Enchanted, A Paranormal Romance / Fantasy (Forever Charmed) (3 page)

Many of the stores were souvenir shops stuffed with buckets and shelves overflowing with seashells and dried starfish, or little replicas of the lighthouse. The smell of scented soaps and candles drifted out from the opening and closing doors, accompanied by the jingle of bells hung there. Mandy used to love these shops as a little girl. The fact that the merchandise never varied made no difference to her then. She reveled in digging through all the shiny seashells, looking for the prettiest, or the biggest, or the shiniest. She had a jar filled with all her treasure accumulated from all her trips to this town.

Nestled in between these little shops were other shops that had been here for too long as well. T-shirt shops, a toy store, the one coffee shop, a jewelry shop, Nana’s flower shop, and a few restaurants. Of course there was the famous Golden Rod restaurant that had been standing and operating since the dawn of York. People loved to stare in the windows of the restaurant because it was there you could watch the taffy machines pulling and twisting, cutting and wrapping fresh made saltwater taffy. It was fascinating to watch, even now, after witnessing it so many times. The long metal arms of the machine pulled and pulled the shiny, gooey, stringy looking substance over and over, over and over again. In another machine you could watch as a round log of this stuff was smashed through to a narrower opening where it was cut and rolled into the little white papers, falling into a pile below. People were always huddled around the big picture window, watching. Before long they would be drawn inside by the delicious scent of the taffy, a strong caramel-like smell, or perhaps that was molasses? Whatever the smell was, it lured the people inside like bees to clover. They would purchase their one-pound box of taffy that they had just watched get made. The white box with an illustration of the Golden Rod on its lid would be handed to them, a skinny rubber band just barely holding in all its sweet and chewy goodness inside the little box. As soon as they would leave with their purchase, the hands of the little children would eagerly be in the air, asking for a piece so they could try the delectable treat. Mandy remembered all this clearly, for once she had been a little girl watching those machines as well.

She walked past it now, barely glancing at the window and its throng of admirers, and headed down the street. She saw Bill and Bob’s jewelry store across the road and fondly remember that store as well. Its appearance had changed; they had renovated, but it was the same faces working behind the counters. The little shop was always crowded as well. They specialized in sterling silver jewelry, handmade there themselves, by Bill, or maybe Bob…truth was no one was sure who was who, but everyone loved the jewelry; children, women, old ladies, or guys looking for a pretty bauble for their significant other. It was filled with all kinds of eye-catching pieces, one of a kind. Dainty starfish immortalized in silver dangling from a pair of earring hooks, silver sand dollar charms, silver bracelets with abalone shell links gleaming up at you with their colors swirling and mingling together in the most elegant way. Then there was Mandy’s favorite part of the store, still exactly the same as she remembered it, besides the prices that had since sky rocketed: the counter on which you could find a box of child sized rings. It was piled high in a mish-mashed heap, the gleaming, little silver circles caught the eyes of most young girls who entered the store. Mandy remembered standing at that counter with her Nana so many years ago, pawing through the lovely pile, looking for the perfect ring. She always knew it when she saw it. Some years it had been a single thin band tied up in an intricate knot at the top, some years it had been a simple, twisted vine to encircle her pinkie finger, or sometimes it had been a silver loop encircling the most enchanting looking faux pearl, gem, or rock. Nana would let her stand there until she tired of trying on all the pretty rings and had finally settled on that particular summer’s perfect find.

Mandy paused at the window for a moment, looking and remembering. She wasn’t here for jewelry tonight though, so she walked on. She didn’t really have any one reason for coming into town tonight, other than to just get away from the newness of the house and be alone. The town felt familiar, unlike her new house. She already had memories made in the sleepy little town. She would just have to get used to the fact that she now lived in it.

Up ahead Mandy could see the town’s little zoo and amusement park, York’s Wild Animal Kingdom. The sun was setting in the cloudy sky, making the gray seem more defined. Against this backdrop the Ferris wheel was spinning, uninhibited by the gloomy evening, its lights all aglow. Mandy imagined there were probably future classmates riding the wheel now, perhaps happy couples. Mandy wished she was half of a pair now. Some company other than her family might be nice.

The high-pitched yipping of a little dog stole Mandy’s attention. She looked towards the direction of the noise and saw a little Chihuahua sitting up on its haunches, pawing at the air. A thin leather leash was attached to his collar, leading up to a squat looking older woman sitting on a chair next to a round table. Her tan skin was wrinkled like she had smoked too much or sat out in the sun for too long, or maybe both. Her black hair was too long for her age and pulled back into a low ponytail. Her eyes were like two dark marbles watching Mandy. Across the little table sat an older man with coarse looking gray hair in a bad attempt at a comb-over. He was wearing a brightly colored shirt that was unbuttoned a few too many buttons, showing off tan skin that matched the woman’s, but it was buried in gray fuzz. In the fuzz rested too many glimmering gold chains. The dog yipped again and pawed the air. This was the one shop that never seemed to really fit in among all the other familiar ones, the one Mandy had never visited. A paste-board white sign propped up on the table promised “Psychic Readings by Ms. Ophelia”. In front of the sign sat a glass ball; Mandy supposed it was a gaudy attempt at a crystal ball. Mandy realized she was staring and quickly turned her head and stumbled a bit backwards.

“Don’t worry, he won’t bite. He’s actually very gentle. He’s been waiting for you; I think he must want to say hello,” the bronze lady said.

Mandy took another slow step back. “Waiting for me?” she asked.

“You
are
Dolly’s granddaughter, aren’t you?”

“Don’t worry, Mandy. I know your Nana wouldn’t mind.” Ms. Ophelia’s marble eyes burned intently on Mandy, who hesitantly made her way to the now open chair, wondering all the while how she could respectfully excuse herself from this awkwardness. As she sat she could smell a strong incense burning. It felt as if it was singing her nostrils. It must be coming from behind the curtain where the old man had vanished to.

Obediently Mandy gave the psychic her hand, palm up. Ms. Ophelia took it in her own hand, which was a bit too hot, like she had a fever. She began to trace the lines in Mandy’s palm with her fingernail, which was slightly too long and painted a shocking shade of fuscia. Mandy stared, mesmerized by the fingernail. They were almost like talons.

Ms. Ophelia inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, all the while her claw-like nail still making invisible pictures on Mandy’s palm. “Ah, yes, I see it as I knew I would,” she breathed.

“See what?” Mandy asked, curious in spite of her pessimism.

“Shh,” commanded Ms. Ophelia. She breathed in and out slowly, her nostrils flaring. The little dog cocked his head and whined. Mandy was feeling more and more uncomfortable as this continued for what felt like an hour, but was in actuality only about two minutes. Ms. Ophelia’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

“It’s very clear to me, Mandy, but it won’t be so soon to you. In time it will reveal itself to you.”

“Who will reveal what to me?”

“Your lines, your roots here, are long and deep. You cannot deny who you are and what you are destined to become. It’s why you are here. You must uncover your past to reveal your future.”

“What?”

“That is all I am at liberty to say. Of course, for ten dollars I could tell you a little more,” Ms. Ophelia cackled.

Mandy pulled her hand back annoyed. This was the reason she had never come to this particular store in this particular town.
Bluffing lunatics!
“That won’t be necessary,” she replied curtly to Ms. Ophelia.

Ms. Ophelia shrugged as if to say “your loss”. The little dog whined again and Ms. Ophelia bent and scooped him into her lap. Mandy stood and said, “Um, thanks,” and started to back away once more.

“Oh, Mandy. One last thing: you might want to start in the antique trunk,” Ms. Ophelia advised as a low chuckle escaped her puckered mouth.

Mandy could only imagine the look of confusion on her face as she hastily turned and walked as fast as she could back up the street in the direction she had come from. Every inch of her wanted her to break into a run, to push past the swarms of vacationers strolling down the street, much too slow for Mandy’s liking. Instead she hopped off the curb and walked in the road along it, at a much faster clip.

Weird, weird, weird!
Her brain yelled at Mandy inside her head.
How did that psycho psychic know about the trunk?!
Mandy got goose bumps on her arms despite feeling like she was about to break into a sweat.
Ok, she knows Nana. Maybe they’re good friends. Maybe Nana told her she was giving it to me. There is a logical explanation for this because there’s no such thing as psychics.
Mandy looked at everything in life as black and white. Either it was or it wasn’t. There was no overlap, no gray zone.
Well, except for here
. She snickered darkly at her lame joke inside her head.

Finally she reached the parking lot and found the Boat parked there and waiting for her. For once she was happy to see it, with no ounce of regret or humiliation in the back of her mind. It felt like a safe haven. She unlocked the doors and slid into the cushiony interior, breathing a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaned her head back against the headrest and decided she would just forget this incident had ever happened. If she thought that long enough, maybe she would begin to believe she had imagined it, or that it was just another strange dream. She had lots of strange dreams. For all she knew, this was one. She exhaled, feeling slightly calmer, and opened her eyes to see a white piece of paper tucked under the windshield wipers.

“What now? A ticket? Aw, c’mon!” Mandy banged her hand against the steering wheel, causing the Boat to give a loud honk like it was crying out in pain. She jumped and then laughed at herself. She got out of the car and walked to the meter, expecting to see that it had run out of time. There was always one too many town cops riding their bicycles through this parking lot checking the meters and ticketing the offending cars. Mandy looked at the meter and saw that it still had ten minutes left. So it couldn’t be a ticket…

Mandy reached for the paper. It was a long white rectangle, but it was not ordinary paper. It was thicker and you could see and feel the pulp in it. In a gold pen someone had written “Check the trunk”. The paper fluttered down out of Mandy’s hand as she stood there frozen in her tracks. It took her only a second before she came to her senses and ran to door of the car. She flung it open and threw herself in, locking the doors the second they were closed. She barely looked around her before she backed up out of the space and high tailed it home, faster than she should have.

* * *

Chapter 3

The last few days for Mandy had passed uneventfully compared to her first night in her new town. She had been pretty rattled after her experience with Ms. Ophelia. She had gone home that night and made a bee-line for the trunk that was sitting at the foot of her bed. It looked exactly as she had left it. She had half expected to find it stolen, open, or stuffed with something crazy like a skeleton. Instead she had found it sitting quietly and unassuming. She had slowly opened it, feeling shaky about the whole procedure, but had found it empty as before, blanketed by the lovely red satin. She had carefully inspected the ornate carving on the wooden exterior looking for any hint or clue, a name, or a date but had found nothing. She had stared at the woman’s face carved into the top for a while, mesmerized by its haunting features, wondering who she was.

Mandy had debated internally over whether or not to mention the strange occurrences in town to her grandmother, but had decided against it. She was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, psychics were supposed to be a little eccentric. It was part of the package deal. For people who believed in that junk, it would probably be a let down if the part wasn’t acted appropriately.

Satisfied that there was nothing to find in or on the trunk and no apparent danger or mystery to solve, Mandy had pushed the subject from her mind. Her grandmother had put Mandy on the schedule to work the day after they had arrived, so Mandy had been able to keep herself occupied from being preoccupied from stupid superstitious weirdness.

Working in Enchanted Dew Drops was not a hard task. What was hard was having to be constantly surrounded and watched by her family. Then on top of that there were the constant introductions. There was a pretty steady stream of customers that trickled in and out of the shop all day. Most of them were on a first name basis with Nana, so naturally they were curious about the new help that was working behind the counter. All day Mandy had to deal with “Oh, hi Marge! This is my daughter, Suzanne, and my granddaughter, Mandy!” or “Who’s this pretty young lady?” “Ah, this is my lovely granddaughter, Mandy.” “Mandy, say hello to Mrs. Sumners”, “Bill, this is Mandy. Mandy, meet Bill.”, “Claudine! This is my bucket of sunshine I was telling you about, Mandy!”. All day for the first two days Mandy had to deal with comments like this, force herself to make polite chit-chat with these total strangers, and force herself to smile. Her face felt weird from being held in a frozen grin all day. It was all she could do not to reach up with her fingers and touch her mouth to see if it really was frozen in a grimace as she suspected.