“All I want is a relationship with my mom that’s more than a series of status updates.” Emma panted in the heat as they walked along Undertown’s picturesque Main Street.
Viv took a long drink of her iced coffee. The ice sloshed around and glinted in the sunlight. “I thought things had improved between you two.”
“We’re on speaking terms again, sure, but what’s the point of speaking if you only talk about the weather? For heaven’s sake, I found my missing father. You’d think she’d want to talk about it, but she changes the subject. She’s avoiding my calls.”
“Didn’t you avoid her calls for like a month after she sent you his photo?”
“Whose side are you on?”
“I didn’t know there were sides!”
“All I want is to feel close to her for once in my life, you know? I’m going to make it happen. I have a plan.”
“Therapy?”
“No, her birthday.”
Viv swirled her coffee. “You’ve lost me there, champ.”
“I’m going to get her a birthday present. The best birthday present. One so good it’ll cut her right to the heart. She’ll realize how good of a daughter I’ve been this whole time. She’ll call. We’ll have a heart-to-heart. It’ll be amazing.”
“Some present. What is it?”
“I have no idea.”
“Does she have any hobbies?”
“Beats me.”
Viv took a long sip, and the straw gurgled. “Do you see how you’re not exactly setting yourself up for success?”
“As far as I know, Mom’s only hobby is shooing away ghosts and keeping me from realizing my ‘amazing’ psychic powers.”
“Maybe flowers or chocolate?”
“Now she spends most of her time watching cable news and getting scared of things.” Emma shook her head. “Whatever the perfect present is, I’ll know it when I see it.”
“You’re in luck. We’ve arrived.” Viv pointed ahead to a small storefront with large windows displaying an assortment of books.
From far in the distance came the sound of a man shouting.
“I thought this place went out of business. I came last Christmas, and it was closed.”
“Hal keeps it shuttered for half the year. It only opens in summer. The rest of the time, he’s off looking for new books to sell or going on vacation. There’s a bunch of shops in the back as well.”
Emma stepped around a bright yellow tripod, holding a red-and-white metal disk. Ahead of them, a man in a safety-orange vest fiddled with a surveyor’s transit. “Let’s cross the street.”
The bookstore filled a two-story building with large arched windows and a grand entrance. The books in the window were old and faded from the sun. A small chalkboard in front of the store read Keepers of the Passage. Meeting. Sunday nine o’clock p.m. Next to it on the sidewalk sat an empty soda bottle and a credit-card-sized shard of broken mirror.
“Keepers of the Passage?” Emma tilted her head. “What’s that all about? Sounds like some secret society from an episode of Scooby-Doo.”
“It’s a play on the name.” Viv pointed at the shop’s front door where precise gold-and-black lettering spelled Secret Passage Booksellers.
A musty scent enveloped them as they entered the store. It smelled like old paper, worn leather, and history. Bookshelves crammed with books stretched toward the ceiling like the walls of a maze. The store was silent except for the sound of pages being turned by the old man sitting at the front counter. He glanced at the two of them and glared at the cup in Viv’s hand.
“Drinks go in the drink jail.” He pointed to a sad little wire tray holding several coffee mugs, Deadtown Express cups, and a to-go cup from Griddle Me This, a new diner in Undertown Square.
Viv set her iced coffee in the cup corral. “Glad to see you’re charming as ever, Hal. How’s business?”
Hal was a tall, lanky man in his early sixties with thinning gray hair and a hunched posture. He set his magnifying glass on top of the papers. “Not great, but it won’t matter soon.”
“Selling the place?” Viv replied.
“Dreaming of retirement.”
“Hal, I don’t believe you’ve met Emma. She moved in last summer while you traveled. Where’d you go? Spain? Portugal?”
The wiry old man eyed them. “Emma, is it? Do you have any beverages?”
“No.” Small wonder business wasn’t booming with an attitude like that.
“Not a screw-top soda in the purse? I know how you ladies like to take it all with you.”
“I don’t.”
“Do you dog-ear books?”
“So what if I do?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I only dog-ear my own books.”
Hal frowned as if weighing her answer. “You can look around, but I have my eye on you!”
“What a jerk!” Emma whispered to Viv as they wandered deeper into Secret Passage Booksellers.
“Forget about Hal. He’s like that with everybody. So is the milieu sparking any ideas? What books does your mom enjoy?”
The floorboards creaked beneath their feet. The polished oak bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, each lined with rows of books of various sizes, shapes, and ages. Emma hated to admit it, but this place charmed her. “I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Then we’d better start looking.” Viv swerved into a cavernous aisle and plucked a heavy volume from the shelf. “How about art? This book has all the paintings from the Louvre.”
Emma snorted. “I know what she’d say. Too many naked people! It’s indecent!”
Viv flipped the pages. “I see what you mean. Check out this guy.” She turned the book around.
A two-page spread featured a painting of satyrs, creatures with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a goat. They danced around a fire, frenzied and ecstatic. Their goat legs kicked dust and debris as they leaped, eyes closed, mouths wide in ecstasy.
“That’s a hard no. Hey, is your phone beeping?”
“It’s not me.”
Emma glanced to the end of the aisle where an Employees Only door stood open. Inside, a large screen displayed a grid of security camera feeds. Each square contained different footage from wide panoramic views of the storefront to close-up shots of specific areas of interest. “Maybe I’ll get her a security camera.”
“What?”
“She could watch the feed to make sure whatever she’s scared of this week doesn’t catch her off guard.”
“Isn’t that… bleak?”
“Have you met her?”
Viv reshelved the Louvre book and picked another. “How about a book on cubism? No naked satyrs. Only cubes.”
“Look again.”
Viv squinted at the image. “I see it now. They’re… pointy. Well, if we don’t find a book that speaks to you, we can always check out the Courtyard Shops in back.”
“Wait a minute. Is that the mystery section?”
“I’m always up for a mystery.”
“Careful what you wish for.” Emma ran her fingers along the spines of the mystery books, looking for one she hadn’t read.
“This one looks good.”
"The Murder of Roger Ackroyd? The first time I read it, I was in an airport. When the twist came at the end, I screamed out loud. Everybody looked at me. It was great.” Emma’s finger stopped on a slender volume. “Now here’s an author I haven’t read before.” She pulled the book from the shelf. Its cover contained an ethereal image depicting Mount Fuji rising against a soft and hazy sky with the delicate pink blossoms of a cherry tree in the foreground.
Back at the counter, Hal eyed the books Emma and Viv had selected. He touched his top lip with his tongue and lingered on it for a moment too long before flashing a grudging smile and ringing up their total. “Twelve dollars, fifty cents.”
“My treat,” Viv said, reaching for her wallet. “You’ve given me plenty of books. It’s time you let me pay you back.”
Emma didn’t like how relieved she felt. It had been over a year since she left her job to move to Undertown, and her new psychic business was taking longer than she’d expected to set up.
Viv handed Hal a twenty-dollar bill, and he handed her back the change. He had liver spots on his hands and a Band-Aid around his middle finger.
“Do you hear that?” Emma asked. “It’s the voice from earlier.”
“I do,” Viv said. “It’s louder.”
As they opened the door to the Courtyard Shops, the scent of honeysuckle overwhelmed them. Emma took a sharp breath. It was a large, open space paved in flagstone with a shade tree and a bench underneath. Potted plants soaked up the sun all around the courtyard, and several quaint-looking shops surrounded the space. Three shops displayed open signs, one was closed, and another was vacant. Their fronts were covered with honeysuckle.
“It’s beautiful,” Emma said. “But why do you have to walk through a bookstore to get here?”
“There’s a side entrance, but Hal keeps it locked during the summer when his store is open. He likes to keep tabs on people as they come and go.”
“Talk about control issues.” Emma’s eye was drawn to a small, quirky shop with a charming storefront. It had a vintage wooden door and a large glass window spanning the front wall. Behind it, colorful crystals sparkled in the sunlight. The door was adorned with a wrought iron sign reading Serenity Stones in elegant, swirling letters. Surrounding the entrance were pots of fragrant lavender, rosemary, and other herbs.
A man’s voice rang out. “I told you I don’t have the money! I couldn’t make rent if it wasn’t dirt cheap. … Come after me all you like. I don’t have it. … You can’t squeeze blood from a turnip, man, so keep your threats to yourself, okay?”
The door to Serenity Stones opened, and a man stormed out. He was in his late thirties with long, curly brown hair and dressed in loose, flowing clothes. On his neck hung a pendant with a crystal around it. He stopped and looked at them. “Is that Viv?”
“The one and only. Sounded like you had some trouble back there.”
“Money, man, it’s always money.” His voice had a slow, soothing quality.
“I know all about suppliers. You don’t want to hear me at the end of the month when all the bills come due.”
“What’s up? Did I miss your housewarming party? Laney said you moved and they are throwing you a party. I kept my antenna up but never got the invite.”
“It’s happening… sometime. I’m not done unpacking, and the place is a mess. My roommate’s upset with me. By the way, Orion, have you met my new roommate?”
“Emma, dude, I know all about you,” Orion said.
“You do? Why?”
“I gotta keep an eye on the competition. I’m no medium, of course, but people do see me as a spiritual adviser. The dead don’t talk to me, but the crystals do.” He offered his hand. “Orion Moonstone at your service. Dealer of exquisite healing crystals. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Now, Orion,” Viv said, “we’re looking for a birthday present for our girl Emma’s mother, trying to mend fences and all that.”
“Still trying to make it work?” Orion replied. “I gave up years ago.”
The inside of Serenity Stones was lit with a cozy, mystical atmosphere. Pan flute music played in the background. The aroma of cedar incense hung in the air. Display cases filled with glittering crystals, crystal balls, and books on new age spiritualism lined the walls. Rugs covered half the floor. Pillows sat on top of them, surrounding a low table.
“Mint tea?” Orion asked, pouring himself a cup from a large vacuum pot.
“Just had coffee,” Viv said. “What kind of crystal would make the perfect birthday present for a mom who has everything?”
Orion disappeared into the back room and emerged with a purple crystal. “This amethyst was a big seller on Mother’s Day. It’s a good stress reliever. Good for harmony, community, peace. Take it.”
It was heavy.
“Feeling harmonious yet?” Viv asked.
Emma shook her head. “My mom’s not into new age stuff. She prefers the classics. Do you have any brimstone?”
“No, too smelly.”
“What’s this?” Emma said, drawn to a small key chain adorned with a shiny blue crystal. It was a delicate and sparkling work of art with a beautiful blue crystal embedded in a silver setting.
“You don’t want that.” Orion scowled. “It’s a cheap knockoff. I keep it around for the tourists.”
“You have tourists?” Viv asked.
“No, but if we did, they’d love it.”
“How much does it cost?” Emma asked. “I’ve been meaning to get a nicer key chain.”
“It’s yours. I have a bag of them in the back. Don’t come back to me next week when it breaks and you lose your keys.” He hesitated. “If it’s okay, I have a question for you though.”
“What?”
“From one expert in the paranormal to another.” Orion leaned in, nervous. “Have you noticed any… vampires?”
A year ago the question would have sent Emma laughing out of the room. But after discovering her own psychic powers, she’d met ghosts and demons and the fae. She thought for a moment. “No, why?”
“My energy’s gone through the floor, so I started researching. Did you know there’s vampires everywhere? They can drain the life out of you without you realizing. Some of them you can’t even see unless you have the sight.”
Emma shuddered, remembering the time dozens of hungry ghosts had drained the life from her. “I think I’m going to give back the key chain.”
“No!” Orion said. “I only wanted to know your opinion as a fellow… professional.”
“You’re still a weirdo, Orion,” Viv cut in. “It’s been a blast, but we’re going to jet. Emma, does your mom like to knit?”
“Don’t worry about Orion,” Viv said. “He’s a character, but he’s harmless.”
“I think he’s got a screw loose. I mean, vampires everywhere? He sounds like my mom.”
The Knitty Gritty yarn store had a large window display showcasing colorful skeins of yarn, knitting needles, crochet hooks, and other supplies. Inside, it smelled like lanolin. Wool and cotton and alpaca yarns dyed in every conceivable color vied for their attention.
“Viv, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” The woman behind the counter shut her laptop and smiled at them. She was in her late fifties with curly auburn hair and a warm smile. “How’s my Laney doing at your store? You know, I tell when you’ve got a good job, keep the boss happy.”
Viv laughed. “Hi, Joanne. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. She’s been working at Deadtown for what, seven years now? The place would fall apart without her. Emma here is looking for a birthday present for her mom. We thought this would be the perfect place to find it.”
Joanne clasped her hands to her heart. “What a good daughter you must be to spend so much time and effort on a birthday present for your dear mother.”
“Could I get you to tell her that?”
“Is your mother a knitter, Emma?”
Emma tried to remember her mom knitting or doing any type of craft. She did like to collect those strange porcelain baby figurines. It wasn’t exactly a craft, but she did arrange them into small scenes. “No.”
“Well, it’s never too late to start. We’ve got a wide selection of starter kits on the wall over there, and my Laney showed me you can learn how to do anything these days on YouTube. Why, I learned how to install a new toilet. Imagine that!”
Emma tried to imagine it and failed. “I don’t think she’d like to learn to knit, but I might like to. I could make her something.”
“What are you going to make your dear mother? Socks? Gloves?”
Emma felt a rising panic. All those things seemed so complicated. “Maybe a scarf?”
“I have just the kit for you. This is our best seller. It has a pair of needles, some good, easy yarn to work with. Let me tell you this yarn, it knits like heaven. You will be flying through that scarf. But I’ll warn you. Once the knitting bug bites you, there’s no turning back. Before you know it, half your relations will have so many hats and gloves and socks they’ll be dying of heatstroke.” Joanne punched the order into her register and handed Emma a card reader. Emma sighed with relief when she saw the price. She wouldn’t be going bankrupt yet.
The transaction completed, Joanne turned to Viv and spoke in conspiratorial tones. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen much of that new boy Laney’s been seeing?”
“You mean Phoenix?” Viv replied. “He comes around sometimes. I had him do a couple of odd jobs at the store. Seems like a decent guy.”
Joanne scowled. “There is something no good about that boy, and I’m going to find it. He is not good enough for my Laney.”
“Um, with all due respect,” Viv began. “Laney’s almost thirty. Have you considered she can make her own choices?”
“He has a motorcycle!” Joanne spat the words. “Hal saw him doing burnouts in a parking lot!”
“Lots of people have motorcycles. It’s not a criminal thing anymore.”
“It shows a general lack of regard. Nobody has much regard these days. Can you believe the other day Orion accused me of being—of all things—a vampire? And Hal wants to charge me late fees for paying my rent on the third when I’ve always paid it on the fifteenth! I might have a mind to leave if I didn’t have such good terms here. Though they’re not as good as Cornelius’s. How do you think he affords his stamp shop when it’s such a… junk pile?”
“Cornelius? Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Since we’re in the neighborhood, maybe I’ll stop in and say hi.”
“Tell him Orion was looking for him—probably to accuse him of being a vampire too. And tell Laney to call her mother.”
“That’s Corny’s shop over there.” Viv pointed to the darkened shop at the other end of the courtyard.
“Corny?”
“Cornelius Hart. He used to stop by the café every morning and get a tall Americano and an everything bagel.”
“You have everything bagels?”
“We did back then, the better part of a decade ago. I never learned the reason, but he stopped coming. It happens, you know? People move. Their schedules change. I always wondered what happened to Corny. His shop used to be a destination for stamp collectors. He had a real talent for finding old stamps.”
“It looks more like a junkyard than a stamp shop.”
Orion’s shop had displayed glittering crystals, and Joanne’s shop had colorful yarn. Corny’s front window was full of used transformers, old wires, and half-disassembled electronics.
“I heard he’d become an inventor…”
“More like a mad scientist.” Emma peered into the front window. The shop was dark except for a faint flickering light in the back. “Is it open?”
“Door’s unlocked.”
Corny’s shop, Stamped In, smelled like paste and fried electrical circuits. Dust motes drifted by, illuminated by light from the front window.
“Hello!” Viv called out. “Corny?”
A U-shaped display cabinet filled the room’s center. Inside of it, old stamps lay scattered, the remnants of the shop’s original inventory. Sitting on top of the glass was a disassembled cylinder head from a Volkswagen. Next to it was a small photograph framed in an antique silver casing. The photo captured the young woman’s features in perfect detail in shades of black-and-white. Her high forehead, her shiny black hair.
“Maybe he left,” Emma said.
“Without locking the door?” Viv walked toward the back of the shop. “Emma, look at this!”
A large mirror had been shattered, its once-pristine surface now a chaotic jigsaw. The scattered shards below it glinted.
