Page 20 of Bread By the Grim
“Grim, promise me that you won’t lock this closet.”
“Fine,” I grumble, and she takes it as a yes.
“Thank you,” she says with a weak smile. “I’ll make you an early dinner before I go to bed. Take a nap. Maybe it’ll help.”
She kisses me on the cheek and closes the closet door as she leaves. I wait for the sound of the back door closing before I sit up and lock the only twolocks I can manage—the manual one below the knob and the dead bolt.
I cannot control my gremlin if it acts on its own, but I can slow it down. I’ll stop at nothing to keep Phil safe from me.
Chapter 12
Phil
Days pass and Grim remains in his shifted form. I really don’t know what to do for him. You’d think a town like Ghostlight Falls would have more medical resources for cryptids and shifters, but the only cryptid specialist is out of town for the week, and regular doctors don’t know much about conditions surrounding shifting. They refer him to a local witch, thinking a curse might be involved, but Grim’s adamant. This is not a curse. This is just the way he was born.
He refuses to leave his apartment to go to the hospital, afraid he’ll hurt someone. The one doctor I do manage to convince to come by the shop agrees to visit only because he’s a regular and knows Grim personally.
After a thorough examination of Grim, all he can tell us is that Grim is healthy.
“Keep him hydrated until the specialist returns,” is all the instructions he leaves us with.
I consider shutting down the bakery completely until we can figure something out, but it would give me nothing to do during the day when Grim’s avoiding me, so I work and worry and work some more.
After a week of Grim not being around to place grocery orders, I realize I’m running out of things. Some I can get by without, but other things like kitty litter and Fancy Feast will get me shanked in my sleep. Doux is not a fan of being late for a meal, let alone skipping one altogether.
Because I’ve chosen to be a hermit, I have two options: I could take Grim’s truck and drive around until I find the grocery store, or I could shop small. There’s that little pet store called Ruff ‘N Tumble just a block away. All day, people come into the shop, but rarely do I get outside and explore the town around me. I could totally use the short walk. After I close up for the day, I cross the street and head down the block to get some fresh air and hopefully see some adorable animals.
A cute guy with horns smiles at me from the counter as I walk in. “Let me know if you need anything!” he calls as I grab a basket. The place is full of the cutest little animals I’ve never seen. I spend way too much time reading name tags and making noises at fuzzy little creatures in tanks andcages as I make my way around the store to the cat section. In an aisle full of bird feed and wire cages, I come across an adorable free-roaming turtle. Well, I think it’s a turtle. He has horns on each side of his head, and someone has tied a balloon to his body with the word “Arlo” written on it.
When he doesn’t hiss or growl, I take a chance and bend down to scratch his head. “Are you Arlo or is Arlo the type of animal you are?” I ask him. He ignores my questions and presses his head into my hand, insisting I scratch harder. After another few moments of this, he ducks his head and starts to move away from me.
“Well goodbye to you too, Arlo.”
Despite all the unique little fuzzballs they seem to sell, the store has a surprisingly decent selection of supplies for my standard-issue tabby.
I grab several cans of Fancy Feast, a box of litter, and head to the register.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around. You must be new in town,” the man at the counter says as he rings me up.
“Yes, I came in to replace Bernice at Grim’s. My name is Phil.”
He smiles brightly. “It’s so nice to meet you, Phil. I’m Kaz. I own the place. Who’s your kitty friend?”
I can’t help but smile back. “His name is Doux. I found him in a dumpster.”
He laughs. “What an awesome name. Honestly, the best cats are the ones you find in sketchy places.” He bags up everything and hands me my receipt just as something starts to make a noise at his side.
“You’ve got good timing, guys,” he says, looking down at something I can’t see.
I can’t help but be nosey. “What do you have back there?”
“Do you like guinea pigs?” he asks.
I nod as he pulls out a beautiful gray guinea pig with the biggest ears I’ve ever seen. They’re pointy and high, like a dog’s. It has the beautiful long shiny hair of a regular guinea pig, but instead of the usual hidden nub of a tail, it has the longer tail of a dog. This little gray guy’s tail starts thumping happily as he holds it up to me. “Wanna hold one?”
“Sure.” I laugh. I take the guinea pig from him and hold it close to my chest. Its tail thumps againstmy body as I cradle it close. “He’s so adorable. I’ve never seen one with features like this one…what is he?”
“I can’t pronounce his scientific name, but locals where he comes from call him a lupig. I guess they thought they looked a little wolf-like.”
