A. G. Mayes - A Slice of Magic

According to my GPS, the drive would take two hours and twelve minutes. I slid across the front seat into the driver’s seat of my little red car and prayed it would be able to make the journey. A week after I bought my car from a friend of a friend, the driver’s side door stopped opening from the outside. A few days after that, the muffler started falling off – it was long gone now – and the car started shaking every time I hit the brakes. I promised myself that would be the last time I bought anything just because it was red.

I was grateful for the distraction the car provided. It was easier than wondering how I could help at a pie shop. My baking resume was short. It included a few batches of flat cookies and one failed attempt to make scones for my friend’s baby shower that left the mother-to-be with a chipped front tooth.

I wanted answers to the questions that lingered from my childhood – the ones my mother refused to discuss. That’s how I ended up here in my car with a packed suitcase and a printed copy of the directions in case my old GPS failed me.

I imagined being in the kitchen with Aunt Erma again. Now that I was an adult, I pictured us joking and talking about life, but still eating lots of chocolate.

I stretched the two hours and twelve minutes into an even three hours by stopping three times for coffee and car snacks. By the time I passed a large wooden sign with sparkly gold letters that welcomed me to the small town of Hocus Hills, I had gone through two lattes, one mocha, a bag of chips and half a box of donuts.

The breeze rustled through the trees, and the leaves were so bright red, yellow, and orange that they practically glowed. The streets were lined with small shops with colorful awnings. I passed a large grass filled town square with a bright blue gazebo in the middle. The sidewalks were wide leaving lots of room for people to walk, and on this sunny November day, there were plenty of people out strolling around. A few heads turned my way. I wasn’t sure if it was because of my loud muffler-less car or because I was new in town. I was so amped up on sugar and caffeine that when I pulled up to park in front of the pie shop, I was in the middle of a beautiful, or at least loud, sing-along with my Annie soundtrack.

There was a tap at my car window and I let out a bloodcurdling scream in the middle of ‘The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow.’ I turned to see a startled woman with big brown eyes and graying brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, peering in at me. She wore a long, bright blue sweater dress and a white sparkly flower pin. Embarrassed, I slid across the seat so I could open the car door and get out. Maybe she hadn’t heard anything, I thought hopefully.

‘So sorry I startled you,’ she spoke in a musical voice. ‘Are you Erma’s niece?’ Wow, word got around fast in a small town.

‘Yes, I’m Susanna.’ I stuck out my hand.

She reached out and shook it enthusiastically with both of hers. Her hands were warm and soft while I’m pretty sure mine were still covered in a thin layer of powdered sugar.

‘I’m Flora. I own the bookstore across the street. Oh my, you look a lot like Erma,’ she noted, looking at my curly hair and big blue eyes. ‘Your aunt had to leave for a few days, but she said you would have no trouble handling things while she was away.’ My mouth fell open. She ignored my shock and reached into her sweater pocket. ‘She left this note for you explaining things. I’m sure you’ll be fine but let me know if you have any questions. I’ll pop by later to check on you.’ She shoved a purple sparkly envelope and a set of keys towards me. My eyes widened as the words, ‘Mmm, pie,’ came from my hand. ‘Oh, that’s just Erma’s keychain,’ she said, pointing to the pie-shaped keychain I was holding. ‘She has so many fun things like that. Let me know if you need anything.’

‘Um, thanks,’ was all I managed to get out before she was off.

She paused and turned back, calling down the street. ‘Oh, and I just love Annie too.’ Well good, I thought; at least I was making memorable first impressions.

It was one of those fight or flight moments. I hadn’t seen Aunt Erma for years. What did I really owe her? I looked from the pie shop with its twinkling lights lining the window back to my car with the half-eaten box of donuts. I sighed as my sense of family duty got the best of me and went to unlock the front door.

A little bell tinkled as I stepped inside, and I inhaled deeply. The place smelled like buttery pie crust and cinnamon. The bright yellow walls gave the illusion the lights were on even though they weren’t. My eyes wandered around the room, and I traced my finger along the chipped edge of one of the purple wooden chairs. I noticed that a leg on one of the bright red tables had broken near the bottom, and the table was now supported by a couple of old encyclopedias. There were two overstuffed red chairs tucked into the corner by the window next to a small bookshelf. The wood floors were stained a dark walnut color, and they creaked under my feet. There were several framed pictures on the wall of people crowded around the red tables eating slices of pie. Intermixed with those pictures were posters of various kinds of pie. One had a large piece of blueberry and the words, ‘A touch of magic in every slice,’ scrawled in purple letters. Another had a picture of pumpkin pie piled high with whipped cream and, ‘Pick up a pie and no matter where you are, you’ll be home,’ written in a cheerful red.

I stepped between the cash register and the display case to get back to the kitchen. The floor changed from wood to golden brown square tiles. The walls were the same bright yellow as the front. I walked past a sink and a dishwasher and then around a large kitchen island with a weathered wooden bottom and a stainless-steel top. All the cupboards that lined the walls were painted teal. There were two large refrigerators and two large freezers along the side wall. Across from those were four large ovens. I paused in front of what must have been a mixer. It was bright red and as tall as me.

I wandered around the room for a minute, occasionally grabbing random utensils off the hooks on the walls and studying them. I tried to figure out what they might be used for. I was pretty sure at least a few of them were torture devices.

As I reached the small desk in the back corner, I remembered the note in my hand. There was a lump at the bottom of the envelope and I pulled out a small bottle full of sparkly white glitter attached to a chain. I set it on the desk and pulled out the piece of paper. I unfolded the page and saw her familiar curly handwriting.

Dear Susanna,

Thank you for coming to help me. I’m sorry to leave you like this, and I’m sorry I left you all those years ago. When I get back, I’ll explain everything. I’m sure you’ll do a great job keeping the pie shop running. I’ll be gone for a few days. A week at the most. There are enough pies for today in the fridge, but starting tomorrow you’ll have to make your own. Wear the necklace while I’m gone, it might come in handy. If you have any problems, Flora, Lena, or Mr Barnes can help you.

Love and Sparkles,

Aunt Erma

P.S. Please take care of my Mitzy for me.

I stared at the note. What the heck was a Mitzy?

There were two purple doors at the back of the kitchen. I opened one and peered out into a little alley. Behind the other one was a staircase. I heard the pitter patter of little feet and a small brown ball of fluff came flying at me.

‘Ah!’ I jumped back in surprise. The fur ball shot around me in circles before coming to rest at my feet, perfectly still except the wagging tail. Big brown eyes gazed up expectantly. Oh no , I thought as I saw the name ‘Mitzy’ written in rhinestones across the glittery red collar.