《A Normal Life (Urban Fantasy)》 I. I couldn¡¯t decide what was worse: the chunk of wet ceiling spread across the floor of my waiting room or that the management company sent Walter to fix the leak. They could have sent any of their dozen maintenance workers and it wouldn¡¯t have bothered me. But instead they sent one of the five adult children of the company¡¯s elderly and superstitious owner. Like all of her children, he searched and schemed for a reason to kick me out. Their effort inevitably gravitated toward attempting to prove my paranormal investigation business was defrauding the public. I did not enjoy interacting with any of them. However, out of the five, Walter had the slight redeeming quality of being the least talkative. Walter chewed like there was something bitter in his mouth. It was a cue I had come to recognize that he was preparing to speak. Perhaps he experienced some physical discomfort when he spoke and that could explain why he doesn¡¯t talk as much as his siblings. I¡¯ve never asked. Not out of lack of curiosity, I just don¡¯t want to talk to the guy anymore than I have to. ¡°You think a ghost did this?¡± Walter paced out his syllables. People who use the slow rate of his speech as a yardstick to measure his intellect learn the hard way that he¡¯s a brilliant, albeit unlicensed, engineer. Well, brilliant for every other tenant except me. But that was probably because he wanted me to find a new place with a different landlord. ¡°No, Walter, I think water did this.¡± I had spent the night on the cot in my office and found the mess in the waiting room after the sound of dripping woke me up. It was a miracle it missed the vacant receptionist desk, as any damage to the original furnishings would have caused problems with my lease. Walter stood with the posture of a tree. His eyes gazed everywhere except for the ceiling and where it landed. From my office, the digital alarm clock sounded at a volume so loud it felt like it was compensating for all the times it never went off. ¡°That a smoke detector?¡± ¡°Walter, I¡¯ll take care of the alarm clock. I need you to focus on the leak.¡± I turned away and walked into the office where the digital clock rested on my vintage metal tanker desk. The whole suite was frozen in time, as per the conditions of my controversial lease. I flicked the switch on the clock off, but it kept going. I tried again without any luck. I grabbed the cord and yanked the plug out of the wall. Of course this was the one time the battery inside had enough charge to keep the alarm going. I picked up the heavy book of Arthurian legends I had been reading last night and whacked the alarm clock with the tome. It made one final pathetic beep before it went silent for good. There was a brief moment of serenity in the fresh silence and I was about to breathe it in but Walter startled me. ¡°You sleep here?¡± He stood in the doorway to the office and pointed to the cot with the mismatched blankets. He could move fifty times faster than he could talk, but only if I wasn¡¯t looking. ¡°I¡¯m between apartments. You know how it is in the city.¡± Not only was I between apartments but I was also between cases, which would be necessary to pay rent. ¡°Nah, I just fix things. Family takes care of the business stuff.¡± The sound of water dripping from the ceiling as he spoke was more disturbing than the alarm clock had been. Why couldn¡¯t they have sent someone else over, just this one time? I don¡¯t blame Walter or his siblings, even if their antics irritate me. Their mother hired me to look into the haunting of this unit, only there was no haunting. I was upfront about it, but then she insisted I use the space. When I said I couldn¡¯t afford the rent, she waived it. When it comes to hauntings, most people will go to great lengths to deny the evidence. No matter how obvious it is. She, on the other hand, denied the lack of evidence. She wanted or needed to know this particular office was haunted. In between the sound of dripping water, a young woman¡¯s voice called from the waiting room. ¡°Mr. Krelig? Are you in?¡± I glanced at the calendar on the desk to confirm there was nothing scheduled for today. The fact that it was on the wrong month didn¡¯t matter at the moment. I grabbed my latest second hadn¡¯t sports jacket from the back of my desk chair and walked past Walter. ¡°Excuse me.¡± The slender young woman held two cups from a local coffee shop and was captivated that walls of the waiting area were lined with overflowing bookcases. The contents of which was a concern for my plumbing problems second only to the furniture. If the leak got worse, the books would be difficult to replace if they were ruined. Without looking at me, she said, ¡°That¡¯s a lot of books.¡± ¡°Can I help you?¡± She turned, revealing her face, and said, ¡°I know it¡¯s early, but I was hoping I could get to you before you had any appointments.¡± Walter laughed without modesty. The woman had long, straight brown hair, and sunshine radiated from her face, but I recognized a familiar gloom to her voice. She handed me one of the cups. ¡°I brought you some coffee too. If I remember correctly, you drink it black.¡± I nodded my head, trying to force a memory that wouldn¡¯t surface. It was an effort that I failed to conceal. ¡°You don¡¯t remember me, do you?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t place you, if that¡¯s any different.¡± ¡°I¡¯m Igraine, Avalon¡¯s roommate. From, you know¡­¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Wow, you¡¯ve changed!¡± I said with too much enthusiasm. The last time I had seen her, she had been struggling with insomnia and hadn¡¯t left her apartment in months. She smiled with ease when before it took considerable effort. ¡°Amazing what some sleep, decent food, and much needed self-care can do for a person.¡± ¡°It¡¯s only been, what, six weeks?¡± ¡°Closer to six months.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t recognize you.¡± Walter crept into our conversation. ¡°You hired this ghost doctor?¡± he asked with heavy skepticism. ¡°Not really. Um, is your ceiling ok?¡± ¡°Any time a ceiling is on the floor, it is not ok,¡± I responded and then looked at Walter, who gave me a vacant stare. I nodded in the direction of the door to the hallway out of the office. He massaged his jaw. ¡°Ya ya ya. I¡¯ll go check the unit above,¡± and then made his way to the door. ¡°On the way there, could you¡± ¡ªWalter slammed the door¡ª¡°turn off the water?¡± Igraine took in the scene and said, ¡°Hope you don¡¯t lose your deposit over this.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not worried.¡± Have to put up a deposit to lose one. ¡°What brings you into my office?¡± Six months ago, I was hired by her roommate¡¯s grandmother to find out what paranormal trouble her granddaughter Avalon claimed to be in and what it would take to get her out. The case was tragic. Avalon was in over her head. And she wasn¡¯t alone. As her roommate, Igraine had unwittingly gotten tangled up in the whole mess as well. Avalon was compelled to do a terrible thing to satisfy a debt for casting a dark magic spell, and the two of us helped undo it. Or at least we tried. In the end, Avalon had vanished without a trace. Presumed dead by the two of us. I had left Igraine my business card and said if she ever needed a friend that she could call. I probably should have emphasized the word ¡°call,¡± but drop-in meetings work well too. She moved a stack of books that were taking up a spot on one of the old green leather seats and then sat down. The facade of warmth faded from her face. She fell back into the tired and frustrated person I had originally met. I considered all the things I could do to put her at ease, even smiling, but nothing could change her mood. She had been hurt in a way no one understood, including herself. ¡°I can¡¯t do it, Viktor. I need to move out of the apartment.¡± ¡°What¡¯s keeping you from doing that?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t afford a place on my own. Avalon¡¯s family is still covering the rent for some reason.¡± Avalon had met with her grandmother and requested this arrangement in the event of her disappearance, but it seems no one had told Igraine. She continued, ¡°And I haven¡¯t worked in ages, so I have this gap on my resume because¡­¡± she struggled for the words. I offered, ¡°You were taking care of Avalon.¡± ¡°Taking care¡± was a polite and roundabout way to side-step her paranormal trauma. ¡°I can¡¯t move in with any of my friends or family because they all think I¡¯m nuts.¡± ¡°Did you tell them about¡­¡± The polite words didn¡¯t come to me in time, before there was banging on the pipes in the ceiling (presumably Walter at work). I waited to hear a different rhythm of the water dripping, but nothing happened. Igraine picked the conversation back up. ¡°I didn¡¯t tell my family the details. I started alluding to what had happened, but each time they looked at me like I was so strange. Like I needed help. Serious help.¡± We heard a muffled swear from Walter, and then the steady drip became a small and thankfully brief waterfall that splashed on my floor. It was followed by the return of the drip, which had resumed its original pace. I sighed and rubbed my temples, trying to focus on our conversation. I could check on the books later. ¡°Do you want to go back to your old life?¡± I asked with misplaced frustration that Igraine thought was directed at her but didn¡¯t get upset over. ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t think I can.¡± For an instant I thought I could be helpful. I knew a person who worked with people in Igraine¡¯s situation. My stomach made a terrible twist as I remembered who the person was. I kept silent. Igraine continued, ¡°I need a new life, but don¡¯t know where to start.¡± ¡°Dammit,¡± I muttered under my breath and shook my head. Igraine is exactly the type of client Dolly looks for. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡°Sorry, the leak is distracting me,¡± I lied. Walter walked back into the office, rubbing his jaw. ¡°Well, that ghost of yours really worked a number on the pipes,¡± he said. Igraine asked, ¡°This place is haunted?¡± I looked directly at Walter, who was watching me like a hawk, hoping I¡¯d tell her that it was. ¡°No, the office isn¡¯t haunted.¡± Walter¡¯s jaw moved around in an angry dance, before it calmed down and he said, ¡°I need some things from the warehouse. Be back this afternoon. Maybe tomorrow.¡± ¡°Tomorrow! What could take so long?¡± Walter shrugged and simply said, ¡°Founding Day.¡± Of course, one of the days on the calendar I forget exist the moment it¡¯s over and surprised by every year when it reemerges. Igraine asked, ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s like New Year¡¯s Eve and St Patrick¡¯s Day had a problem child and they shipped the kid to New Carissimi.¡± ¡°Wait, that was the big thing last year? It happens every year?! I thought we won the Super Bowl or something.¡± Walter spoke atypically fast to Igraine as he packed up the last of his things. ¡°Super Bowl is in February¡± ¡°World Series or whatever. God, that parade was so obnoxious last year.¡± Walter was one foot out the door when I resigned to the fate of the leak in the ceiling and said, ¡°Could you at least get a bucket for the drip?¡± He slammed the door behind him. There was a brief moment where we both stared at the closed door waiting for some kind of response. When it was clear none was coming, Igraine asked, ¡°Did he not hear you?¡± ¡°No, he most certainly did.¡± ¡°How can you tell?¡± ¡°Because he slammed the door.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying if he hadn¡¯t heard you he would have closed it gently?¡± I nodded. ¡°You have quite the effect on people.¡± My mind jumped back to Dolly. ¡°You have no idea,¡± I replied. ¡°Come on, give me a little credit, I have some idea. I mean, I¡¯m pretty sure I threw a coffee mug at you, or hit you with a notebook or something.¡± ¡°Your point?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t throw things or hit people. That¡¯s not who I am. I knew you for like a day and¡ª¡± ¡°I know someone who can help you,¡± I blurted out. ¡°What?¡± I took a moment to get a clear head before continuing. Igraine was right. I frustrate people, and just because Dolly was mad at me didn¡¯t mean she would take it out on Igraine. I spoke in an even tone almost as slow as Walter. ¡°Her name is Dolly. She''s what I would call a ¡®post paranormal life consultant.¡¯¡± ¡°A what now?¡± ¡°She helps people return to their lives after a paranormal encounter.¡± ¡°Does it work?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t know. Dolly and I haven¡¯t been on speaking terms for a long time.¡± ¡°How long?¡± There was no point in lying. ¡°Fifteen years.¡± That earned a suspicious expression. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me that way, you said yourself I have an effect on people.¡± ¡°Is there anyone you haven¡¯t pissed off.¡± ¡°The only ones on that list are people I haven¡¯t met yet.¡± Igraine laughed, and a smile returned to her face. ¡°How do you know she¡¯s still doing this?¡± ¡°I might not know every paranormal professional in the city, but I know of them.¡± I paused. She seemed interested and I wanted to go on. ¡°But you¡¯re not here to know more about that type of stuff.¡± I pulled up Dolly¡¯s number on my phone, which I had never called or received a call from. In fact, I wasn¡¯t sure why I had gone through the trouble of entering it in the first place. ¡°Here¡¯s her number. Just don''t believe anything she tells you about me.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because Dolly is my ex-wife.¡± II. The light in Igraine¡¯s eyes gave away her private enjoyment of the new information that I was at one time, a long time ago, married. She couldn¡¯t stop smiling while she entered Dolly¡¯s contact info into her phone. It was as if her mind was celebrating, but her smile made it clear that the party was invite only. Her innocent gesture tugged at my doubts. I was uncomfortable sending anyone to Dolly for help, especially someone who came to me looking for assistance. But more than that, I was bothered with the realization that Dolly could be helpful, at all. Dolly¡¯s career choice was weirder than my own. But I get it. Becoming a post-paranormal life consultant was her way of getting back at me after I dragged her so far into this life that there was no escape. Before she met me, she hadn¡¯t seen anything paranormal, and she just wanted to go back to the way things were when the world made sense to her. The only successful step she made on that journey was leaving me. She couldn¡¯t figure out that next step, so she decided to dedicate her life to help others return to what society considered everyday life, in hopes of one day finding it for herself. I told myself one more time that it made sense to volunteer Dolly¡¯s information, but that didn¡¯t straighten out any of the knots my gut had twisted into. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It isn¡¯t right that the world rejects what people have experienced. On some level, the world needs to change, but that¡¯s not going to happen on its own. I¡¯m not going to put that burden on Igraine. She can figure it out herself if she¡¯s so inclined. I wished her luck and followed her out of the office on my mission to find a bucket to catch the water that was stubborn enough to continue dripping. Igraine didn¡¯t waste time and dialed Dolly while we walked down the hallway. The volume on her phone was set to obnoxious, and it was possible Igraine had put it on speaker in order to poke fun at me. I stopped at the maintenance closet by the staircase and waved good-bye. If the day went well for Igraine, we might never cross paths again. While I presumed that Avalon had not survived her ordeal, I had not given up on finding a witness who could explain what had happened. If Dolly could successfully readjust Igraine, then she¡¯d never have that closure if I uncovered the truth. But there were no guarantees that I¡¯d uncover anything either. I couldn¡¯t ask her to hold out for something that may never come. Up from the stairwell, I could hear Dolly¡¯s overworked southern drawl, ¡°Who did you say referred me?¡± The voice of my ex put a steel rod in my spine. I reconsidered my immediate need for a bucket. The pot from my coffee maker could do just fine, even if it meant I couldn¡¯t brew any for a while. The rest of the story is all second-hand, but most of it checked out when I ran it by witnesses and the Butcher. The parts of the story that couldn¡¯t be confirmed are second only to the ones I embellished. III. Dolly agreed to meet Igraine for breakfast later that morning at Bunny¡¯s Bright & Right Breakfast Caf¨¦, a trendy morning place downtown where obsessive morning people like to harvest rays of sunshine and talk about how they¡¯re better than the rest of us. A bit too energetic for my tastes, and most of the locals too, who simply call the place ¡°Bunny¡¯s.¡± Igraine was the first of the two to arrive. Bunny¡¯s greeted her with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and the sight of perky perma-smiles. A bell over the door announced her arrival. The walls had a chunky grain texture covered in chipper yellow paint. Replicas of old knickknacks nailed to the walls next to black-and-white photographs gave the two-year-old caf¨¦ a fresh vintage feel that corporate chains aspire to evoke. Bunny¡¯s was full but not crowded, loud but not noisy enough to drown out jingling from the bell over the entrance. It was late for their patrons, and more people were finishing their meal than starting one. Everyone seemed to be in their Founding Day red, white, and gold. And toting their new plastic New Carissimi flags with the same color scheme. Predominately red, some white and gold accents. The red is a specific shade named ¡°Beloved Red,¡± and the gold is used to portray a pincer, which originated from the shape of the New Carissimi coast-line. Igraine¡¯s only two choices were a booth that offered some privacy or a table that would have been better used in a kindergarten classroom. And since she wasn¡¯t five years old, she slid into the booth and had an eye on the door. Waiting for Dolly. She double-checked that the parade route did not go through the street Bunny¡¯s was on, but it was close to the staging area for the start, and she could catch glimpses of people in their costumes running to find their assigned locations. The parade wouldn¡¯t start for another half hour. She¡¯d be stuck here for a while, so she considered ordering a larger meal, skipping lunch, then having an early dinner. She had skipped breakfast, and it didn¡¯t take much effort to convince herself to order a larger meal. The next few patrons who walked into Bunny¡¯s didn¡¯t pause to look at the tables. They weren¡¯t meeting anyone but their cup of overpriced coffee. One of them carried a folding chair for the parade. Igraine halfheartedly flipped through the menu. Bunny¡¯s wasn¡¯t a chain, but you wouldn¡¯t be able to tell that by the menu. They renamed standard dishes with nonsensical nicknames that appealed to children and adults who were convinced that adulthood was something that could be escaped. All the while Bunny¡¯s purchased their food from the same vendor as every chain restaurant in the city. A server showed up to wish her a fantastic morning and drop off a pitcher of lemon water. He poured her a glass and asked, ¡°Just you?¡± ¡°No, one more.¡± The server poured a second glass and asked, ¡°Would you like some coffee to go with your fantastic day?¡± It was a relatively benign question, albeit phrased in an unusual way, that Igraine needed a moment to consider. During her ordeal, she had wrestled with a sleeping disorder. Getting that part of her life under control involved cutting out caffeine. According to everything she read, a cup of joe was safe for her to drink as long as it was consumed in the morning. Even though she knew this, her doubts still had their grip on her. ¡°No thanks,¡± she said, then added, ¡°not this morning.¡± She was trying to find a Denver omlet on the menu when the bell at the front door chimed ten times louder than it had since Igraine arrived. Taking up the entrance was a short woman with a smile brimming with superiority, an enormous head of blonde hair flowing onto a red business suit covering a conservative white top. The suit¡¯s red was a shade off from the Beloved Red, as it was something Dolly wore during the year, while everyone else was wearing garb they only wore one day a year. A white leather purse draped over her right forearm, and her left hand rested on her hip as she scanned the room. This was a person in search of a punching bag, and Igraine hoped this wasn¡¯t Dolly. But her hopes were crushed as Dolly Decorah-Dawlton marched over to the booth. In a gentle southern twang, she asked, ¡°Miss Boniver?¡± extending her hand. ¡°That¡¯s me.¡± Igraine shook her hand without standing up. Fighting her instinct to ask if Dolly was really my ex-wife. Dolly sat down across from her, pulled her phone out of her purse, and placed it on the table. She opened their conversation with, ¡°Well, I have to say there is a first time for everything. Never thought I¡¯d be getting a referral from Viktor Krelig. That man is about as sour as a pickled lemon.¡± The only thing Igraine could manage to say with a straight face was, ¡°It certainly is an odd set of circumstances.¡± Dolly asked if she had ordered yet, and when Igraine said no, she took it as a cue for small talk. Which Dolly treats as an endurance sport. How do you like living in New Cari? How long have you lived here? Do you have any plans for Founding Day? Are you going to change before the parade? Isn¡¯t sunshine amazing? Don¡¯t you wish there was more sunshine so there would be more birds chirping? During the interrogation, Dolly¡¯s phone sounded an obnoxious ringtone, and she would let it go longer than it needed to, before swiping it to voicemail. Igraine answered Dolly¡¯s questions with direct answers until finally it made more sense for her to ask Dolly a question. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°What part of the South are you from?¡± The phone rang again, and she spoke to it as if the person on the other end could hear her. ¡°Well, darling, I¡¯m going to have to put you on silent now,¡± then turned to Igraine and asked, ¡°What was that you were saying?¡± Igraine repeated her question. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m not from the South.¡± Igraine¡¯s jaw dropped, but before she could ask a question Dolly¡¯s phone interrupted. This time it vibrated and rattled the table. It had almost been as loud as the ring-tone. Dolly shoved it in her purse to muffle the sound. Igraine wondered if Dolly really knew how to silence her phone. She put that aside because she really wanted to know why Dolly was speaking with an accent. She was trying to formulate a tactful way of asking what Dolly was trying to pull when the server arrived to take their order. ¡°Let¡¯s see, I¡¯ll have the Walla Walla Waffles,¡± Dolly ordered. ¡°That¡¯s a fantastic selection.¡± Igraine couldn¡¯t find the clever name for regular food, so she ordered, ¡°Two eggs over medium.¡± The server stopped as he was writing the order and stared at her. ¡°I¡¯m not sure we have those.¡± ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡± ¡°Oh, darling,¡± Dolly interjected. ¡°She¡¯ll have a Double Cloudy Morning¡± and made a pouty face. ¡°Would you like Oinks-ies or Squeals-ies with that?¡± Igraine guessed, ¡°Bacon?¡± Dolly interpreted, ¡°Oinks-ies.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a fantastic choice! What a fantastic table.¡± As the server spun around, Dolly celebrated, ¡°Best morning ever!¡± And when he was out of earshot, she stiffened up, ¡°Alright now, down to business. You want your life back, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I guess so,¡± said Igraine, who was still caught up on how she could have possibly known that Oinks-ies was bacon. ¡°Did Viktor rob it from you?¡± Igraine had not been giving Dolly her full attention as she was wondering if Squeals-ies was code for sausage. ¡°What?! No,¡± she responded. ¡°It¡¯s ok, you can tell me, darling. I know from personal experience, that man is about as useful as a storm drain.¡± Igraine hesitated, recognizing that storm drains serve a purpose and are useful, but didn¡¯t bother to correct Dolly. ¡°No, he helped as much as he could.¡± ¡°Viktor Krelig was helpful?¡± ¡°He tried his hardest.¡± ¡°But let me guess, it didn¡¯t go according to plan?¡± ¡°Look, I don¡¯t feel comfortable talking about what I went through. Could we just talk about how I can readjust?¡± ¡°Of course, I offer a few services, but it all boils down to the three rules for returning to a normal life after a paranormal experience.¡± She sipped her lemon water and continued on. ¡°Deny, deny and deny.¡± If Igraine had any ambition to play poker professionally, now would have been the time she would have realized that she wasn¡¯t cut out for it. ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± she shot back. ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s your advice?¡± ¡°Denial is not just a river in Egypt, sweetie. It¡¯s also a tried and true coping mechanism. And I am the only one who will be able to help you embrace it.¡± ¡°Is this how you get through the day? I can¡¯t deny what I went through. The things I saw. Everything I did. Had to do.¡± ¡°Think about it. If you deny the experience enough times, the people around will believe you, and eventually you¡¯ll believe them.¡± Igraine was regretting not ordering the coffee earlier. She would have liked to have been sharper. ¡°Does Viktor know about your approach?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t had a good reason to talk to that man in over fifteen years, and I¡¯m not looking for one.¡± As much as she didn¡¯t like this, Igraine knew that Dolly was her last choice on a very short list. ¡°Has it worked for you?¡± Dolly smiled. ¡°I have several happy customers.¡± ¡°But what about you?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need denial, because I¡¯ve accepted that this is who I am now. I¡¯m the person who helps people forget all the scary stuff. I suffer, Miss Boniver, so others don¡¯t have to.¡± Despite all the red flags Dolly was waving in front of her, Igraine still held out hope that she could really help. ¡°Can I have a referral from one of your clients?¡± Dolly shook her head. ¡°Out of the question. They don¡¯t want to be reminded that there was a time in their life when they needed my services.¡± ¡°How many clients do you have right now?¡± ¡°Just you. But over the years I¡¯ve helped eight people readjust to normal life.¡± There weren¡¯t enough numbers for any reliable math, but the equation Igraine worked out was that Dolly¡¯s services were either really expensive or this was a side gig. Igraine asked, ¡°How much do you charge?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a percentage of your future earnings.¡± ¡°Wait, like a talent agent?¡± ¡°Precisely. That¡¯s the line of work I was in before Viktor¡­ Well, you don¡¯t want to talk about him.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say¡ª¡± Dolly reached across and put a finger over Igraine¡¯s lips. The effect was that Igraine¡¯s body froze from the awkwardness of the situation. ¡°And I can understand why you don¡¯t. I don¡¯t want to talk about him either.¡± ¡°You seem like you want to talk about him,¡± Igraine said while Dolly¡¯s finger was still over her lips. She removed her hand and wiped it on a napkin. ¡°Did he tell you about how he ruined my perfectly ordinary life?¡± This was spiraling out of control. ¡°You know what, you were right. I don¡¯t want to talk about him. So let''s move on. What about this percentage stuff?¡± Dolly sighed as if not telling the story of our love and its subsequent demise was depriving someone of a rich and insightful history. ¡°It''s simple really. You will never earn a respectable living without becoming normal again. So, by increasing your earning potential, I am entitled to a cut of that potential.¡± ¡°For my entire life?¡± ¡°No, just your professional life.¡± ¡°But what about your clients not wanting to be reminded about their previous life?¡± ¡°To them I¡¯m a career coach. It¡¯s actually what I do most of the time. But I will be honest with you, this is far more lucrative.¡± Igraine hated this. If there was magic, couldn¡¯t it be as simple as there being a magic spell to forget it all? She looked at the door and considered leaving. If she walked out, there were no other options. There was no harm in asking more questions. ¡°Before I sign on for anything, I want some assurances.¡± ¡°Fine, but you¡¯ll have to spill the beans on what you went through.¡± ¡°My roommate was caught between two curses. One caused her to die every night and the other kept her alive long enough for her to fulfill a terrible obligation. After the second spell was completed, she went missing. We don''t think she survived the second curse.¡± Dolly stood up stiff but couldn¡¯t help trembling. She whispered in rage. ¡°Viktor. I just knew I shouldn¡¯t have gotten involved with someone he referred.¡± ¡°What did I do?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not normal. Not even for abnormal.¡± ¡°What kind of people do you normally help?¡± ¡°People who think they¡¯ve seen a ghost.¡± ¡°Wait, you do this for people who haven''t had a real paranormal experience?¡± ¡°Honey, I don¡¯t judge people. I help them.¡± ¡°Why would a paranormal investigator send you someone who didn¡¯t have a real paranormal experience?¡± ¡°To try and get me back. Well, it won¡¯t happen.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a fraud.¡± ¡°What are you going to do, report me to the better business bureaucrats? We both know they won¡¯t take you seriously.¡± Dolly stopped a moment, settled herself down, and reversed course. ¡°Look. I don¡¯t deal with curses, alright? Sorry, I can¡¯t help you.¡± Dolly stood up, looked down at Igraine with a shade of disappointment, and walked away. ¡°There goes my last chance,¡± Igraine mumbled and then reached for a coffee cup out of habit only to frown at its emptiness. IV. Questioning reality was something Igraine had done so many times she should have been more comfortable with it. Instead, she stared at the empty bench where Dolly had been sitting. Had her life become more complicated? Was there any way she could put her life together? Some way she could feel more like her old self, without causing more harm? The waiter arrived and set down Dolly¡¯s order and then Igraine¡¯s, saying, ¡°Here¡¯s your Cloudy Morning with Oinks-ies on the side.¡± Igraine blinked out of her confusion and looked up at him. He was waiting with his pad out and his pen ready. ¡°Is there there was anything else you¡¯ll be needing?¡± ¡°No thanks, two meals is plenty for me.¡± The comment flew over his head, and he replied with a chipper, ¡°Okay then, have a fantastic day!¡± and tore the bill from the pad and placed it on the table. She picked it up and mumbled, ¡°Sunshine and freaking rainbows.¡± The bill was snatched out of her hand, and Dolly slid back into her vacant spot. On instinct, Igraine started to object, but Dolly beat her to the punch whispering, ¡°I¡¯ve got that.¡± Dolly slouched down, trying to keep her big hair below the booth¡¯s tall back. Then she added, ¡°But first I need you to do me a favor.¡± Igraine raised her eyebrows, but otherwise held still. ¡°A man is going to come in here¡ª¡± The bell above the door jingled and Dolly shook her head, whispering, ¡°Don¡¯t look.¡± But Dolly¡¯s earlier antics lost her credibility with Igraine, who ignored the command. In the doorway was a muscular man with a short untrimmed beard, and he was about as angry as a hungry bear whose meal had been stolen. If Dolly hadn¡¯t suddenly reappeared, Igraine would have assumed that the man¡¯s anger was caused by his uncontrollable sweating. But that was also because he was wearing an outfit and layers that were out of season for this time of year. ¡°Is it him?¡± Dolly whispered. Igraine shrugged her shoulders as if to say, ¡°How should I know?¡± but then lifted the empty coffee cup to her lips and took a pretend sip, saying, ¡°I think so.¡± Dolly winced. The man paced over towards them. His heavy boots sounded like a slow-pounding hammer. Dolly picked now of all times to brief Igraine. ¡°His name is Burton Maurer¡±. He stopped at the table across from their booth where a man and a woman were enjoying their coffee. They were old enough not to be mistaken for children but not old enough to have any gray strands of hair. Burton asked the man, ¡°Is this chair taken?¡± It took a moment for the pair to realize that what he was really asking was, ¡°Is your chair taken?¡± The woman across from him stood up and grabbed her purse and said, ¡°Here, you can have mine.¡± Burton kept his eyes on the man and said, ¡°That¡¯s not the one I want.¡± Then he moved in closer to the stranger and said, ¡°I want to know if anyone is using this chair.¡± In a broken voice, the man said, ¡°Fine. Take it.¡± He stood up, and he and his date left Bunny¡¯s. Burton slid the chair up to the end of Igraine and Dolly¡¯s booth. Igraine saw a familiar weariness in him. He hadn¡¯t slept in days. And then she recognized that he hadn¡¯t bathed in twice as long. Burton slammed his fist on the table, making the coffee cups rattle and both women jump in their seats. Igraine remained motionless as she tried to take stock of the situation. The man was clinging to a psychological edge, and letting go was becoming increasingly appealing to him. For a moment, Igraine saw a bit of her own struggles in him. But she handled hers in solitude, while he was searching for someone he could unleash his pain on. The man was going to snap. He was going to swing his fists and he wasn¡¯t going to miss. All he needed was a reason to make him feel good during the coming rage. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Dolly started talking her way out of the situation. ¡°Burton Maurer! It¡¯s been ages¡ª¡± Burton cut her off with his gruff voice, ¡°¡ªI said!¡± and then slammed his fist down again on the table. If the disturbance had gone unnoticed by the other patrons the first time, it was unavoidable now. The man was going to make the whole place suffer if he didn¡¯t get his way. A few patrons rushed out the door, and some of the wait-staff walked urgently back into the kitchen. Igraine scanned the room trying to find someone calling the police, but couldn¡¯t see it. Dolly said immediately, ¡°I apologize, Mr. Maurer. Is there something we can help you with?¡± Igraine threw a dirty look toward Dolly. She was not warm to the ¡°we¡± part of Dolly¡¯s ploy. This man¡¯s fuse was lit, and it would only take a few moments before everyone saw how explosive he could be. While she wanted to help Dolly get away from danger, she also didn¡¯t want to be a human shield. He looked at Dolly and said with a playful grin, ¡°Watcha talking about?¡± With his attention turned toward Dolly, Igraine considered the options she had to defend herself. The knife was an appealing thought, but she knew the blade might not be any sharper than the handle. The fork, however, could give her a chance to land a quick stab before bolting away. Maybe she wouldn¡¯t need to. Igraine¡¯s thoughts went back to the police. Someone must be calling, or has called. They¡¯re on their way. They¡¯ll be here any second. Why aren¡¯t the police here? Dolly hadn¡¯t answered his question, and he made it clear he wasn¡¯t going anywhere. He picked up the fork Igraine had been staring at and stabbed one of her eggs. He lifted the runny mess off her plate and put it halfway into his mouth. He chewed as the yoke ran down his chin and over his beard. Igraine suspected this act was his warm up. He wanted his victims good and scared before he attacked. As much as Igraine didn¡¯t want it to work, she knew it was. Dolly¡¯s voice shook when she said, ¡°My friend here was asking me about a career change.¡± Igraine wondered how someone who earned her living through dishonesty could be such a terrible liar. Burton picked up Dolly¡¯s coffee and dumped it on Igraine¡¯s plate dousing the last egg. Igraine ran through the details of what was happening, preparing for what she was going to tell the police. But would they believe her? She already had one incident with them that had not gone well. They¡¯d put more effort into convincing her she was delusional than taking her statement. But it wasn¡¯t like every cop in the city knew about the incident. It wouldn¡¯t matter. For the present situation the police just needed to stop the problem from escalating. Her history would have nothing to do with preventing them from intervening. ¡°You know what I dislike more than a lie?¡± Burton¡¯s ability to be subtle was about as good as Dolly¡¯s was to lie. Igraine couldn¡¯t wait for the police any longer and moved to leave the booth. Burton blocked her exit. ¡°Not so fast there.¡± Dolly attempted to intervene. ¡°She came to me for help. What was I supposed to do?¡± ¡°If you were smart, you would have done nothing. Even better, you could have told the truth,¡± he said, still blocking Igraine¡¯s exit. What truth? That magic exists. That curses exist. That if you start speaking the truth, no one would look at your the same. That knowing too much of the truth would change you. Whatever truth he was referring to, it couldn¡¯t be any of those. And the way he was on the cusp of a violent outbreak, it couldn¡¯t be any truth she wanted to know. Igraine said, ¡°I know the truth. You can¡¯t tell me what it is.¡± ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong,¡± replied Burton who moved uncomfortably close to her, ¡°The truth is that whatever you think you saw, it¡¯s all in your head. And the thing about the truth is, anyone can speak it.¡± A virtue held by some of history¡¯s most dangerous sociopaths. Dolly replied, ¡°Burton, what¡¯s it going to take for you to let us walk out of here?¡± Burton did not break the lock he had on Igraine¡¯s eyes. ¡°How much cash you carrying?¡± Dolly¡¯s face had long since lost its cheerfulness, and now it lost its optimism. ¡°Burton, I have to pay my rent.¡± It was an appeal to humanity that couldn¡¯t have gone more wrong. His eyes lit up. Rent wasn¡¯t cheap in the city. The prospect of a windfall added some energy to his voice, but did not soften his mood. He replied, ¡°You know the rules. If you want to keep your money, then find a better way to earn a living. One that doesn¡¯t have so many¡­ hazards.¡± Igraine was witnessing a robbery. As much as Dolly had rubbed her the wrong way in the short time she¡¯d known her, she didn¡¯t deserve to be robbed in broad daylight. As Dolly reached into her purse, Igraine blurted out, ¡°Don¡¯t. He can¡¯t hurt us in front of all these people.¡± Burton laughed, and Dolly gave Igraine a disappointed gaze. He motioned for Dolly to continue to retrieve the cash from her purse. ¡°Why don¡¯t you educate your friend, Dolly.¡± ¡°Igraine, no one will stop him, and no one corroborate our¡ª¡± He slammed his fist again. ¡°¡ªyour story.¡± ¡°But the police?¡± asked Igraine. Burton replied, ¡°They¡¯re not coming.¡± ¡°That¡¯s insane, Why?¡± She still didn¡¯t understand the amount of danger she was in. Burton answered, ¡°Because you¡¯re the one who¡¯s insane. Talking about ghosts and magic as if all that make-believe garbage were real.¡± Igraine did not appreciate that her life, as disturbed as it had been, was considered garbage by anyone. ¡°Here¡¯s everything, Burton.¡± Dolly slammed a stack of cash on the table. At least three months¡¯ worth of rent was held together by a few well-worn rubber bands. ¡°Well,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s my lucky day.¡± Then he turned to Igraine, the egg yolk still dripping from his face, and said, ¡°Remember, I saved you from being swindled from this con artist.¡± Dolly¡¯s phone vibrated again. He rolled his eyes and then signaled for her to get up, as his attention was now captured on counting his prize money. Before Igraine knew what had happened, Dolly had stood up and pulled her along, and out the door of Bunny¡¯s Bright & Right Breakfast Caf¨¦. V. They were out on the street before Igraine managed to get any words out. The late summer humidity hit her before an oncoming tuba player did. ¡°Watch it, lady,¡± he said as he ran off to find his marching band. She was about to issue him a stern ¡°WTF! You¡¯re the one who¡¯s running with a tuba!¡± when the breeze off the ocean brushed lightly against her cheeks. It didn¡¯t smell good, but it momentarily swept away the sticky heat. It was just enough to give her a moment of clarity until she remembered she was standing closer to danger than she was to safety. Panic began to rise. She looked around for Dolly, and almost lost her within the crowd of people dressed in red trying to get to the parade grounds in time. It was her enormous blonde hair that gave her away. Igraine sprinted to catch up and called out to her. Dolly straightened up a bit, but didn¡¯t change her pace or even look back. Dolly crossed an intersection with the crowd, and the light changed to Don¡¯t Walk, before Igraine could follow. She promptly stopped at the corner as the light changed and car traffic flowed. All the drivers were eager to get out of the area before the parade started and cut them off from their destinations. The farther Dolly walked away, the faster Igraine¡¯s feeling of abandonment grew. She fought back, determined that whatever service or assistance Dolly had to offer, she no longer wanted it. She wanted to let Dolly walk away. But Igraine did not like unanswered questions, and she had too many for her to stay put. She bolted into traffic without looking, causing an oncoming car to slam on their brakes. At the sound of the screeching tires, she put out her hand as if she were capable of stopping it. The car halted inches in front of her. She simply said, ¡°Sorry¡± before running off. If the driver swore at her, he didn¡¯t waste time lowering the window so she could hear it. Igraine pushed past several people and almost took a cheap plastic flag to her eye before she grabbed Dolly¡¯s arm. ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± Dolly finally turned around and was ready to swing her purse, but thought better of it in the crowd. Her face had lost the smile and held a tight frustration in its place. But the sense of superiority was still there. That never went away. Igraine loosened her grip on Dolly¡¯s arm, and Dolly yanked and reversed the hold, leaving Igraine bewildered. Dolly pulled her forward to keep pace with the crowd. Dolly asked, ¡°Remember my first rule of coping?¡± ¡°Denial?¡± ¡°Good, you¡¯re a quick study. You¡¯ll do fine.¡± Dolly released her hold on Igraine and picked up the pace. Igraine waited for a signal from Dolly to follow her, but there was none. ¡°Wait!¡± she squeezed through the crowd after Dolly. ¡°I just want to know what that was all about.¡± One of the paradegoers had started blasting music from a local group that had made it big years ago. The crowd erupted in cheers. Dolly¡¯s response was diminished by the noise. ¡°Keep up and I¡¯ll let you know.¡± For being short, Dolly was fast. I think it¡¯s the muscle she builds up from the drag on her enormous hair. It¡¯s like natural resistance training. If you could call the glue used to keep her hair that size natural. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. They had reached the next intersection and the light was about to change against the pedestrians when Dolly set foot on the crosswalk. There was no way she would make it to the other side before it changed. This time Igraine followed. She caught up to Dolly again, who asked in a bitter tone, ¡°Viktor didn¡¯t tell you about the conspiracy theorists?¡± Igraine, who was almost out of breath, huffed, ¡°People who believe in aliens and stuff?¡± Dolly abruptly turned left away from the crowd onto the walkway which was practically clear by New Cari standards. She slowed a bit, but was still clearly rushing, and said, ¡°No. People who have an interest in keeping the paranormal from being normal.¡± ¡°I think we¡¯re talking about two different types of conspiracy theorists.¡± ¡°I take back what I said about you being a quick study.¡± Igraine was a little hurt by Dolly¡¯s remark, but didn¡¯t interrupt her when she continued to speak. ¡°There are groups and organizations that try to suppress the stories of people like you.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have to ask Viktor about that. All I know is that there are a bunch of them.¡± ¡°More than that psychopath back there?¡± They approached a set of stairs descending into the subway, and Dolly took them. ¡°Yes... no. There are groups. Burton¡¯s just one member of a particularly violent group.¡± ¡°This is so weird.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t even get to the groups full of magic users and the ones filled with true believers like Burton.¡± Igraine opened her mouth to speak, but Dolly cut her off. ¡°No, a true believer isn¡¯t someone who believes in the paranormal. It¡¯s someone who believes the lie.¡± ¡°Wait, there are magic users and paranormal deniers working together?¡± They reached the turnstile, and Dolly swiped her card. But Igraine didn¡¯t have one and couldn¡¯t follow. Igraine shrugged her shoulders at Dolly, who gave a look that she would probably regret doing this and reached over the turnstile and swiped her card for Igraine. ¡°Thank you.¡± Dolly kept talking instead of acknowledging the bit of kindness she had just demonstrated. ¡°No. The mages and deniers work to the same goal in their own way. Never together. The groups like Burton¡¯s tend to have the word ¡®Truth¡¯ in their name.¡± Igraine¡¯s pace started to slow as she was processing all the new information, while Dolly followed the signs to the train with the bear logo, which was local shorthand for the stop at Library Market Square. Signs with the official name of 11th Street Station were covered in stickers. The more courteous graffiti artists made sure to use stickers with bears on them. They made their way to the platform just as the doors to the nearly empty train were getting ready to close. Dolly broke into an impressive stride, pulling even farther away from Igraine, saying, ¡°Gotta keep up if you want to hear more.¡± Igraine ran to catch up and watched Dolly step into the car only for the doors to start closing. She silenced the voice inside her that said it was too late to get on. She pushed her way through the narrowing gap of the closing doors. She had one foot planted in the car and was reaching out for something to stop her momentum when the door closed on her ankle. A buzzer sounded, and the doors released their grip on Igraine before shutting all the way. As Igraine was catching her breath, she waited for Dolly to continue speaking. But Dolly stared back in disbelief and said, ¡°You know, hun, you could have caught the next train.¡± ¡°Would you have waited?¡± Dolly shook her head and then walked back in the car. It seemed to Igraine that none of the seats were up to Dolly¡¯s standards. They were still scouting for a spot that was the optimal blend of clean and as far away from other passengers as she could get when Dolly continued on her explanation. ¡°The group Burton belongs to has this rule where if they catch you talking about something paranormal in public, they''ll harass or outright beat you until you give them the cash you have on them.¡± ¡°Sounds like a reason not to carry cash. Wait, why did you have so much cash on you?¡± Dolly pulled out a handkerchief and wiped a perfectly clean seat before occupying it. The seats were hard plastic, and no matter how light a person was, they always made a noise when someone sat down. Her hair was so full that had anyone been sitting in that space they would have had to move. Igraine sat down across from her without cleaning the seat first, and Dolly shuddered. Igraine reminded her that she had been asked a question. ¡°So, why were you carrying¡ª.¡± ¡°Shhh!¡± Dolly waved her down and whispered, ¡°I don¡¯t want anyone to think I¡¯m still carrying it.¡± Igraine gestured that she still hadn¡¯t answered the question. ¡°It was my protection money.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I pay protection to a magic user, and this is the type of thing he¡¯s supposed to protect me from.¡± ¡°So what will he do about it?¡± ¡°We¡¯re about to find out.¡± VI. The subway car rocked gently back and forth, and the only thing that could be heard over the rhythmic clicking of the wheels on the track was Igraine¡¯s stomach. She avoided Dolly¡¯s offended gaze and tried to shush the noises inside her. When she looked up, Dolly was still staring at her, expecting an explanation. Igraine defended, ¡°What? I never got a chance to eat at the Bright & Right Caf¨¦.¡± ¡°Bunny¡¯s,¡± Dolly corrected. ¡°Whatever, and then I had to chase you down. So, ya, my stomach¡¯s a little vocal at the moment.¡± ¡°Well, when we get off at our stop, you can go get food, while I talk to my contact.¡± ¡°So you can run away again? Stop trying to ditch me!¡± The words came out louder than Igraine had intended, and she surveyed the train car, but none of the scattered people seemed to care. Dolly spoke at a volume that required Igraine to lean in. ¡°This isn¡¯t your problem.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know this life. I¡¯ve got to learn how to protect myself and who to protect myself from.¡± Dolly¡¯s phone vibrated from inside her purse. Igraine nodded that she should take it. ¡°I¡¯ll just let it go to voicemail.¡± ¡°No, just take it now.¡± Dolly pulled out the phone and answered. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Hello, Sundrop¡­ Oh hold on now¡­ we need to get that donkey back in the hen house¡­¡± Igraine rolled her eyes at Dolly¡¯s made-up colloquialism and then closed them as the train picked up speed. There was no doubt that she was talking to a client, which meant she was lying. It was one thing for Igraine to hear the absurd takes from Dolly when she was the only person hearing them, but it was harder for her to listen to Dolly speak to someone who took them as fact. Igraine focused on the rocking motion of the car to help tune out Dolly¡¯s conversation. It only worked a little. Dolly was soothing the caller, but she eventually said, ¡°You¡¯re making as much sense as a meat pie in a chicken salad¡­ I can¡¯t talk right now, I¡¯m in a train¡­ yes, a train¡­ they have wi-fi in these things now¡­ look, I don¡¯t want to miss my stop, so just call back later. We¡¯ll figure it all out.¡± The moment it ended, Dolly continued on with Igraine as if she hadn¡¯t just been talking to someone else. ¡°So you¡¯re not looking to go back to a normal life? Sounds to me like you¡¯re giving up.¡± Igraine opened her eyes and sat up. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t deal with curses, and there is no way I can deny that every night I locked my roommate in a coffin and then anguished over whether or not she would be alive in the morning.¡± Her stomach growled again as if to offer a resounding ¡°Amen.¡± She choked up a bit and noticed Dolly was seeing if anyone on the nearly empty car was listening. She continued, ¡°I never got used to it. And now I learn there are like these people, bad guys or whatever, who can rob me in broad daylight without anyone to stop them or protect me?¡± She didn¡¯t know the right words, so she asked. ¡°So, how am I supposed to protect myself?¡± Dolly didn¡¯t respond. Igraine insisted, ¡°I need you to tell me.¡± ¡°Someone put a curse on your roommate. You knew there were bad actors. Ones that were much worse than Burton.¡± ¡°But I never saw them. She only told me they were some cult of magic users. I don''t even know what they called themselves. Wait. What if they come after me? Should I be worried about that?¡± Igraine could tell the conversation was making Dolly uncomfortable, but she wasn¡¯t going to back down or lower her voice. Dolly spoke softly. ¡°Did your roommate think you would be in trouble?¡± ¡°She never said anything.¡± ¡°Then, I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re probably going to be ok.¡± The train pulled into the station at Library Market Square and squealed to a halt. Dolly stood up and said, ¡°It''s our stop. The Bear¡¯s Den.¡±