“Well, aren’t
you an interesting creature,” Violet blushed, leaning forward. She pulled her
crystal ball closer and swirled her hands around it. A purple glow emanated
from inside. She raised an eyebrow, “Now, let’s see what the magic ball has to
show us, shall we?”
“Yes, please,” said Em, always interested in what these people had to
say.
“Well, now, it shows you have an interesting family dynamic.”
“To say the least. And don’t we all,” Em laughed out loud but leaned
forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Anything swirling in there about my
current life? Immediate future?”
“You will reconnect with a relative. Soon.”
“Hmmm,” Em said, “Not exactly the news I was looking for. What about
love? Or even hate? Something with feeling?”
Violet furrowed her forehead, and her hands swirled a bit faster. The
pitch of her voice rose as the crystal ball clouded, “Yes, I see hate. A lot of
it. And you are in the center of it. Caught there, unable to escape. And blood.
Loads of it. Everywhere and soon!”
Em rolled her eyes, “Really?” This level of drama wasn’t her jam.
Standing up, she threw another twenty on the table. “Worst reading ever. Buy
yourself a drink, or ten, and loosen up.”
“Be careful. Heed my warning,” Violet shouted after her as she walked
away. “It will be catastrophic!”
Em held up her middle finger but didn’t look back. This was the last
nonsense she needed in her life. Tonight was about having a good time and
celebrating Halloween. Yes, her life was terrible and tragic. It always had
been, but she thought for one night, maybe she could tuck that away. Just for
one night. On her way out of the Reading Room, she looked for Maria. No dice. So
now she had doom and gloom ahead without her friends. Swell.
Back at the center bar, the designated ‘I’ve lost my people’ place, Em
searched the area for a familiar face. Just as she ordered a drink for one, she
spotted him. Frenchie, the stunning man dressed as a French maid. And he did rock
heels like something Em had never seen.
“Oh my angel, oh my…I’ve lost them…Renee
and Butler,” Pure distress shown on his face as he grabbed Em’s arm, “Please,
please tell me you’ve seen them.”
Em shook her head and shouted over the noise, “Nope, but I’m headed to
the Poker Room. Care to join me?”
“Oh lawds no, darling, neither of them would be caught in a poker
room…not while there is all this…” He waved his arms in awe of his
surroundings, “If you should pass them, tell them I was at the Center Bar, but
now I’m at our other rendezvous point. Thanks, angel,” He winked at her
and disappeared into the crowd.
“Sure thing,” she said when he was far out of earshot. So who was the other
rendezvous point for? Just special people? Like Frenchie?
Em tossed back another shot. Alone. And headed to the Poker Room. This
night was not what she imagined. At all.
Sidling up to Michael Myers, she silently hoped he was ‘her’ Michael
Myers. She smiled and nodded. She didn’t even know his real name, or what his
face looked like under that mask. He returned her nod as she sat down, but that
didn’t mean anything. She played a quick two hands and doubled her money. She liked
poker, but she was already bored. Maybe someone, anyone, had gone back to the
bar, so she stood to go.
“Hey, Maria’s friend…” Michael Myers said, looking around, “Have you seen
them?”
“Nope,” she said and walked out. This night was beginning to drag.
Another drink perhaps.
Maria sat at the bar.
Em smiled. Finally. She held up two fingers to the bartender, then tapped
Maria on the shoulder, but what turned to face Em shook her to the core.
Maria, fidgeting and wringing her hands, sat there as her eyes pooled.
“Em…thank goodness. You have to help me find my husband. He’s missing.”
“Hey,” Em gave her a careful look, “What’s up? I’m sure he’s not
missing.”
“Jeez, Em! I tell you about my fears and you just…just…blow me off,”
Maria scoffed. There was no other word for it, except scoff.
The bartender set two shots in front of them and only shrugged when Em
tossed him a ‘What’s-with-her-look?’ She
turned back to her friend, “Look honey, I’m sure there’s no need to worry.
Let’s do a shot and I’ll help you look.”
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” Now she seethed, like some sort of
possessed demon, and Em took a step back. What was going on? But Maria wasn’t done,
she started screaming, ranting, “My husband is missing, and you want to drink?”
Then she slipped off the barstool and Em was no longer her only target.
Everyone was as the shouting continued as she disappeared into the crowd, “Doesn’t
anyone care what’s happening? Why aren’t you more worried? What is wrong with
you all?”
Em looked around with wide eyes, but no one else even seemed to notice.
When she looked back, Maria was gone, swept into the crowd. What on earth was
going on tonight? Part of her wanted to go after her friend. The other part of
her wanted to go wherever Maria wasn’t.
With a shrug Em took both shots, one right after the other. Then her head
spun. She hung her head in her hands and took several deep breaths. Maybe it
was time to just go home. Sweats and fuzzy socks sounded like heaven. Em
hiccupped and she almost threw up. Right on the bar. This night was on a
collision course with disaster. Another hiccup.
She ordered a water and reached for the pretzels on the bar. As she
munched, she tried to block out how many hands had touched them, even when bile
crept into her throat. She needed the salt to kill her hiccups. She should not
have done that second shot, or any of the last three. Probably. She took a long
swig of her water. It was all too much. She needed to go home. No matter what
else happened.
Just behind a wall of people next to her, a flash of fire filled the air.
Roars erupted, followed by more fire. Gasps and cheers echoed over the music. Curiosity
got the best of her, and she swung around to see what the big deal was. Another
flame leapt into the air and applause exploded. Em slid off her bar stool and
inched toward the action. An old biker chick was laying on the bar, as the
bartender poured a flaming shot down her throat. People of all kinds gathered
around. Shouts of praise and awe filled the air.
Em inched closer, and when absolute realization hit, she shouted,
“Granny!”
“Emmie, my little lovie!” The gray-haired old woman said, hopping off the
bar with ease.
Em blinked several times and cleared her head. Had she just collided with
disaster? Her Granny was here, dressed just like her, except her shirt read: I ♥ my Granddaughter (front) Even though I ate her
(back). Em tried not to cry, so she laughed instead, “What on earth are you
doing here?”
“Shots, lovie. You?”
“No seriously, what are you doing here, like at this ball?”
“Working.”
“Working?”
“Yeah…there’s a juju here…some kind of cursing, or perhaps a haunting.
I’m not sure yet, but it’s taking it out several innocent partygoers. Too many,
in my opinion.”
“What? Huh?” Em said, amazed. She was relatively new to this family, only
having recently connected with her biological dad. The man her biological
mother referred to as a huge demon mistake in NYC after way too much tequila...
