Page 13 of Only Human in Strangeville

“Are you here for the séance?”

“The what?” I glanced around, wondering if somehow I’d gotten confused and gone into the wrong store.

“We summon dead authors and ask them about their books once a month. This month we’re summoning Chaucer.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Uh. No, actually I came about a job?”

“Oh?” She narrowed her eyes and peered at me. Squinting, she removed her glasses, cleaned them, and looked at me again. “Ahh, I see. You’re hired.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, stand here.” She gestured to her spot behind the counter.

“Okay?”

Nimbus rooed, and she leaned over the counter.

“Yes, of course. You’re hired, too. Now, have you ever worked a register before?”

“It’s been a few years. Do you want to see my resume?”

“No. You’re the chosen one. I’ll show you the basics now, and if you have any questions, they’ll have to wait until after the séance. Just do the best you can.”

“Of course, Miss…?”

“Clare. Now, what’s the dog’s name?”

“Nimbus.”

“Excellent. Nimbus, you sit here and look adorable. It’ll increase sales.” She pointed to a spot next to the counter. “We’ll get you a bed.”

For all the world acting like he understood, Nimbus sat where she indicated and gave us his fiercest puppy dog eyes. My heart melted into a puddle.

“Perfect.” She turned her attention to me. “We have fifteen minutes. Let’s get started.”

Completely confused, but willing to go with it for now, I let her show me how to work the register and the basics of selling books in her shop.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, the first patron of my employment entered. She was every bit as esoteric as Clare.

“Anita!” Clare came around the counter and held out her arms. They hugged and air kissed, and she took the younger woman’s coat. While Clare had to be in her sixties, Anita was closer to twenty-five. She was a tall, thin Black woman and wore a beautiful gray shawl that someone had skillfully made, and she had the brightest pink hair I’d ever seen.

Clare introduced her to Nimbus, who got a great deal of cooing and kisses, before she waved vaguely in my direction, and led Anita to the back room.

I couldn’t even be offended. Nimbus’ cute little roo roo of greeting totally stole the show.

Before I could process that interaction, an older Asian man came in. Suspenders stretched over his ample belly, holding up linen slacks, and his tweed jacket was a touch threadbare around the cuffs. He doffed his flat cap before bowing to Nimbus and making his jolly way toward the back. And those two were the least strange appearing of the crowd.

Every single one of them made a big deal of Nimbus, greeted me like I’d always been there and headed to the back.

By the end, I just waved and accepted that my job was going to be as odd as anything else about this place. I hadn’t realized the strangeness surrounding Beechworth extended out to Mayday Hills. Still, it wasn’t going to be boring.

After about twenty minutes, one more person walked in. He was tall, portly, wore a long jacket of some really old style, and had a well-manicured white beard.

“Ahh, hello. Is this the Chaucer séance?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Geoff. Nice to meet you.” Oh, he was British. Too old for me, but cultured sounding, and seemed like he had a good sense of humor by his tone of voice.

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