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Witchy Wanderings

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章 1: Episode 1: Cold Books

I shivered at the checkout counter wishing the store owner would fix the heater. It had been broken for two weeks, but anytime I brought it up I would get the same annoyed look and be told, in the shrillest of tones, to 'bring my jacket' or 'use my fat'. Just because I wasn't a size '0' didn't mean I was fat. I had muscle and meat on my bones, not just wrinkled skin like that old hag.

She also had a few choice words when it came to my choice in music for the store, but she usually called ahead, so I quickly changed my "Devil's Drivel" to something gospel. Once she left, I'd rock out again.

I tried to warm my pale, shaking hands in time to the Black Veil Brides, but I wasn't having much luck warming up.

'I don't know why Mrs. Hartford insists on being so cheap. She owns a few hotels and restaurants. She has more than enough to fix this small bookstore. Yet, all she wants to do is bitch any time she sees my outfits or lecture me about God.'

“You dress too risky and ungodly,” her gravelly voice echoed in my mind.

'I'm sorry, I like band shirts and skinny jeans and I wasn’t gonna give that up for some boomer. Plus, I have boobs and an ass, not like that’s easy to hide…'

Though, it didn’t matter what I wore. If it wasn’t unflattering ankle skirts with a long sleeve blouse, she always thinks you're asking for it. I even wore sweats to work once and got yelled at because “I look homeless” and that was “worse than what I normally wear”.

I got so fed up with her that I got rid of my bangs and cut my hair into a pixie cut, exposing all my piercings. The blue dye job was the cherry on top. The anger on her face was worth it.

Though, to keep my job, I had to dye it back to brown and now “I must have long, natural colored hair and take out any and all piercings” according to the new dress code. It was gonna take months before the hair part was going to be a reality. At least the piercings were old, so they weren’t going to close up overnight, but my ears and eyebrow felt so naked.

'Eh, still worth it.'

Oh, and don't even get me started on her bible-thumping lectures and constant church invites. It got so annoying; I actually went this past weekend. I had hoped it would earn me enough brownie points to get some heat in the store. Nope. All it did was waste four hours of my weekend with lectures about tithes.

"Tithe is not tied to your income level." "Plant the seed for more income." "Money is the Devil in your pocket. Cleanse yourself."

It was a truly dumbfounding experience. I don't know why anyone would listen to those greedy pastors. The last time I checked money was not the Word of God. In fact, Jesus says to share with everyone and prefers to be penniless. Shouldn't the church follow the example of giving instead of taking?

I sighed; all these thoughts made me miss my old church. When I was younger my parents took me to church all the time. I was in choir, bell choir, an acolyte, bible study, vacation bible school, took communion, and went through baptism and confirmation. I had debated on becoming a sister at one point, or a pastor; if they would allow it.

I loved the community and the makeshift family I had there, but I started to lose my faith when my friend Kris came out as Gay. They attacked him and shunned him. They even threatened his family and mine when I refused to stop hanging out with them.

Shortly thereafter, my parents switched churches, but the next one was no better. They were greedy. The one after that was all about "you're going to hell if you don't do XYZ".

My dad kinda gave up on church and exchanged it for community service at the food bank. My mom picked up some new hobbies. We never told my grandparents. As far as they know we go to church every Sunday.

What we do instead is go out for a quiet brunch while everyone is out. The Sunday I went to church with Mrs. Hartford was the same Sunday my parents were out of town, so I just lost time alone; not time with my parents.

I shivered again.

'I really need a coffee break to warm up. Did I even have lunch today?'

My friend Kris did own the cafe down the street, and I didn't mind spending my money there. I looked around the store to make sure no one was browsing and checked the restrooms. Once I was in the clear, I grabbed my bag and the keys to lock up, but in my haste, I caught a box of mixed books.

The new additions to the store came tumbling down in a great spectacle. I sighed, frustrated with myself for my carelessness, and at Mrs. Hartford for continuously buying second-hand and new books that we had no room for. She would only ever buy religious romance, bibles, or other religious based books. Though she had relented and added fiction to the collection, so we could make ends meet.

Setting down my bag and keys on the checkout counter, I got to work cleaning up my mess. Normally, I'd organize them as I cleaned to make the work easier when I returned, but my growling stomach reminded me I hadn't eaten at all today. I started just tossing the books in the box, but stopped when I noticed two rather odd purchases for Mrs. Hartford.

One book was all black, with no title, no author and had an oddly designed gold cross. The top of the cross wasn't a line. It was oval in shape. This was a clasped book with a broken lock. It didn't strike me as a normal bible and probably would need some research on my end to price it correctly.

'Under my counter it goes.'

The other odd book had the Virgin Mary on the cover but depicted her in a way I had never seen. It had her on the cover three times. Once was her as a young girl, the second time was her as a mother holding a baby, and the final time was her as an old woman holding a cane. Beneath the three images were three moons that almost looked like one symbol. It was a Waxing Moon, a Full Moon, and a Waning Moon. Again, there was no title and no author. I put that one under my counter beside the odd bible and finished cleaning up the mess.

Grabbing my stuff once more and setting the time on our closed sign, I locked it up for a well-deserved lunch. I would be back in an hour or two and I could guarantee the store would still be dead when I reopened. No lines and no lost business here. After all, people were only downtown during the touristy summertime. During the fall and winter, you were lucky to see one person a week.

The frigid wind raced down my back causing me to erupt in goosebumps. A hot soup and a rich Caramel Macchiato coffee were calling my name as I raced down the empty street.

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章 2: Episode 2: Viking Food

The soft light and cozy atmosphere of the tiny café warmed my spirit the moment I walked inside. The sweet, decedent scent of baked goods and roasting coffee made my mouth water in anticipation. I made a beeline for the order counter and mused over all my options with my deep green eyes.

I could have the Chicken Club, but a sandwich wasn't exactly a warm dish. There's the tried-and-true Broccoli Cheese, but I just wasn't in the mood for that much cheese.

'Oh, what's this?'

"Try our new Tomato Basil. A thick rich soup made from vine ripened tomatoes, fresh garlic and basil, and topped with toasted Italian croutons and shredded sharp cheddar."

'I think I just found a winner.'

I quickly placed my order with one of the teenage new hires for the Tomato Basil soup and a large Caramel Macchiato. As soon as I got my order number to place on the table, I headed over to the seating area. There were so many inviting couches that had a table in front of it. As I strolled over to a small corner booth, I admired the artwork on the walls.

This cafe loved to represent local artists, but some of the artists preferred to remain anonymous; only collecting the money for their work from the owners and never revealing who they are to the patrons who purchased it. Some pieces were abstract, and some were highly realistic, but all of them had a calming mystical aura about them. As I settled into my seat, Kris emerged from the back.

'Someone must have let him know I stopped by. He never can resist a quick chat with me.'

It always amused me how Viking-like he looked. He had the outdoors build, the long blond, braided hair with a matching beaded beard, but he also had tribal looking tattoos. He told me once that they were something called runes and held different meanings. I hadn’t a clue what meaning those were, but they felt safe and comforting to look at. To top it off, he always wore this odd-looking hammer necklace and had a hobby of making shields and swords. A great asset when the comic-cons came to town and it was a stark contrast to our internet-loving, hipster crowds.

I smiled and called out to Kris happily. As I stood to greet him, he stormed over, embracing me in a bear hug.

"Good day, warrior, Angel."

"Good afternoon to you too. I see you've added a few things to the menu," I greeted as we ended our embrace.

Kris laughed a smile reaching his icy blue eyes, "You can thank Joshua’s obsession with the latest trend of cooking videos. He was worried it wasn’t good enough to serve, but I insisted we add his Tomato Basil to the menu and let the sales decide. Spoiler, our sales have been through the roof due to the recent cold front."

"He should have more confidence in himself, but I’m glad you encourage him. I think it's a wonderful addition. I even ordered it," I proudly declared, making Kris grin even wider.

"Just wait until you find that special someone. You'll do just about anything to see them smile. Anyways, are you still coming with us to his parents' restaurant tonight?" Kris inquired as we sat down on the plump couches.

"Are you kidding me? I would never miss authentic Chinese food. If I do, it's code for ‘I'm being kidnapped’ or ‘I need a doctor’," I joked, excited for the evening.

"I don't know how you can eat so much and stay healthy. I have to work out to keep my warrior body," Kris shook his head.

"Eh, genetics and I don't eat often enough. Not healthy in the long run, but I don't do it on purpose. I just kinda forgot," I shrugged.

"Well, let me get you a Cinnamon Roll to add to your meal. Don't want you getting too skinny," Kris stated, standing up.

"Kris, I haven't had any relapses of anorexia since high school. I've been doing really good for almost ten years," I sighed. His icy eyes softened, but his muscles remained tense.

'He can’t forget it, can he? I wish he would. I wish everyone would stop reminding me about it. I’ve been doing so well… I can’t really blame him though. It was a rough year…'

Memories of my junior year played in my mind. The beeping machines, everyone crying, and my organs slowly shutting down. I had survived and gotten help. I could even joke about eating now, but it was so bad.

"I know it was a while ago, but I still worry about you. You know you're like a sister to me," Kris softly explained. I nodded in agreement. I knew he wasn't saying it to be mean, but memories can still sting. Kris left for the kitchen as my order arrived at the little table.

'They must have just finished a batch of soup when I ordered, and the Macchiato never takes long to make.'

I took a spoonful of the soup and blew on it, making the savory aroma drift around my face. It smelled slightly spicy and was full of herbs. When the thick sauce-like soup touched my tongue, I could almost envision the beautiful garden it came from. The crunch of the crouton and the soft melted cheese danced along my taste buds. The food here was always a magical experience.

Josh could win anyone over with his cooking. I knew the recipes, but I could never make it quite like him.

'One day I'll learn his magical cooking secret.'

Kris returned to my table with the sinful Cinnamon Roll. While Josh may have been the cook, Kris was the star baker. It was so hard to resist his light, sweet, fruit-stuffed Cinnamon Rolls. His apple stuffed Cinnamon Roll was, by far, my favorite and it was the exact flavor he placed in front of me. I thanked him for his generosity, and he patted me on the head in a brotherly way.

Even though I hadn't finished my soup, I couldn't resist taking a bite of the Cinnamon Roll. The warm icing flooded my mouth as the soft bread and gooey, baked apple tumbled onto my tongue. Notes of cinnamon and clove danced along my pallet alongside the buttery sugar from the apples.

'Pure bliss.'

I spent a good hour enjoying the food and the warmth of the coffee before ordering a second coffee to go. I still had the rest of my shift to complete and two rather odd books to investigate.

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