and JJ alone forever.

  ‘So, will you come to Paris?’

  ‘I, ah,’ what was with these boyfriends of mine wanting to whisk me away? Trips abroad with money no object? Oh wait, let me confirm that. ‘I really can’t do a budget—starving-artist tour of Paris, JJ. I have an aversion to bed bugs and stale bread.’

  His laughter rang through the twilight. It sounded like a favourite song, familiar and uplifting. ‘I have some money put away for just this purpose. Don’t worry. We’ll do it in proper, fully fledged, high-maintenance Samantha-style with not a penny spared.’

  ‘OK, great!’ Now, how to tell him Timothy wanted to take us around the world?

  ‘So, is that a yes?’

  ‘Oh, look, here we are.’ Saved by the monstrosity standing before me.

  Chapter 21

  Fortune Tellers and Mexican Witches />
  ‘Jesus. That is the scariest-looking mansion I’ve ever seen,’ JJ said.

  I looked at the foreboding castle-like structure standing before me. It was like something out of a fairy tale. An evil fairy tale. The garden was a mass of brown weeds and dead grass. I felt cold just looking at it.

  I held JJ’s hand a little tighter. ‘Are you sure this is number thirteen?’

  ‘Yes, it says so over there.’ He pointed to a number plaque that was hanging loosely from the side of the front door.

  ‘This place is super-creepy,’ I said.

  JJ nodded. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

  We opened the rusty gate, which made the appropriate horror movie squeak, and continued up the path to the front door. JJ rapped the wrought-iron circle knocker covered in cobwebs.

  ‘Running a business from home, you’d think she’d make the place a little more presentable,’ he whispered. Everything was dead, broken, dirty or caked with cobwebs.

  ‘Especially such a huge house. She must have a pile of money if she can afford something this big in this suburb,’ I agreed. We were close to Cottesloe beach and properties around here were worth their weight in gold. Athena’s house was six times larger than the standard in the beachside suburb. It was a shame she’d let the place go. We didn’t have time to confer as a gust of wind whipped my hair back and there she stood in all her fortune-teller glory. An imposing woman with piercing grey eyes.

  ‘You must be Samantha,’ she said, reaching out to shake my hand. Her grip was firm like a man and, instead of shaking it, she just held it steady and squinted at me. I couldn’t help but notice she smelled like mothballs. I tried very hard to hold my breath, but thought she’d see my nostrils flaring, so eventually gave up and exhaled a huge expulsion of pent-up air.

  ‘Gosh,’ she said, ‘a little early for hazelnut liqueur, don’t you think?’ Oh my God. She knew that from holding my hand? She was good. ‘I’ve had a very stressful day as you can imagine. It’s medicinal rather than social,’ I explained.