Somebody Tell Aunt Tillie She's Dead (Toad Witch Series, Book One) (13 page)

The moonlight glinted off of a crystal casket inside the stone cottage. A voice, a whisper, traveling through the dream like a breeze…

“You can fight me all you want, witch, but you are mine. I have searched throughout time for you.”

As the black tide drew me closer to the casket, the lid of the casket slowly creaked open. I looked inside and screamed. The woman inside was me.

Chapter Fourteen

Sunday morning, I was so into my stake-out of Lasio’s apartment, (spying on her apartment through an opening in my patio blinds), I didn’t even notice Gus walking into my living room, carrying a box of Krispy Kremes and two lattes until he waived one under my nose.

“Smell… Coffee, good.”

I took the latte and waved him away.

“Mmmmm…” He bit into a donut and wafted it past my face. “Still warm. Sugar and caffeine. Everything one needs to soothe the savage beast.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to ignoring him. Sooner or later, Lasio would have to come out.

Finally, he shut my patio blind, cutting off my sight line. “
Hola, se–orita. Como esta
?”

“Don’t do that,” I hissed, quickly re-positioning the blinds. “You better hope she’s not watching. I will wring your neck if you screw this up.”

“Obsessed much? Did I mention Krispy Kremes and Coffee Bean? Your favorite? I can’t believe you’re turning down the nectar of the Gods, just to spy on your building manager.”

I grabbed a donut and crammed it into my mouth, just to shut him up. Then I washed it down with a big gulp of latte.

Big, big mistake.

My eyes bugged out, my tongue burned and I ran to the kitchen and spit the whole mess out into the sink.

“Goddamn, that was hot.” I turned on the cold water and stuck my tongue under the stream. As Gus turned to say something, I snapped, “Don’t look at me. Watch out the patio. Tell me if you see her.”

He obediently took over my position at the patio blind. “If I knew you were gonna chug it, I’d have gotten you an iced latte, goof. What’s your problem?”

I popped an ice cube out of the freezer and ran it over my tongue. “I couldn’t sleep. So I decided to have a yard sale. I’ve posted notices all over the internet.”

“Like she won’t notice it on the internet?”

“She doesn’t have a computer.”

“Really? I’ve heard of people like that, but I thought they were an urban legend.”

“She thinks they’re the work of the devil. She won’t let her kid have one either. They fight about it all the time.”

“Great. When do we commence the money-making?”

“As soon as Mrs. Holier-Than-Thou gets her butt out of here. She’s got church today. Keep your eyes on her apartment and tell me when you see her go. But don’t let her see you, because she’ll think we’re up to something and she won’t leave.”

Gus dutifully continued watching the courtyard through the blinds. “I know I haven’t been to church in awhile, but I don’t remember ‘
thou shalt not sell thy crap
‘ as being one of the amendments.”

“Commandments.” I corrected, filling a glass with ice and pouring the rest of my latte into it. “If she gets a look at what I’m selling, she’ll flip. She’ll call every priest in a twenty-mile radius to do an intervention. And then she’ll probably try to have me arrested.”

“Really? Well, that sounds promising. Anything I might be interested in?”

“Maybe.” I grabbed another Krispy Kreme and popped it into my mouth, savoring it slowly this time. “Man, these are good. You are an evil, evil man.”

“What? I got six for each of us. I thought that was pretty nice of me.”

“I’ll make sure my thighs write you a thank-you note.”

Gus licked warm frosting off his fingers, dismissing my concerns. “They’re glazed air. Air has no calories.”

An upstairs door opened and slammed shut.

“Finally!” I rushed over to the blinds, shoved Gus aside and peeked out. “If we didn’t have the fair, we could have done this yesterday.”

“It was Saturday. She went to church on Saturday?” Gus asked, looking over my shoulder.

“All weekend, every weekend. On Saturdays, her women’s group cleans the church, runs errands for the priest, that kind of thing. So everything’s ready for Sunday. Then Sunday, they have service all morning and a reception in the afternoon.”

Mrs. Lasio was in her finest dress and sensible shoes and gilded up to the eyeballs with gold jewelry. She clutched a tan handbag and slowly climbed down the stairs, followed by a mutinous-looking Lupe.

“And you know all this, how?” Gus asked.

“Lupe decided she wasn’t going to go anymore. Mrs. Lasio had a cow and they totally had it out with each other on the patio. I think Mamma Lasio’s been trying to hook her up with the priest. Or the priest’s brother. It was a little confusing.”

“How Thorn Birds of her.” He paused. “I thought priests were supposed to be celibate?”

“So did I. But according to Lupe, the guy is a raging queer. I thought Mamma Lasio was going to wash her mouth out with laundry detergent and pool water. This place has been like a soap opera ever since they moved in and I’m the one getting evicted.”

“Go figure,” he said, dryly. “So, assuming it’s the priest… Is he cute?”

“What do you care? He’s a priest.”

“Priests have needs.”

“And you think you could fill them?” I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I thought you were allergic to organized religion.”

“Hey! I’m a spiritual person. Spirituality is spirituality, regardless of the name of your God. Or Gods. Whatever.”

I snorted. I heard the iron gate closed behind Mrs. Lasio and Lupe. As soon as they were out of sight, I handed Gus a sheaf of flyers. “Quick. Plaster the neighborhood. And no dawdling. I’ll start setting up in the courtyard.”

Gus glanced at the flyer. “A Cauldron and Broom Sale. Catchy. You come up with this yourself?”

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep. Chop-chop. Time’s a wasting.” I said, pushing him out the door.

An hour later, Gus had the neighborhood papered and I had finished dragging everything I could live without, out into the courtyard. All the normal stuff, like furniture, books, CD’s, DVDs, as well as all the witchy accoutrements I could part with. Most of them had been gifts (a lot of them from Gus), but I figured he wouldn’t be too heartbroken. Besides the occult tchotchkes, there were wands, staffs, scrying mirrors, extra tarot card decks, animal bones from the Bone Room and a boar’s skull I had gotten on E-Bay, and which Gus promptly claimed as his own. I was going to keep the box of witchy stuff my mom had left behind, but other than that, I needed to majorly downsize, in case I wound up living in my car.

As word got around, people started trickling in. Soon, the courtyard was crowded with an interesting mix of tattooed, long-haired, body-pierced Goths and aging Hollywood wannabes looking for a supernatural boost over the competition.

Gus nudged me. “What’s the deal with Aunt Bee over there?”

I looked up. “Ellen Reese. She’s a hoot. She owns the gift shop over by Ventura and Colfax. When she wants something, she hangs her St. Anthony upside down. If that doesn’t work, she sacrifices a chicken in the light of the moon and serves it up at her church luncheon. You can bet she keeps that quiet.”

“Wow. And people say witches are bad.”

“Catholic Strega. Don’t mess with her. She has some big-time juju.”

“How do you know all this stuff?”

“I met her at last year’s Pagan Pride, after she had drunk a bottle of mead. She told me all about her special chicken salad.”

“Hey, have you thought about my suggestion? I emailed the owner and the job’s still open.”

I sighed. Gus had emailed me late last night, all excited about a job posting he’d found at Club Frack. “I am not getting a job as a stripper.”

“There’s good money in it. Especially while you’re still limber enough to kick your heels over your head.”

I ignored him and went back to selling off my life. No price too low.

By afternoon, everything had been sold, (for far less money than I had wanted to sell it for, but I sucked at negotiating), and I was making extra cash reading cards for people.

Suddenly, Mrs. Lasio and Lupe walked through the iron gate — much sooner than expected. I felt my heart lurch in my chest. Mrs. Lasio took one look at the courtyard and started screaming bloody murder.

While most of the people there would think nothing of facing off with demons, the wrath of Mrs. Lasio was more than they could take. That courtyard cleared out faster than a town square in a Godzilla movie.

I stormed into my apartment and slammed the door in Mrs. Lasio’s face.

“Mara, honey, I’m very upset right now.” The irate voice of my treacherous landlord.

“You’re not the only one.” I said, stirring macaroni into a pot of boiling water.

“What were you thinking?!”

“I don’t know, Lenny. Money, maybe? I’m being shoved out of my home on Friday. That’s what, five days away? So, sue me, but a yard sale just seemed logical.”

“And that’s exactly the problem, sugar. People suing me. I’m not insured for yard sales. For cripe’s sake, I’m barely insured for guests.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Use your head, sweet pea. I never thought anyone would have a yard sale in the building. Criminy, girl, there’s not even a yard to have a sale on. There’s just a few measly inches of pebbled deck surrounding a huge water hazard. And then you pull the fortune teller crap on top of it? Do you go out of your way to be difficult?!”

“That’s a cruddy thing to say.”

“I don’t know what else to make of it. I told you I’d take care of you and you turn around and kick me right in the Polygrips. Now Manuel isn’t speaking to me. He says you’re breaking God’s laws by trying to see the future.”

“But he’s fine with the whole “spilling his seed on barren ground” thing?”

A long silence from Lenny. Crap. The filter that was normally in place between my brain and my mouth seemed to be completely on the fritz.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Now, no more of that witchy stuff or I’ll be very upset.”

“Meaning you’ll call and yell?” It was like my mouth didn’t even belong to me anymore. I needed this call to end before I said anything else.

“Meaning I’ll change the locks and keep your deposit. Pull your act together and be the young lady I know you can be.”

He hung up just as the macaroni water bubbled over, splattering and hissing on the flame. I quickly turned off the gas. As I poured the macaroni through the strainer, steam rose up and covered the window over the sink.

The old woman from my nightmares appeared in the condensation, looking at me, sad beyond measure.

I was so startled, I almost dropped the strainer.

“It’s too late…”
a small voice whispered through my head.

“Too late for what?” I asked.

Chapter Fifteen

I spent the next two days packing up everything I wanted to keep. Everything else could go to Goodwill. Not that I had any idea where I was going yet, but I may as well be ready.

Wednesday, there was a thud at the front door, like someone kicking it. When I opened it, I could barely see Gus behind the stack of paper he was carrying. “You’ve got a wee bit of mail dearie,” he said, dropping it on the couch. “Man, your mail lady is tough.”

“That sweet little Chinese lady?”

“Sweet, my ass. And you’re on her shit list for letting the mail pile up.”

“It’s probably all junk. Or bills. Toss it.”

“No way. When I told her you weren’t actually out of town, you were just ignoring your mailbox, I got a twenty minute lecture on the evils of postal abuse. Mail delivery isn’t a right, it’s a privilege. So you’re going to open this crap like a responsible adult.”

“Bite me.”

He shot me a warning glance.

I sighed. “Sometimes, you can positively be a stick in the mud. What do you think about pizza?”

“Sure. Extra cheese, extra sausage, extra ‘shrooms. I’ll treat. After you open your mail.”

I speed-dialed the pizza place, idly sorting through the mail while I was on hold. “Junk, bill, ad, bill, magazine I’ve never subscribed to. Hey, what’s this?”

In the middle of all the junk mail was an envelope that looked like a real letter. Curious, I tore it open. As I pulled out the letter, a check fell to the floor.

Gus bent down, retrieved the check and gave a long, low whistle. “Toss it, huh? Oh ye of little faith.”