by D. C. Gomez
“OK, I think I have enough money to get us enough groceries for the week.” The awkward silence was driving me nuts. I had to say something, since Bartholomew looked a little pale staring out the windows.
He gave me a strange look. “Why are we not using the corporate card?”
OK, it was my turn to look dumbfounded. “What corporate card?” I had missed something.
“You haven’t read your manual.” It was a statement. He didn’t even bother asking me.
I was embarrassed to admit he was right. “I’ve been busy the last couple of days.”
Bartholomew shook his head in disapproval. “You are so behind the curve here.” He was looking a little smug as he spoke.
“Fine, boy genius. Give me the CliffsNotes. What am I missing it?” I tried not to glare as I drove down the street.
“You really need to read your manual. I won’t be able to do it justice. But we get a corporate card to cover all house expenses, which includes unlimited food.”
My jaw hit the ground. I was sure I looked like a cartoon character. “So rent, utilities, cable, Internet, and even food are all covered. Please tell me you’re not messing with me.” I waited patiently for the horrible truth.
“Those are the essentials. You also get your monthly stipend as well as a monthly clothing allowance. I guess it’s almost like the military.” Bartholomew looked as if he was comparing numbers in his head.
“How much is this clothing allowance?” I knew I was not hearing him right.
“Five hundred dollars, and you get it on the fifteenth.” He looked worried.
“Definitely not like the military. I got a clothing allowance only once a year.”
“Try not to spend it all. Requesting an increase is very time-consuming and requires lots of paperwork.” He made a face that looked highly annoyed.
“Why would anyone need that much money for clothes each month? That’s crazy.” I couldn’t remember spending that much in a year. Most of my clothes came from thrift shops. I thanked my godmother for passing down some of her shopping habits.
“Teck went through his in less than a week each month.” Now that was one piece of news that made my day.
“Ninja Alchemist was a fashionista? That is precious.” I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. I had a mental imagine of a metroninja in leather pants fighting the forces of evil with Gucci shoes.
“He liked his clothes. So he spent his stipend and allowance on clothes and accessories. New York was dangerous for him.” Bartholomew looked sad.
“That’s an understatement.” I felt guilty and needed to change the topic. “So how much is this stipend?” I had known some interns in college, and they never made any money.
“Your first year is $5,500 a month after taxes, and you get it on the first. If you’re really good, you can request an increase in six months. But you’ll get a raise of at least five percent each year.”
I was dumbfounded. I knew I wasn’t hearing right. “Are you serious?” I was using that phrase a lot lately, but I couldn’t help it. I was in shock. I had never made that much money in a month.
“Hey, this is a dangerous job. You have to be compensated.”
“OK, Bartholomew. Wait, can I call you Bart? Bartholomew just seems so grown.”
His eyes lit up as if it were Christmas morning. “Sure thing. I’ve never had a nickname. Pretty soon I’ll have a secret identity and—”
I had to stop him before he decided to leap buildings in a single bound. Bartholomew really needed friends his age. “Slow down, now. One thing at a time. Let’s stick with the nickname. So tell me, where does the money come from? I mean, we pay taxes; there’s insurance. This looks pretty legit.”
“Have you heard of the Boatman?”
I had no clue what he was talking about. I shook my head, and my miniature professor continued.
“Back in ancient times, people used to bury their dead with a coin in their mouth, so the ferryman would carry them to the afterlife. Over centuries, many forms of that ritual have evolved. Who do you think the ferrymen work for?”
I was in awe. “Really?” I was trying hard not to ask him if he was serious again.
Bart smiled. “Add a bunch of people dying to the power of compound interest, and you have one super-rich entity.” Lectures made Bart glow with information.
“So we are actually a real company?” That was insane.
“Money has always meant power. As long as you’re paying the appropriate Caesar of the times, have all your documents in order, and have a simple backstory, you’ll be surprised how the world looks the other way.”
I had pulled up to the Granary while Bart was talking. I was in shock. “I can see why most people don’t turn down the job.” I was actually surprised more people weren’t taking out interns for the position.
“Yeah. They normally read the manual the first day. The fringe benefits are pretty amazing. There’s a short history of the enterprise in the manual as well.”
Ouch. I was never going to live that one down.
We parked in front of the store, with an empty space on either side. It would be easier to load the minivan that way. Only two other vehicles were parked in front. I always wondered where the staff parked. For a Monday afternoon, the place was pretty empty. Fridays were usually a nightmare, since most of the workers from the army depot were off on Fridays and were running around town. I was so lost in my thoughts and celebrating having enough money to pay that I ran into a person.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I had to look down, since I had run into a little girl. Bart had to peer around me.
“It’s all good, Ms. Isis.” The little girl was probably around ten or eleven, but next to Bart, she looked even younger. Or maybe Bart just looked mature for his age. Being raised by Death and a talking cat probably had that effect on kids. It took me a minute to remember her name.
“Hi, Dulce. What are you doing here alone?” We really didn’t need kids disappearing around here.
“Mom is inside. She said I could stay in the car, since it was so nice today. I got bored and was going to find her.” Dulce and her family were regulars at Abuelita’s. I was pretty sure they were among the human regulars. Dulce had a habit of being easily bored. I was amazed she had agreed to stay outside.
“That’s a good idea.” I stopped midsentence. Dulce was staring over my shoulder across the street. I turned to follow her gaze.
“Ms. Isis, I think someone is trying to rob that lady.”
I prayed Dulce was right. Unfortunately, that evil black van was parked on the other side. The same two guys who had taken Bob were pulling the girl in. This time I could see two girls in the front of the van.
“Dulce, head inside and stay with your mom. Bart, we have to go.”
Bart was already running back to the Whale. Dulce looked way too curious for her own good. I could relate to her. I gave her a look, and she headed inside. At least my sergeant’s glare was still working.
Bart and I jumped into the Whale. I was not planning to lose those fools again. By the time we got the Whale turned around and facing 82, the black van had taken off heading west. Fortunately, they were trying to blend in and were not speeding off. That didn’t last long. As soon as we started following them, they took off like bats out of hell. The speed limit in this part of town was forty-five, and they were going at least seventy. I gunned the Whale after them.
The black van made it to the intersection with a green light and took a sharp left, heading out of Wake Village and the 59 loop. I was driving like a madwoman, and I took the same turn just as fast, except my light was red. Horns were honked, and Bartholomew was holding on to his door handle for dear life. I finally understood the term “oh shit handle.” The black van kept left and headed to the loop. If we didn’t catch them soon, we would lose them again. We took the ramp faster than recommended by most manufacturers. The Whale skidded all the way to the left. At least we didn’t flip. I had no idea how their van was
handling this so smoothly.
The Lord was on our side, since the loop was empty. We caught up with them, and I tried to cut them off to make them stop. OK, so I had no idea what we were going to do after we caught them. I just wanted them to stop. We were moving fast and had passed the Seventh Street exit when the crazy driver chick threw a ball out her window.
“Oh, shoot!” Bartholomew screamed and ducked in his seat.
The weird balloon hit the back door and made a hole the size of a head through it. Bartholomew and I looked at each other.
“That wench just threw acid at us.” A smart, normal person would have been terrified. Me, on the other hand—I was pissed.
“She’s a witch!” Bartholomew was screaming at me and looking paler than before.
“Witch, wench. Who cares? Look what she did to the Whale.” Why was Bartholomew getting technical here?
“No, Isis. I mean she is a witch, a real witch. The spell-throwing kind of witch.” Bartholomew pointed at the back door for emphasis.
“What? No way. Please tell me you’re lying.” This was insane.
He had no time to make me feel better. The black van took a sharp left into our lane.
“Watch out!” Bartholomew screamed as we were heading toward the median, thanks to the witches of Eastwick.
I was thanking the military for my training in defensive driving. That was the only thing that saved us from collision. I made a few quick maneuvers and pulled the Whale to a stop. The witches had taken the exit behind us at Lake Drive. I glanced behind us, trying to determine how clear our path was.
“Don’t even think about it.” Bartholomew’s voice was ice cold, and I froze.
“We’re going to lose them.” If we did a quick U-turn, we could catch them.
“We’ve lost them already. Besides, do you have anything here to fight with or shield us from spells? I don’t think so. You’re not going to get us killed on your first day on the job.” He crossed his arms and stared me down.
“Fine.” I beat my head on the steering wheel. This was a horrible day.
“We still need food. Can we finish that part and then head home? Constantine is going to want to hear about this. It’s probably a blessing that you don’t like to shop much. You’re dangerous.” Bartholomew’s color was returning, and I decided to drive at a moderate speed. He was never going to leave the house after this.
Chapter 11
I barely had enough time to drop off Bartholomew and the groceries at Reapers. With the witches and all the excitement, I was almost late for work again. Abuelita’s only had a dinner hour on Mondays and closed early. I promised Bartholomew and Constantine I would feed them that night, since we finally had food. As Constantine had promised, my clothes and small items were in my room when I got back. I dressed in my regular black shirt and pants and was out the door.
I walked into Abuelita’s exactly at 4:00 p.m. The dinner hour started at 4:30 p.m., and I knew I had lots to do after rushing out the day before. Abuelita was busy making rice and beans. She made her own tortillas, and those were already done. I had no idea what time Abuelita came in, but she always had so much stuff done, it was insane.
“Hi, Abuelita. Hope I’m not too late.” I dropped my keys on the back table and grabbed an apron.
“Isis, you’re looking much better.” Abuelita had a huge smile on her face.
“I finally got some rest last night.” I really needed to give Death thanks. Besides Constantine’s horrible training session, I was feeling so much better. Even the exercise had my muscles vibrating with new energy.
“You should try doing that more often. You’re almost glowing.”
I stopped short and took a breath. Was I glowing because of my crazy Death kiss or just because I looked refreshed?
“By the way, Constantine said hi.”
What happened next was totally unexpected. Abuelita dropped her wooden spoon into the pot and rushed over to me. In less than three seconds, I was being embraced in a huge hug.
“Thanks to all the saints in heaven you said yes. I was so worried you were going to turn it down. I felt horrible seeing you in so much pain on Saturday and not being able to help.” Abuelita was holding my face in her hands. I couldn’t move, so all I did was stare at her.
“You knew. I’m not even supposed to talk about this. How did you know?” I had a million questions I wanted answers to.
“Constantine asked to me watch over you when you started working here. They had to get everything ready before approaching you. Buildings are not done in a day.” Abuelita made that statement as if it answered all my questions.
“You’ve been watching over me for the last three months?” No wonder she was always so nice to me.
“Isis, please. We’re nice to you because you’re a doll, not because we had to.”
“Can you read my mind?” I was not prepared for all this.
“Of course not, silly girl. But your expressions are an open book. You need a better poker face. So don’t stand there. Start getting the utensils ready.” Abuelita moved back to her stove, and I ran over to the bar to get things ready. We had less than thirty minutes before people started coming. I angled myself so I could work and still see Abuelita.
“Why did you agree to do it?” Was I such a sad case?
“I wasn’t planning on it till you came in asking about the opening.”
Abuelita had started working the chicken for the tacos and didn’t see me staring.
“You weren’t?”
She glanced at me, and I started working faster, pretending the answer was not very important to me.
“Most interns are self-righteous, pretentious pricks.” Abuelita never cursed, so I knew she was serious.
“Don’t hold anything back, now. Tell me how you really feel.”
She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Trust me, Death hires talented, smart, and gifted people. But they’re insufferable and downright annoying. You were different. You weren’t too good to clean tables and work for a living.”
I had never thought she noticed my attitude that much. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.” I moved around the bar to get the chairs down and set the tables up.
“So, I guess you won’t be working here anymore.” Abuelita had moved over to the bar and was watching me. I stopped short. She looked nervous.
“What? Are you firing me?”
“Of course not. But I figured that’s why you came in today.” Had Abuelita hit her head on the stove?
“Abuelita, you told me to come in this week, remember?” I had my hands on my hips before I could stop myself.
“Yes, I remember, but you accepted the job. That was the message from Constantine. Interns don’t moonlight as waitresses in run-down Mexican places.” She looked sad.
“Abuelita, I have no idea what interns do. I haven’t even read the manual.” At that, she gave me a confused look. “Long story. The bottom line is, as long as you still want me, I would like my job. It gives me a reason to run away from my evil overlord of a trainer. As long as you don’t mind me missing at times due to soul business.”
Abuelita laughed—a rich, powerful laugh that was contagious. The tension in my shoulders melted away. I hadn’t noticed I was carrying any. I felt good not being alone with this huge secret. It meant I wasn’t crazy.
“That is the best description of Constantine. He’s all about soul business. But don’t think I’m going to treat you any different now.” She gave me a serious glare, but I could see she was trying to hide her smile as she walked back to the stove. “Also, don’t tell Angelito a thing. He is clueless. Constantine has already made the announcement, so don’t be surprised if people congratulate you. Those who do—you know what side of the fence they fall on.”
That cat was fast. In less than ten hours, I had already been inducted into the world of the supernatural. I wondered if that was how those boys in that series felt. My life was becoming a comic book.
“So, basically, I have to wait for people to approach me, and then it’s OK to talk shop stuff?” I needed a better guide than the ones I’d had so far. They were too vague.
“No. Not everyone who knows is for you. You don’t talk to anyone. You just acknowledge they know and watch your back. Some want your job. Others want you out of the way.” Abuelita was great at delivering horrible news with flair. She had steam all over her face as she spoke and didn’t even blink.
“I believe that. The benefits package is out of this world.”
“That’s because you might not last long, so it needs to be enticing. Please try not to get killed. I would hate to murder some people.” Now, that was true love, and I was afraid she meant every word.
I had to move a little faster to get the drinks ready. I had left all the plates in the dishwasher the night before, and I needed to get them set up. I prayed the Monday crowd would be calm when I opened the door. I peered outside, and the parking lot was empty. Normally on my nights, we had at least two people waiting in their cars to come in. Maybe this crowd was timid.
“Abuelita, what time do your Monday regulars come in?”
Abuelita had moved to the back to get the roast out of the oven. She had to come to the front to answer me. “Usually between four fifty and five fifteen. They know the nieces are never ready on time.” She went back to the stove to prep more food. The blessing of Abuelita was that she had a set menu for each night. So she always knew nothing was going to be wasted, three entrees per day.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been killing myself trying to get ready.” I now had twenty minutes to kill and not much to do.
“I thought you were making up for yesterday. By the way, did you find Bob?”
My good mood vanished. “Nope. They took another lady today. Bartholomew thinks they’re witches.” I was heading toward the bathrooms to check the toilet paper levels when Abuelita popped her head around the bar area.
“Isis, witches in Texarkana. Are you sure?”