Page 2 of Bewitched By the Werewolf
Being sheriff in Snowberry is more work than being sheriff in a human town. Snowberry is filled with non-humans trying to live their lives just like everyone else. We just have different needs and requirements than a human town would. Like concealing our town from google. Thankfully we have people like my sister, Ginger, who is a wiz at computers to make sure Snowberry doesn’t show up on any map, satellite, website, or social media posting. Which is the way we like it.
More than ninety percent of the population of Snowberry is non-human and the humans that do live here all mostly know what we are, a good chunk of them married or related to non-humans. There are a few that have no clue they’re living in a town filled with shifters, fairies, nymphs and merefolk, among other species. Which is why all non-humans without shifting abilities use their magic to wear a glamour at all times, just in case. We do get the occasional tourist, usually someone who got lost and found us by mistake. As long as they don’t see anything they’re not supposed to, we let them rent a room at the motel and be on their merry way.
Taking care of such lost humans and making sure new and visiting non-humans know our rules, is part of my job description. Which is why today I’m patrolling town and checking in with all the local businesses to make sure everything is running smoothly.
In such a small town filled with individuals who are concerned with everyone’s comings and goings, there tend to be a few chatty Kathy’s. I’m still not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing yet, even though I’ve lived here my entire life, minus time spent away for school. It does make finding out about new arrivals a lot easier though. Which is why I’m heading toDottie’s Drive-In Dinerfor lunch. I myself don’t care much for talking but I listen just fine, and if Dottie has anything to say that might be important, I’ll hear it. She always has something to say as partof the double D’s in town. Also known and Dottie and Donna, the two gossip queens of Snowberry. If there’s anything worth knowing, or even not knowing, they know it.
Taking the long way around, I leave my truck parked at Town Hall where my office and the mayor’s office are and walk through the town square. I’ll start at the farthest shop from my office and work my way back. It’s the best use of time and ensures I don’t get corralled by anyone while trying to make my way back to my office and get sucked into rescuing another cat from a tree. Firstly, cats don’t particularly like shifters since we’re more canine in nature, and secondly, don’t people realize it’s a fucking cat? It can get down on its own just as easily as it got up there.
I check in with Shanna atAnother Man’s Junkand she shows me her new acquisition of antique doorknobs she found in Casper Wyoming. I nearly escape before she starts to show me her bobble head collection and make my way toCloset Carousel.I chat with Larken for a few and fend off yet another offer to revamp my wardrobe. I’m happy with jeans and t-shirts, and the occasional flannel jacket. I’m sheriff of a small town in the middle of nowhere, I don’t need a three-piece suit and cufflinks, I’ll never wear them. What I could use is a new pair of boots.
After my already exhausting morning of forcing myself to converse with townsfolk, I decide I need a nice strong coffee before venturing intoDottie’s.The Ugly Mugis right across the street fromDottie’sand I cross and enter the eclectic coffee shop before Dottie spots me and pulls me in before I’m prepared.
Colorful mugs hang on the wall, each one different from the next. The owner, a fairy named Arthur, was a world traveler for many years before he settled here in Snowberry. He took his love of collecting strange and unique coffee mugs and turned it intoThe Ugly Mug, a coffee shop where you choose the mug, and latelynotthe coffee inside. Tobias, another fairy who hasbeen working at the shop for the last fifteen years at least, has taken it upon himself to tell you what coffee you want rather than the other way around. Most residents love his unique skill of knowing what coffee you need rather than want. I myself find it tiresome and irritating.
The bell jingles over head as I enter and luckily there’s only one person in line ahead of me, Tobias smiles behind the counter as he regales the customer with her perfect coffee order based on the cup she chose and her aura. A special skill only to the fairies who are able to see a person’s emotions in colors around them like an aura. I imagine mine’s always grey, or red. Not that I can’t be happy, I can. I just have too many things to deal with being sheriff and beta to my brother the mayor, to be giddy all the time.
Tobias finishes ringing up the female ahead of me and even though I can sense his internal sigh at seeing me, he still greets me with the same smile he does everyone else, his gossamer lavender wings resting calmly against his back. Although I know he’s wearing a glamour incase a human enters, as a non-human I’m able to see him as he truly is. Lavender skin, pointed ears, long white hair and gossamer wings.
“Afternoon Ryder. Same as always, I assume?”
I give him a terse nod, unhooking my black travel mug from my utility belt and hand it to him to fill. Black coffee, no cream, no sugar, no hazelnut or vanilla or any of the other ridiculous things people add to their coffee. Tobias takes the plain boring—but useful—travel mug and rings me up for my basic A.F. coffee, as Ginger would put it.
“Are you ever going to let me choose your coffee for you?” Tobias asks.
“Nope.”
“Why not? You might enjoy it.” Tobias raises an eyebrow at me, and I stare back at him flat faced as I always do every time hetries to convince me to order something other than black coffee. “Glare at me all you want, but it’s true. If you just try something new maybe you’ll smile more, and possibly even laugh. Could be good for you.”
I shrug and hand him exact change for the coffee. “I smile. When I feel like it.”
“And when would that be? When the roads get snowed in and no one can leave their houses?”
The corner of my mouth twitches. That does sound like heaven. If no one can leave their house, then no one can cause problems and then I don’t have to fix them. I do love a good snow day.
“I’ll wait over here for my coffee.” I circle the colorful and mismatched tile counter and wait at the pick-up station for my black metal travel mug that stands out like the runt of a litter in this explosion of color and patterns.
“Black coffee plain,” Tobias calls out in a bored tone to the barista behind him helping make the drinks.
He doesn’t need to call out my order, but he likes pestering me as much as he can when it comes to my lack luster coffee order. The female barista dutifully fills my travel mug, screwing the lid back in place and setting it on the pick-up counter.
“Have a nice day,” she says, lacking the snark Tobias gives me.
“Thank you.”
I take my mug and stroll out of the shop, ignoring Tobias’s shaking head and sigh. Perhaps I’ll let him pick my order for me once, on his birthday. I imagine the horrendous concoction he would think up and decide, maybe not.
Taking a seat at one of the outdoor folding table and chairs I sip at my coffee until it’s at least halfway gone. I may order simple coffee, butThe Ugly Mughas the best beans and evenwithout all the accompaniments, the hot liquid has plenty of flavor.
When it’s settled in my chest and calmed my mind, I figure I’ve fortified myself enough to venture toDottie’s. Not to mention, my stomach is starting to growl at me for not feeding it anything but coffee. Strolling across the street I approachDottie’s Drive-In Diner,the most popular restaurant in town. It’s one of two so there’s not much choice but it’s still usually busier thanMorning Star Cafewhich is only open for breakfast and lunch.
The colorful pastel pink and mint green ofDottie’sushers me in under the pink glowing neon sign. Cars are parked at the drive-up ordering, pink plastic trays hooked to their doors filled with classic burgers and shakes, club sandwiches and crispy French fries.Dottie’sis true to the retro American drive-ins from the fifties, right down to the glittery vinyl booths, a juke box in the corner, and servers on roller skates.
I opt for a seat at the bar and plop down on a mint green stool. Becca, a fairy of all pink and glitter and the personality to match, rolls by on her skates and hands me a menu.
“Here you go sheriff. I’ll be right with ya!”
It’s lunch time so the place is busy, which is fine by me. Means Dottie might be too busy to talk my ear off and will just give me the cliff notes version. Straight to the point and most important, leaving out any of the dating gossip I could care less about.
