A. Mayes - A Slice of Magic

‘Well, every day counts,’ she said brightly. ‘Maybe you could call your aunt and then start implementing some changes. After all, obesity is a growing epidemic, and we all need to do our part to keep our town healthy.’

‘Pie makes people happy,’ I said through gritted teeth.

‘Ah, you’re one of those people. You probably eat chocolate when you’re sad too.’ She sized me up, her eyes rested for a moment on my thighs.

‘Oh look, it’s closing time,’ I said, even though there was still twenty minutes to go. ‘I have to lock up. Thanks for stopping in.’ I was unable to keep the hint of sarcasm out of my voice for the last part. I forced a polite smile, straining my cheek muscles, as I ushered her out the door. I picked up the booklet she left by the corner as though it might bite me and carried it directly to the garbage. I was pretty sure Aunt Erma wouldn’t be changing any of her famous recipes to low fat options. Even the thought made me shudder.

I was relieved to flip the sign at the front door from open to closed and lock up as soon as the clock switched from 5.59 p.m. to 6 p.m. I waved to Flora who was sitting in the window of her bookshop. Her open sign was still lit up.

Upstairs, I found Mitzy drooling on the newspaper that had been sitting on the kitchen table from this morning. She cracked an eye open when she heard me come in.

‘Oh, come on,’ I said, pulling the newspaper out from under her. She stood up with a sniff and stretched. I brought her outside, fed her, and took her outside again. She seemed to enjoy lying on my stuff, and I was worried what else she might do if given the opportunity.

After I was convinced Mitzy’s bladder was empty, I decided to stop at Flora’s bookshop to see if I could find a cookbook. Maybe something there would spark my inner Aunt Erma that I couldn’t seem to find on the internet. The sun was beginning to set on my short walk over to Flora’s, giving the streets a nice orange glow.

A bell tinkled as I walked in the door.

‘Hi Susie,’ I heard Flora’s voice call to me from somewhere.

‘Hi Flora,’ I called back, looking around, but I didn’t see her anywhere. How did she even know it was me?

‘Go ahead and look around. I’ll be there in a minute,’ Flora’s voice called.

The shop had floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed full of books. The shelves weren’t set up in straight aisles like I was used to. They twisted and turned around the shop, creating quite the maze. Within minutes I wasn’t sure if I’d find my way back out again. I wished I’d left a trail of breadcrumbs. How would I locate the cookbook section? Every now and then, there was a small break in the shelves where an overstuffed chair sat as an invitation to curl up with a good book.

I was startled when I heard a snort and rounded the corner to see a white-haired man sprawled over a chair sleeping. His glasses were askew, and a book about relaxation techniques rested on his chest. That was an advertisement if I ever saw one. I wondered if Flora knew he was in here.

Halfway down one of the aisles I stopped when the word ‘pie’ caught my eye. There was a stack of books on baking pies sitting there as though it were waiting for me. I examined the covers and flipped through the pages ogling the photographs of pies next to each recipe. I decided almost immediately to buy all five of them.

I clutched the stack to my chest and walked a little further, eyeing a few books all while trying to remind myself that I didn’t have a lot of disposable income right now. I was somewhere near the back of the shop (I think) when a door caught my eye.

The door was smaller than most doors and rounded at the top. I would have to bend over, but Flora would probably fit through it without ducking. I took a few more steps towards it and felt a tingling sensation run up and down my spine. What was behind that door? I glanced around. No one was in sight. I reached for the knob.

Flora suddenly appeared by my side. ‘Did you find everything you needed?’ she asked.

I dropped my hand and held up the books.

‘I bet you’ll find some of the answers you need in those,’ she said.

‘What’s back there?’ I asked, nodding towards the door.

‘Just some storage. It’s a real mess.’ She put her arms around my shoulders and ushered me away, but before we got too far, I could have sworn that I’d heard a thump come from behind the door.

‘Hey, Flora?’ I began as she rung up my purchase.

‘Yes, dear?’

‘Are you sure you don’t have the note Aunt Erma left for you around here somewhere?’ I asked, glancing around the counter behind the cash register. I was hoping she had included something more in Flora’s note than she had in mine. Maybe a phone number or some more specific information about where she went or when she’d be back.

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t have it. It didn’t say much. I’m sure she told you everything she told me.’ She took my money.

‘Should I be worried?’

‘No, your aunt is a very strong woman. I’m sure she’s just fine. She just had a few things she had to take care of.’ Flora handed some coins back to me, but didn’t meet my eyes.

‘OK, thanks.’ I grabbed my books. When I got to the door, I glanced back, and Flora was staring at the cash register as though lost in thought.

When I got back to the apartment, I found Mitzy in the kitchen sink licking off the dirty dishes I’d left in there. I couldn’t fathom how that tiny dog had leapt up that high. I had to set up a camera to see how this dog pulled these things off.

Day 4 ― Saturday, November 5th

I grabbed the newspaper from outside the front door and shuffled through the pages quickly trying to find Ask Elodie. I was hoping to get the gist of it before the Morning Pie Crew came in. Before I could find it, something caught my eye and I turned back a page.

The headline read, ‘Beloved Pie Shop Left in the Hands of a Beginner.’ My mouth fell open as I read the article underneath.

Residents of Hocus Hills were surprised when Erma Crosby, a leader in the community, disappeared on a business trip earlier this week leaving her pie shop in the hands of her niece, Susanna Daniels, 31 years old, who doesn’t seem to know a rolling pin from a bowling pin.

Erma’s pies have been a daily staple for many in town. It’s often claimed that they have an almost medicinal quality to them. Several residents are concerned that Susanna won’t be able to achieve that same high quality that we all know and love. Stay tuned readers – we’ll be updating the story as we learn more throughout the week.

I crumpled the paper up and threw it down on the table. I longed for the quiet anonymity that I had in the city. Back home, the list of people who knew my name or cared about what I did was short. My mother, my friends Josh and Michelle, and a couple baristas at the local coffee shop. I was good at my job, and no one printed updates about it in the local paper.

I flattened out the paper a little to check the byline. It simply read, ‘Elodie.’ Who was this Elodie anyway? What gave her the right to write about me?

I finished setting everything up, slamming any cupboard door that got in my way. This wasn’t exactly the pep talk I needed.

‘How’s your day going?’ Mr Barnes was the first of the Morning Pie Crew to walk through the door.

‘Great,’ I said, a slight edge to my voice. His eyebrows rose a little.

‘I take it you read the newspaper today.’

Just then, Lena and Flora walked in. ‘I brought matches so we can burn all the newspapers.’ Lena held up her purse.

‘No fires,’ I practically shouted.

‘Oh, right.’ She set her bag down on a chair. ‘We could all just rip our copies into shreds. That could be satisfying too.’