The Curiosity Shop: A comedy of errors about witchcraft

  The Curiosity Shop

  A comedy of errors about witchcraft

  By Lillian Francken

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, was purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  Other books by Lillian Francken:

  Tetris

  The Twelfth of Never

  Omega Factor

  Rustic Roads

  Blue Moon Rising

  Till Death Do Us Part

  Wednesday’s Child

  A Family Christmas Story

  We Come In Peace

  All About Love

  Visit my website for more information about Lillian Francken

  http://lillianfrancken.weebly.com/

  Dedicated to the witch in all of us.

  Chapter 1

  Ribbons of moonlight streaked through the low-hanging clouds and danced across the thick foliage as the foggy mist made visibility almost impossible. The forest long since was shrouded in darkness as Cassandra Sinclair, in a long white flowing gown, struggled through the thick undergrowth of ferns and vines that hung from low-hanging branches. Her long curly strawberry-blonde hair had sprigs of baby’s breath tangled in its strands, it made her hazel-green eye seemingly glow in the dark. Cassandra was searching feverishly for something when suddenly a movement in the underbrush a short distance from her caught her attention. Quickly she turned and ran off in the opposite direction, but whatever it was followed her closely. Cassandra finally made her way to an open path; she ran up the narrow, winding walkway to a light over the rise in the distance. But as she rushed to get closer, the light seemed to dissipate into the horizon. The light through the clouds was no more and the ever-present darkness threatened to consume her in its vastness.

  The crashing of thunder in the distance rattled pictures on the walls of the upstairs apartment above The Curiosity Shop. Cassandra suddenly sat up in bed, startled awake. Her forehead perspired and her breathing was labored as she tried to catch her breath. It had been a dream she had often had since coming to stay with her aunt to help with her convalescence. Since graduating from college last spring and no job lined up, it fell on her to help her aunt out for a few months. It scared her, not knowing the meaning, and she feared talking to her aunt because she knew all dreams were an undercurrent of things to come.

  The sirens in the distance were a welcome reminder that she wasn’t in the forest of her dreams but in the heart of a busy city that never slept. She had only been there for a short time, but already the sounds of the city were familiar.

  By then the bedroom was cloaked in darkness as the storm in the distance was slowly coming nearer. Antique furniture filled the once-fashionable room that long since was in much need of repair. Cassandra dozed restlessly in the large four-postered bed as lightning struck nearby, followed by the clamor of pictures on the walls and the thunderous roar that followed the flash of electricity. There had been threats of a storm in the distance all day, though it was a much-needed relief from the hot, humid days that drained everyone of their energy.

  Shadows flickered across the room as curtains swayed from the window that was cracked open for a cool night breeze. Cassandra suddenly cringed as another flash of light illuminated the room, followed by the vibration of a close strike. Once again, things in the room rattled as a picture fell off the wall, shattering glass across the floor.

  The bedroom at her aunt Lucinda Montgomery’s was above the emporium store, The Curiosity Shop. The curtains swayed again as the wind outside picked up. Cassandra heard something fall on the floor from another room in the apartment.

  “Cassandra, Cassandra,” came the soft-spoken voice of her aunt.

  Cassandra struggled with the tangled sheets as she tried to get out of bed. Once clear of her confinement, she reached for the lamp on the nightstand, but all there was, was a hollow clicking sound. Nothing illuminated the room. She reached for the robe at the foot of the bed and grabbed it and wrapped it around herself.

  “Cassandra, are you okay?” came the voice again.

  “Auntie, I’ll be right there. The electricity is out,” Cassandra said, trying to comfort the elderly woman.

  Cassandra slowly felt her way across the room, careful to avoid the shattered glass. The lightning helped her see as she made her way to Lucinda’s room. Once she entered the darkened room, lightning struck again. Lucinda was sitting up in bed. Her frail body looked small in the queen-size bed.

  “What took you so long, child? Lucinda asked. It may have been dark in the room, but Cassandra could still see the worried look on the elderly woman’s face.

  “I had a dream,” Cassandra said, as a twinge of fear crept through her core. She felt fearful that Lucinda would want to analyze it.

  “No time for that now,” Lucinda said with a look of concern on her face. Under normal circumstances she would have wanted to know all about Cassandra’s dream but she feared the dark.

  “I’ll get a flashlight for you,” Cassandra said.

  Once Cassandra was sure there was nothing wrong, she quickly got up and felt her way out of the bedroom. Slowly she made her way down the long hall that led to the kitchen, where she felt around until she found the flashlight in the drawer next to the sink. Lightning flashed through the light as she turned; the beam of light from the flashlight was weak and slowly faded into nothing. She tapped it lightly on her palm. The light came on again but then slowly faded again.

  Cassandra made her way back down the hall while tying her robe securely. She stood in the doorway and glanced into Lucinda’s room, holding up the flashlight.

  “Batteries are dead. I’m going to get some candles from the shop.”

  “Be careful,” Lucinda said with concern, as lightning flashed again and the crashing sound of thunder filled the room.

  Suddenly Spider, a large black cat, jumped up on the bed, startling the two. Cassandra quickly put her hand to her chest and leaned back on the doorsill. Once her breathing settled somewhat, she glanced at Lucinda.

  “Keep Spider up here. I don’t want to be tripping over him in the dark.”

  Spider walked slowly across the bed to where Lucinda lay. He rubbed his body against Lucinda’s outstretched hand and then twisted his body into her chest and rested on her lap as he meowed softly, looking up at Cassandra.

  The dark walnut paneling was from a time long ago adding to the mystic of the rumors that the building held secrets from a time when surreptitious clubs opened in the city.

  Once Cassandra had descended the stairs slowly, she glanced into the old shop. Shadows danced across the walls from the cars driving by. The shelves were filled with various items. Some contained small bottles of potions, others were filled with suncatchers made by the various art students who frequented the shop and used the barter system with Lucinda. There was an array of crystals of all sorts of sizes and shapes depending on one’s need. Cassandra was struck by the range of oddities, like old books and antiques. It was the perfect place for anyone seeking an unusual item and added to the mystique of the shop’s name, The Curiosity Shop.

  Cassandra slowly walked in and maneuvered around in the dark. In the daylight she never thought about what was sold at her aunt’s emporium. But in the ominous illusion of night the darkness sent chills up her spine as she glanced around at all the oddities that were sold through the course of a day’s business. Her aunt had hinted around about the different items sold in the shop, and talked about potions and verses that were said to make them work, but Cassandra had never bought into
the hocus-pocus Lucinda touted. But the people who frequented the shop apparently did.

  There were various decks of tarot cards and instruction books on interrupting the cards and their meanings when laid out in a given combination. The crystals in the locked case puzzled her, and she was curious why they were displayed on the black velvet cloth, other than to show off their beauty. In the weeks she had been there, she was never allowed to open the case or touch them for fear of contamination. Cassandra never believed in their power, but abided by her aunt’s instructions to not let anyone handle them so as to keep them pure. It was the shelf with all the essential oils that bothered her most. There was hyssop, angelica, frankincense, with springs of rue and slivers of fresh garlic. Cassandra didn’t know what all these items were used for. Only Lucinda mixed things off these shelves. It was when she’d found the Book of Shadows hidden under the counter shelf that she realized all those rumors of her youth might feasibly be true. Lucinda was not the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, so that myth was proven wrong altogether. Cassandra had never believed the old wives tale but since being there and helping Lucinda with her little emporium shop she now wondered if all those rumors about her aunt being a witch were, in some regard, true. But that was neither here not there as she crossed the little shop in the dark until she reached the shelf with all of Lucinda’s homemade candles and quickly grabbed a couple.

  Cassandra felt her way to the counter, grabbed the book of matches, and quickly lit one of the candles, setting it in a candleholder from a shelf in back of the counter. She then put an extra candle and holder in her pocket. Cassandra made her way back to the door leading to the apartment upstairs when lightning flashed and the clamor of thunder startled her for a moment. She glanced around the room and then decided to check the door to make sure it was still secure.

  Slowly Cassandra maneuvered to the door. The streetlights outside were not lit, and it appeared as if the outage had affected the whole neighborhood as she glanced down the street. Cassandra had turned and started back to the door leading upstairs when there was a light tap on the door that startled her. She quickly turned as lightning struck again suddenly, and it was then she saw the uniformed officer standing outside and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Cassandra just stood staring at the officer on the street outside. All he did was motion for her to open the door, which she really didn’t want to do. She hesitated a moment and then set the candleholder down on the counter and walked over to the door, as the officer held up his ID against the window. Mitch Westfield was all she saw, along with his shiny badge. She was thankful she wouldn’t have the embarrassment of asking to see some form of identification. Once Cassandra opened the door she quickly made sure her robe was secure and then glanced up at the officer.

  “Is there anything wrong, officer?” she asked with wide eyes.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Mitch replied, looking beyond Cassandra into the shop to make sure it was all clear.

  “The lights were out. I came down for some candles.”

  Mitch glanced at Cassandra with a look of suspicion but then realized she was in her nightclothes. He figured she had to belong there, although he hadn’t seen her around before. But then The Curiosity Shop was a place he tended to avoid, given the rumors about the old woman who worked there.

  “There have been a rash of breakins lately,” he said.

  “In this neighborhood?” she asked with surprise.

  “Are you new here?”

  Cassandra was taken aback by the remark. All she did was shrug and then realized he was just doing his job.

  “I’m helping my aunt. She’s not feeling well.”

  “The old lady is your aunt?”

  “Yes, she’s upstairs if you don’t believe me,” Cassandra said curtly.

  Mitch just stared at Cassandra. He found it difficult to take his eyes off her and in the dimly lit room, he never saw anyone who looked more beautiful.

  “The kids in the neighborhood call her the witch of Morgan Street.”

  “And your point in telling me this is?” Cassandra snapped.

  It angered her the way people just assumed because you were different they put a label on you. All the while, growing up, she’d heard the rumors about Lucinda. Whenever her aunts came visiting and she came into the room, Cassandra’s mother and her other aunts would hush their talk, but Cassandra would listen through the vents in their old colonial-style house. She was always intrigued by stories about Lucinda. Because she lived across the country, she never saw her much while growing up. It was only in recent years that they’d become close through letters and a bond was formed.

  Mitch interrupted Cassandra, while raising his hands in his own defense. “Oh no. I don’t mean any disrespect. She has always been good to me, the few times I saw her.”

  Cassandra just stared at Mitch for the longest time and then quickly added, “If you don’t mind, I better get back to her. She doesn’t like the dark.”

  “But I thought...” he started to say.

  “She’s not a witch!”

  “That isn’t what I was going to say.”

  Cassandra looked at him sheepishly before adding, “What were you going to say?”

  “Living upstairs to a shop like this, you’d think nothing would scare her.”

  “Whatever do you mean by that remark?” Cassandra said, although she knew full well what he meant. For some reason, though, it bothered her and she felt the need to defend her aunt.

  Mitch glanced around. “It’s a little strange what she sells here. And I hear talk about people who come in here.”

  “Oddities, that is all. What’s so strange about old books, crystals, candles, and supplies?” Cassandra said as she held up the homemade candle from the store

  Cassandra walked over to a shelf with books while Mitch reached over to a shelf he was standing next to. He took a small bottle off the shelf and then held it up close so he could read the contents.

  “Dried duck webbed feet. What’s that used for?” Mitch asked, almost fighting back his urge to laugh.

  “It’s purely meant as...” she started to say, shaking her head when she saw the grin on Mitch’s face. “Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.”

  Cassandra reached up for the leather-bound book on the shelf in front of her. It was a book of Shakespeare’s early works. Spider slowly crept into the shop. He quickly jumped up on a shelf and watched the two closely as Cassandra held up the book and then handed it to Mitch carefully.

  “What is so strange about this?”

  Mitch just stared at the old book and then laughed. “I never liked reading this stuff.”

  “His stories have stood the test of time. Unlike what you see on book stands now.”

  Mitch shrugged. “I don’t have time to read much.”

  Cassandra was taken aback for a moment, but whispered to herself, “How sad.”

  “I’m not asking for your sympathy,” Mitch said in his defense. “I never found anything that really interested me enough to take the time.”

  Cassandra shook her head. “You have to make the time. There are a few good books still worth reading. Look at it as an adventure.”

  “You’ll have to guide me,” Mitch said, and then realized what he’d said. He was embarrassed for a moment, thinking about Rosy, his girlfriend, and what she would say if she found out he was talking like that to another woman.

  Cassandra laughed. She slowly walked back to the counter and stared at the burning candle. She then turned back to Mitch and stared at him for the longest time.

  “I better get back to my aunt.”

  Mitch glanced at his watch. “I have rounds to finish. Will you be okay?” he asked.

  Cassandra looked around the shop slowly. The storm had subsided outside. The streetlights in the distance were on now. She turned to Spider, who was still sitting on the shelf watching them, and then she smiled shyly.

  “I was perfectly fine before you stopped
in.”

  Mitch smiled with embarrassment. “Nice talking to you,” he said nervously as he nodded his head. “I didn’t get your name.”

  “Cassandra.”

  Mitch backed up to the door and then said shyly, “That’s pretty. You can call me Mitch.”

  Mitch opened the door and then walked out. As the door closed behind him, he just stood in the light mist watching Cassandra lock the door behind him. She slowly looked up at Mitch and then smiled as she waved goodbye to him. In a few minutes he disappeared into the darkness.

  Spider’s meowing brought Cassandra back to the here and now. All she did was turn, take a deep breath, and then walked over to Spider on the shelf. She picked him up and then set him down on the floor and watched him for a moment, as he turned and looked up at her.

  “You’ve been spying on me again,” Cassandra said, as she pointed her finger at the cat.

  Spider meowed again, as if answering her. Cassandra walked over to the candle, picked it up off the counter, she turned to the front door and watched Mitch making his way down the street.

  Chapter 2

  Cassandra slowly walked up the stairs and down the long hall to Lucinda’s bedroom. It startled her at first when she got closer to the door and saw the empty bed. To her surprise, Lucinda was standing at the open window looking down at the street below. Spider jumped out of her arms and walked over to the window as Cassandra set the candle on the nightstand. Cassandra walked over to where Lucinda stood and glanced down to see Mitch checking shop doors as he made his way along the darkened street.

  Lucinda turned to Cassandra. “I heard voices downstairs,” she said with concern.

  Cassandra took the candle and holder out of her pocket. She put the candle in the holder and walked over to the nightstand and lit it with the candle sitting there. She then set her candle next to the lit candle.

  “The police officer stopped in to see if everything was okay,” Cassandra said, not wanting to look at Lucinda.