by Iris Kincaid
Beryl knew the answer to that, from her own bitter experience. “Dreams, opportunities they never got to live.”
“Wait a minute. Are you telling us that we’re staying in a house that is haunted with these three ghosts?” Lucinda asked.
“Fortunately, after many years, Oberon was able to coax them into a departure. No, you won’t have to worry about them. Which is not to say that none of you will ever see a ghost. Surely, one of you must have inherited that strength.”
“Hopefully not me.” Lucinda frowned. “I’d much rather have his talent with the stock market.”
They all came to a halt as they noticed a large deer in the middle of the trail ahead. Not a cute fawn. Not a mid-sized doe. But a humongous, massive rack of horns male buck. And he started walking straight toward them.
“Oh, no. Those things are dangerous,” Lucinda panicked. “They’ve killed people with those horns. This is why I never go to national parks. We need to get back to the car.”
“I don’t think you’re the one that interests him,” Gwynifer assured her.
She was right. The deer walked right up to Mosh and started nuzzling her while the other two Shimmers watched in amazement. Mosh was no less amazed herself.
“You have an affinity with the creatures, wild and tame. It is a good thing to know if you ever find yourself in difficult circumstances, that you will be able to call on the protection of the beasts.”
“That’s uh . . . super cool,” Mosh, said, stroking the animal. “But when I leave Marvel Canyon . . . ?”
“You will lose all of your Earthborn powers. However, that is not the only thing that will cause you to lose your abilities. But let us be on our way, and I will continue the story.”
“Okay. Uh . . . bye-bye, Bucky.” Mosh gave the animal a few final pats and he seemed to understand that he was being dismissed. He gave Mosh a final nudge and then wandered into the forest.
“The Canyon is just a few minutes in this direction. As I was about to say, in the last several decades, Marvel Canyon had the outward appearance of a prosperous resort town but has nevertheless remained a very troubled place.
“The crime rate is unusually high. Criminals are emboldened, knowing that their wrongdoings will invariably be blamed on witches. With every unsolved murder, the tension grows between our two groups.
“We have been tried in courts beyond the reach of the powers of assistance of our community. And imprisoned. One of our own languishes in prison this very moment, though I cannot speak of it without my blood boiling.
“Your father knew, even thirty years ago, that a drastic solution was needed to heal this contentious divide. It was then that he had the idea of having children, each with a Mole mother. He wanted to create leaders who had strong ties to both the human and witch worlds.
“It was important to him that you grew up in the Mole world. That you identified and bonded with the Mole world. Then, when it was time for you to take your rightful place in Marvel Canyon, you would have a meaningful tie to both communities.
“The two populations have become so antagonistic, so distrustful of one another, that your father knew it would take that kind of unique and extraordinary background to lead the way to a future of respectful coexistence. It was a plan that he formulated some three decades ago.
“I had my reservations about this idea, but I was hardly in a position to influence him. He was my mentor and I was but twenty when your father hatched this scheme.”
“So you must be about fifty now,” Lucinda guessed.
“I will indeed turn fifty this year. Your mathematical talent is beyond reproach.”
Mosh, however, was not distracted by trifles. “No disrespect intended, but that’s kind of whack. He brought us into the world to do something that I’m pretty sure none of us wants to do. In a town where none of us wants to stay. Except . . . I can’t speak for Beryl. Maybe she’s cool with the idea of staying here forever.”
“I don’t know about forever. But I certainly wouldn’t mind staying here for two years if that’s all it takes to claim our inheritance. And now, I’m just . . . I’m just . . . well, aren’t you two curious about this whole witch thing?”
“No. No, I am not. I’m not interested in being stuck on the ceiling or in scary, friendly animals, or in haunted houses. I don’t see the upside of being a witch. I really don’t.”
“The upside! The upside is duty. Destiny. Service,” Gwynifer chided. “Your presence is needed now more than ever. Just two months ago, shortly after your father’s death, a child was killed and a witch was blamed. Falsely. Frightened Moles started leaving town, especially families with children. Tensions between Earthborn and The Many have never been higher. Not since the Cassaday sisters were killed.
“You are needed. To protect the Earthborn population from more of these baseless allegations. To help keep the peace. The lawless have been encouraged. They know that their criminal conduct will be blamed on witches. And it will only get worse.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Gwynifer let this all sink in as they continued to make their way to the edge of Marvel Canyon. It fully lived up to its name. It was a gorgeous jaw-dropping sight. Of course, it was not the Grand Canyon, but it was still vast and awe-inspiring and beautiful on a somewhat smaller scale.
The sides of the rock walls and the boulders scattered throughout were covered with streaks of gray and brown and rust and moss-green. The Canyon itself was the size of thirty football fields. And there were some very peculiar rock formations on one side, with a large flat landing beneath them and fences, ladders, and platforms here and there.
“Wow. Do people ever hike down there?” Beryl wondered.
“Perhaps they do. But not until recently. Until ten years ago, this canyon was filled with water. It was Marvel Canyon Lake, one of the most popular resort attractions in the state outside of the beaches and amusement parks. See those grooves and swirls over there? The water would spill over it and provide a natural waterslide. It was a huge hit with families. They called it Nature’s Waterpark. Nothing like it in the whole Continental U.S.
“And across the canyon, they would rent houseboats, and that was another big draw. Food trucks. Camping sites. I’d say about two-thirds of the Moles in this town made a living one way or the other by servicing tourists who came for the lake attractions. It was enough of a going concern that they built two train lines through this town, one for freight and one to bring in the tourists.”
“But . . . but . . .” Beryl stammered.
“Where is the lake? Hmm. Well, Marvel Canyon, being in the center of the state, was normally protected from the wrath of yearly hurricane devastations. Normally. But then came a day that was far from normal, the worst hurricane in the history of this town.”
“Which one was that? Lucinda asked. “Was that Edna?”
“Indeed, it was Edna. I always thought it ought to have a fiercer name, befitting its destruction. The river feeding water into the lake was completely dammed up. Many areas upstream were flooded. And the lake was soon drained out and became a canyon once again, much to the detriment of this community. Hundreds of jobs were lost overnight. Perhaps even thousands.
“At first, it seemed to have so little to do with us. Most of the Earthborn had followed your father's lead and become quite comfortably independent. But then, the Moles started to move out, and I could feel the full energy of this place starting to wane, and I had to realize that the Moles, The Many, have their part to play in the life of this town, even though they are not bound to it in the same way that we are.
“The town is withering away, and it needs a fresh injection of energy, youth, and creativity. Here too, Oberon hoped you would have a role to play.
“The local authorities tried a dozen different ways to remove the blockages. Most of them involved dynamite. But they worked with the federal agency for months and finally concluded that there was no environmentally safe way for it to be done without destroying the attraction t
hat they were trying to save.”
“Okay, please stop right there. This is hopeless. And that’s my professional opinion as a realtor. This town is dying. And now,I’m not even certain about how we could possibly lure anyone into buying the house.”
“I suppose I should find that comforting.” Gwynifer grimaced.
“Even if the house isn’t worth much, there’s still that two a half million each,” Mosh reminded her. “But that’s only if we stay.”
“Which is out of the question. I’m sorry, Gwynifer. It is absolutely not going to happen. If this town is going to be resurrected, it’s going to have to be by people who already live here and have a commitment to the place. Not us. It’s just unthinkable.”
“I’m afraid she’s right,” Mosh agreed. “I wish we could be more helpful, but the terms of the will are insane. Oh, all this is giving me a headache. Although that’s probably just caffeine withdrawal. I can’t believe that there’s no decent café in this town.”
“Me too. I’d kill for a flat white right about now. Geez. That’s it. That’s it! The only way to make the house worth something is to turn it into an income-producing property. A café. The only place in town people can relax over a great cop of joe. If we get it up and running, it’s going to make it a very attractive property. And I saw a store right across the street, so the neighborhood must be zoned for commercial enterprises.”
“You want to turn Oberon Shimmer’s home into a coffeehouse?”
“Yes, and then, you know what? Maybe we all go ahead and establish a legal residence here. At that address. And we make every effort to make it look as if we’re living here. But I’ll actually be back in L.A. and Mosh will be all around the world doing her thing. And Beryl can actually be living here and help us keep up the appearance of being here.”
Lucinda could see that Beryl was about to protest. “It would be in your best interest. You lose everything if we can’t prove that Mosh and I are living here. So, maybe we get a mannequin and stick a pink wig on it. And you could put it in this window one day, and that window the other day. So that people would see it and think that Mosh is living here.
“And maybe I could buy a car and you could move it every day so that people think I’m using it. And then I could visit like one weekend a month to put in an appearance around town. Maybe Mosh could do the same once in a while. But we really need to fix the café up nicely. It’s going to need some serious rehab.”
“Oh, yeah. I love it when a café is really nicely decorated and cozy. And of course, we need a great selection of drinks,” Mosh gushed.
“And a little bakery. There’s some serious profit in the snacks.”
Beryl could see that Gwynifer was getting more and more worked up and gently hooked her arm and pulled her away from the others.
“Yes, it’s preposterous,” Beryl said. “Especially the mannequin part. But fixing up the café will take a little while. Long enough to try and change their minds.”
Gwynifer drew in a long, deep breath, as if she were telling herself to count to ten. Then she nodded at Beryl. At least the two of them were on the same page. They stepped back toward the other two.
Lucinda was still plotting away. “Okay, so this is what I’ll do. I’m going to call my company and tell them to give me a few more remote sales to work on, enough to last for a month. They won’t like it. In fact, they’ll hate it. But I’m their star realtor so I really get to call the shots. And I’ll have time to supervise the renovation of the entire house, get it in shape for sale, and get the café up and running. How does that sound?”
Gwynifer did her best to smile. “A coffeehouse. Excellent idea. Just what this town needs. And there is a man in town who does excellent carpentry and renovation work, Emerson Briscoe. He was your father’s friend for over thirty years.”
“Wow. He sounds old,” Lucinda noted. “Like someone who definitely won’t be able to handle the rigors of a renovation.”
Gwynifer cocked her head. “I believe it was Emerson who gave your father the idea of having children raised in the Mole world. Wouldn’t you like to meet him?”
*****
Oberon had been eighty-two years old at the time of his death. Beryl envisioned that his close friend of thirty years might be a decade or two younger. What she and the other Shimmer sisters did not anticipate was that Oberon’s old buddy was going to be a broad-shouldered hazel-eyed carpenter in his mid-thirties who was hard at work putting the finishing touches on a gorgeous handmade bookshelf.
He stood in front of a small cozy cottage with solar panels and a large woodshed behind it. He stopped his work and watched as Gwynifer and the Shimmer sisters approached.
“Very nice job,” Gwyneth commented. “It looks as if it is almost finished.”
“It is,” the young man said, locking eyes with Beryl. “And not a moment too soon. You found her.”
“Yes, she has been found,” Gwynifer said. “And the others as well. They are all here. Beryl, Lucinda, and Mosh, this is Emerson Briscoe. Emerson, these girls have had the extraordinary idea of turning the bottom floor of their family home into a coffeehouse, and we are here to see if you are available to take care of the renovations.”
“Not only a coffeehouse,” Lucinda chimed in. “A top-to-bottom renovation so that when we’re ready to sell, the new owner will be able to have a top-notch private residence and a business.”
“That’s actually a pretty cool idea. It won’t take long to get the café up and running, even if improvements on the top half of the house take a little longer.”
“Fantastic. We need you to come over ASAP to look at everything that needs to be worked on and to get your bid.”
“Hmm. I can actually come over first thing in the morning. But I already know everything that needs to be worked on. I know every corner of your house inside and out. As for bids, most of the contractors left town after the lake got dammed up. And those who are left, well, they’re a little squeamish about working with . . .”
“They know. They know!” Gwynifer said impatiently.
“Witches. There’s a lot of folks in town who will not work with witches, I’m very sorry to say. But I have a feeling that you all just might be able to turn that around. At least Oberon hoped so.”
Lucinda examined the young man, puzzled. “Gwynifer said that you and our father were friends for thirty years. That doesn't make any sense. You can't be more than what, thirty-five?”
“Thirty-six.”
“And he was in his eighties. So, what was up with that?”
“It was a peculiar friendship, for sure. And it may be the first friendship I ever had. I was almost six, and I was a bit of a rock hound. Collected tons and tons of useless rocks, but it felt like a million-dollar collection to me.
“So, there's another canyon around here, nowhere near as big as the Lake Canyon, but pretty darn steep, and my grandmother had stood me on the edge and pointed out the layers of rock and how the colors kept changing all the way to the bottom. I didn't even have to ask whether I could go down and get some of those irresistible rocks. That would have been a definite no.
“One day, I told my grandmother that I was going to the playground, and she said that she would pick me up in an hour and a half, which sounded like plenty of time for me to run to the small canyon, get to the bottom, find all the rocks I wanted, and get back to the playground. Even if this plan had gone smoothly, this would have taken about four hours.
“Of course, I took a bad tumble and broke my leg. There was no one around. I couldn’t move. I was terrified. No food. No water. Wedged under a rock. Losing blood. And I was out of sight of anyone standing at the top rim. So far down, my screams were completely drowned out. Just inches away from becoming a very sad story on the six o’clock news.
“Then Oberon just appeared out of nowhere. He lifted the boulder off me. He didn’t push it. He lifted it. Then he took away the pain. Gone. Broken leg unbroken. And he picked me up with one hand, as if I
was the runt kitten in the litter, and carried me to the top. Told me to skedaddle.
“I had heard rumors about the witches and wizards in town. Nothing good. And while I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, I knew that my life had just been saved by this man, this wizard.
“And I knew where he lived, so the next weekend, when my grandmother made her wonderful cranberry walnut oatmeal cookies, I carefully wrapped up two of them and made my way to Oberon’s door with my little offering of gratitude.”
The thought of it made Beryl smile. It must have pretty adorable.
“Oberon was so irritated by my coming to his house . . . told me that no thanks were necessary. But a six-year-old can be pretty single-minded. I wasn't going to leave until he ate and enjoyed those cookies.
“He started wolfing them down just to get rid of me. And he was surprised that he enjoyed them so much. I was delighted and promised to bring him more the following weekend. That was the last thing he wanted to hear.
“In an effort to get rid of me, he said, ‘The cookies are delicious and roughly equivalent to the value of your life. So, your debt is paid in full and there will be no further need for you to come here ever again.’
“Mean sarcasm is completely wasted a six-year-old. I was back the next weekend with three cookies. And that was how our friendship began.”
Beryl could not help but be aware that while he addressed the entire group for his story, his eyes kept returning to her.
“Well, let us be on our way, “Gwynifer said. “We’ll see you in the morning, young man.”
“Will do. And I’ll bring the bookcase with me.”
“Oh. Is that for Gwynifer? It’s beautiful,” Beryl exclaimed.
Emerson ducked his head, slightly embarrassed. “It’s actually for you.”
“What!” Beryl stammered.
“You’re inheriting all of your father’s books. His grimoire. His spells. His herbal lore. I told Emerson to start building a shelf as soon as I knew you were coming,” Gwynifer said.
“Beryl is getting all of his books?” Lucinda said. “Don’t Mosh and I get anything?”