Rhinestone Way

by Addison Creek

  “What can I help you with? What are you looking for? The basis for a stun potion? One to build a garden? To live in a world where time travel as possible?” The figure moved closer to us.

  He was surprisingly welcoming for someone who supposedly did not like other people.

  When he got closer, I realized to my shock that the owner of this establishment was a young man. He wore a dark brown hat, and around his waist was a fancy belt with some especially beautiful owl feathers sewed into it. He had black eyes and black hair. His skin was pale, not surprisingly given that he lived in the Bleak Area. I didn’t think the sun had touched this part of Twinkleford in a very long time. The young man would not have been out of place among the vampires.

  He looked back and forth between us and seemed as surprised to see us as I was to see him. “You two were not what I was expecting. Have you been in before? No, I didn’t think so. Are you here for gardening supplies?”

  He spoke fast and nervously, as if he didn’t like talking to people in general or young ladies in particular. We were about the same age, and he seemed uncomfortably aware of that fact. I had a feeling that he mostly spoke to the owls.

  “I’m Lowe and this is my cousin Jade. We’re Rhinestones,” said Lowe.

  The young man’s eyes showed some recognition and he looked at me curiously. “Yes, I’ve heard of you. Very polarizing figure. Then again, your sister seems to have given everybody the slip. Impressive. Downright wonderful if you ask me. I follow her exploits. If she ever wants an owl feather, you tell her to come here. Don’t go anywhere else. Those other places are poor quality.”

  I glanced at Lowe. She had mentioned that there were other places around town that sold owl feathers. This guy didn’t seem to think very well of them.

  “Are you the apprentice?” Lowe asked.

  The young man blinked at her. He didn’t appear to take offense. It almost seemed as if he didn’t understand the question. “No, of course not. I own this place and run this establishment. My name is Michael Fieldcorn.”

  Now it was my cousin’s turn to blink in surprise.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “Yes, well I don’t know how I feel about you yet. I’m going to have to think about it. I will also need to know exactly what you’re doing here. I do live on the other side of the cemetery for a reason,” he said.

  Michael was anxious for us to understand that he didn’t value company. To be fair, I had already taken the hint when I found out that he lived on the other side of the cemetery.

  “We were actually hoping to ask you some questions,” said Lowe, glancing around the stuffy, dusty, musty room. There were no tables or chairs. It seemed that Michael had been working on a stack of boxes when we interrupted him. From the way the place smelled of incense and potpourri, I wondered if he’d had an entire field of flowers shift into this one room. Then I looked at Michael and doubted it very much.

  “Oh, I’m afraid I don’t answer questions. You’ll have to find somebody else to ask questions of. I don’t like questions,” he said. He turned around and started fiddling with the boxes again.

  “How could you not like the questions when you don’t know what they are yet?” I asked.

  He glanced at me as if he understood the irony of what I had just done. Unfortunately, I was entirely serious. “I can’t help you with some school paper or something. I’m a working man and I have a lot to do. Do you see all of these owls? I care for them. Find someone else to assist you with your nonsense.”

  Since we hadn’t explained what we wanted, I wondered if that might help soothe his agitation.

  Lowe was thinking along the same lines. “Forgive me for not being clear,” she said, stepping forward. He looked at her and blinked again, apparently still surprised that there were young ladies speaking to him. “We wanted to ask you some questions about an investigation we’re doing. Neither of us is a student. We’re looking into the illegal trade in owl feathers.”

  Michael went stock still and frowned at my cousin. There was a long silence, during which he continued to frown and Lowe continued to stand her ground. Several of the owls shifted and hooted at us.

  “That’s a serious problem. Looking into it is a good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” he asked, seemingly more to himself than to us.

  He turned sharply on his heel and made for another door at the back of the room. “Come along then,” he said. “We can talk in here.”

  His demeanor had changed completely. He now appeared more confident, as if we were comrades in arms. Maybe he was pretending that we were wooden dressers and that was making it easier for him to deal with us. You never know.

  The room he took us into was just as strange as the one we had left. First of all, it was filled to the brim with furniture, books, and bits and pieces you might find around an old home. In a matter of seconds I counted at least twenty doilies. If that wasn’t strange enough, it was all perfectly orderly and clean. Filled to the brim, but very clean. On the floor was a large old-fashioned rug.

  “Tea? Cookies? Care for any refreshment at all?” Michael offered, sounding very formal as he went through the options.

  Lowe frowned, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. She was wondering if it was safe to drink liquids from this person. She landed at the same conclusion I did: maybe not quite yet. “We actually just had lunch, but thank you. Maybe next time.”

  “Do you suppose you’ll be returning?” Michael asked. He made his way over to a sitting area. Instead of a coffee table, there were stacks of books topped with a flat sheet of glass. He did the motion for crackle so fast that I nearly missed it, but a tea tray with a China tea set on it appeared on the table. It occurred to me that he must be an excellent good warlock if he could do something like that so smoothly.

  “I hope you’ll not find me rude. It’s nearly my afternoon tea time,” he said.

  Lowe and I followed him over and took our seats on the sofa. “We may have to come back. This is an ongoing investigation. We don’t know what’s happening, but we do know that you know a lot about owls,” I said as I watched him carefully pick up a couple of sugar cubes with small tongs and drop them into a teacup.

  “I do know a lot about owls. Not so much about illegal trading. Nobody has ever asked me such questions before,” he said.

  “You haven’t been threatened by anyone?” Lowe asked.

  He frowned at her. “Who would threaten me?” He didn’t sound the least bit afraid, just curious. I wondered if that was bravery or foolishness.

  “I was thinking of the Vixens, but I’d be open to anyone at all,” Lowe elaborated.

  “Oh, them,” said Michael dismissively. “I’ve heard of them. I didn’t think they were a real threat. Then I heard that they had killed Jonathan. I think they’re trying to legitimize their organization.”

  “Do they have an organization?” I asked.

  “They at least have an organization of Vixens, don’t they?” he frowned. He sat back in his chair holding his tea, looking placid and still not the least bit concerned. I supposed he had a point.

  “But you haven’t had any dealings with them?” Lowe asked.

  “We don’t know who they are, correct? Therefore, I do not know if I’ve had any dealings with them. I do know that no one has showed up here and introduced herself as a Vixen and offered to make any sort of deal with me,” he said.

  “Okay, I guess that makes sense. Have you had any of your merchandise go missing recently?” I said.

  Michael took a offense at this. “My merchandise doesn’t go missing. I keep perfect track of the owls. They would never leave me and I would never abandon them. I know where they all are at all times.”

  After seeing how heated he had gotten, I assured him that I had meant no offense. “I’m new around here. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re irresponsible or a bad businessman.”

  He inclined his head. “I appreciate that. I forgive you your silly and ignorant notions.
Be that as it may, I’ve had no problems. If someone is trading in owl feathers, it isn’t me, and it isn’t with my merchandise.”

  “How many other owl traders are there in town?” I asked.

  “Two other official ones, then a handful who sell feathers legally on the side. Not fancy feathers, mind you, just the regular ones for the most part,” he said. I expected him to elaborate, but his lips stayed stubbornly pursed.

  “Do you have any idea which one might be trading with the Vixens?” Lowe asked.

  “I would hate to speak poorly of either of the other official traders. I would say that one isn’t a very serious trader. He only has three owls. It’s more of a side business for him. I would say that the other, Potter, is more of an expert,” he said. His tone implied that he really wouldn’t mind speaking poorly of them and probably had before.

  He nodded his head several times, as if he was sure he’d said something helpful. I felt exactly the opposite. I had no idea how what he’d said was helpful at all.

  “Why do you think no one has asked you to join in the illegal trade? Since my arrival I’ve heard that it’s quite popular around here,” I said.

  “We are not pushovers,” said Michael. “I come from a family of traders. We go back several generations of warlocks. This is my family’s home. My family’s property. We were one of the founding members of the town. I mean, we got here a year after it started. I would hope that I would not be considered someone to mess with. Kind of like your grandmother. Still, I’m cautious. I know that mixing magic corrupts. I also know that I have owls that none of the others have. For particular spells, my owls might be the only option. So far, I do not believe that those spells have been performed. I would know,” he said.

  Michael didn’t exactly sound cocky. He also didn’t sound as if he was afraid of being attacked. In fact, I rather got the impression that he knew more about this topic than he was letting on. I also got the impression that if an attack did come, he would relish it.

  He took another sip of tea.

  “I sense that you expect trouble,” I said.

  He shrugged. “What I have in the room we just left is very valuable. Some of the owls I have there can’t be found anywhere else, they’re the last of their kind. Therefore, in order for witches to make certain potions, they must get the supplies from me. So yes, I do expect trouble. Always have. That’s something that my father, and his father before him, instilled in us. We cannot be complacent. If we are, we’re doomed,” he said.

  “Don’t you think you might be safer somewhere closer to town? Being all this way out and near a graveyard seems dangerous,” said Lowe.

  “This is where my family always wanted to be. On top of that, I have a good relationship with the graveyard residents. Skeletons are actually a lot of fun once you get to know them,” Michael said.

  Lowe shivered a little bit. She did not appear to agree with his assessment. “I think it’s creepy.”

  “My owls like it as well,” Michael added.

  “Now, I’ve told you all kinds of information. I’ve been open about my business. Are you going to tell me what exactly is going on?”

  Lowe sighed. “We think feathers and pearls are being traded illegally, and the illegal trade might have led to my friend’s death and someone else going missing.”

  If we expected a big reaction from Michael, we were destined to be disappointment. He basically didn’t react at all.

  “Don’t you want to know more?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “Owl feathers and other potion ingredients are dangerous business. Why do you think I mostly stay here and don’t go out? If you’re trading with Vixens, that’s even worse.”

  “Right. Well, we just wanted your input. Thank you for providing it,” said Lowe, shocked by his reaction. She dug in one of her pockets and pulled out the small trinket box. “A token of our appreciation. We know your time is valuable.”

  Michael’s eyes literally lit up. There was probably more light in the Bleak Area from Michael’s expression than there had been in years. He reached forward.

  “For me?” he asked, in a sort of wonderment.

  “Yes, thank you again,” said Lowe, surprised again by his reaction.

  “This is unicorn dung, is it not? I shall treasure it,” said Michael. He looked like he meant it.

  “We don’t need to take up any more of your time,” I said, feeling that we had gotten as much out of this first visit as we were going to get. “Maybe we’ll go and speak with this Potter fellow and see if he might be able to shed some light on what happened.”

  “You do that. I’m sure he’ll be positively delightful,” said Michael.

  “You haven’t met him? You don’t exchange owl care tips?” I said.

  Michael wrinkled his nose. “I don’t meet people often. He has never come here. He probably wouldn’t dare. His grandfather stole his first owl from my grandfather. That’s how his family got his start. I don’t intend on forgiving him for it.”

  “That sounds complicated,” said Lowe.

  “No, an illegal owl feather trade, coupled with an illegal trade in pearls, that’s what’s complicated. Possibly overshadowed by Vixen murders. The story of a young owl stealing from a rival family is quite simple. If I ever see him I will kill him,” said Michael.

  “Then who would take care of your owls when you go to prison?” I asked.

  Again Michael shook his head, apparently not the least bit concerned. Maybe he threatened to murder owl rivals all the time. Maybe that’s why there were so few in Twinkleford!

  Okay, I was getting ahead of myself a bit.

  “The good news is that I don’t think that will happen,” said Michael. “Potter knows better than to ever come here. I highly doubt the sheriff would arrest me. Like you just said, no one else could take care of these owls if he did, and that would be a disaster for Twinkleford.”

  That actually isn’t what I had said, but I decided not to argue. Instead, we told him we should get going. “Feel free to come back,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t poison the tea next time.”

  So Michael was perfectly aware of why we hadn’t accepted his tea. Lowe was about to argue with him again, so I grabbed her arm and propelled her away. There was no point in digging the hole any deeper.

  Once were outside, I was surprised by how late it had gotten. It wasn’t dinnertime yet, but it was close. But the sun was still high enough to make it hot, and I immediately started sweating, which was very annoying.

  “We should get home. Bethel is going to wonder where we are,” I said.

  Lowe agreed, and we were on our way. As we left, I couldn’t help feeling eyes on my back.

  Chapter Ten

  We made our way back through the cemetery. Now that we were on our way out, I noticed the smell of fresh earth mingling with the heavy air. There was a new grave nearby.

  I increased my pace.

  Lowe hadn’t noticed, and she just kept walking. As we were leaving the cemetery, I slowed my pace to look back one more time. The figure had straightened and turned. Staring back at me was a beautiful woman whom I had never seen before. She looked old, not young, but I could tell that she was powerful. I wanted to stop and say something, but she quickly turned away and I lost my chance.

  “Are you coming?” my cousin asked.

  I hurried after her and we made our way through the Bleak Area. Back in the center of downtown, Lowe stopped to buy a loaf of bread for dinner. The trolleys were full with the end of the day work crowd.

  Once we were off the gray and brown trolley and walking home through the trailer park, I asked my cousin, “Why didn’t the trolley stop at the Crown Borough?”

  Lowe snorted. “They don’t usually take the trolley. They’re too rich. It would be a sign of desperation for them. The trolleys usually stop there at the start and end of the work day for the sake of the folks who clean for Crown Borough residents. I guess just not this time.”

  As we rounde
d the turn to our own cottage I saw Lisa and Lucky standing outside, chatting with Bethel. With a big floppy hat on her head and a wicker basket over one arm, my grandmother looked as if she had been working in the garden. Several cats were milling around her. Poking out of the basket was an array of fruits and vegetables.

  When Bethel saw us she grimaced. “Where have you two been?”

  “We could say the same to you,” I said.

  “You could, but I wouldn’t if I were you. As the grandmother it’s my job to keep track of you two. Not the other way around,” she said sharply.

  “Well, you three enjoy dinner. We’re going inside now,” said Lucky with a smile. The two ladies waved at us and disappeared into their home. I notice, not for the first time, that the grass was overgrown and the whole place looked like it might fall down. I wondered why they didn’t get somebody to fix it, then I told myself it was probably because they didn’t have the money.

  Without a backward glance, Bethel headed toward the house. We trailed after her and the cats scampered into the garden. I had the distinct impression that we were in trouble.

  By the time we got inside and took our shoes off, my grandmother had made it into the kitchen. Her bonnet was on the table and she was already chopping vegetables. The kitchen view was of the back field. In the distance I could see several unicorns grazing.

  “Is everything okay?” Lowe asked tentatively. We were both hot, and I was hoping to have headed up to take a shower by now. Given how angry Bethel seemed, it looked like we weren’t going to get the chance.

  “You tell me,” said Bethel, without looking up. She was an experienced vegetable chopper, moving through the onions as if they were nothing. I didn’t know how I should feel about the fact that my grandmother was so good with a knife.

  “We’re fine. Thank you for asking,” I said.