13 Bites Volume I (13 Bites Anthology Series)

by Lynne Cantwell

  Jake thought about it for a moment and nodded. “And be careful what you ask for…” he said.

  “Yeah,” Truman looked back at his book. “Be careful what you ask for…”

  Alesha Cary grew up reading mysteries and she still loves a good who-dunnit. But she's also a romantic at heart and believes we all deserve our own happily-ever-after — we just have to find the right person. She writes her books with a bit of romance and a bit of mystery — and sometimes a splash of paranormal. The mixture is different for each book, but you can expect to find some of each in every story.

  Just like her characters, Alesha lives on the Pacific Northwest Coast with her husband and two cats. Their neighbors are deer, raccoons, skunks, foxes, mountain lions and bear, and far too many birds to list. From her window she gets to watch the whales playing as they migrate.

  Alesha writes the CAROLINE DAWSON, HWE series and the REDWOOD COVE series.

  THE COSTUME SHOP

  Alesha Cary

  Chapter 1 - The Customers

  The young couple stepped into the shop, holding hands. The girl was wide-eyed and giggling, the young man more somber and a little protective. They obviously didn’t know what they were looking for, but they were intent and happy in their private world. I watched in silence as they sorted through the racks, pulling out costumes and whispering between themselves.

  I had a pretty extensive collection and the shop normally had traffic all year, but it was most popular near Halloween and New Year’s. With Halloween only days away, the racks were starting to look a little picked over.

  I watched the young woman for a couple of minutes, letting my senses discover what I could find out about her. She walked down the aisles of costumes, her hand reaching out to touch several along the way. She stopped a couple of times to pull out a costume from the rack, looking at it more closely, always fingering the fabric, luxuriating in the sensuality of what the fabric had to offer. Then she replaced the costume and continued along.

  The lovely purple aura above her head told me this was a woman with a certain level of refinement and awareness. She should have something epitomizing royalty and grace.

  The young man with her was a little harder to read. His red aura indicated physical strength and stamina, but the smudges of muddied grey along the outside edges, and the areas of red that were almost brown… these were not a good sign.

  No one is pure; we all have things we need to deal with to keep our energy clean. But the muddied colors concerned me a bit. Was this an indication of anger, or maybe something deeper? For a moment I had worries about the young woman and her safety.

  I focused more intently on the man, asking my guides to help me sort what I was seeing. I had visions of petty outbursts; a spattering of sullenness, even some feeling sorry for himself.

  Yet, when he looked at her, his eyes held a tenderness that overrode it all. It was as if his hard exterior melted away, leaving him an entirely different person when he was with her.

  “Oh, Sid!” she said. “I can’t make up my mind. They’re all so beautiful.” His eyes softened as he watched her delight.

  “It’s okay, take your time. We have all afternoon and the party’s not til this weekend.” She smiled up at him with an endearing shyness.

  “What do you think I should get?” she asked him.

  He laughed at her. “Oh, Mari, you’re so funny. How would I know what you should get? Anything you choose would be perfect, and fine with me.” The genuine affection in his eyes and his tone touched me. Where I had considered him just another angry young man, here he had exhibited genuine appreciation and caring for this young woman who was with him.

  It was too soon for me to step in, so I stayed behind the counter, just watching. I would give them time to figure out what would work for them.

  ~~~

  Most people don’t realize my little shop is more than just simple costumes for dress-up or make-believe. These are special costumes exclusive to my shop. They are constructed in a very remote section of Asia, through a special arrangement I have with a small colony there.

  Not only are they beautifully made, they are sewn together using thread made from a rare silkworm native to only that small region. The pupa of this silkworm moth is said to have hallucinogenic properties. These costumes have the special ability to intensify and enhance the qualities — good or bad — of the person who wears them.

  This is very handy for the actors who rent from me for their stage performances. Between their own natural abilities and the boost they get from the costume, it’s not surprising that I have regulars who return again and again, but even most of the regulars have no idea.

  Now, some people, if they understood about the costumes, might find it a little scary. But for most, it simply makes it easier to be who they already are in their secretmost being. Maybe they’ve been too shy or uncertain to share their true selves with the rest of the world. Or maybe they’re still not sure who that true self is.

  I’ve always found far more things to be grateful for than to be afraid of, but not everyone feels the same way I do. Wearing my costumes gives them a taste of what their life could be like if they simply let go of their fear.

  ~~~

  The bell at the door tinkled again as a tall, middle-aged man stepped into the store looking around, almost furtively.

  I smiled when he glanced my way, and he smiled back, looking as though he felt a little foolish. He headed straight back to the rear of the store where I kept my “manly-men” costumes — the knights, pirates, and superheroes.

  I wondered if he’d been here before. I usually remember my customers, so I studied him more closely for a moment. He was a slender man with a slightly receding hairline, and kind brown eyes.

  He lingered by the masculine, heroic costumes along the back wall. He seemed to feign disinterest, pretending not to notice them, yet all the while stealing glances at the rack. As I observed his behavior, I sensed some sadness and a little depression, and a longing for change. It wasn’t hard to imagine that he was a lonely soul, a little frightened to be noticed.

  It was time to help the young couple, and as I began to walk towards them, the bell above the door tinkled once more. The shop was getting busy, just as I’d expected. The last minute shoppers would continue pouring in right up to Halloween.

  In walked a man who looked to be in his early thirties, his pinky held tightly by a precious little girl with bouncing brown curls. She had the biggest green eyes I had ever seen. Instead of the usual excited smile most kids wore when they came into the store, she had slightly furrowed eyebrows and a very determined stare.

  She marched directly to the children’s section and began looking through the available costumes. I’ve seen plenty of auras around little girls and they are usually quite vibrant, shooting out lots of brightly accented colors. This little one had too many darkened areas - the greens and purples seemed heavy and brooding. With her countenance and aura, I sensed a desire for control.

  I watched as her father tried to direct her towards the normal fairytale costumes, but she completely ignored his advice. I grinned, remembering my own childhood. This young girl touched something in me.

  Chapter 2 - My Friend Jordan

  I was always an independent little being. Maybe I was born “old.” Sometimes I was so impatient to be “grown up” it was physically as well as emotionally painful. There weren’t a lot of other kids around, and the few in my neighborhood always seemed like babies to me.

  Even as a little girl, I had this uncanny ability to recognize people as they really were. It was easy for me to recognize who were worth knowing and being with, and who to stay away from.

  Normally I preferred to play by myself. I remember many times sitting quietly, wondering what my life would be like once I was old enough to fend for myself and no longer had to listen to teachers and other well-meaning adults. My mom understood, and she respected my preference for being alone.

  I don’t kno
w when it first happened, but one day an “invisible” friend came to play with me. My mom, bless her dear heart, went along with my stories about my playmate. She called Jordan my “little friend.” She always made sure to set a place at the table for him, and when she tucked me in at night she always said good night to Jordan, too.

  Years later when I asked her, she said she always knew there was someone there, whether she could see him or not. She trusted me in a way that no one else ever did. Over the years I had learned to keep his presence a secret to outsiders, but she gave me permission to have my friend, even when other people couldn’t see him.

  Jordan was pretty much with me all the time — at school, at home, even when I went away to college. At some point I no longer “saw” him as a being, but he became my special guide; the guide I would check in with anytime I was unsure or needed support.

  Over the years he helped me hone my natural ability to read people. He taught me what to look for, the visual signals regarding who and what to trust — the physical evidence that supported my intuitive knowing. But mostly, he taught me to trust myself.

  I was lucky to have grown up touched by the power and wonder of magic. My own gratitude for its presence in my life made me want to share my gift with others — to spread it around in some way. When I was younger, I wasn’t sure how that might show up or if my gifts would even be welcomed by others.

  Then one day Jordan urged me to catch the crosstown bus. I knew it was him because of the familiar heart-clearing sensation I felt in his presence, like everything just dropped away: worry, concern, fear, fatigue.

  When I jumped off the bus, there was the shop, directly in front of me. I laughed at the sign, Karmic Costumes, and below that: Choose Your Self in Here - Something For All Ages. This sounded like my kind of shop!

  In the corner of the window I noticed a small For Sale - Inquire Within sign. Stepping through the door, the tinkle of the overhead bell caused a small elderly gentleman to look up from the counter. He smiled and waved me over.

  “Well, well. I’ve been waiting for you,” he grinned, and pumped my hand.

  Lifting my eyebrows, I just stared at him.

  “Come. Sit. Give an old man a break,” he cackled in laughter as he led me to a desk behind the counter.

  “When do you want to take over?” he asked me, pulling papers from a drawer.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe you have the wrong person? I just stepped in here…”

  “Young lady, I’ve been at this way too long. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for, whether you recognize it or not. Better get used to the idea.”

  I shook my head in amazement as I silently thanked Jordan, once again, for bringing me to the right place at the right time.

  “It’s way beyond time for me and the missus to get a little travel in,” he went on. “I think I can show you the ropes in the next couple of weeks.”

  The terms were easy; a percentage of the profits would be deposited weekly into the gentleman’s bank account. I knew I’d be a fool not to jump on this opportunity immediately. The shop fit in perfectly with my vision, something that I knew I could do, and even better — it was already set up to help others.

  It had been successful from the very beginning, and in another year I would have the shop totally paid off.

  Chapter 3 - Selecting Costumes

  “How are you two doing?” I smiled at the young couple. She had decided on a beautiful billowing princess gown, and he seemed undecided between a werewolf and a zombie.

  “I think I like this one,” the woman said and smoothed the skirt of the pale yellow gown.

  “It will go beautifully with your hair,” I assured her.

  “Nyaaaahhh!” her boyfriend suddenly shouted, jumping in front of her wearing the werewolf’s head.

  “Ugh,” she sighed and shook her head. “Anything would look beautiful next to that hideous mask.”

  “Hm,” I said as I helped him take the mask off of his head. “I think we might be able to find something a little more suitable for a young man escorting a princess.”

  “Oh no, you’re not putting me in one of those poofy prince outfits,” he warned and narrowed his eyes a little as he straightened his shoulders. It was clear he had a lion’s share of defiance within him. I tried not to laugh as I led him toward another section.

  “Well look at these,” I suggested. “Here’s a knight, and a gladiator,” I showed him each costume.

  “No,” he shook his head and frowned. “I want something more…”

  “Badass,” his girlfriend rolled her eyes.

  “Ah, I see,” I laughed a little. “Nothing wrong with that. Gladiators were pretty “badass,” but maybe not for you. Halloween is a time to experiment with different versions of ourselves.” I paused a moment as my gaze settled on the Robin Hood costume. “You know, there is one costume that depicts both a criminal, and a hero,” I picked up the costume and held it out to him.

  “Tights?” he huffed. “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh no these aren’t really tights,” I explained as I showed him the material. “Just snug green pants, that’s all.”

  “Oh! Robin Hood is perfect!” his girlfriend gushed. She grabbed at his hand and gave it a slight tug. “Please? At least try it on.”

  “Well,” he sighed, his mood shifting the moment she touched him. He seemed to go from hardened soul to putty in her grasp. “I mean, if it’s what you really want.”

  “Just think, a princess and her protector,” I said with a dramatic swirl of my hand. “It will be an entrance to remember.”

  “All right,” he finally agreed with a lopsided grin. “As long as I get the princess, I guess it doesn’t really matter what I’m wearing.” He gave her a light hug.

  I smiled to myself. Young love.

  Once they had paid for their costume rental and left the store, I turned my attention to the older man. He was still standing alone by the costumes. He had pulled out a clown suit and was holding it in front of himself, head cocked to the side as he looked in the floor-length mirror.

  “Oh, no, no,” I couldn’t resist saying as I gently took the costume out of his hands.

  “No?” he asked with surprise. His voice was timid, and though he smiled, his brows were knitted tightly in the center.

  “I’m sure you have a great sense of humor,” I said. “But a man with cheekbones like yours deserves a more regal costume.”

  He reached up and touched his right cheekbone lightly. “Do you think so?” he chuckled, shaking his head dismissively.

  “How about something like this?” I pointed to the knight costume.

  “Oh, I don’t think I could pull that off.” He shook his head again.

  “Hm,” I ran my fingertips over the smooth felt of a pirate hat. “I think this would suit you perfectly.”

  “A pirate?” he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Just try it,” I grinned as I held the hat out to him. “Just put it on and see what you think.”

  He looked at me strangely for a moment, then carefully lifted the pirate hat onto his head. When he turned, seeing himself in the mirror, he was silent. I wondered if he would toss the hat across the store. Instead he carefully removed it. Without looking at me he nodded.

  “I’ll take it.”

  I nodded just as casually, handed him the rest of the costume and walked him to the register. As I rang him up, he avoided looking directly at me, but I could see the corners of his lips tugging into an upturned grin.

  “Enjoy yourself,” I told him as I handed him a receipt. “Halloween is a time to discover who you truly are.”

  He gave me a warm smile and headed out the door.

  “No way!” The little girl in the children’s aisle stamped her foot. She looked up at her father crossly. I was a little surprised by her behavior. She seemed a bit too old to be throwing a tantrum. But then, when it came to kids, there wasn’t always an age cutoff for that.

  “Now, Ell
en,” the man said sternly as he looked down at his daughter. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this costume.” He held a Dalmatian costume out towards her. “It will look so cute on you,” he insisted.

  “It’s not what I want!” Ellen stuck out her bottom lip.

  “Well, what is it that you want, sweetie?” Her father was obviously trying to be as patient as possible.

  “I don’t know,” Ellen wailed. “I just know that I’ll know it when I see it.”

  I walked over to the pair. The man’s cheeks were flaming with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. I noticed his ring finger had a circle of pale skin where a ring had recently covered it. I nodded and smiled, and then looked down at Ellen.

  “You know, I pick most of my costumes just the way you do,” I said with a warm smile. “I don’t always know what I want, but when I see it, I know it.”

  “You do?” she looked up at me with relief. Trying to get an adult to understand you when you are a child can be as difficult as trying to get a child to understand you when you are an adult. Thanks, Mom, I thought again with appreciation.

  “Sure. I have a feeling you need something extra special this year,” I said and led her along the aisle.

  “I want something magical!” the girl said. “But not magical like a unicorn, really magical!”

  “Hm.” I smiled a little as I paused beside a special costume. “Perhaps a costume that can grant wishes?” I suggested.

  “Oh, yes!” The little girl clapped her hands with excitement. “Like a genie!”

  “Or,” I stepped aside to reveal a satiny ivory dress that had all of the fanciness of a ball gown, “a fairy godmother?” I suggested.

  “Oh,” the little girl’s eyes widened. “That’s perfect!” she said happily. “If I wear this, I might get three wishes!”

  “You might,” I said and then lowered my voice. “But one thing I can promise you, the wishes you grant to others will be even more magical than the ones you keep for yourself.”