Page 52 of Bewicched

“There’s that.” She returned the notebook to her pocket and checked her watch. “Okay. I need to get back at it. Thank you for seeing me and for the muffin. I feel better.”

“Good. I’m going to finish sealing my tentacle and then get started on another. Hey,” I said, standing back up, “come look at my beautiful deck in progress.”

When I walked her out, Declan had another third of the decking complete. “How are you doing this so fast?”

He stood, wiping his sweaty brow. “It’s all framed out. All I’m doing at this point is nailing down planks.” He turned and pointed to the edge. “I still need to do the rest of the cutouts for the tentacles. That takes longer. So do the railings.” He scratched his beard. “I’m getting there, though.”

“It looks great already,” Hernández said. “I can’t wait to see it with the tentacles attached.”

“Soon! I want to get them all done first so they can go up at once.” Hopefully, I’d freak out a couple of the fishing boats.

23

The Dreaded Three Naming

“Is it okay if I visit again?” the detective asked.

“You bet.” Huh, a mundane friend. Well, she already knew a lot of what I could do, even if the wicche part was still a secret. I pointed to the end of the deck. “You can go that way. Save yourself from walking back through the gallery and the construction obstacle course. In fact, I’ll walk with you. Our conversation made me realize I need a garden over here.” We stepped off the dock and turned right, following the side of the cannery toward the road.

There was a dirt path by the building and then a swath of dirt patches, sand, and tufts of grass maybe ten feet wide, running from the road, alongside the cannery, and ending at the ocean. I was pretty sure the area past that was over my property line. It had tall grass, ice plants, and rocks along the water’s edge.

“What do you think? What should I do with this space?”

The detective scanned left and right before staring at the huge wall itself. “I guess it depends on if you’re painting a mural here.”

A mural? How had I not thought of that? I moved back to take in the whole wall in context with the rest of its surroundings. “Hell yes, I’m painting a mural.” I thought about it, saw it. “It’ll be a continuation of the sea monster story. I’ll paint the side to look like the cannery is old and deteriorating, windows broken, boards weather-beaten and rotting. I’ll have tentacles bursting out of the rotting wall, climbing up the side to envelop the whole building.” Yes. That would look amazing and would stop cars. They might even visit the gallery. Which meant I needed to blow some glass sculptures of octopuses for the tourists to buy. Hmm.

“Thank you,” I said, absently patting her shoulder. “I love this idea.”

“In that case, you don’t want pretty flowers and bushes. Maybe some tall decorative grasses. Maybe just some deergrass or reedgrass. There’s one that’s kind of a burnt orange. What’s it called? Uh…sedge! Orange sedge. The great part is decorative grasses are low maintenance, low water. Spray from the ocean would probably be enough for them, and they’d fit in with an old, overgrown feel.”

“Perfect. If you know any florists or growers you’d recommend, let me know.” She was looking better, less haunted. She’d found lighter thoughts to occupy her brain. Trust me, I knew how important those respites were.

“I’ll ask my cousin. He’s a landscaper. He’ll know. I’ll get back to you.” She was drawing a quick sketch in her notebook and then scribbling down ideas.

“Maybe I could just hire your cousin to do the work,” I began.

“Oh, no. You can hire me. I want to do this project.” The gleam in her eye relieved some of the guilt I’d been feeling. Returning the notebook to her pocket, she waved as she headed back to her car.

I knew none of this was my fault. It was illogical, but there was something so—I guess—embarrassing having someone else experience even a portion of my trauma. I felt exposed and I hated it.

When I turned the corner, Declan was leaning against a rail, watching me.

“You taking a break?” Why was he looking at me with such concern?

“Yep.” When I drew close, he asked, “Can I borrow your phone for a minute?”

“My phone?” I reached into my overalls pocket. “Why do you need my—hey!”

Declan grabbed it and slid it into his back pocket.

“What gives, bub?”

Before I had a chance to cause a little mayhem, he seized me around the middle and threw me over his head, right into the ocean. Having werewolf strength, he flung me far. I really only had time to think,What the fu—Well, shit.

With a splash, I dove deep, dolphin kicking along the bottom, startling fishes. As I was swimming back to the piers under my cannery, a certain seal with a tennis ball in his mouth swam alongside me before circling me and bolting ahead.

When I came up for air, I found my mom moving to the railing beside Declan.

---