Page 3 of Cooking Up a Demon
“I’ve been called worse.” The joke falls flat between us. I close the door and flip the lock. Probably not the brightest move with a total stranger, but she is skinny and I can probably take her. If I fight dirty. And don’t have to out-run her. “So, what are you looking for?”
“Um, some local history books. I have a thing for it.” Clearly not the whole story, but I’m not going to pry. I sneeze and blow my nose on a tissue from the pack I have in my pocket.
“I think they’re in the back. I haven’t done much more than glance back there.” The woman tucks her hands in her pockets and heads toward the back of the store with a muttered thanks.
“Are you going to keep the bookstore running?” The woman calls up to me. She’s in the back corner behind a shelving unit.
“That’s the plan.” I shout back, picking up the stack of books I knocked over. “I think so, anyway.”
Honestly, I probably don’t have any business running a bookstore. Or a shop of any kind. I am good at customer service, but I have zero knowledge or ability for the rest of it.
“You should,” the woman says, coming back with a book in hand. “It’s kind of a mess in here right now, but the town supports our shops. I get it if you don’t, can’t live someone else’s dream, you know?”
She hands me the book and blows a bubble with her gum and snaps it. “Plus, there ain’t shit to do around here most of the time. Ms. May kept a lot of us in books.”
“It’s a lot, and I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.” I admit. I write down the book title and price on a sticky note beside the old register and stab it on the memo spike. Something I haven’t seen used since I was a kid in elementary school.
“Eh, you are or you aren’t. Maybe try doing it your way and see what happens.” She hands me the cash for her book, and I put it in the register. “Would love to see some new life around here.”
“Thanks… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Delia,” she says as she takes her book from me. “Welcome to Ghostlight Falls…”
“Bea,” I fill in for her. “Thanks. For the welcome and the pep talk.”
“No problem. Just don’t tell anyone. Mostly because they won’t believe you. I’m not known for my pep.”
And with that, Delia leaves me alone. My mind racing with possibilities and $20 in the cash drawer.
Chapter Three
Three
Rain. Again.
I knew the PNW was rainy. Of course I knew. But fuck, I am tired of the rain. And the grey. And the constant humidity frizzing my hair.
I’m determined to have a good day. My conversation with Delia motivated me, and I am going to turn the dreary old store into a place I love. First up, is moving all of the shelves away from the walls so I can scrub and paint them.
Which means removing all of the books from the shelves. Hundreds and hundreds of books. Sigh.
Instead of thinking about the task ahead, I turn the lock behind me and carry my bags to the counter. My little haul is going to bring me happiness. I am sure of it.
I pull the hot plate out of the bag and unpack it before plugging it in. Next comes the large glass pot wrapped in paper. I sit it on the hot plate and fill it with distilled water as the recipe states.
The cutting board and knife came from home. I sit them on the counter and get to work, occasionally checking the book tomake sure I am getting it right. Two apples, three oranges, and a lime all cut into slices. Fresh bay leaves and mint. I carefully pull the petals off a single yellow rose before finding a large mason jar to put the rest of the bouquet in. A sprig of rosemary and let simmer.
I turn on the hot plate and wait for the happiness to infuse the store. I am still cleaning up the supplies when the pot begins to spew plumes of thick smoke.
“Motherfucker!” I scream at the billowing smoke. “Not again!”
“Human, there are consequences for summoning me.” The large stone grey demon is back, and looks just as annoyed as the first time.
“I was making a simmer pot!” I yell at him, throwing my hands in the air. “I was not summoning anything! I couldn’t if I tried.”
“My presence here suggests otherwise.” The demon crosses to the counter to look at the open book. He reads the page and throws back his head and laughs.
“It’s not funny!” I stomp my foot. Nothing about this is funny. In fact, it should be impossible. I’ve seen some strange and questionable things, but demons just don’t exist.
