by Mrs. Bishop, an older woman who’s very vocal about her hate of vampires. Most of the items in her store come from flea markets, and Kristy and I used to come through here a few times a month, looking for haunted items.
It was a bit of a game for us, seeing who could find something with the strongest connection to a spirit. We laughed about how we were single-handedly saving the residents of Thorne Hill from being haunted while at the same time, releasing a spirit from this world and enabling them to move on.
Mrs. Bishop’s granddaughter is manning the register today, and she only glances up from her iPad when I walk through the door. She doesn’t even notice my little tabby cat walking along next to me.
“Let’s look at the jewelry in the back. Maybe we’ll find another charm bracelet with a sad, teenage spirit attached to it,” Freya rubs against my legs and prances ahead. Holding out my hands, I let my eyes fall shut as I read the energy of the store. Nothing speaks particularly loud to me today, but on my way back to the front of the store, I spot a pretty pink tea set.
“I’ve always wanted a matching set,” I tell Freya. “And I’ll actually have someone to pass it down to.”
Freya meows, letting me know she thinks I should get it. I pick up the box and take it up front to pay. Freya sits tall at my feet, purring and occasionally rubbing her head against my leg. The young girl behind the counter has some trouble with the register, and her face starts to turn beet red.
“I’m sorry,” she says, looking panicked. “The screen timed out and there’s a password and I…I…” A mom with her two daughters get in line behind me, making the cashier even more flustered. “Um, I, um, I might have to call my grandma.” She tries putting in another password. “I can’t remember.” The computer beeps. “Oh no. I’m going to get locked out.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, feeling bad when I see her eyes fill with tears. She opens a drawer under the register, flipping through a notebook to look for the password.
“Mom, look, a cat!” one of the young girls behind me whispers. “I think it’s Freya from the bookstore!”
“It is,” I say, smiling as I look over my shoulder.
Both girls get excited and crouch down to pet my familiar, who plops down on her side, rolling around on the floor as the girls pet her. They giggle and gush over Freya, and she loves every second of it. I smile, never tiring of seeing my familiars be total attention whores and look so cat-like they almost convince me they’re just normal felines.
“I’m so sorry,” the cashier tells me again. She brings her hand to her head and closes her eyes. “I can’t remember it. Grandma’s going to be so mad,” she whispers under her breath. Taking a quick look behind me, and seeing that the mom has her phone out, taking a picture of her daughters with Freya, I hold out my hand.
“Memento,” I whisper, and the cashier suddenly straightens up and types in the password to unlock the computer.
“It just came to me!”
“Imagine that.” With a smile, I get my wallet out of my purse and hand her my credit card. I pay for my tea set, tell the cashier not to worry about bagging it up, and take a few steps away from the register.
“Sorry, girls,” I say. “I need Freya to come with me. I’ll bring her to the bookstore with me sometime soon, though.” Freya stretches her paws out and gets up, trotting over to me. The girls are disappointed, and their mother is looking at me curiously, knowing that it’s absolutely not normal for a cat to be as obedient as a well-trained police dog, but not wanting to quite go there in her mind.
Because there pushes nons out of their comfort zone, and it’s always surprised me how much people are willing to ignore the obvious so they can stay in their safe little bubble. Vampires coming out a few years ago put the whole world in a panic, though I didn’t see what the uproar was. They’ve been around for centuries, living in secret and interacting with humans under the pretense they are human as well.
Call me crazy, but I’d rather know the truth than live in ignorant bliss.
I drop the tea set off in