And Ruin Followed Behind Her

Chapter 9-3

IN THE CRAMPED CORRIDORS behind the storefront, boxes were stacked haphazardly along every surface. Uneven wooden shelves held boxes of teas, rare stones, cartons of “magic” mirrors, and porcelain dolls. The floors were littered with stamped crates from Morocco, Burma, Mongolia, and a dozen other exotic places I had only read about in books, places I longed to visit one day.

Beyond the crates laid a small cot with a ruffled pillow and disheveled blanket. It looked recently slept in. That must have been how she got here so early. She lived at the store.

“Be careful not to touch anything,” the old woman said as I snaked my way between the precarious boxes.

“Why? Is it dangerous?”

“Well, yes. I am not very good at stacking things, and these shelves are bound to fall with even the lightest touch. I wouldn’t want you breaking your foot...or, more importantly, my merchandise.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” I scoffed.

“Do you know how hard it is to find a legitimate source of magic mirrors and voodoo dolls? Trust me it’s dreadfully hard.”

“Oh, is that what these are?” I said, chuckling at a straw figure, loosely bound together with a drawstring.

The old woman pushed through the beaded curtain into the main showroom of the store. “Not all of them, of course. The real things are much too expensive for your average person, and they wouldn’t know how to handle them, anyway. Most of this is just designer garbage meant to look good, but I’ve been known to catch the attention of a mage or two in my day, and when they come in, I must be prepared. I can make a year’s wage with the money they spend in one visit.” She gave me a wry look. “A black woman running a tea shop in small-town Colorado? How else am I going to make money?”

I pushed through the beads behind her. “You realize what you’re saying is crazy, right? I mean, there’s no such thing as magic.”

The old woman walked behind her register and picked up a tea pot. I realized then that there was no burner or hot plate behind the register, and yet the tea pot in the old woman’s hand steamed and smoked. “Oh, my dear, how naïve you are.”

“How are you doing that?” I asked as she poured one cup of tea for me and another for her.

“Magic, of course.” She looked me up and down. “You would know that if you read the book I gave you.”

I set the book on the counter, worried that its weight would crack the glass case filled with assorted porcelain tea sets. “You mean this? Yeah, I read some of it. It’s full of stories about fairies, but I never much cared for fantasy.”

“No. Of course not,” the old woman said. “Your degree is in history, is it not?”

“Yes, it is. How do you know that?”

She sipped her tea. “I make it a habit to know everything I can about the magical beings I come across.”

I laughed so hard I snorted. “Now I know you’re crazy, lady. I am not a magical being. I’m just a school teacher from Chandler.”

The old woman handed me tea in a cup. It had two jousting knights painted on it. “One who can disappear at will.”

I took the cup and a sip of tea. It was delicious. “Not at will.”

“Splitting hairs,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped her tea. “You can disappear in one place and appear in another, is that not correct? In its simplest form?”

“In its simplest form, I suppose that is correct.”

“That makes you a magical creature. Of course, I’ve always known that, since the day I first saw you. We always recognize our own kind.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m magic. There are plenty of logical reasons why a person might disappear at will.”

The old woman leaned back with a smile. “Name one.”

“Well, I don’t have an example off hand, but it’s not magic, which means this book is gibberish. It doesn’t say anything of value. It’s just a bunch of tall tales and folk stories.”

“Of course, it does. As a student of history, I thought you would appreciate the history of your people.”

I snorted again. “My people? So now you’re saying that I’m not only a magical creature, but a fairy?”

“A pixie, actually. Fairies are much smaller.”

“Of course,” I said, snidely. “How callus of me to insult such a noble race.”

“Well, you wouldn’t call a black person a Caucasian, or a horse a goat, would you? This is no different.”

“Okay. The next time I see a pixie, I’ll be sure to apologize to them.”

The old woman placed her tea down and smiled at me. She rose from her stool and unwrapped the shawl around her shoulders. “Could you be a dear and lock the front door for me, and make sure that the window is closed?”

I furrowed my brow. “Are you going to murder me?”

“No, dear. If I wanted you dead, then I would have told those white fellows yesterday that you were in my shop.”

I clicked the dead bolt on the front door then drew the shades for the windows, until all that remained was the faint glow of the candles. “Okay. It’s done.”

“And blow out the candles, my dear, if you please,” she said.

“You’re sure you don’t want to murder me?” I asked, blowing out the first candle of many.

“I never said I didn’t want to,” the old woman said sweetly. “I just said I wouldn’t.”

“Splitting hairs,” I replied with a smile.

I walked around and blew out a dozen or so candles throughout the shop. The smell of burnt wick filled my nostrils and calmed my spirit. I always enjoyed fire and especially the smoky smell left behind after a candle went out.

Before long, I stood in near complete darkness. The old woman hadn’t moved from behind the register as I worked, except to follow my progress with the slightest tilt of her head.

“Are you ready?” she asked me.

“I don’t know,” I replied, hesitantly. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

The old woman took one deep breath, then another. A faint, golden glow emanated from behind the register. Two wings grew out of the old woman’s back and filled the room with bright, blue light. She lifted into the air and floated there, before landing delicately on the counter.

“My name is Elka, of the forest people, one in a long line of pixies descended from the last of our kind, Zabina, Akta, and Rasmus. And I await your apology.”

That’s when the room started spinning. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I fainted.