The Curiosity Shop: A comedy of errors about witchcraft Read online

Page 4


  “I can’t finish,” was all she said.

  “Why not?”

  “The circle has been broken.”

  Cassandra appeared puzzled and didn’t understand what Lucinda was talking about. “What did you see?” Cassandra asked, almost demanding to know more.

  “It’s not for me to say.”

  Lucinda got up quickly. She started picking up the cards without saying a word and wrapped them in the red silk cloth and then put them back in the wooden box along with the silk cloth on the counter. She tucked everything back in the box. Before leaving she glanced over at Cassandra, who appeared troubled by then.

  “You take care,” Lucinda said, with a concerned look on her face.

  Cassandra shook her head. “What are you referring to?”

  “Trouble is on the horizon.” Lucinda looked warily at the door and then turned to Cassandra.

  “The cards told you that?”

  “No, it’s in the air.”

  Cassandra pointed an accusing finger at Lucinda while shaking her head. “And this has to do with Mitch?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No. But you as much as implied it by what you didn’t say.”

  Lucinda put her finger to her mouth and motioned for Cassandra to be silent.

  “Aren’t you going to eat you sandwich?” Cassandra said.

  Lucinda looked at the sandwich. She quickly put the plate and glass of milk on the tray and then picked up the tray. Without saying another word Lucinda turned and walked out of the shop, followed closely by Spider.

  Cassandra at times was losing her patience with Lucinda. Especially when it came to the supernatural and all that hocus-pocus.

  *

  It had been a while since Lucinda ventured out of the shop since her illness. The weather was perfect for a short walk to the market and just what she needed to get back on the mend. Besides, it wouldn’t take long, and Spider always enjoyed these little outings.

  As usual during the summer months when kids were out of school and full of mischief, she soon had a group following her with nothing constructive to do but harass an old woman. It started with them making fun of how slowly she walked. Spider hissed, with no effect on their taunting.

  Lucinda slowly walked up to Mr. Sanchez, who was adding apples to the outside display in front of his store. He had been running the small market for as long as Lucinda had her shop on the block. Lucinda walked up to him, ignoring the taunts from behind.

  “Did fresh melons come in?” she asked.

  Mr. Sanchez turned to her and smiled; it was an acknowledgement of their friendship. He didn’t have to ask her how she was, it was evident in his smile and the way he talked to her.

  “Yes, they’re in the back. If you want I can get you a nice ripe one,” Mr. Sanchez said. He knew Lucinda was on the mend and this was her first time out.

  Lucinda smiled agreeably while Mr. Sanchez quickly disappeared to get her the melon. What he didn’t see were the annoying kids who followed the old woman down the street. They hid around the corner, taunting Lucinda by making sounds like a witch laughing from The Wizard of Oz.

  Lucinda pretended not to notice as Spider rubbed his body around Lucinda’s feet. All she did was turn to the boys with a devious smile across her face. The kids, realizing whom they were dealing with, quickly scattered and ran down an alley where a garbage truck was collecting garbage.

  Lucinda just watched the garbage truck at the end of the alley. As the kids approached the back of the truck, the mechanism disengaged but instead of compacting the garbage, it extracted it from the back of the truck onto the kids, burying them in the waste of the city. All she did was smile to herself as Spider meowed.

  By that time Mr. Sanchez had walked out of the store with a melon wrapped in a paper bag. She turned and walked over to where Mr. Sanchez stood.

  “How much do I owe you?” she asked.

  Mr. Sanchez just waved his hand and then quickly added, “You helped Sheila.”

  “All I did was show her the way. She did the rest.”

  “But if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, she might not have taken the step.”

  “With her talent it was only a matter of time that Julliard would have been pounding down your door.”

  “Anytime I can be of help.”

  Mr. Sanchez handed Lucinda the bag. “How’s your niece working out?”

  “She’s a godsend.”

  “Tommy says she’s a looker.”

  “He should stop by and introduce himself,” Lucinda quickly added.

  “Mr. Sanchez laughed with a hearty roar. “His fiancée might not take kindly to that.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought...”

  “He may be engaged, but he’s not dead yet.”

  “It’s hard on Cassandra, working at the shop all day and having no friends in the city.”

  Mr. Sanchez nodded in agreement. He might be old but he still remembered what it was like to be young and getting together with friends after work. He turned to Lucinda with a look of apprehension.

  “How’s business at the shop?” he asked.

  Lucinda just shook her head. She clearly understood the sacrifice Cassandra was giving up to care for her and manage the shop. She only hoped to regain her strength so as to make Cassandra’s life easier.

  “I haven’t been approached yet, if that’s what you are getting at.

  “They are slowly making their way around the neighborhood. The Missus and I were worried about you and your shop.”

  Lucinda just smiled warmly. She was touched by her old friend’s concern. She gave him a sheepish grin and quickly added, “I’ll be around for a long while yet and look forward to being visited by these young men.”

  “Good to hear that. And you tell your niece, my Stella has a nephew who is getting released in a month.”

  Lucinda held up her hand for Mr. Sanchez to stop. “Cassandra isn’t looking for a relationship.”

  “I thought...”

  She just shook her head for him to stop as she tucked the melon under her arm. She smiled politely and walked off, with Spider following close behind.

  Chapter 5

  It was early on his walk around the neighborhood. Mitch enjoyed this time of the day best, just before the sun set. The air was always crisp, with a slight breeze. Kids played their games in the alley, out of the way of traffic. This was what they called the lazy days of summer. He enjoyed being a beat cop walking the old neighborhood; no matter how much time passed, things still stayed the same. As he turned the corner and started walking down the street, he saw one of the young kids from the neighborhood looking suspiciously around but failed to notice Mitch behind him as he grabbed an apple off the cart on the outside display of Mr. Sanchez’s grocery store. Quickly Mitch grabbed the kid by the collar. He then took the apple out of the kid’s hand and put it back on the cart. The kid turned to Mitch.

  “Officer, I was going to pay,” he snapped in his own defense.

  “I’m sure you were. But just to be on the safe side, do your shopping in another store from now on.”

  Mitch shoved the kid on his way. The kid turned back to stare at Mitch before disappearing around the corner. Mr. Sanchez, hearing the commotion outside, stepped out of the store in time to see the kid round the corner.

  “Those kids are robbing me blind,” he said and then turned to Mitch with a shrug. “Not like the old days.”

  “He won’t bother you tonight.”

  “What has this world come to when kids have no respect for an honest day’s work?” Mr. Sanchez sighed.

  “It’s a rough world out there.”

  “It’s not so easy in here either,” Mr. Sanchez said, looking inside the store at the sparsely stocked shelves.

  Mr. Sanchez walked out onto the sidewalk and stared down the street and then turned to Mitch.

  “If it’s not the kids robbing me blind, then I have to worry about some jerk hitting me up for insurance mone
y.”

  “We all have to have insurance.”

  “Not this kind.”

  Mitch stared at Mr. Sanchez for the longest time. When Mr. Sanchez didn’t volunteer the information, Mitch turned to him and point blank asked what he meant.

  “Who’s hitting you up for protection money?”

  Mitch thought those days were over when the Belzoni crew got sent away. This was the first he had heard about another group moving into the neighborhood. He would have to keep his eyes open and listen to talk now. Mitch thought about Rosy and her cousin Gino. Gino never really did say what he wanted out of Mitch. All he knew was that Gino never was on the up and up all through the years. He was always too clever to get caught, and Mitch wanted nothing to do with any enterprise Gino was involved in.

  Mr. Sanchez glanced around as if making sure no one was watching before he turned back to Mitch. He shrugged his shoulders and wished he had kept his mouth shut now. It was not wise to be a snitch, and he feared the retaliation that would follow if word got out he was talking to the cops.

  Reluctantly Mr. Sanchez confessed to Mitch. “I don’t know exactly whose group took over. Rumor had it, that it was from that Rocco’s crew. He took over when the Belzoni group got sent up the river.”

  “I didn’t know,” Mitch replied, taking out his notebook and jotting a few things down.

  “You get rid of one rat and more move in.”

  Mitch just shook his head in frustration. ”I’ll look into it. Has anyone else complained about them?”

  Mr. Sanchez looked down, not wanting to face Mitch with this answer. He finally looked up. “Nobody talks about it. But I see them go into the other shops.”

  Mr. Sanchez pointed up and down the street. He picked up an apple from the cart and tossed it to Mitch.

  “On the house.”

  Mitch stared at the apple for the longest time. He knew it was against department policy to accept gifts from the shop owners, even though he felt an apple would not corrupt him, Mitch took out a dollar bill from his pocked and handed to Mr. Sanchez. Mitch then tossed the apple in the air and caught it. He turned to Mr. Sanchez and said, “Thanks, I forgot to pack a lunch.”

  “Now if you had a good woman to feed you, you’d have some meat on those bones,” Mr. Sanchez mocked, giving Mitch the once-over.

  “I got a woman,” Mitch laughed.

  Mitch thought about Rosy and her culinary skills. He didn’t think she knew what the stove was used for, much less the cooking utensils in the drawer. Their counter was filled with take-out menus. It was Mr. Sanchez who brought Mitch back to the conversation at hand.

  “But you haven’t made an honest woman of her yet.”

  “She doesn’t just want marriage, she wants a career.”

  “You need someone to take care of you,” Mr. Sanchez argued, with no real insight about Mitch’s personal life. All he knew was he liked Mitch and what he stood for. Mr. Sanchez liked the fact that Mitch wouldn’t even take a free apple because of how it might be perceived.

  Mitch just laughed, thinking of having a conversation with Rosy and how he would approach her about cooking him a meal. She had a habit of throwing things, and he didn’t know how he would be able to deflect pots and pans if he ever broached this subject with her.

  “I have a friend who has a niece. She’s available.”

  Mitch held up his hands. “I don’t need help in that area,” Mitch said, as he backed away from Mr. Sanchez. He raised the apple and then smiled a big thank-you to the old man.

  Mitch continued down the street. Early evening was an easy time for him. It was a time to get to know all the shop owners personally and get the lay of the land. Knowing who belonged and who didn’t, so when darkness fell it made his job easier. That was when his cop skills kicked in, checking doors and windows, looking down alleys making sure the various shops were safe on his beat. It was a lonely time, though, as this part of the city generally was quiet after midnight and the only noise coming from alleys was from stray cats digging through the discarded rubble of a busy city.

  But that was not to be that evening, as Mitch turned the corner and the noises coming from the alley were human voices. As a precaution, Mitch unbuckled his gun. He glanced around, making sure no one was behind him as he ventured closer to the group of four boys. The light from the other end of the alley was all there was to guide him. He could see the one boy trying to hide something as he got closer. Mitch pointed his billy club at the one boy while keeping a watchful eye on the other three.

  “What’s that in your pocket, boy?” Mitch said, pointing the billy club at the pocket he was referring to.

  “Nothing, Officer,” the boy whined in a way that told Mitch this was not going to go down easy.

  “We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way.”

  Mitch slowly walked up to the boy but he did not see that more boys surrounded him, in all there was a group of eight now. Mitch quickly glanced around as he tried to get his back up against the building but before he could do that, he was struck from behind and quickly knocked to the ground defenseless. Mitch was dazed momentarily when the boldest of the boys kicked him in the ribcage, knocking the wind out of him. Mitch moaned. A few of the boys, realizing the ramification of attacking a police officer, ran out of the alley for parts unknown. Mitch tried to get up but was hit in the face by one of the boys. Blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth as he fell back to the ground. Mitch had a hard time breathing when one boy stooped down. He grabbed ahold of Mitch’s chin and looked him square in the face.

  “Someone wants to talk to you, Officer,” he snapped as he dropped Mitch’s chin, and Mitch collapsed onto the pavement.

  Gino stepped out of the shadows. He walked up to the boys, took out some bills from his pocket, and handed it to the lead boy. Gino motioned for the boys to leave as he turned his attention to Mitch lying on the pavement. All but two boys left the alley.

  “Mitch, you’ve been a bad boy,” Gino said, as he walked around Mitch lying on the ground.

  Mitch struggled to look up. Blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth, while his nose dripped blood all over the pavement. He had a hard time making out Gino through the swollen slits of his eyes but he knew the voice.

  “What’s this about?” Mitch said weakly.

  “Mr. Sanchez says you’ve been stirring things up.”

  Mitch realized that he had been observed talking to Mr. Sanchez earlier that evening. He suspected the boy whom he caught about to steal the apple. Once the boy ran around the corner of the building, Mitch never gave him another thought. Now he wished he had.

  Gino stopped circling Mitch on the ground and gave him a swift kick in the side. Mitch groaned, too weak to get up or make a defense. The two boys who were still in the alley also started kicking at Mitch. Once the boys stopped, Gino glanced down at Mitch. He had his hands on his knees and then pointed down at Mitch.

  “All you had to do was look the other way.”

  “It’s my job,” Mitch said weakly.

  Gino kicked Mitch again. “Wrong answer.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” Mitch whispered.

  “This job is going to get you killed. You want to live to see Christmas, then stay out of my way.”

  Gino turned and walked out of the alley. The one boy took out a packet from his pocket and dangled it in front of Mitch’s face, laughing.

  “Here officer. If you want to arrest me for dealing in sugar, then go right ahead.”

  The boy stood up and kicked Mitch one last time. The two boys followed Gino out of the alley, leaving Mitch lying in a pool of blood.

  Mitch rolled over and just lay there looking up at the sky. He tried to take a deep breath but it hurt too much. He knew this was not the end of Gino. It angered him what Rosy was getting him involved in. He worked too hard to become a cop to throw it all away by letting criminals take over the neighborhood on the crazy whim of keeping his girlfriend.

  Once he was
able to, Mitch slowly got up. He stumbled out of the alley and glanced around, but saw no one. Mr. Sanchez’s store was closed for the evening. He looked up at the apartment above the store and saw Mr. Sanchez looking down at him, but the old man just turned away in embarrassment. Mitch knew this was how it was going to be. It was like that all over the city when criminals took over entire neighborhoods. People never wanted to stand up for themselves. It was easier for them to pay rather than stand up and fight for their rights. That fact angered Mitch as he stumbled down the street.

  Chapter 6

  Once the shop closed for the night, Cassandra took the opportunity to clean and straighten up the shelves. It was important for things to be clean and neatly put back in place before turning off the lights for the night. It was a ritual that Lucinda did and Cassandra had promised to maintain. Keeping Lucinda stress-free was a priority for Cassandra because it meant her recovery time would be lessened, as stress was what the doctor determined caused the mild heart attack earlier that month. Besides, it was a task Cassandra rather enjoyed as she hummed while she worked. She was glad she had been between jobs when her mother called her about Aunt Lucinda’s medical emergency. It was the light tap on the front door that caused Cassandra to stop her reflection on her life as she turned to see Mitch slumped over and falling to his knees.

  Cassandra rushed over and opened the door. She reached down to help Mitch up. “What happened?” she asked.

  Mitch just shook his head feebly. “I fell,” is all he managed to say.

  Cassandra just stared at Mitch for the longest time in disbelief. Then she reached and grabbed hold of his arm, helping him into the shop and over to the stool by the counter. Cassandra quickly walked back to the door and locked it. She pulled the shade down.

  Mitch almost passed out from the pain but then quickly recovered.

  “I’ll call an ambulance,” Cassandra said, reaching for the phone.

  Mitch suddenly grabbed her arm to stop her. “No. You can’t,” he said, looking up at Cassandra with pleading eyes.