Gypsy Magic - J.R. Rain Page 0,28

shelves had been left empty for merchandise, but several of the top shelves had been stuffed full of fat glass jars you’d find in a candy store. They sat empty, but were full of promise.

Along another wall, was a glass display case with glittering crystal handles. It was also empty, and the mirrored back wall reflected the executive desk just in front of it. The desk was constructed of dark wood with a chocolate leather top and a black wood, swivel chair appeared behind it. On the desk’s surface was an antique cash register, a ledger, and a ceramic mug full of calligraphy pens.

“Oh my God, Marty, this is...” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I choked on a fresh wave of emotion, as I shook my head and faced him, in complete awe.

“McFly,” he corrected me. “Remember? You call me McFly.”

“McFly,” I said as I took a deep breath. “I… I can’t believe it.” I shook my head again, taking in everything around me with renewed shock and elation.

Marty smiled at me, a boyish, hopeful gleam in his eye. “Do you like it?”

I nodded until my neck hurt. “I love it.”

He beamed even more broadly. “We’ve still got some things to get. I’ve got to pick up some more screws for one of the cabinets and some more light bulbs for the chandelier.” He looked up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t look like the lights in this place have been replaced in years and you may want to consider an area rug for the front entry. There might be some water damage on the wood floor.”

“I just… I don’t even know what to say,” I said as I circled around again and felt like I wanted to cry.

“Is it what you wanted?” Marty asked, sounding hopeful.

“It’s above and beyond what I wanted!” I said, nearly singing. I looked at the store again. There wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. If I was a betting woman, I’d say Marty had scrubbed the floors, fixtures, and furniture with wood polish. “It’s just… you had to have spent a fortune on the furniture. This is way more than what we originally talked about…”

He shook his head and held up his hands. “Everything was free, Poppy.”

“Free?” My eyes about bugged out of my head.

He nodded. “This stuff used to belong to Henner’s grandmother, Ethel. It’s been crowding up his basement for years. Believe me, you’re doing him a favor by taking it.”

“You really are,” another voice said, drawing my attention to an outcropping of boxes that were piled one on top of the other. There was a man hidden behind them, and he craned his neck around one side to wave at me.

“Yeah, it was this or a yard sale,” he started. “No one wanted to take any of it!”

I was shocked. “Why not?”

He frowned. “Everyone was afraid it was all cursed.”

“Cursed?” I repeated, frowning. “Why?”

He nodded. “Because of the legends surrounding the old Tayir House.”

“The Old Tayir House?” I repeated, looking at Marty for an explanation.

“Henner’s grandmother owned the Tayir House, back in the day. Everyone called her Lady Tayir.”

“You mean everyone called her ‘Witch Tayir’,” Henner corrected.

I started forward, mainly to see what Henner was working on behind the tower of boxes. He was crouching over what looked like an old-timey radio. The insides had been gutted, and wires trailed out onto the floor like limp, multi-colored spaghetti.

Seeing me, he stood to his full height, which seemed to be six feet, or so. The first thing I noticed was his black, hooded sweatshirt and the skeleton torso on it, making it look like he was half skeleton. He was wearing black shorts, even though it was freezing outside, with black combat boots. And on his head was what looked like a genuine, military-issue beret, covering part of his long, black hair.

His smile was extremely friendly as he extended a hand to me. “I’m Henner Tayir, by the way. You’re Holly, right?”

“Yes,” I started as I took his hand and shook it briefly. “It’s really great to meet you.”

“Poppy,” Marty corrected us both and then patted me on the head. “We call her Poppy here.”

Even though Marty patting me on the head made me feel like his trusted dog, it was still cute, all-the-same. It made me feel like I was one of the gang. And I liked that feeling.

“Oh, cool,” Henner answered as I thought about the fact that Marty called me Poppy. I liked that too.

But, going back to the