If you’re clicking on this for the first time; I recommend checking out Issue Zero for a primer!

Issue Zero

But if you don’t want to, and you’re ready to charge ahead, carry on and it’s good to see you on the trail once again!

Between family, friends, trips, and my employment search, this month was busy from the start. I fell behind on writing a couple of times, but I still wanted to get this to you.

2026 has already been a wild year full of change. As some of you know, the career I thought I was going to retire in abruptly came to an end. My husband and I started to look towards what a future for us looked like as all our plans went on pause; I launched The Storyteller’s Path with a serious refocus on my writing and beginning my new journey.

I began to write silly stories about mobsters, magic, and mayhem, temporary employees making unwise decisions, and meet other writers in my city and across the country through both writer’s groups, coincidental connections, and frankly, finally saying yes to things that I previously denied myself.

My birthday happened this month. I was pleasantly surprised to not only be able to kick off a new health and fitness journey, but also choose my start date for the new job I will begin in Mid-September.

I also began to take steps to prioritize my health and mental fitness after years of burn out and neglecting myself.

With August also brings the nascent dregs of spooky season to our doorsteps; and naturally I am fully embracing the fall vibes.

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Random Encounters

First Encounter) Should you find yourself in Omaha, I highly recommend checking out The Mill on Leavenworth for a cool coffee spot.

I had the fortune of visiting it with my mother and having a chat with the author of “Love is All,” Donna Hewlett, to discuss her publishing journey and creative process.

It was also thanks to her daughter, ; that I was able to break my writers block on Chapter 9 as I figured out how my magic system works (Bless you Janna, I am forever grateful and am so happy to have a new fellow witchy best friend).

During the discussion with the lovely Donna though, I was able to gain some insights I wanted to share with you:

• Don’t rule out small publishing houses for your debut novel.

  • While the big five is always an option; smaller publishers may be more willing to hit the niche you’re writing in or work with you as opposed to driving your story or refining it to the market’s mainstreams.

    • Some small publishers may not need you to be agented to work with.

  • Always do your research for which publisher may be right for you, and good luck in the query trenches!

• Build your audience or begin to cultivate your following early.

  • Utilize things such as Substack, Instagram, or even TikTok to build out your readership. It’s never too early to start.

• Keep showing up and keep going!

  • Writing journeys take all shapes and sizes to get to your first book hitting the shelves. Sometimes it can take years or decades; but don’t stop.

We also covered personal creative process, narrative scope, and the many places we visited; but for now I will leave you with those three tips.

Go read Donna’s book, ‘Love is All,’ and keep a weather eye out for her upcoming book, which will provide a fascinating mystery coming out of the 1960s.

Thank you again to Donna and Janna for taking the time to meet with me and sharing your creative spirits and lives with my mother and I.

Second Encounter) As mentioned before, on my birthday, I received the call that I cleared the last proceedings of my job hunt. I have accepted a position that will keep me happily in Philly and servicing the community here.

It is in the field I was laid off from and is a good step for my middle career momentum. To maintain a healthy work-life balance and because frankly- I got burned out managing people while also trying to manage their, and my work, I have decided to take a step back and not pursue being a supervisor again or a middle-manager.

Maybe we’ll give it another go after the next decade.

Gaining this position though and bringing in two incomes for my husband and I put us back on track for new ventures such as house hunting in the City we love; potential pursuit an MFA at one of the many university, and overall creating the life we desire.

But that will all kick-in only after we have our feet underneath us on the new routines and clear expectations in our day-to-day. It will obviously change my posting frequency, as I’ll be building new routines around the new job.

To ensure there is a clear separation between my work there though due to a robust social media policy, and the pieces I write here; that is the most I will say on my new position.

Trail Markers

This past month I picked up ‘He Who Fights With Monsters.’ A LitRPG fiction by Travis Deverell under the pen-name Shirtaloon.

While July’s pick was all eight books of the ‘Dungeon Crawler Carl’ series by Matt Dinniman, August gave way to poking around a new world and universe alongside the main character, Jason Asano.

Unlike DCC, ‘He Who Fights With Monsters’ is written in a delicious close third-person and has a game system that is quick to pick up and run with.

Did I mention it’s fuck all funny?

While I’m not even halfway through book one (as it is a beefy first volume), I have absolutely adored how Jason’s tendencies coalesce into the narrative and we get a nice taste of a fish out of water isekai meets an otherworldly campaign setting.

Also, Jason’s rather untrained himself, hailing from retail. Who, much like every day folks, flounders around until he gets his feet underneath him wondering if what he’s experiencing is a dream, delusion, or real life?

It’s quickly because of these relatable factors and the general humor in the narrative that I’ve been recommending this one for folks who want to dodge the hype about Carl, but are still interested in the LitRPG genre.

Signposts!

• September 14th will mark ‘Schoolwork and Cement Shoes’ moving to a biweekly posting schedule.

• While I have no intentions of becoming a full-time health and lifestyle writer, I launched ‘The Couch will Not Be My Coffin.’

  • This is a series that will explore health and wellness with reflections on the good, the bad, and the ugly as I build out what a healthy lifestyle looks like for me. I am on day 13 to 15 of that journey in as of drafting this.

    • It will be a mixture of current tips and reflective pieces as I strive to not murder myself at the gym.

  • It has no set posting schedule; but because is out to knick my weight lifting sets (which was the highest compliment I’ve recieved this week), I’ll be sure to include some of the exercises I’m doing for others who may be interessted.

    • I do a mixture of walking/cardio, hot yoga, weight lifting, and the stairclimber.

    • I welcome all who wish to join.

• On ‘Behind the Screen!’

  • This is going to take some time to cook on. I have begun drafting, but scope creep is a real bugger and I’m figuring it out.

  • I don’t know if I want to be no-holds-barred unhinged; or technical and deep. The reality is I’m a silly as hell person and am rather keen to just go for it.

    • I am taking any and all suggestions and thoughts.

    • For now; this is on the back burner until the new gig kicks in and we see what the posting schedule realistically looks like.

Route Planning

Today I’m going to talk about a couple of the online platforms I’ve submitted too; if only to assist fellow writers with places they can begin to put their pieces forward.

For ANY site I recommend on here; or any site you are looking to submit on- I highly suggest reading other pieces they have platformed or published to understand what specific content and flavors they favor. I review their submission rules.

This is to both inform your submissions, and to heighten the chances of you getting selected by matching with the niche the publisher is already known to cover.

For Horror

Flash Phantoms is an exclusively horror-fiction e-zine that publishes on a monthly basis. They cover the following areas:

• Flash Fiction - 1000 words or less.

• Micro-fiction - 100 words or less.

  • Submissions do not require a fee at this time and if selected, authors are not currently paid.

Of these submissions - they will typically choose a story of the month which features the piece and an interview with the author.

My piece above was selected for their June Micro Fiction Horror; and they responded rather quickly after submission (I submitted on April 30th, they responded on May 2nd).

They also offer a 24-hour turn around for an added fee of $5 USD for those who just can’t wait.

After my piece was selected, we went through 30-day rights and then continued on proofing. All in all, working with the Flash Phantom’s team was an excellent experience.

They are open to both new and published writers alike, so if you’re taking your first stabs into horror, I recommend familiarizing yourself with their rules, and submitting.

For Nonfiction

Brevity - is another flash-literacy journal and blog that focuses on creative nonfiction pieces in a brief essay format.

They cover:

• 750 words or fewer in essay form, and have a ‘Brief Nonfiction’ submission window of September through April.

  • Pieces submitted have a small fee of $3 dollars.

  • Authors with featured pieces are paid a $45 Honorarium.

• A platform for photographers and visual artists to illustrate future issues

Responses back after submission from the platform on selection or non selection were about a month for the two pieces I submitted. While my two pieces were not successful here, I did gain some insight into building out my portfolio; and do intend to submit again in the future!

They are open to both emerging and experienced writers; but do have specific formatting requirements and additional rules to be mindful of.

So make sure to familiarize yourself before you submit.

Submittable

Now, both of these platforms utilize Submittable as their main collection point for submissions.

Because of this common factor, and mostly because I was up to my eyes in trying to understand what the hell I was doing last April; I found that in addition to the two websites I was pursuing publication on, Submittable also lists other connecting platforms that are doing similar asks which you can find under the DISCOVER section.

The website also has easy profile creation through connecting either your Gmail or Facebook account.

I do not recommend under any circumstances just randomly submitting to any platforms without due diligence- it sounds like a fast track to scam risk and burnout to me.

But I do recommend:

• Taking the time to search through the opportunities Submittable may offer

• Doing your research to find out which ones are in your genre

• Have a manageable deadline

• Reach out to a publication you like

• Double-checking which are legit versus a scam

and seeing if this amalgamation of submission calls can be a potential springboard for you as you look to further your publication journey.

But, how about you?
What platforms and websites have you submitted to that you’ve had good experiences or success with? Where else should starting writers check out for getting their work featured?

Tell me in the comments below:

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How this Newsletter is made:
All art was designed utilizing free assets in Canva or through paper and pencil sketch. Occasional later graphic design may be developed in Procreate.

Photographs are taken by iPhone.

If it’s not my art, it will be cited.

All writing is first drafted in a word app such as Apple’s Notes or Pages, and then edited in Pages through listening to the text-to-speech function.

All formatting is done on Substack.

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Present day

Barry

Barry had always liked the atmosphere of a moody coffee shop.

The appreciation for higher quality materials such as rich hardwoods to build out their sales counter and seating, combined with the ambiance provided by a well-built playlist always made him feel like he was walking into a real high society joint with some of the finest coffees imported from across seas.

It helped quiet his head from the world outside, was why he brewed most of his coffee these days in a pour-over fashion, and truthfully felt like a real treat to his day.

His morning had been spent at Saint Angela’s Catholic School in the Office of the Dean with a stack of paperwork on the Dean’s desk and a nasally voice that grated on Barry’s ears. It made it hard to stay polite and smile while Lily tried to stay put in her seat.

The kid had her toy fox so wrung out in an attempt at self-control, Barry was surprised the little plush wasn’t popping his stuffing.

Little Marie’s question had done a real number on her. While they had completed their terrariums and all the kids had played nice, Lily had practically shut down on the car ride home. Any attempt to get her to do anything after had been a struggle.

He gripped the mug in his hands so tightly he was concerned he might crush it as he took a deep, long breath.

Getting her to put on Luna’s warding bracelet had basically been a wrestling match worthy of television.

He didn’t know what his aunt had the bracelet made of, but he was grateful that it was durable enough to handle a six-year-old’s hands. Lily just didn’t have the dexterity to be able to maneuver it off by herself yet. So it had been like watching a toddler try to figure out a finger-trap for the first time.

It had taken all his restraint not to grin like a bastard at the already frustrated child when she threw a silent fit. Enzo’s parenting books said while he had needed to be empathetic, he should stay firm when he set rules. Until they could get a handle on her connection to the shadows, she had to wear it before they went out in public.

The books did not tell him however how to deal with the facial expressions of a six-year-old that, were she was of age, would have likely reached cursing levels of a sailor; and how to stop imagining what he could only guess was a high pitched child’s voice from saying them all.

Now she was with the School Psychologist for her evaluation and registration intake. Something he was told, after an extensive interview of himself with Lily present he was to get lost for.

Thus he had relocated and was luxuriating in the time alone.

‘The Buzz’ at Saint Angelas had set the bar for him on the standard for what a good shop could look like. After all, the school-adjacent coffee shop had opened its doors his junior year of high school. It was where he had gained a taste for the little addictive dark brown beans.

Since then; it had prospered on the paychecks of desperately uncaffeinated parents who beelined for its warm open doors as soon as morning drop-off was complete.

He watched from a high top as a myriad of business-locked drones, stay-at-home spouses, and sleep-deprived shift workers all crowded the cozy space with only one thing in mind.

The nearly pitch black drink he white knuckled in his hands.

He sipped the hot brew as he watched a woman in a hot pink track suit snatch up a bag at the counter and a to-go cup before she speed walked her way out. A set of noise canceling earbuds saved him from the sound of the counter’s long line’s chatter as he glanced back down at his choice of reading material, Dante’s Book of Shadows.

He had yanked a dust cover off one of the bibles he had kept at the house that fit its size, and had unceremoniously wrapped the grimoire’s cover to hide its true intention. The last thing he needed was an odd look his way from this crowd.

But as he looked at the other occupants around the coffee shop, he could some equally pious inhabitants between the women and men that occupied the space; all locked into what ever they were reading. As he noted an actual priest, he suspected the Father was the only honest one amongst them since his book sat flat-open on the table and he wrote quietly on a note pad beside it.

Three tables over from him though, a woman thumbed her coffee cup with a flushed face and a coy bite of her bottom lip. Her eyes locked intently as she read the thick New Testament in her hands.

He smiled with the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one who had implemented a decoy strategy.

But while no doubt she was reading something biblically accurate in nature, he doubted the shop occupants would be so accepting of the heresy on his table.

He glanced back down to Dante Costa’s Book of Shadows and ran his hand over the dust jacket. The cover did nothing to muffle the feeling vibrating against his fingers as he connected to the magical item.

With a flick of his wrist, Barry opened it and breathed in the scent of parchment and iron that commingled with the rich tones that poured from his mug. He sipped his coffee again as he glanced to the Italian writing briefly.

While Barry wasn’t too familiar with utilizing others grimoires, having primarily only used his copy of the Divine Comedy to fashion himself one, he wasn’t unfamiliar with the process of procuring and examining them.

It often didn’t do much for him; given a grimoire was as unique as the magic-user; but they also didn’t often react with his own connection so potently.

Something Dante’s book had in common with his daughter.

Lily’s own capabilities yanked on Barry’s tenuous control of what he had from Miss Annie to a near focus-shattering potency. The magic without the kid’s presence typically waited in a static, ambivalent state; obediently waiting for his order like a tool that sat in the closet until someone took it out and put it to work.

With this book though, and Lily’s own pull to the magic, it made that thing at the purview of his senses buck and rattle against its cage like crazy.

Barry could feel his left hand nearly going numb from the rapid phantom vibration that shook against his hand. He gazed fascinatingly at the cursive so neatly articulated over the brown page with a small frown as he took another drawl of his brew.

While he didn’t know Dante’s particular flavor of magic, he knew his book of shadows shouldn’t be this active. Instilled with the essence of the individual and the will that built the connection to the magic; the loss of a life that channeled the power through it was a surefire way to diffuse the potency of any magical conduit.

He’d lost count the amount of times he made the magic thing stop doing the magical effect because he put a very nonmagical bullet through the magic-user’s head.

If they died, typically, magical workings were cut off at the pass. Dead folks couldn’t cast or maintain spells.

At least, as far as he was aware of.

He leaned back in his chair as he flipped through the pages to get a decent look at the contents. He knew Dante was Italian-American, but he was baffled that the entire thing was in the mother tongue. While use of the language was often highly prevalent in the families as children, the more they blended into everyday society, the further away its constant use occurred.

Barry would die before he ever admitted out loud that he read English faster than he did Italian. Due to the lack of constant use; if his father ever defaulted to it- it would still take Barry a moment or two to regain the fluency he was raised to maintain.

Could be a couple reasons he did it, Barry reasoned with himself, either he was young when he wrote it, or he was trying to keep others from reading it.

He wasn’t seeing any hardcore latin in it; so his suspicion rose that it was more likely Dante just wanted to stay traditional and keep others outside of his family away.

Unlike standard books though, grimoires didn’t necessarily have a uniform format, specific chapter, or table of contents. They often acted more like the diaries of a lunatic, with spell-weavings seeming more like ravings to the untrained eye, and harsh sketches of ritual instructions or archaic orders so the user could repeat their workings.

They were instruments to conduct magic acts, rather than be specific sources of power themselves.

At least the ones written by humans.

He glanced at his left hand and flexed it with a grimace as he remembered when he had signed himself into Miss Annie’s book. He winced.

Human grimoires at least didn’t have power without the user’s connection to it. Dead folks lost that connection.

He turned his attention back to the book.

Dante Costa, much like his namesake; had taken a more classical route with his grimoire. In between what appeared to be dated diary entries, were carefully charcoal-sketched diagrams and ritual circles, sealed by a substance that smelled suspiciously like hairspray.

He found some simple spell lists and instructions written no different than a homemade recipe book; and some that had brown splotches on the pages that had hardened and stiffened the fiber in what he knew only to be blood, or a really foul goo.

By the time he had finished his coffee, Barry gave a soft huff and rubbed his face. He pulled at his eyelids as it evolved into a groan.

Some of the earlier pages were magical workings seemed to be rooted in Italian folk magic. It had basic blessings and protective charms for homes and luck. Prayers to the Madonnas based on the season. The rituals focused more on energy manipulation and the turning of fate.

As he turned the pages though, they became darker, rituals started to use blood components and other biological matter. Mention of haruspicy began to become part of the practices across the parchment.

He had started looking for something. Barry considered as he paused two-thirds towards the end of the book.

Blessedly, they were dated in the top right corner of each page. Dante began writing his book about fifteen years ago. Well before Lily was born; but perhaps closer towards the downfall of the Costa family at large.

He sucked his teeth before he took in the coffee shop’s current inhabitants while he pulled the earbuds from his ears to give himself a break.

Most of the previous crowd had cleared out, but he froze as he spotted a pair of bright blue eyes locked on him.

A man stood on the serving side of the ordering counter. The barista behind the espresso machine and counter hard at work on an order. He wore a fine three piece maroon suit with an accenting muted bronze tie. His black hair was graying majestically on the sides and he had a salt and pepper goatee. A gold watch donned his wrist and while he had leather on his feet.

As a cup was handed to him and he smiled politely to the barista, he turned and made a bee line towards Barry.

God dammit. Barry thought as he sucked in a breath.

He shut the book of shadows instinctively and slid it directly into his bag. He lifted his chin and sat up straight. His fingers came to interlace on his high top’s surface.

Mikhail Novikov came to a halt the moment he reached the table.

“Barry.” He greeted with a nod, “Wouldn’t expect to see you here.”

You’re the last person I’d want to see. Barry muttered. His face tightened with the stretch of his lips into a smile and the polite raise of his eyebrows as he responded, “Hello Misha, why not? We both went here.”

His Russian associate’s smile vanished and his lips pulled into a flat line. He took a sip from his to-go cup and gestured to the table, “May I sit?”

Absolutely fucking not. Barry pushed out the chair across from him with his toes, turning it effectively in offer. “Sure. I’ve got the time.”

Actually, he’d have to leave the moment Doctor Porter concluded her intake and assessment of his charge; but Mikhail didn’t need to know that.

The School Psychologist would provide the most natural out from this conversation though, and the shrink’s text to his phone would give him the guise of politeness when he had to excuse himself.

After all, the less the Novikov family knew about Lily Costa’s existence, the better.

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Lily

“Now Lily, can you point to the picture that best describes how you feel right now?”

Lily pointed to the angry red face that was on a paper that had been put on the low table beside them. They had been playing dolls for the past ten minutes.

Doctor Porter had a lamb stuffy, and Lily had the red haired dolly. She squeezed it tight every time she thought about Barry.

Doctor Porter’s office wasn’t like her other doctor’s offices. The doctor Granny had taken her to had needles, large tables she had to sit on, and cold instruments that gave her goose bumps.

He used to ask her strange questions and Granny always made them leave in a rush after. So she hadn’t seen him in a long time.

Doctor Porter’s office was a lot more comfortable. It felt fun to be in, and had different colors and shapes. There were toys and dolls, small sand boxes, and games that required everything from matching shapes to different shaped holes and jigsaw puzzles.

While Barry had been asked a bajillion questions about him and her, she had been introducing Mr. Fox to every doll she could find.

It was after all, the polite thing to do since Doctor Porter told her Barry would need to step away once she was done talking to him.

Lily didn’t mind.

Barry was dumb, and she was mad at him.

He had made her put on the stupid bracelet, get dressed in clothes she didn’t want too, made her leave the townhouse, again, and then made her come to this big place that had a bunch of kids she didn’t know.

Then, she had to sit still the whole morning and listen to dumb adults talk about silly things like, ‘enrollment’ and ‘academia,’ attendance, and a bunch of other big words she thought she knew. But, with how fast they were talking; she couldn’t keep up.

It was a jumbled mess that made her head hurt by the time the nearly bald man that Barry called, “The Dean,” stood and shook his hand and said they could begin, ‘Intake and Onboarding.’

Nothing had been fun until they reached Doctor Porter’s office.

The nice lady talked to Barry for what felt like FOREVER. She asked him all sorts of questions to a point Lily just wanted to leave. Barry kept bringing her back each time she tried.

She was getting more frustrated with him until the Doctor let Lily start to play with some of the toys in her office.

When Doctor Porter was done asking him the questions, she sent him away. Then began to join in with Lily in playing with the toys.

Which was FINE. She didn’t want to see him right now anyways! Barry wasn’t good at playing with toys to start.

“I see.” Doctor Porter nodded as she looked down to the grumpy orange face that Lily gestured at. Her brows moved closer together as she smiled and made her little lamb dolly bounce, “So we feel grumpy?” Lily nodded. “And when you feel grumpy, what do you do?”

Lily held her dolly and squeezed it real tight. Her lips felt heavy as she scrunched up her face at Doctor Porter and then shook the doll hard before smacking it against the floor.

Doctor Porter nodded. She turned towards a notepad on her knee, setting her lamb stuffy to the side for a moment to write something down.

She then picked up the lamb once more after she finished, “Well, it’s okay to feel grumpy.” Lily paused and looked up, “But it’s not okay to hit others.” She gestured to the red dolly who’s face was now smushed in, “that hurt Anne.”

Lily paused, then looked down to Anne’s crunched up face.

Mr. Fox who sat beside her agreed. He told her that Anne seemed really nice since they got to play with her, and that it was likely really mean to smack her like Lily had.

Her face heated and her stomach tightened. Her ears buzzed like when she was in trouble. She looked up at Doctor Porter who wasn’t smiling as much, but didn’t look angry. Lily looked back down at the dolly before she began to try and fix the face of the toy.

Anne’s face stayed scrunched from the impact. The soft beans inside were heavy and unwilling to move back into place. She looked back up at Doctor Porter who watched on. She then turned her attention back to Anne.

She winced, I’m sorry. She quietly told the doll as she began to pet her red yarn hair.

A female’s voice ran across her mind in a whisper, “That’s alright. I’ll be okay.”

Both she and Mr. Fox went still as something tingled in the back of Lily’s mind. Lily stopped petting the doll as the bracelet around her wrist felt cold against her skin.

The black stitched eyes stared unblinkingly back. Time seemed to still as the two gauged each other.

“Would you like to play more, Lily?” The doll whispered to her.

The tingle in the back of her mind got worse, and her bracelet felt colder. She inhaled and the inside of her nostrils felt crunchy like that night out in the shed.

She swallowed down a hard knot forming in her throat as she recalled the growl of The Wolf.

A low, baritone growl crashed against her senses from her beside her and she felt Mr. Fox fall against her side. The voice was clearer than the whisper. A man’s voice played out that seemed familiar, but not quite right.

“Go The Hell Away, Creep.” Mr. Fox snarled. She could feel his plush, velveteen exterior buzz against her skin, “We don’t want to play with you.”

“Lily?”

The vibrations against her skin from Mr. Fox stopped. The cold gave way to the warmth of the room. Her bracelet was just a dumb bracelet she couldn’t get off again, and she looked back up at Doctor Porter who frowned as she held her little stuffed lamb out.

Lily gave a soft breath she didn’t realize she had been holding as she looked back down at the Anne doll and quickly shoved it away from her toward the floor. She grabbed up Mr. Fox and hugged him tight to her chest.

“Oh-“ Doctor Porter began, before the older woman peered down at Anne and then back to her. She collected the doll; she returned her to a shelf where the black stitched eyes seemed to stay on Lily.

She hid behind Mr. Fox and could still faintly hear his growl as he faced out towards the doll.

She had never heard him like that before, but she was sure right now she wanted nothing to do with the other toy. She peeked back up at Doctor Porter who was writing quickly on her notepad. The scratch of her pen the only sound beyond the vent system above them before she set it down and smiled at Lily.

“Well then. We don’t have to play with Anne anymore if you don’t want too.” The doctor told her before she moved up from her seat. “How about we focus on something else for a little bit, hmm?”

Lily watched from behind Mr. Fox’s head. The growling softened only slightly as their attention turned from the doll to the woman. She reached up on a shelf away from Anne and pulled out a small box. She returned to them both and sat down in the chair across from her before she opened up the box on the table.

A word was written across a small square cardboard piece inside that said, ‘bathroom.’ With a picture of a toilet.

“Let’s look over some of these talk cards.” Doctor Porter offered, “That way you don’t have to write everything down on a white board. Sound good?”

Lily blinked at the box, while Mr. Fox finally settled down with a huff.

That sounded very good. She looked toward the office door out that she knew led into the hallway as she wondered when Barry might be back, very much wanting to see his dumb face again.

Mr. Fox reassured her he’d have to be back soon, because Doctor Porter couldn’t keep them here forever.

Barry

In a perfect world, Barry imagined he and Mikhail could have been friends.

They weren’t exactly different in their standings. Sons of prominent men with expectations laid on their shoulders. Families to look over, and power to inherit. Both mothers out of the picture, Mikhail’s dead. Barry’s somewhere in Florida.

Barry would have gone as far as to say that they were practically versions of each other with the unfortunate mishap of just being born to two different cultures.

He might have even liked Mikhail, were it not for the fact that Mikhail absolutely despised him.

Which made the smile on the bastard’s face feel like an animal baring its teeth as he sat across from Barry and took a long drawl from his coffee cup, “Dropping off Cassidy’s kids this morning?”

Huh. Barry considered, is this my life now? He had been locked into many conversations lately with a cup in his hand or stationed at a table. Perhaps it’s becoming a habit.

No one wanted to talk business or important life changes while doing practical things like jogging or just calling over the phone.

Maybe there was a single father’s walking group he could get into. Then Barry could invite them to meet him while he was doing something useful.

He needed better friends; or any friends, actually. He jealously noted how well Mikhail filled out his suit.

He was built like Enzo; just a little thinner. Where the hell did this bastard find the time to work out?

Did he have the beat on some sort of dad’s group?

Probably cliquey if he’s there already… Barry sucked on his teeth, “Yeah.” He muttered over his cup as he sought to devour the final dregs of his drink.

“Funny. Saw her in the drop-off lane with all three.” Mikhail muttered flatly.

Barry weighed his options. He pulled away from the mug rim to survey the room.

The barista at the counter was focused on the espresso machine while the cashier was attending to the latest money count. The Buzz was now sparse of patrons other than themselves and the priest, the morning rush vacated and previous lingering readers having moved on.

He looked back to Mikhail who also surveyed the room.

Would have to buy off the staff or they’d be collateral. He considered as he sized up his rival. The priest… not sure I’d be able to get out of that one with the diocese. The cameras in the security room would have to be cleared. The odd hours explained off. The old man would be pissed; a hit right now would probably spark a local war. The fall out was too high for something loud.

He wasn’t getting out of whatever this was. He set down the mug and drummed his fingers against it before he stated, “What can I do for you, Misha?”

“I just want to know why you’re so close to the school.” Mikhail retorted. The bite in his tone heightened, “You being here isn’t exactly a comforting sight.”

“It’s a coffee shop.” Barry muttered as he leaned back. He shook his head, “It’s off school property and open to the public. See sense. There’s no reason for me not to be here. My family attends too.”

Mikhail glowered. His scratched up knuckles hitting the light above them and reminding Barry of his own marred hands.

Barry wondered how many bones Mikhail’s fists had broken. He suspected they could make a contest out of it.

He smiled at Mikhail as Barry continued, “I’m allowed good coffee just as you are.”

“Sure you are. But what reason do you have to have been visiting the school to only then come here?” Mikhail shot back.

The Bratva tailing him was the last thing Barry needed.

If he hasn’t mentioned the kid yet, he doesn’t know. He sighed and deflated in his seat.

“You really want me to be up to something.” Barry snickered. Perhaps if he just gaslit the prick, Mikhail would just go away out of sheer annoyance. “What, family business not keeping you occupied enough? You gotta make up something out of me going places now, Misha? You getting a little stir crazy on me?”

“I just want to know why you’re here, Barry.” Mikhail shot back, “All this time, you haven’t bothered to show up. It deviates, and you only bring trouble.”

“Monitoring my habits...” Barry coated his voice in a laugh. “Stalker much?” He teased.

If he just kept playing it up… maybe this could work in his favor.

“Cut the bullshit, Russo.” Mikhail’s face was turning red. He might come across the table at Barry, instead of just walking away in a huff if he didn’t watch it. “I don’t want you anywhere near my kids.”

Barry gauged Mikhail with a flat stare as the silence grew pregnant between them in the wake of those words.

They really were the same fucking person.

Barry didn’t particularly care for it.

The only upper hand he had at the moment though was it was clear Mikhail didn’t know about Lily. The longer he could keep her name out of the Novikov’s mouths, the better.

He didn’t need them sniffing around the kid to settle an old score.

Unlike his dad, he wasn’t so sure they would be lenient to let a small pile of bodies go. While they couldn’t touch him, they could touch Belladonna Costa’s only granddaughter.

He licked is lips and his tongue clicked the roof of his mouth as he pondered his rival’s next move. Thoughts of what could befall Lily treaded into the dark corners of his mind as he weighed if this was true hostility, or expert posturing on Mikhail’s part?

Mikhail’s hands were wisely kept above table; but the scowl on his face kept the tension ratcheted between them.

Would Mikhail really be stupid enough to try something in The Buzz?

Of course he would. You were literally just contemplating it. He groused to himself.

In the current circumstances though- neither of them could afford anything flashy.

Before either could move, their stare down was interrupted by a familiar voice butting in,“You two look like you’re going to kill or fuck each other.”

In all her red lacrosse tracksuit glory, Cassidy Pompei appeared at the side of his table, “Do behave though boys.” She subtly pointed at the priest and gave a conspiratorial whisper “The Father’s right there. Let’s not all need to attend confession before noon.”

Mikhail nearly jumped out of his skin as the mother of three held two coffee cups in hand and gave an expectant look down at Barry, “Got your coffee. No sugar, right Baer?” There was a warm glint that lit her blue eyes.

It vanished as she turned to Mikhail and raised a blonde brow. Her lips pursed and her nose scrunched, “I’m afraid you’re ruining my coffee date with my cousin, Novikov.” She jerked her chin towards Barry with a pout, “He’s already through his first coffee.” She looked back to the blonde man, “Apologies for ruining your conversation, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t make me later than I already am.”

Mikhail scowled. His hand clenched and unclenched on his cup before he took another gulp. He gave Barry a once over, to which Barry rose his brows and pulled his lips back into a the most patient smile he could manage. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tangle with Cassidy more than Mikhail; but he wasn’t going to ignore her offered exit from this conversation.

“Sorry about that Misha.” Barry crooned softly, like he was truly sorry for this interruption, “We’ll have to pick this up another time.”

Finally hitting that nerve he had been striving for since the man sat down, Barry felt the lightning jolt of pleasure as Mikhail gripped his coffee cup so hard that the lid popped right off from the force. The light brown liquid splashed out.

He let out a swear as he jumped up, the liquid splashing the table and the sleeve of his fine suit. The yelp was loud enough to draw a look from the barista and the cashier; and even the priest stopped taking his notes.

Cassidy barely batted an eye as she offered him a wet wipe from the large duffle bag she kept on her shoulder which read, “Saint Angela’s Lacrosse.” And began to napkin up the high top in two fluid movements. She waved to the onlookers.

“No worries!” She called over to the staff, “Our friend’s lid was just a little off the rim!”

The woman at behind the counter flushed, “Oh- I’m so sorry about that! Sir, I can make you a new one if you’d like.”

Mikhail’s head whipped from Cassidy to the barista, his mouth wagged as he tried to find the words, “N-”

His cousin, who corralled a van full of hyper children before even the first cup of coffee, easily out maneuver him. “He’d love that!” She twisted her head to Mikhail with this same grace of a cat. Barry appreciated the predatory fluidity the woman displayed as she breathed, “Wouldn’t you?”

Poor bastard. Barry took his new coffee from Cassidy, and hid his smirk behind it’s lid.

Mikhail didn’t stand a fucking chance.

He looked to Barry who did his best to watch innocently on, before he then huffed at Cassidy with a smothered glower.

“Yes.” He growled from gritted teeth. Without another word, he picked up his soiled cup and marched back to the counter.

With a scoff, Cassidy dropped her duffle bag to the floor and squirmed onto the high top seat across from Barry. They both waited until the other man left the shop all together, a final glare sent their way with a brand new coffee cup in hand, before she turned to him.

Barry took another gulp of his new coffee and nearly shuddered as the fresh brew lit a fire in his belly and pulled heat down his spine. He then muttered, “He’s gonna remember that, ya know?”

“Oh really?” Cassidy began. Barry felt beneath the table to see if he could find a bug or any sort of listening device. He came up empty handed after he poked around the area the Russian had occupied.

“Really.” He confirmed as he looked around the seats just to make sure.

“Do you have to be such a dick to him all the time? You know he hates being called Misha.” Cassidy set her cheek on her hand as she watched him.

He soon climbed back up into his seat, “Well, if he didn’t want me to be rude to him; he should’ve just fucked off rather than bother with me.” Barry retorted. He gave her his full attention and gripped the to-go cup in both hands, “…But thanks for butting in there. I think he was about to pull some shit.”

“Mmhm.” Cassidy hummed as she drank from her cup, “What were you going to do if I didn’t?”

“Probably handle whatever he was about to do.” Barry knew it wasn’t a lie, but he also knew it wasn’t exactly the truth. He shrugged though and leaned back, “He didn’t like me being so close to the school.”

“Can you blame him?” She retorted, and Barry winced.

He couldn’t, but he waved it off, “No. But what are you doing here?”

He froze as Cassidy turned that predatory grin on him. Her eyes squinted and her bleached teeth glinted under The Buzz’s light.

“Uncle Antony said you were interested in joining the Parent-Teacher Association and taking the treasurer’s spot. Then mentioned you had brought Lily over for intake. As the Vice-President, I figured I’d follow-up and talk to you about schedules.”

His stomach dropped out of his backside as he thought about his old man’s conversation with him days before.

“You could probably clean up at the school’s Parent-Teacher’s Association.”

Barry watched as his father approached the small bar cart that lived behind the desk in his study. He unearthed the scotch decanter that had resided on it for at least three decades and began to fill one of his crystal tumblers.

He raised a second, empty glass towards Barry.

Barry rose his hand and shook his head, “No thanks. To both. Too busy for that kind of thing.”

“Well Baer, with a kid in your life now? You’re gonna end up involved. May as well not fight it and better position yourself to take it as it comes. Also Cassidy’s been looking for back-up at the monthly meeting. So- if you don’t mind.”

But Barry did mind.

He minded a lot in fact, but Barry considered his father’s words carefully.

“…What are you schemin’ at?” He decided to throw aside any pretense.

His father wandered back to the chairs in front of the fireplace, tumbler in hand. “Not scheming. But I think it’s time you start working the family-side of this business.”

The idea of him standing amongst a group of other parents, trying to work something as trivial as a bake sale, made him grimace. The last thing he wanted was to nearly come to blows over some Karen’s lemon bars because they didn’t have the right kind of sugar or nut in it.

Barry licked his lips as he tried to gracefully refuse, “Sorry pops, but I really don’t think me and the Catholic school PTA are gonna be a good mix there.”

Antony shrugged, “I’ll put in a few calls. They’re looking for a treasurer since Denice’s daughter graduated last year. It’s not as front-facing. Probably would be a good fit. Also- it’d help you make friends with the other parents.”

Who the fuck was Denice? Also, more people near Lily sounded like a nightmare. They were traversing esoteric powers that made her a walking landmine; and they hadn’t even hit puberty yet. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of normal folks around the magical first-grader.

“Hey- dad, I don’t think you’re listening. This isn’t a good id-“

He was cut off as his old man stated, “I mean, I was it’s President when you were in school.”

It may as well have been a bullet to Barry’s head. His protests died in his mouth and he silently sucked on the end of his cigar as he glowered at his old man.

The mob boss gave him a shit eating grin as he traded his scotch glass for his own stogie and said after a drag from the stogie, “Think about it.”

Before Barry could respond, Enzo’s heavy fist knocked on the door; cementing for them both the end of the discussion.

That son of a bitch. No doubt his dad had planned this from the moment he set the appointment up with the Dean. He let go of his coffee cup to rub his eyes.

“Listen- Cass. I don’t think it’s a good idea-“ He began, but she cut him off.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea. I could use the extra hands and a second car for pick-up and drop-off. Not to mention fundraising events.” Her tone was warm, but as he looked at his cousin’s wife, his stomach roiled with nerves as Cassidy’s lips were pulled into a smug grin. “And can you imagine how Francine is going to handle a man being the Treasurer? Oh man, I can’t wait to see her face.”

“Is… what’s with the sexism there? …And who the fuck, pray tell, is Francine?”

Barry could feel a second noose closing in around his neck. He could see the wheel’s turning in Cassidy’s blue eyes, the grin on her face nearly infectious if it weren’t at his expense.

This was just like when his dad told him he was going to be the Underboss. He wasn’t going to be able to get out of this either.

Maybe I should go back to Porter and see if she can talk with me about setting healthy boundaries. He mused as his blonde relative chuckled.

“Just the PTA President. She’s been a real queen bee lately, though. This might help level the playing field.” Cassidy continued around her cup. She waved, “What with a relative joining, and one good at money.”

“Your husband’s the finance guy, kid. Not me.” Barry scoffed as he picked back up his new cup, “Plus, I told you like I told Dad, I’m busy.”

“Even if it means you’ll be able to keep a better eye on Lily?”

He stilled and shot her a glare.

Cassidy’s grin stayed plastered to her face.

He felt like he traded one cut-throat villain for another. His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth as he wet his lips again before he rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair. He gave a low groan of annoyance as he rubbed the back off his neck to try and stave off the tension that was becoming too frequent at the base of his skull.

“It’d give up the ghost on the kid being around.” He breathed as he started to think it over.

“Oh, that’s going to happen regardless of what you do.” Cassidy snickered, “Just do you want to be the one steering that train, or get hit by it?”

She had a point. Much like before, he was on borrowed time.

He suddenly wished he was back home on his roof, a cigar in his hand and lungs full of smoke.

“Francine single?” He finally relented.

And Cassidy’s feral grin turned into a coy smirk, “Definitely not your type- but recently divorced.”

“Nice.”

His phone chimed. He glanced at it.

Doctor B. Porter flitted across the lit screen with a new notification:

We’ve finished intake, Lily’s ready for pick-up.
Please come back to the school.

“Send me the next meeting’s date.” He sighed as he grabbed his cup and bag up, “Thanks again for the save, Cass.”

“Uh-huh. Pay me back by being at this month’s meeting.”

Bernardo “Barry” Russo, ‘PTA Treasurer’ just didn’t have the same ring to it as ‘Underboss Russo.’

He’d show face at the meeting because Cassidy saved his ass, but the wheels were already turning in his head on how perhaps weaponized incompetence could make it so that nascent title didn’t stick.

A second text came in and he nearly tripped over the doorway on the way out as he saw the name flick onto it.

Cousin E:
Just finished developing up the film from Costas.
We need to talk.

Barry grimaced as he reached the stoplight to cross back over into the school campus. He pocketed his phone.

Nothing good was ever discussed when people ended their texts like that.

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Share The Storyteller's Path

I didn’t weigh in before I came because I feared what the scale would tell me. When I last did, we were cresting dangerously close to 230 lbs.

Now that I'm back in Philadelphia, I still haven’t weighed in, but my clothes feel right.

Two days after my return, 'I’ve begun to tear apart my bedroom in a mass purge of everything that doesn’t fit.

I’m tired of feeling ashamed or like a failure when what I combat is an over decades old stress-induced eating disorder, genetics, and a knack for hyper fixation that stalls any movement for the next 5-9 hours.

Shame and guilt over my body don’t work as motivators for me, frankly, they just piss me off.

But pleasure absolutely does; and my exercise has always found sustainment in just feeling good.

At 35, I figure it’s time to start thinking about what I want my health to look like when I’m 50 or 60. (Sexy 60-year-old is the fantasy), because the funny thing they don’t tell you in your teens and 20s is if you don’t start paying attention to your health early; you’ll lose it in the future.

It only gets harder as you get older.

A high cholesterol diet begins to clog your heart. Mass sugar and high fructose corn syrups slowly begins to cultivate into pre-diabetes.

That desk job you took begins to fuse the chair to your back and ass and the more your metabolism slows down, the harder it gets to unstuck yourself from it.

Until one day, the dose makes the poison and you find yourself staring down the barrel of every decision you made; and it’s Sisyphus’s boulder.

Your mountain to overcome it, is, upsettingly - the antidote; and it’s such a pain in the ass to roll that bitch uphill.

I was an extremely active child. Eleven years soccer, playing outdoors, hiking, climbing, and shoved into every gym class I never wanted to be in- but I’ve been known to be a practically immobile adult.

It’s why the moment I landed in Omaha, I asked my mom if we could walk after we got things home. I wanted and needed to move.

We did about two miles and I was a fountain of sweat.

My mother has been active since I was in single digits. She’s my hero on it, honestly; but even she’ll tell. Even if it looks easy; sometimes it’s hard as hell.

But if ever there was someone I trusted to help me start moving this slow ass train that is my body forward, I know it to be my mom.

The next day, we did weight training in the kitchen of my parents home, the lunges damn near killed me. The area above my knees were so stiff, going up and downstairs shot white hot pain up my legs and hips for two days.

The day after we walked and everything creaked.

The day after that though, I returned for the first time in over a year to a proper gym.

I blasted my thighs until they hit the cool, tingly stage that declared all lactic acid broken up; and we’d just begun hitting up against the point of failure.

I know it’s there new building can begin.

Chest press machine 3/10 @ 40 lbs
Pec flies 3/10 @ 35 lbs
Rear delt @ 3/10 @ 35 lbs
Back Extension 3/10 @ 140 lbs
Abdominal Crunch 3/10 @ 50 lbs
Calf Extensions 3/10 @ 70 lbs
Linear Leg press 3/10 @ 90 lbs added
Seated Leg Curls 3/10 @ 45 lbs
Stretching

The pain went away after; and I was glad I got to share it with my mom. It felt so good, I wanted to go back before my flight back to Philadelphia. Thankfully, we did just that.

It didn’t matter how much truthfully I was lifting, it only mattered that I was starting. That I was moving my body.

That I was doing something that felt good.

So much so, I left a voice memo to myself.

“I’m in Omaha around 6:19 AM and I’m walking on the treadmill after doing 10 minutes on the Stairclimber. This has been the best I’ve felt in years. I feel enough awake as the NBC TV at Planet Fitness shows me the butter cow sculpture that will make an appearance in Harrisburg during the big farmers conference they do out there, and I can’t help wonder what the future holds.

I’m going to be starting a new job next month and I pushed off the start date so that way I had a little time to get my head straight before I jump back into the fray. I don’t miss what I used to do; because I got very tired during that time. But I am… intrigued by what the future holds. I really hope with what [it] involves in the future that my husband and I can find a really good quality of life.”

And then I remembered of the better things that comes from when you begin to work out; and when you start to become active again.

The lovely brainwash of dopamine, endorphins, serotonin and other good hormones and chemicals that soak into the gray matter and creases of your brain. Buffering you against the mental obstacles that have a habit of popping up. For me, it’s the good ol’ generalized anxiety and social anxiety. Noise and light sensitivity with occasional migraine.

The first couple days, I still had sight floaters, but by day eight; I could listen to a door slam without flinching.

By day nine, the second guessing and doubts had quieted significantly and I stopped feeling the buzz in my mind that comes from anxious energy overload. I talked with the guy that’s going to be my new boss and felt excitement instead of acting like I was performing.

Now we’re on day 10, and I’m starting to get some energy back in the day-to-day. I’ll be swarmed at an adult book fair tonight, but I’m just looking forward to spending some time with friends.

I sleep harder and better, but I move faster and am more alert. It’s taken me about four nights now to see two Toho Godzilla movies all the way through because I fall asleep to them.

Stairclimber 13 minutes @ lvl 3-5
Treadmill 7 minutes - 2.5 - 3.0 pace @ 2 incline
Back Extension 4/10 @ 145 lbs
Abdominal Crunches 4/10 @ 55 lbs
Leg Press 4/10 @ 160 lbs
Rotary rotations 3/10 each side @ 80 lbs
Squats (Barbell) 3/10 @ 20 lbs
Dead lifts (barbell) 3/10 @ 30 lbs
Hip abductor 3/10 @ 50 lbs
Hip adductor 3/10 @ 50 lbs
Seated Leg Curl 4/10 @ 50 lbs
Calf Extensions 4/10 @ 80 lbs
Stretching

I’ve only looked at the scale once since I got back home, and I probably won’t again until I notice the clothes start feeling a little loose.

35 I’ve decided is the year the age that I stop wanting and start doing; and this is at the top of the list. I can’t write good stories if I’m dead to health issues like my grandfather; and I can’t think through the plots if I’m slowed down by my mind making an enemy out of itself.

I don’t pretend like I know what I’m doing. I know what the machines do. I know what muscle groups I'm praying I hit. I know what things I’m trying to avoid what I'm putting in my body.

But I am absolutely just chasing what feels good at the end.

I’m hardly a gym rat and I’ve learned health from a fitness addict (my mother) who’s taken it as far as she could. (Hopefully this gives her a laugh).

But while I flit from weight machine to machine and she climbs stairs; we both feel great afterwards.

And really, that’s really the thing I think I’m focused on here.

To tell you the truth, I love that crazy as hell overweight woman who’s showing up at the gym and crawling out of bed before the sun rises. No matter what size she is.

She’s trying her best and works damn hard. She deserves to feel good and amazing in whatever she puts on.

All I’m doing is making room for her to shine.

If you made it this far, thanks for showing up and throwing around some metal with me today.

We live for tips, tricks, and breaking down information silos. If something here resonated with you, or if you’re on your own health and fitness journey; feel free to leave a comment below.

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How this was made:
All art was designed utilizing free assets in Canva or through paper and pencil sketch. Occasional later graphic design may be developed in Procreate.

Photographs are taken by iPhone.

If it’s not my art, it will be cited.

All writing is first drafted in a word app such as Apple’s Notes or Pages.

All formatting is done on Substack.

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Three days earlier

Two hundred miles north of Rose City, settled on the edge of the Atlantic ocean in the inlet where Garnet Harbor resided; a van sat three-blocks down from the cul-de-sac where the last of the Costa crime family had stayed.

Two figures sat inside. They were donned from head to toe in white and gray while they were warmed by the van heater as the windshield wipers kept the snowstorm at bay.

The taller and broader of the two drummed his fingers against the wheel as he waited for the final patrol to go past for the evening. The cops had upped their rounds since the murder, but the cut in their numbers made it so an hourly patrol couldn’t be sustained throughout the night.

He tried not to think about the smell of the bodies from the shipping container as he mulled over why they were here.

“I need a favor.”

The clink of ice against his whiskey glass disrupted the silence in the statement’s wake. He felt his stomach drop as he got the feeling this wasn’t going to be a typical ask from the Underboss.

He ran his hands through his beard and set his tumbler on his knee. Condensation dripped down the glass onto the small cross he had stick-poked tattoo’d between his thumb and index finger, “What kind of favor, Cuz?”

Before the man even spoke, Enzo knew this was going to be a pain in the ass.

Barry took a long drawl of the barrel-aged whiskey they shared while they sat across from each other on the plush gray sectional in his living room, “One that needs to happen fast, Enny.”

Enzo could still taste the whiskey in his mouth.

Part of him felt like he should have seen this coming.

There were too many questions on the board about Lily, and Belladonna Costa’s death; and since Barry was pinned down with childcare, he was only going to be further stuck with whatever new familial expectations had been laid at his feet.

The man had his hands tied with the prospect of fatherhood on his shoulders and the solidification of the family’s legacy now at play.

All pressures he did not envy.

Enzo knew from his time working between the families that was why Barry called in his right to delegate. He knew there was a sharp mind in that tired man’s head.

One that occasionally scared the shit out of him.

Enzo supposed that was why his cousin was the Underboss though; and not his own dad, or Uncle Ricky.

He was broken from his thoughts as Katherine O’Sullivan shifted in her seat and sneezed.

He’d called her with a job, and like always, she agreed.

It’d been that way since he’d ran into her in a mall’s security office when they were teenagers after attempting to partake in a five-fingered discount. They’d gotten caught because they’d argued over the score.

They’d been let off with a warning.

In the future, he wouldn’t find himself so lucky, and would do the time for battery and grand larceny.

She however, would never get caught again.

The woman sniffled as she gave a shiver and grimaced. Her ski-cap was rolled up tightly over her ears. Small copper curls that were reminiscent of his Aunt Luna’s peeked out beneath its lip. Her insulated catsuit squeaked against the car leather.

The faint Irish mixed with urban lilt on her lips made her sound nearly casual against her dour expression as she looked to him, “Why does it have to be during the snowstorm, Pompy? This is going to be more cold than anything. Police just cleared out this morning. Doubt there will be something left.”

“Cops aren’t moving that fast yet, Kat. Ain’t like someone’s looking to buy the house up. Storm’s good cover though, plus, they haven’t called in the cleaners yet.” Enzo retorted as he flexed his fingers in his gloves.

The chill outside from the ocean-fed storm had just about destroyed visibility. They were perfect conditions for what they were about to do.

“Why can’t you ever call me in for easy jobs?” The cat burglar muttered. She rocked forward in her seat and he watched as her dextrous fingers fumbled around before she unearthed a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket. “Ones with nice private beaches and lazy security? Ones that aren’t in a house that’s gonna be most definitely haunted?” She tapped one free.

Enzo held out his hand, “Share.” He demanded, and her hazel eyes narrowed on him.

She glowered, then handed him the unearthed cigarette before she pulled out a second one for herself.

She insulted him with an, “entitled prick.” To which he shot her a toothy grin before he slipped the stick behind his ear and skullcap for later.

“The day you choose some tropical paradise is the day ya get bored.” He retorted before he saw headlights on the approach to their position. He adjusted in his seat to get a better look out the window as he continued, “plus, Sully, ghosts ain’t real.”

“Sure they are, ya big lug. You’re just too numb to see them.”

He shrugged as he checked the dash clock that illuminated with the neon green ‘1:00 AM’ and listened to the police scanner hidden behind their seats as it rang off with a new call from the Garnet Harbor Precinct and Squad Car 14 as they called in that they were headed back.

He said nothing further as he waited for their taillights to disappear from sight. Their contact in the office had said the next patrol would happen at 4:00 AM with the morning shift’s arrival.

The police were starting to get distracted with the more pressing matter of Garnet Harbor’s Finest not reporting for over a week now.

Enzo changed his mind on saving the cigarette for later. He lit it to chase away the smell of rot and blood from his mind as he thought about the shipping container again.

About how one of the dead cops eyes peered up at him in the glow of the flashlight and the wave of rot that soaked into his lungs. Or how a frigid breeze carried a worse stench than any of what he cleaned up when he was back in the clink or while working body disposal at Ricardo Russo’s pig farm.

It made him feel sick on the inside and out.

The tobacco and nicotine soon engulfed them both in a thick coat of smoke that hotboxed the van’s interior. After a small debate, they risked cracking the windows to make sure they could ash the cigarettes appropriately, and air out the majority of the smoke.

If he had his way, he and Kat would be dust in the wind by 4:00 AM.

… The snowflakes were fluffy enough that he suspected the blizzard would bury their tire treads by the time they departed.

The house stood vacant of any activity or welcome as the van rolled up to the curb beside it. With any luck, the plows in the morning would also ruin any signs of their arrival.

The first thing he noted was that a shed was kept at the front of the house, instead of in the back. It was closed with an ‘x’ across the doors that read in yellow tape with black words: POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS.

He made sure the utility pack strapped to his hip was stocked with spare tape for just such an occasion. He lumbered into the back of the van while Kat readied from the front.

She pulled out a laptop from beneath her seat as she called back, “So we take pictures- and grab what, again?”

“The exact words I got were: Snag weird bullshit I can find at Belladonna Costa’s house!” Enzo hollered over as he pulled tools down from his shelves.

Foot covers, rubber gloves, bags, the tape dispenser and more were ushered into the utility belt around his hips. He checked the holstered Desert Eagle he kept hung in the back and made sure the magazine was loaded with the safety on before he strapped it across his chest and below his left arm. “So use your best judgement, Kat. More pictures are better. You’re more hooked into weird bullshit than I am; so if you think it stinks- snag it.”

He could hear her typing as she hummed in acknowledgement.

He looked over to watch as small electronic windows were partially rewound, looped, and set to run with an accurate timestamp included on her screen while she handled the new surveillance system that had been installed on the block, “And- and this is the final time I’ll ask this, why aren’t we just sniping the police reports on all of this?”

Enzo rolled his eyes, “Told you, they didn’t pass the Boss’s sniff test.”

“Because BB is now somehow a forensics expert?”

Enzo understood the irritation. Hell, he empathized with it; but he knew better than to question further.

He finished his load up and moved back to the front as she wrapped up her work.

As soon as he watched her exit from the program, he reached over and gently shut the laptop on her lap. “If you were gonna bust my balls about this- you should’a done it before I rolled up, Kat.” He muttered, he then glowered, “Also, don’t bitch about Barry.”

Katherine glowered at him before she shoo’d his hand away like he was no more than a pesky fly who dared to buzz near her, “I’ll bitch however I please, Pompy.” She got to her feet as she moved for their exit, “What is it that he’s so worried about that’s got us out here in bum-fuck-nowhere- that the place’s own cops can’t figure out?”

If they weren’t pressed for time, he might have stopped and elaborated on the need for the redundancy.

Instead, he followed her and opened the van’s rolling side-door. They sat one at a time on the edge of the vehicle floor and equipped the gloves over their boots, the reverse geometric grips sliding into place against their soles and ruining any identifiable marks as they strapped the bottoms over the footwear.

He kept the van in idle as he locked everything up but the rolling door facing the house.

He yanked up his coat’s hood and she pulled down her rolled up ski-mask over her face.

The snow immediately clung to them once they were clear of the van as they made their way for the shed. The arctic camouflage of their wear blended them right into the storm.

There wasn’t any reason not to tell her, “Get the camera ready.” He shot over, before he reached the doors and grabbed the tape. “Costa was his mentor.” He began, “He came up working between her and old man Russo. Ways I hear it, she taught him probably half of what he knows and is why ‘Brutal’ ever got put on his name.” Enzo shook his head as he yanked the first corner of the tape off, and then the bottom strip.

He did the same for the second, “Their story is like, a legend of sorts in the families. It’s a whole young buck meets seasoned vet thing.”

“That’s just called personal bias.” Kat breathed out in a puff of fog. The snow had begun to build up on the right side of her head in the blizzard, “And why’s it a legend? Can’t you just ask him about it?”

Enzo grabbed the latch for the shed and grunted as he lifted it up to open the door, “Sure, Kat. Let me ask ‘Brutal’ fuckin’ ‘Barry’ how the fight he almost lost his hand in, really went? When the ending is that he left a room full of bodies that pissed off the Russians so bad, that by only the Costa’s negotiating prowess, did we ever get him back. That’ll go well.”

“Ugh, fine. But you know why they call it a ‘legend,’ right?” His partner readied the camera as he pulled the door fully open, “It’s just a story, hell, some might even say a myth. Just blown up bullshit. I mean- almost losing his hand doesn’t count.”

The whiff of wood and dirt made Enzo wonder if it was just a gardening shed as he swallowed down what hesitancy he had in remembrance of the cargo container, and illuminated the interior.

An unremarkable inside stared back at him. Long tables sat along the sides and the back wall with gardening equipment elevated on wall hooks. He spotted a shovel and a trowel in the back right corner, and ran his flashlight over multiple ceramic pots and long boxes. A couple bags of fertilizer and potting soil laid towards the front, no doubt frozen solid at this point from the cold.

He paused over a single point, tucked beneath the back left corner of the shed that now had chalk marks along it. A disruption in the dust that began from beneath the table towards the lip of the shed’s entrance. Too small to be an adult, and too big to be an animal.

As he studied it, he noticed similar areas beneath the tables.

He pointed at it, “Hey. Snag a shot of that.”

“Yeah. Will do.” Kat’s voice sounded distant. Enzo turned his attention back to the woman to find her gaze on the door in his hand. He blinked and followed it as she rose her finger and pointed, “But I’m gonna take back what I said, he might’ve been on to something.”

Enzo stared at the jagged cuts in the stabilizing bar across the door frame. They were roughly the length of his palm to finger tip each, and the width of a nickel; as though they were cut with a knife or some sort of whittling blade.

His mouth opened to speak, but then shut as he furrowed his brows.

He couldn’t understand what the hell they said.

He flinched as the flash of the camera went off as she snapped a picture. He glanced back at her.

Kat’s lips were pulled down as she winced with a glower, “That is definitely some ‘weird’ bullshit.”

… As much as he was eager to get into the house, after they had found the, ‘rune-works’ as his partner called them, she had insisted they run the house’s perimeter in the snow trails the cops had left to get a better look.

They had found four other sets of identical markings located on the property. One was in a tree that sat just on the edge of the woods, another on the inside of a garden box by the house.

Both entry ways had their own carved nearby.

“Probably points of a star. Like a pentagram.” Kat surmised once they had the pictures and had begun to work the locked door and deadbolt, “Do ya think ol’ Costa turned Wiccan or Neopagan?”

“Probably not. Most of the families back then ran devout Roman-Catholic.” Enzo rubbed his gloves together to try and stave off the cold. The snow had built up on their clothes and his face burned from the chill, “Costa’s included.”

“Maybe she dabbled?” The door gave a ‘click’ as she got the locks undone and slipped her picks away.

He shook his head. “Dunno.”

He reached over and opened it.

It had been aired out from the foot traffic that had occurred over the past week; but a layer of rot, stinking cheese, and defecation wafted across his senses as soon as the interior warmth rushed outside to greet them.

Kat gagged. Her body convulsed in a dry heave before she swallowed, “Oh god, no. No no.” She shook her head, “I can’t go in there.” She offered him the camera, “You. You do it.”

“Give it a bit and you’ll go nose blind.” Enzo promised with a sigh, “Until then, breathe through your mouth.”

“That’s worse. I don’t want to taste it! Death and bullshit is your thing; not mine!” She protested, and he rolled his eyes.

“You aren’t gonna taste anything but your mask.” He retorted, and with a heavy hand, shoved her in front of him. He shut the door behind them after she stumbled in and he followed.

“Ass!” She spat and Enzo just shook his head.

They had a job to do. He threw a towel to her from his pack. She quickly wiped down her boots and clothes before she threw it back at his face.

He caught it on reflex and did the same. It was only once he threw it in a plastic bag and tied it to his utility belt that he noticed just how quiet it was.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he dropped his hood and turned the flashlight on down the foyer hall. Even the winter storm that roared outside was muffled to almost silence in here.

“What the fuck…” Kat whispered in unison with his mind as he stared at the brown stained walls and large gouges that ran along them.

Enzo studied them for a moment, before his mind turned to the task at hand.

He lowly ordered, “Sully, make sure to get a picture of that.”

Her voice fell quiet as she swallowed and rasped, “Yeah. Sure.”

The heavy silence of the ranch-style house felt oppressive as he passed by her to peer into the open archway on the right. The whiff of old blood smelled stronger in here, and as he looked around he soon figured out why.

Enzo let out a low whistle.

The debris had been cleared away, but the damage was extensive. There was a mass bare spot where a couch had likely been, but the light revealed a window where curtains had once hung. A brown splatter ran across the wall on both sides of the window. He turned to hover his light on the wall directly beside him and grimaced.

The dark brown of dried blood laid splattered here too. There were clear carvings in the wallpaper where the police had cut away samples. What caught his attention was where multiple holes decorated sections of it, like something massive sprayed apart and blew through it.

“That looks like buck shot.” He muttered as he waved Kat down and took the camera from her. Wordlessly, she traded the camera for his flashlight, and he took a couple of photos. But why would she use buck shot?

There were far better weapons for home safety.

He took a few steps back to get a whole picture of the room before he heard her gasp. He shot a look to her, only to follow her gaze again as it locked onto the fireplace.

Enzo tried to understand what he was seeing; but it felt like his mind did a record skip.

The dry wall he could’ve excused, but the gouges ran parallel along the brickwork vertically and in a diagonal. Something had cleaved right through solid brick. He followed the trail up, and then down and froze as could see the large brown stain on the hard wood floor.

Small marks of the police scraping and swab wipes broke what had likely once been a large puddle of blood.

He looked back up at the fireplace and took a step forward.

“Pom-” Katherine began, but she went quiet as he raised his gloved hand up and spread his fingers.

He tried to understand what it meant as the marks matched the width of his hand and aligned with his fingertips. He looked back down to the floor, and kicked the carpet lightly to see the start of what appeared to be a ruddy-brown, clawed, paw print.

“…Do you think…” he began, “Maybe a bear?”

“What fucking bear does this?” Kat’s voice trembled and he looked to her. He could see her eyes were wide. She followed the paw print to find another, and then another as they noted a trail out the living room door and down the hall.

She had begun to violently shake, her voice tight in a whine, “Why would there be runes on the property and a bear? It’s March.”

“There are woods out the back.” He looked towards the hallway and sucked down the feeling in his gut that whispered they weren’t supposed to be here. He resisted the urge to take back the flashlight from her and turn it against the dark as it triggered some primal fight-or-flight within him.

The same one that he used to pay attention to when other inmates looked a little too frequently his way or when it was clear he was outnumbered.

Something was most certainly wrong in this house.

“They’re all hibernating.” Kat’s breathing had heightened as she shook her head. “Enny I don’t want to be here anymore. This is bad. Please. It’s weird enough. Let’s just go.”

The bears would be hibernating.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the archway as something in him screamed.

Though he could see the hall and the muffled streetlight from the glass top of the front door, he could feel the tension in the air as though a predator was on the approach.

Kat’s hands shook and the light jiggled. The house grew quieter between her breaths.

She’s right, no fucking bear did this. It was a whisper so soft, he almost didn’t catch the stray thought.

But that’s when he noticed how cold it was, and how her breath ushered out into a light fog, even though they were indoors.

He acted.

Without a word, Enzo crossed the room and yanked the flashlight from her. He shoved her behind him. Her back was to the living room while he rose the flashlight at the entrance to the foyer and the camera.

He saw nothing.

The flash went off as he took the picture.

Flash! Snap! Whine!

Something shrieked out in the dark.

His blood run cold as the camera’s picture screen reflected back a dark hole around gray pustule flesh.

A pitch surrounded by bruised skin, and rotting sinew.

Pressed right up against the camera lens.

He felt his lip raise as he bared his teeth as that same primal instinct to run screamed at him and hit its fever-pitch.

He tried to keep a grip on it as Katherine spotted the picture and yelped, “Fuck this!”

She broke for the archway.

“NO!” Enzo barked. He reached for her and just managed to grab hold of the back of her suit before he yanked her into his chest and arms.

She let out a choked gasp that turned into a scream as an invisible force crashed against the archway where she would have been standing.

He tucked her head beneath his chin as he shielded her from plaster, wood, and drywall as the impact ripped apart the entryway construction like a wrecking ball.

He turned the camera outward and pressed the button again.

Flash! Snap! Whine!

The creature had pinned itself to the corner of the room. He could see it looked like a woman, her lips bared to reveal black gums and yellowed teeth.

The flesh almost fell from her bones as he could see a long spinal column hang from her torso.

Where were her legs?

He pressed forward and pulled Kat with him through the archway as she shrieked and sobbed. The home’s entryway to his back and the long hall to his front.

Flash! Snap! Whine!

The blizzard raged outside as he walked backwards and kept Katherine with him. He could see it had poked its head out into the hallway to look at them with those depthless eyes. Long fingers spread around the archway and against the cracks.

He kept his gaze forward as he gritted his teeth and began the walk backwards towards the front door. He kept his arms crossed around her, camera out and flashlight level.

Flash! Snap! Whine!

The thing had moved to the ceiling; and the dark pushed forward against his light. He could see tendrils of black cut through the light the flash had caused, sprouted up like jagged pikes through the large gouging cracks within the wall.

Flash! Snap! Whine!

He had reached the entrance door, and shoved Kat behind him. He could hear her breath rattle and the sound of the deadbolt turn.

The monster was on the ground, just barely a foot ahead of them.

Every fiber of him screamed to get away. Shrieked to get out.

Flash! Snap! Whine!

The creature hung from the ceiling right before him, no longer on the camera screen.

The sickly scent of rot, decay, and blood filled his lungs.

He heard Kat’s shriek as his ears rang until the world fell mute.

He thought of the cop’s head and that glazed look in their eyes of horror once again.

“What the hell is this?” He whispered.

Cold ushered into his body from behind as gnarled, hanging-flesh and bone hands slammed into his chest. His world froze.

BANG!

Pain ripped through his right ear as Katherine O’Sullivan, with a force he had only once felt in her convictions and temper, yanked him back into the outside world.

His Desert Eagle smoked as it shook in her hands.

They crashed to the ground as the creature on impact was knocked down the hallway and into the dark of the kitchen with an inhuman shriek.

The cat burglar slipped and struggled to her feet as she grunted and whimpered in pants. She grabbed the doorknob with both hands and slammed it shut with a snarl.

He laid there stunned as the thief hovered over him, his hands on the camera and something heavy on his chest.

She slapped his cheek to snap him out of it, “Pompy!” She yanked up her ski-mask and snarled, “We got to go!” She grabbed his coat collar and gave it a yank, “We’ve got to go right now!”

“Sully…” He whispered as he stared up at her, “Your hair.”

White strands hung where brilliant copper had once been. They practically blended in with the snow around them now.

She panted as she swallowed down what breath she could get, and gave another tug on his collar, “Your’s too. Now. Let’s. Go!”

She gave a stronger tug, and he got to his feet.

He looked down at the camera as she swiped up the flashlight.

That was when he noticed the book in his hands. He was too stunned to move, but another yank pushed him forward. He lumbered after her to the van.

The heat felt like fire as they ushered inside, and he dropped the book on a back seat with the camera.

His body moved on autopilot while his mind felt like it was locked behind a glass wall. He locked them inside and drove them out of the cul-de-sac.

His desert eagle stayed in her lap as neither of them said a word.

It was Katherine who broached the silence once they exited city limits.

“So… do you think… that was what killed her?” Her voice had softened to a point he could barely hear her.

Enzo stared ahead at the road, the air vents brought feeling back to his fingers and toes. His face had stopped burning from the cold.

He didn’t want to look at her, or the rearview mirror to see what the encounter had done.

Part of him prayed none of it was real, and this was just having a terrible dream about a stupid favor his cousin had asked him.

“Enny?” Katherine asked, and the childhood name pulled him back as he white knuckled the wheel.

This wasn’t a dream.

“No.” He managed after he steeled himself and tried to swallow the reality of what they had just walked from, “She didn’t have claws.”

“Then… do you think Barry knew she was going to be there? Since he said to look for weird stuff?”

The thought stunned him back into silence.

Enzo scrutinized why his cousin would send him up here if he knew such a thing like that monster was there. He contemplated if Barry would have knowingly walked them into danger?

The younger cousin reached his conclusion rather swiftly.

“No.” He repeated as he turned them onto the main highway back to Rose City, “But, he definitely knows something.”

Continue to Chapter Nine

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Meanwhile, my entire career has revolved around being persistent until I’m crispy, or I’ve achieved my set rules of victory.

Thus my response to that random data point is what you’re getting now.

If you’re new here - Welcome Wanderers, Dreamers, Enthusiasts and Readers!

I’m absolutely delighted that you’ve arrived!

By the time this comes out, this publication is three months old and construction has become a constant. We’re not quite solidified in identity yet, but we’re getting there.

I’m Cassondra Tempest and I run and write The Storyteller’s Path.

Subscribe now

I have yet to do any sort of formal introduction other than my Reset and Launch Article, but you can find my general modus operandi here on Instagram; where I’d like to think it’s metal, plants, whimsy, whiskey, a side of absolute goofballery noir with a wave of smoke, and a lot of pictures of my Senior and Junior Office Managers, Maximus and Jack Eliot.

The Cat Tax is Real and it Must Be Paid.

But, if you don’t have instagram because you’re sane and value your mental health?

Here’s the gist:

In 1999 I wrote a story that made it to the military base’s school newspaper.

It was about some kids doing a séance in an old abandoned house and the main protagonist vanishes at the end. I titled it, “Contact from the Other Side.”

While my parents and I were very proud of my early work (I mean, I actually finished something- can you imagine?) making it in front of an audience, it also resulted in the phone calls of several concerned parents (whoops).

I don’t think it’s supposed to be literal when you find your calling.

But obviously, I didn’t stop.

And so neither did the calls 🤣!

Because as it turn out, writing fanfiction in your notebook instead of paying attention in class may in fact cause your 9th grade HomeEc teacher to raise an eyebrow when she reads your nascent, disturbing prose and go, “sir/ma’am, we need to talk about your child’s writing.”

Who knew?

But since then, I’ve been titled ‘The Writer’ of my family.

Add:

• Some rather fanatical parasocial fancies from my fanfiction days that inspired me to write extensively.

• A Granny who was one hell of a storyteller and made you dream about Bigfoot in Arizona.

• A metal-head Father who taught history through stories and developed my pop-culture tastes through old mob movies, horror, music and metal concerts.

• A plant-obsessed, extremely supportive, encouraging, scientifically-minded Mother (and my biggest fan).

• Some hysterically silly decisions in my 20s that ended up being informative adventures.

• And a love for accents that resulted in a hallmark-level love story which concluded in me getting married to a TTRPG-loving goofball from New Jersey (who is now my permanent first-draft reader).

And you now have what I believe shapes my writing and art.

Fast forward to the beginning of 2026 where after a decade and a half-long service career: I got laid off by Uncle Sam, thus triggering a much needed reexamination of my career and life choices.

And now you have how I’ve come to be writing to you.

After years of letting the 24/7 9-to-5 grind devour my creativity and hitting burnout so bad, my brain felt like it had literally hardened in my skull and my health was in the trash, I finally said Enough.

We’re not getting any younger, and life is too short to not do what you love.

I aspire to have a voice that haunts and makes your head turn to look over your shoulder just in case something is there.

Or to just tickle your fancy and makes you laugh in the sheer silliness of what you read.

So here at ‘The ‘Path,’ as I like to call it, I provide an amalgamation of my attempts to build fictional serial stories, reflective pieces, and short brainchildren that I’ve decided to unleash upon the world.

My hope is they haunt, or even inspire others to put their own work out there; and their achievement is giving your brain a nice think when you least expect it.

Additionally, it is a way for me to build an audience, strengthen my voice, and set forward the brickwork for eventual publishing.

Be it under a mass publisher or through self-publishing; I’m documenting my journey along the way.

The Newsletters

The morning I began drafting this newsletter started with my neighborhood’s weekly Shut Up and Write session where I plotted out chapters seven through fifteen of Schoolwork and Cement Shoes.

This felt like an accomplishment because for the twenty-four years I’ve been writing, I had been pantsing my way through almost every story I’ve ever written.

The shift that’s occurred is I’ve stopped becoming bored by knowing how it ends and have instead become fascinated on the journey it takes to get there.

In that spirit, I’ve been drafting this newsletter since July 6th.

But in that moment, I felt proud. I basked in the tenth week I planned to post my story since I’d begun work on it, and the twenty-eighth week since I lost my job and decided to take my writing “seriously” again.

That celebrated moment was shortly followed by going home and an electric company telling me I couldn’t enter their worksite to get into my apartment building, despite it blocking our main entrance.

I then received an apology for the inconvenience as I buzzed myself in anyways.

But the interaction got me thinking.

Cloud Gazing One

Here’s an Urban World-Building tip from a city dweller:

• If you want to add some flavor to your urban setting, make sure you have a public works project or two somehow inconveniencing your protagonist.

• It doesn’t have to be major, but just intrusive enough to make them irritated somewhere between a half second to their whole day, depending on what it’s doing.

• From there, you can demonstrate their time living in the city against their level of initial irritation to the obstacle and how long that irritation lasts.

  • The longer they’ve been there, the less they’re going to be annoyed; having just accepted it as a factor of life and their local urban ecosystem.

In the meanwhile, I’ve gotten pretty comfortable talking to random construction workers while trying to traverse my way to my apartment or car 😂.

Tip aside, here’s what is going to happen.

I’m considering the development of two newsletters because everything I want to put into it can’t be cleanly incorporated into just one.

• The Storyteller’s Path Newsletter will post on a monthly basis at the end of the month.

  • With the exception of this first issue, it will start free, but after being available for three weeks freely, it will be moved behind the paywall.

  • It will contain:

    • Route-Planning - Any specific external-submissions I’m pursuing.

    • Signposts! - These will be general updates on article series, new articles that occurred over the past month, or new notices involving the current pieces that have a posting schedule and will occur for transparency.

      • For July, the FIRST SIGNPOST was released separately from the newsletter due to a mid-month change up in scheduling.

        • It will be incorporated into the newsletter moving forward.

    • Cloud Gazing - What I have been up to from a creative sense, plus general tips that have helped me.

    • Random Encounters - Any relevant life developments or updates; such as employment, manuscript development, my cats, constantly growing or dying apartment garden I keep, or adventures.

    • Trail Markers - What media has been obsessing or inspiring me lately.

      • This month it’s been the Dungeon Crawler Carl series, and the Apothecary Diaries.

        

• Behind the Screen! The second newsletter will be for paid subscribers only - and is still being fully concept and development worked before I fully green light it.

  • This is a more ambitious project for me, so I’m evaluating its posting frequency and what makes sense in combination with the other projects.

    • A sustainable scope and writing process before I kick this off is my priority. I want to be able to meet whatever commitment I can set. Particularly if what I’m going to be providing is asking for subscription fees.

  • Now, what will Behind the Screen! likely contain?

    • Thoughts and notes on the current serial or stories under development, including any scenes that were cut out from earlier chapters before they hit the web.

      • This will include any thoughts of how it could have gone instead; and possibly the inspiration of where it comes from.

    • Additional artwork that accompanies the story that I’ve developed in Canva, Sketched, or Procreate.

    • Journal notes on build out that I’ve done to support pieces, including additional family history or lore.

    • Looks into possible upcoming projects that have reached ‘editing’ stages. I draft a bunch of stuff, but not all of it gets brought forward for an article.

      • This is a half-accountability measure to myself, and a half-notice measure for readers so I'm steadfast in getting things done.

• You can expect a more informed update on what’s going to happen in the August newsletter, including on if I decide to cancel the second newsletter all together.

Both of these models are fluid as I decide what works best for my project scope, balance maintaining some form of quality of life from beyond my computer, and whatever happens after I find employment.

I don’t want to burn out while I work to build this into something further than just what it is now. So, once full-time employment is back on the table, the whole thing will likely have to readjust.

In July

For this month, this newsletter containing my introduction and my current plans are the main body. But I do have some updates for Random Encounters and Cloud Gazing.

Encounter 1

This month I’ve been in communication with not one, but two potential avenues of new full-time employment.

• One has been with something I interviewed for at the end of June that went really well. They’ve been in communication and we’re seeing what manifests.

• The other had an interview yesterday, on July 30th, in communications. The position could possibly continue to sharpen my writing and community engagement skills; in addition to tightening up my public messaging.

Either of these positions will get me where I need to go. The only difference is going to be the level of outside effort required to develop towards my stated goals above and what packages they offer.

In my mid 30s, determining specific avenues is a balance of what’s realistic (how are you going to pay the bills?) and what’s required (what do you need to feel full in life?).

Thankfully, either of these avenues could hit potentially both.

Encounter 2

Creative wise, my husband and I took a visit to the Universal Studios Exhibit at the Franklin Institute to learn about the behind-the-scenes build up of creating engaging and interactive experiences within the theme parks in Orlando, Japan, and Hollywood, and attended the New Jersey Book Crawl.

Beyond the constant wild engineering that is roller coaster design, what I found really interesting at the exhibit was the design and scene coordination team working together to orchestrate a horror scene through sound effects, lightning, music, and moment cueing.

While they’re focused on immersive experience, it reminded me of how when writing, it’s important to play on the five senses when developing scenes and envelop the reader in the moment.

I find the difference between the written word and experience though is also leaving enough gaps for a reader’s mind to fill in their own information. Being hyper specific tends to leave no room for the scene to breathe and being too vague will lose the readers.

Encounter 3

In addition to my visit, I had the fortune of being asked to do an alpha read of an acquaintance’s first chapter for their romantasy manuscript.

Which brought another question to consider in writing, tangentially related to the prior experience.

“How do we make this scene punch the feels?”

How does a writer connect the reader enough with their character to not only care about them, but start to feel for them?

How do we build in the tension and necessary infrastructure that when the conflict point in a scene crescendos, the reader feels it in their bones?

Thoughts?

In Tabletop Roleplaying Games (TTRPG) and general roleplaying community, we call this ‘Bleed.’ 1

But for writing, it got me thinking about how the micro-details we might want to make vague, may instead start to become the staples that build the journey to make a specific scene or conflict particularly devastating to our main characters and hit hard with the reader.

So how do we build the essence enough that perhaps, the reader is hit too?

While this is me just reflecting on a particularly constructive discussion with my acquaintance, it got me thinking more on the depth we can try and bring to our works through the selective flushing out and build out of such moments.

Cloud Gazing Two

I’ve seen this done particularly well when it comes to “A Court of Silver Flame,” by Sarah J. Maas, and the absolutely crushing scene in the mountains with Nesta Archeron and Cassian in the latter half of the book.

If you’re not a Nesta fan, this scene may’ve missed you. For me though, I was sobbing my eyes out along with the main as she absolutely broke in the reflection of the past events, and empathized with the internal contention points of her own self-perception.

If you have read the book, you know exactly the point I am speaking too- so let’s consider it’s poignant impact rather than elaborate further, (I don’t want to ruin it for any who haven’t caught up; so no spoilers given we have book 6 and 7 on the horizon).

Other media I have seen this also well executed is in the series “The Apothecary Diaries” by Natsu Hyūga and “Dungeon Crawler Carl” by Matt Dinniman."

Two very different series but both of which build moments and feelings that make you lock-in and feel Maomao’s complex conflict over her parents involvement in her life and Carl’s rage and defiance over a hyper-corporate entity that has stolen away literally every aspect of his life.

I think the emotional resonance of a piece only helps a writer build their voice to connect further with the readers; and holistically provides a more complete reading experience.

Admittedly, this being the edition one, I’ve no good way to conclude this point. If you have suggestions of what you would like to see in this newsletter in the future- go ahead and leave them down in the comments.

Leave a comment

But until then, I’ll leave you here for now and see you again next month!

Thank You for Reading!

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Four days later

Lily

Barry’s car glided on the road while two men on the radio talked about gas prices. Lily remembered Granny used to say after she heard the cost of gas was rising, that they shouldn’t take any trips anymore, because it would be too expensive.

But she and Barry had taken a lot more trips over the past three days than she and Granny had ever taken in the same period of time.

The day after they visited Nonno Russo’s, they had gone to a place called, ‘Bullseye.’ There, Barry had bought her new school supplies, a backpack, and a lunch box. He had also gotten her three boxes of fairy lights.

They put them up in her room after they came home that same day.

Then they went to the grocery store the next day. He had given her a quarter to ride on a small horse machine that rocked and neighed after she fed it into the machine.

She had almost not wanted to leave after the ride ended because she had so much fun on it!

She looked down to the charm bracelet around her wrist and then the dark spots beneath the front seats of the vehicle. Before they had begun those trips though, she had agreed to wear the bracelet when they went out, at least for now.

Lily winced, then looked to the world outside. An uncomfortable feeling left as she tried not to get dizzy from the trees that whipped by.

Barry had shown her what the shadows could do for him. They could freeze things or move them. Sometimes, they could even make it so he could step through one and out the other.

He seemed really good at that last one. He kept cheating by doing it after he agreed to play tag with her. She wasn’t ever able to catch him.

He even used magic on one of the closet doors to open it up to his bedroom instead. He walked through and then shut the door behind him.

When she opened it, it was back to being a closet.

She wanted to know how to do all of that, and Barry agreed to teach her if it was something they found she might be able to do.

She clung to Mr. Fox as they drove into the parking lot of a large building. The new, unzipped magenta backpack was beside her. Barry had packed it with fruit snacks, Mr. Fox, and a small whiteboard with markers.

He had thought might be easier for her to talk with than pen and paper, and they had already used it for a few spelling lessons.

She wrote a lot slower when she wanted to make each letter a different color. So, to keep things easy (or so he said), she was only allowed one marker color for the whiteboard a day.

Mr. Fox had called him a ‘hater’ after that.

She thought that was an insult, so she put the rude plush in time-out.

They parked in front of the building, and she looked up to see a big white sign with lavender letters on the front of it over a pair of double glass doors. It had an awning and front porch with additional shopping carts available outside the doors.

The sign read, ‘Murphy’s Botanicals and Fungi.’

Who’s Murphy? Lily asked Mr. Fox. She frowned as she tried to peek into the windows of the shop, but perked up as she saw something green.

Mr. Fox didn’t respond. He knew better than to violate time-out.

Barry’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as he looked over his shoulder to her, “Alright, we’re here.” He nodded outside, “Luna’s family runs a gardening store. Supposedly, it’s pretty good. But who knows? If we find something we like though, maybe we can take it home.”

She perked up at the possibility and wiggled a little as he got out of the car and moved around to get her out of her booster seat.

The first time he had tried it, it had taken nearly five minutes and she heard a lot of curse words she couldn’t believe he said.

Now he was able to do it in about a minute and a half and didn’t swear at all.

Her feet lit up once they touched the ground. It made her smile. He helped her put on her backpack before he passed her Mr. Fox.

Once he shut the car door. She looked around.

That’s weird. She spotted only one other car in the parking lot.

She looked up at Barry as he swung a pull string bag over his shoulder and offered her his gloved hand. She took it with her mitten-covered one before he led her to the door.

His hand was warm against the late-March frigidness.

It didn’t open once they reached it though, and, Barry reached up and rapped on the glass pane door with a knuckle. Lily wondered why it didn’t just open until she spotted the red cursive ‘closed’ sign.

She looked beyond it to see the store was dimly lit inside. There was really only a single bright light in the far back on.

Why were they visiting a store that wasn’t open?

She looked up at Barry with a pout and frown. His hand tightened firmly on hers in reassurance as he kept his gaze ahead. Soon, he perked up.

She heard the footsteps beyond the glass and turned forward to see what he was watching. She gripped back his hand as a hunched silhouette moved in the dark towards them.

Each step seemed to make them grow in size, and goose pimples broke out on her skin as something churned in the back of her mind. But it wasn’t The Wolf.

It reminded her of a cat. Then it darted off to the side.

What was it?

She gripped Barry’s hand tighter with a tight breath before the light from outside hit the figure once they reached the door.

Auntie Luna wore a set of denim overalls with a green and white striped shirt today. Her curly red hair had been pulled up and sat big on top of her head. The sliding glass doors clicked as she reached up and turned something, before they slid open.

The smell of mulch, dirt, and fresh rain rushed out to meet them both in a humid breeze.

“It’s freezing, come in- come in!” She ushered them in and Lily looked around as Barry took a step forward and led them inside.

She didn’t see any sign of the dark creature. She looked up at Luna whose green eyes curved in a smile as she gave a wink. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Lily’s jaw dropped.

The gardening store had shelves upon shelves of plants as far as she could see beyond the entry way. Signs that she couldn’t quite read marked off areas in the dark. But it looked like there were little houses on one table with pointed tops, fake mushrooms, and then logs of actual mushrooms amongst them.

There were flowers in partial bloom that sat on multiple tables and shelves in a series of dark colors.

She wanted to know if they were bright when the lights were turned on.

As she neared, she could see make out of the signs that now read Tropical Exotics; Meadow Garden; Woodland Garden; Desert Garden and Succulents; Bonsai.

There were more signs she couldn’t read in the distance.

The sign over the table with the little houses read, ‘Fairy Gardens.’

Lily practically buzzed with excitement.

“Bout time you two made it.” Luna chuckled as the glass door slid close. She reached up and Lily could see it was for a lock. She locked it back.

Lily let go of Barry’s hand and he gave her a quick smile, before he turned his attention back to Luna, “Thanks. I appreciate you doing all this, Aunt Luna. You’re sure it’ll be fine?”

Fine about what?

Lily looked between the two adults. Barry was frowning, but Auntie Luna continued to smile.

Something’s going on… She looked over Barry as he pulled from his small bag a vest. He slipped it on after he removed his coat.

Lily grimaced as she tried to understand.

He look too nice to be standing in a greenhouse.

“Bit overdressed aren’t you?” Luna asked, and Barry waved it off, “But yes. It’s fine as can be, love. Though you’ll probably start to sweat after a bit in that get up.”

… Could someone please say what’s going on? Lily wondered as she began to stare holes into Auntie Luna’s head.

She looked into the darkened garden shop, before Barry crouched down in front of her and began to help her undo her coat.

She decided to stare at him now instead. Maybe she could will him to tell her what they were talking about?

Their eyes caught as he undid the zipper. Lily leaned her head forward and raised her browses she leaned up into his face asking, are you going to tell me?

Oddly, it almost seemed like he heard her this time.

“So Lily.” He began, “You know how I told you Elio and Cassidy have kids?”

She nodded.

“How would you like to meet them?” His lips turned up slightly, and a glint entered his eye that meant he was up to something, “Maybe spend some time with kids your own age?”

She paused.

Other kids?

She looked down at her shoes.

Was this a prank? She had told them that Granny had always said she couldn’t play with the other kids since it wasn’t safe. Or that the places to find other kids were too far.

Was it safe now?

She peeked down at her wrist at the charm bracelet again.

Barry had said it was safer when she wore it. At least until she could learn to control the shadows, like he did. She didn’t know if she would ever be able too since they only helped her when she asked them to.

But, maybe someday she could?

She looked up at him and hesitantly nodded.

Barry was fun, but he was also old, and kind of boring.

It would be nice if she could have fun with other kids.

She looked over at Auntie Luna who patiently waited as Barry helped her take off her coat and put back on her backpack. She hugged Mr. Fox tightly as Barry stood back up. He kept both of their coats folded over his arm and slung his bag back up over his shoulder.

It landed with a low, ‘thud,’ against his back. Something solid and heavy made sharp edges and had a thickness that pulled on the bottom of the sack.

It looked a little bit like a book.

Auntie Luna tapped on her shoulder before she could ask about it and she peered up at the older lady.

“How would you like to come help me set up the planting studio then, Lily? Barry will join us in a little bit.”

That made Lily nervous. She looked back to the adult who she immediately squinted accusingly at.

Was he going to leave her again?

He had promised he wouldn’t! This wasn’t a school!

Barry shook his head as though he read her mind. Maybe he was able to do that now.

“Not nearly as long this time, Kid. Promise. ” He stated, then sighed “Miss Mary’s coming. I got to meet with her.”

What?

No!

She didn’t want to see Miss Mary! She began to dig her feet in and lean away. Barry’s hands rose in front of him, his palms out to her.

“Trust me, I don’t wanna see her either, Lils. But I do need to talk with her.” He nodded to Luna, “You can stay with Luna while I do, and then I’ll join you right after. Right when it’s time to start up the terrariums, yeah?”

She didn’t even know what a terrarium was.

It sounded a lot like tarantula though. Was it a spider?

She did not want to deal with a spider. But she also didn’t want to deal with Miss Mary.

Mr. Fox broke timeout to mutter that maybe they should find out if it was a spider. Then they could figure out if they were ready to face the evil supervillain vampire that was Miss Marry once more.

She glared between the two adults, patiently waiting for an explanation.

But as neither adult gave one, she huffed and rolled her eyes before she pulled out her whiteboard and wrote her question down.

‘What’s a turaireeum?’

Barry eyebrows shot up, and his voice lightened, “…Good job , you spelled what correctly this time.” She nodded.

That had been their first spelling lesson.

Barry gave a soft, ‘heh,’ before he stated, “They’re like little gardens in a glass bowl. Luna thought it’d be a fun activity for you kids to put some together.”

She went stock still as the best words in the world ran across her mind.

Gardening? Little gardens?

She felt a buzz from her toes all the way up to her head as she looked outside the door where it was gray and yucky out from the slush and snow; then back.

She was going to make a tiny garden!? In the winter!?

She immediately turned to Auntie Luna and almost dropped the whiteboard in her excitement as she reached for her hand. Of course she wanted to garden! It was the best thing ever!

She didn’t even wave bye to Barry as Luna led her away, through the many tables and shelves of plants.

Barry

Barry watched as the six-year-old followed after his aunt like an excited puppy as they headed for the workroom in the far back of the store. The dim surroundings engulfed him as soon as the two disappeared and Luna shut the door.

He took a deep breath of the humid, floral and herbal-tinted air. A shiver ran down his spine and his shoulders tensed. The magic at the fringes of his sense vibrated like a dog’s growl as it was on the alert.

He restrained it though with a thought and began off to the side where a secondary event room was located. The one Luna said would give him the privacy and security he needed for this meeting he was about to have with the cultist.

The variety of rainforest and tropical house plants in the store began to make more sense as he eyed identical pots that had once been shoved into his arms as gifts for his house.

Many of which were now bigger than the younger plants here. A result of a continuous text chain between he and his aunt from over the years of caring for whatever leafy thing she’d given him.

But he had still never checked the store out. If he had, it would have meant being too close. Potentially opening his aunt and uncle up to something that he hadn’t realized until late, one of them was already entrenched in.

Barry still wasn’t sure if he liked the change of Luna being in on his connection with magic; but, he couldn’t deny he definitely liked the store.

Which was why he now hesitated on if meeting Mary here was a good idea start with.

A knock on the glass doors interrupted his thoughts.

There was a woman on the other side of the storefront door. She stood a few inches shorter than him and had pitch black hair with fair skin. Her eyes were a brown that was so light, it neared amber in the light.

It reminded him of a cat’s eyes.

She had high cheekbones and a heart shaped face, with a button nose that was ridiculously cute.

She donned a long red peacoat that matched her dark red lipstick. He could see the start of a black turtle neck just beneath its collar, and a pair of red leather boots on her feet.

She stuck out like a vibrant cherry against the Maine slushy, gray wintery day, and had two steaming to-go cups of coffee in her hands.

Given they were outside of the publicized hours for the store, and he had only asked one woman to meet him here that did not look nearly this attractive, he was flummoxed on who this might be.

“….Mary?” He asked.

The woman smiled and waved.

What the fuck? He thought while he tried to get over what he was looking at.

Where the hell was cultish nanny? Where was the woman who left rude boot prints on his floor and he was pretty sure sacrificed children on the weekends?

Why was she suddenly fucking hot, now?!

He swallowed down the knot that had formed in his throat as he reached up to grab the lock for the doors and undo it, opening it to let his ‘coworker,’ in.

He almost didn’t. This kind of witchcraft usually meant he was about to get his shit kicked in if he let his guard slip.

As the glass slid away from in between them though, the woman spoke.

His confusion furthered as her voice was light and airy; instead of the rasp from behind the veil.

She sounded positively giddy as she greeted, “Good morning Mr. Russo!” Barry stepped to the side before he knew what he was doing. She walked inside, “Apologies that I’m out of uniform. Since this meeting is off-hours, I thought I could dress a little more comfortably. I hope that’s alright?”

She looked over her shoulder at him.

Barry’s mouth snapped shut before something stupid he couldn’t take back fell out of it.

It was all he could do as he tried not to blurt out something that would make him look like an utter pig.

The word ‘uniform,’ echoed through his mind just enough that he managed to hold back the relentless urge that had formed to talk about anything other than why they were here.

How long had it been since he got laid? Or even had a date?

He couldn’t remember.

The best he could recall was the Domme he sometimes visited leaving him a voicemail. She had been worried because he hadn’t been by in months.

His silence must have gone on too long because Mary shot him a smile while she said, “…I know, the change is quite a shock, isn’t it?”

Fraternization is a rookie move, man. He couched to himself, You know better. She’s your colleague. Get It Together! Last week she looked like the crypt keeper in a black dress! That could come back! Don’t get hot for this! Barry barked to himself in his best authoritative tone.

With almost no self-restraint left, he strung together the first proper sentence he could manage as he braced with another deep inhale of the gardening store.

He held out his hand, “Let me take your coat.”

With a soft laugh, Mary Thompson of the Apocryphal Incorporated Acquisitions Department stacked and handed him her coffees, and then did just that.

… Soon, their coats hung in the second event room. There was a small stack of papers, books, and coffees that were set out on the room’s table as they sat across from each other.

In front of Barry sat a dossier so detailed, he thought perhaps one of the family’s information brokers had put it together.

Meanwhile, Mary paged through Dante’s Book of Shadows.

He couldn’t get over the change from when they had met in the negative eighth-level and when she dropped Lily off, to this woman before him.

He could still see slight hints of the frame that had been beneath the high-collared, old fashioned black dress she had worn each time they met. Her shoulders were still a little boney, and her waist small.

But her skin was healthy instead of pale white. He could see no sight of the black veins.

He shook his head and gripped one of the coffee cups she had brought for both of them, “So is it the veil that makes you look like a zombie bride, or… just your connections with Her.”

He watched as her eyes flicked up from the pages, and her lip quirked upwards in a lopsided smirk. He tried not to stare at the small beauty mark above the right corner of her mouth. “The second.”

“Do I get to know how… or why?” He asked.

“No.” She told him flatly, but the smile stayed on her lips and in her tone.

“Okay.” He sucked on his teeth and ran them over his upper lip, “Are you really a Social Worker?”

“Yes.” A laugh that rippled amongst the word, “Is this really what you want to ask me, Mr. Russo?”

“No” He admitted, “I want to ask if you’re some sort of siren or harpy.” He tipped his cup towards her, “Because this switch ain’t natural. I got nothing.” He shook his head. “I know we’re here about the kid, but this is too weird.”

He was both attracted, and confused. It wasn’t a good combination.

A ripple of pleasure coiled in him as her warm laugh reverberated around the room.

Something in his chest clenched and he studied her as he took a sip of his drink.

She wasn’t supposed to have a good laugh, too.

“Well, I don’t want you distracted as we talk about Lily.” Mary shifted in her seat and nodded to him,”So let me put that to rest. I’m neither. I’m just as human as you.”

He caught as her pink tongue darted out to quickly wet her lips, before she held up a finger to wag it at him while she continued, “but also, I don’t date coworkers, Mr. Russo. So. With that out of the way, shall we get to business? Or I am I going to have to report you to HR?”

“The HR department is a joke. Nothing in that place is human.” He shot back lowly.

Mary’s response was in the form of an eye roll and to intertwine her fingers above her head and stretch while giving a very unlady-like groan.

But that seemed to do the trick as the tone of the room turned from whatever fancifulness he had just felt, to an easy atmosphere he was more familiar with.

He respected the rebuke while he waved off his own statement, “But you’re right. My bad, Maer.” Her arms fell as she raised a brow at him, “Apologies. Just took me off guard to find out the skeletal matron beneath that veil is, frankly, extremely well built.”

He nodded to her, “I’ll respect your boundaries.”

He knew better than to chase when it was clear she didn’t want to be pursued.

“Good.” She stated, then tilted her head, “Maer, though?” She asked. He nodded, “Then I suppose I can address you as Barry, then?”

“Fine by me. Like you said, we’re off clock.” He sniffed, “And in a gardening store. Nothing for nothing- but it ain’t exactly high etiquette here. So. Let’s get down to the kid.”

Mary gave a bob of her head and then dipped her chin towards the dossier before, “After your email, I dug further into the records to see what there was. I didn’t like what I found. Her pediatrician in Garnet Harbor had reported her grandmother to the local authorities several times.”

Barry looked down to the pictures paper-clipped to the brown manilla folder before him. An older woman with white hair and bright blue eyes in a white button up and a pair of brown pants stared right back at him. Youth was long gone while she had sun-kissed skin and a hollow look in those eyes.

It seemed the time out of the game had finally caught up with Belladonna Costa. She hadn’t looked nearly as rough when they had worked together.

He turned his attention back up to Mary, “What were the complaints?”

“Primarily there were concern of maltreatment and negligence. The doctor was worried they were beginning to affect her behavior and social development.” Mary breathed, “He believed for the most part that her grandmother was actively isolating Lily. After she turned four an received her vaccines, they stopped coming in for any annual medical exams.” She grimaced, “Unfortunately. the doctor’s complaints were never pursued by the authorities as CPS was actively barred with a ‘not to pursue’ order on the household due to special federal circumstances.”

She reached across the table and flipped the dossier to the next page for him. He spotted a younger Belladonna now speaking to a young man that had her eyes and nose. His face was absolutely covered in freckles that were nearly identical to the ones Lily had,. “I was only able to find that picture due to Lily’s parents records being wiped four years earlier, as, from what I can tell, they were part of a federal program. Their new identities were announced deceased shortly after Lily’s birth. Belladonna Costa was named guardian though, due to proven blood relation. ”

Barry’s blood ran cold.

So, part of the Costas had ran for the feds, after all.

Did Dante and his wife rat out their own family and go into witness protection? And if so, when did that occur?

Better yet, did Belladonna do the same? Or was the fed firewall due to the kid?

He looked at Mary as the questions roiled in his mind before he murmured, “Are the feds tracking the kid?”

Mary’s lips pulled back to reveal a row of dazzling white teeth that only lit up her smile. “I wouldn’t worry about that. The Antiquated’s intervention has ensured that there will be no interference by the federal authorities when it comes to Lily. As far as they’re concerned, this is all above board. Any previous protective orders begin and end with Bella.”

She gestured to him with an open hand as she continued, “The case was closed when she died and all’s well now that a family friend with resources has taken over the custodianship of her granddaughter, and out of the state’s hands.”

Because magic doesn’t give a shit about man-made laws. Barry mutely surmised as he continued to study his colleague.

It was the unspoken truth he had learned over the past two decades.

Have an issue?

With enough magic, it may as well have never existed.

He looked back down at the dossier.

What did mortal man’s laws matter when you weren’t human and could say ‘fuck reality?’

He supposed he should be grateful for it, but there was a twist in his stomach he couldn’t shake in its wake.

Why weren’t they affected?

He decided to get back on subject with a sharp suck of air and shake of his head, “Right. So. Bella was a shit guardian then? And was- what? Actively fucking the kid up by closing her off from the world?” He asked, “Was she like those assholes that keep their kids in a secret basement or some shit?”

The woman he knew was capable of far worse. But to own her granddaughter?

He didn’t want to stomach the thought if she might have done something like that.

If so, he gave credit to the kid. Lily was remarkably well-adjusted.

Mary’s smile weakened and her tone softened, “I doubt it.” She shrugged, “It’s likely Lily didn’t understand what was occurring, but given her general disposition to adults, she doesn’t show the typical symptoms of a child that was constantly isolated from the world.”

She waved, “She’s not feral. She can talk, and she does socialize. It’s clear she had exposure with other adults as she minds authority.” Mary then sighed, “If I were to speculate based off your description of what Lily’s manifested, ability wise… it indicates Belladonna may have been ill-equipped and possibly isolated the child due to her nascent capabilities. Even you’ve already voiced concerns on the wider-scale impacts if the magic is left to go unchecked.”

She gestured down to the Book of Shadows before her, “If this was truly her son’s as you say, then it’s clear the Costa family knew something was out there. But, as we have yet to get someone out to the house to be able to inspect it beyond extracting Lily’s things, we have no way to tell what Bella competencies with other etherial manifestations were.” She shrugged. “you knew her once, did she ever give an indication she was connected?”

Not the kind of connected you’re thinking. Barry drummed his fingers on the table as he sized her up, then looked towards the ceiling, “Nah. Never gave a hint she might know.”

He rested his elbows on the table and pressed his forehead against his interlaced fingers. He peered down at the multiple documents he would still have to go through as he considered it.

It would be so much simpler if Bella was just a traitor and this was all one big fuck up. A fixer that had gone bad wasn’t unheard of.

Everyone snapped to something eventually.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more here in the dark that didn’t want them prodding around with it to begin with. Between the Costa’s fall by his family and the bullshit that had happened since, it felt like something bigger was going on.

Just like he couldn’t stop a question that continued to rattle around in his head about the woman in front of him, and the child under his care.

What did that magic bio-mechanical bitch want with this kid?

And also, what was the deal going on here with Mary?

He finally looked back at her.

“What’s your place in all this?” He dropped the pretense of niceties as he scowled. He gestured at her, “Also, why are we meeting on off-hours and not at the office? Or in a a virtual meeting like you originally wanted?” He tossed the same hand up in the air towards the ceiling, “Why did you insist on a face-to-face meeting? Also, how the hell did you get past the federal firewalls to get all this? Is this really the reach of the corporation, or are you just pulling some shit?”

He glowered, “It ain’t that I’m not grateful, but I wanna know why you give a shit.”

Mary Thompson stopped mid-sip from her coffee, and as they locked eyes, Barry knew better than to be the one to blink first.

One person didn’t have this reach, and he vey much doubted some bio-mechanical eldritch horror in a basement gave this much of a shit about a little girl’s upbringing.

He felt her polite demeanor shift into something real as he nearly glanced back down to the dossier that they had only covered the first two pages of; but still had at least twenty more to go.

Barry knew better than to think he’d get a straight answer. Just like he knew people didn’t shift itineraries on a whim.

That was why he chose the gardening store to begin with when she had changed her mind and requested a face-to-face on his personal cell. Outside of their email chain.

She didn’t want eyes on this, and lucky for her; neither did he.

He restrained every want he had to reach underneath the table and draw his hand over the single rune Luna had carved into the bottom of it. That little rune heated his lap and had been active the moment he had entered the store.

Just as he knew there were four others hidden somewhere in this building just like it.

They were tips of the unseen lines of a pentagram that had all activated the second magic that wasn’t Luna’s had crossed a boundary line, and would zap the shit out of both of them if something untoward began.

Or at least, that’s how his Aunt said they would work when she offered it to him to use.

But none of that had happened yet.

Mary wasn’t charming him. She wasn’t trying to use some sort of spell. This was just her, talking; and from what he could tell, being extremely helpful.

But he wanted to know why.

So, he readied for the worst as Mary set down her cup and interlaced her fingers as she leaned over Dante’s book to study him. Her chin rested against her knuckles as those amber eyes bore into his.

Her jaw shifted in thought.

He briefly wondered how he would explain the mess once it escalated. How bad the lash back would hurt once the wards activated. If she broke them somehow, would it open his family up to something more than just this meeting?

Were they treading perhaps a little too close to where his personal life and this bullshit magical world he’d been a part of met; thickening that space where they overlapped?

Were the past twenty years of preventative action he had taken about to be rendered pointless because here she was, with him, talking about a child who spoke to shadows that a monster had forced him to put under his roof.

Thankfully for Barry, all of that concern turned out moot.

Because right when he thought she was about to spring, Mary instead, began to talk.

Lily

Barry had been gone a while, but Auntie Luna had kept them busy as they had set up the work area. It was a long table with child-sized chairs around it that now had a group of plants that were all put on a lazy Susan style tray. There were also different bowls filled with materials placed on the table that Auntie Luna said would do well for the terrariums they were going to make.

The older lady had instructed Lily on where to put different items, and talked about the mosses and things they would use. From sand to pebbles, and the type of ‘botanicals’ that would work really well for this kind of thing.

So by the time Barry came back, Lily was eagerly setting the last plastic bulb they would fill with all those things in a ‘kids spot,’ that she had helped set up with Auntie Luna. Just as he promised, he walked into the door before anyone showed up while she heard the glass doors slide open and shut in the background.

Auntie Luna looked up from a long box of dirt and spades she was carrying. She set it down on the table and dusted her hands on the apron she had thrown on over her overalls.

“How’d it go?” She asked.

Lily nodded eagerly and bit her bottom lip. Was she going to have to talk to Miss Mary again?

She didn’t want too.

But Barry ruffled her hair as he simply muttered, “Fine. She just left. Got some new things to look over.” He winked down at Lily, “Also dropped off something for you there, kid. We’ll take a look at it when we get home.”

Miss Mary left something for her?

Was it a present?

Mr. Fox, now no longer in time-out, chimed they should look at it now. Before the others arrived!

But Lily shushed him.

That would be rude to try and push for it now.

Plus, she heard other voices beyond the storefront doors, muffled before she heard the glass door slide open again and they became a bit clearer.

She shot her whiteboard a glance as it sat next to her work area, where a big chair was put beside it so Barry could help her make her terrarium. Three other areas had been set up and there were two other big people chairs for Auntie Luna, and Cousin Cassidy.

Auntie Luna had made sure she knew where everything was and was supposed to be, “I want you comfortable with this space before the others show up. It’ll help you feel less nervous.” The elder had told her.

But Lily still felt buzzy in her stomach as she reached up and gripped Barry’s fingers, eyes locked on the open door.

The adult paused whatever he was going to say next and followed her line of sight, before he gripped her hand and gave a gentle squeeze back.

“It’ll be all good, Lily. They’re loud at first, but give e’m a shot.” He told her softly.

She swallowed, but nodded. Even Mr. Fox went quiet before figures moved through the dim light towards the door.

The first was Cassidy, and a little girl who looked Lily’s age that held tightly onto her mother’s hand. She was a little taller than Lily, but had blonde hair like Cassidy did and dark brown eyes.

Lily looked behind them as two other children entered. They were both tall, and had dark brown hair like Uncle Enzo and his dad did, but blue eyes like Cassidy’s. The boy had short hair while the girl had long hair that was tied up in a ponytail.

“But it wasn’t me that made Marie cry, it was Lana!” The boy argued, before the girl beside him shook her head.

“You’re a liar, you were the one who threatened to throw Fuzzy out the window!”

“You both did!” The little girl snarled from her mother’s side; but then Lily noticed what the little girl was holding once she was out of her coat.

It was a stuffed velveteen rabbit, like Mr. Fox was.

Mr. Fox proudly declared he was better, because foxes were better.

She looked over to Barry who watched on with a flat stare pinned on all three kids. She grabbed her marker.

‘You sure it will be good?’

She tapped him once she finished and pointed, then watched as his eyes trailed down to read it. He smirked after their gazes met and winked with a nod.

She turned her attention back just in time to see Cassidy’s mouth open and state loudly, her voice clipped “One!”

The familiar tone made Lily go stock still. Granny sounded like that whenever she was about to be in trouble. She held her breath as all three children froze.

Marie’s mouth opened in a small, “But-”

They all watched as Cassidy’s eyes narrowed, “Two.” The threat hung on her lips and the younger girl flinched.

Lily looked away as Barry gently tugged her to his side towards their spots on at table. She shuffled along, but caught as he gave a breathy snicker. She noticed at that point Auntie Luna also had a small smile on her lips.

“Trust me kiddo.” Barry whispered down to her, “You don’t want any part of that.”

They sat down in their seats as Cassidy nodded once she was sure none of her children would speak.

Lily wondered if this was some sort of magic that adults had over kids. Like when Barry said her name really sharp.

“Now.” She began, “I don’t care who did it, but it was wrong, and you’re not to bother your little sister about her rabbit again. It’s rude and mean.” The twins looked like they were going to speak, but a sharp look kept them quiet again, “I raised you better than that.”

Lily watched in silent awe as Cousin Cassidy turned her gaze down to Marie, “That said, Marie, next time someone steals Fuzzy, you are not to hit them. You get an adult.”

Wait, Marie hit someone too? Lily wondered if it was because she was just that mad, or scared? She looked at Barry who continued to say nothing but watched on.

The little blonde girl bit her lower lip like she might cry but with a soft whimper, nodded.

As all three kids seemed to settle into some sort of quiet though, Luna broke the tension by clearing her throat, “Well then. I can see everyone’s excited to get their hands messy.”

She smiled at Cassidy, and then the aunt took a seat at the head of the table, “You lot get your coats off, then we’ll get started. You do it right and you’ll have something nice that will last a good long while and be something fun to remember from today!”

There was grumbling, but like Luna also had casted a spell; the other three children obeyed.

… They had made it about a fourth of the way through the lesson and had gotten moss and sand into their terrarium orbs by the time Marie gave a shy look at Lily.

Lily was stuck between a purple or green plant that Auntie Luna had said would work really well in her orb, but also was distracted on which colored rocks she wanted to put in it.

Barry sat beside her in his chair, arms crossed on the table as he waited for her to choose. Luna had said the adults should work the really fine pair of tweezer for the hard parts like placing the tiny plants, but for the most part, Barry had let Lily work in her orb as much as she wanted.

Lily looked back at Marie though once she begun to stare, before the other young girl stated quietly, “I like your fox.”

Mr. Fox perked up and Lily looked back to him, before she turned back to Marie and then glanced down to her rabbit.

She reached over for whiteboard, and blinked as Barry offered her a marker. She took it with a small smile and quickly responded:

‘I like your Fuzzy. Mine’s Mr. Fox.’

She watched as Marie read it before she smiled and picked up the rabbit beside her. She held it in front of Lily and said, “Fuzzy is the best cause she plays the best games!”

The rabbit had embroidered eyes instead of button ones, but Lily could see that one of her ears were ripped. She tilted her head as she looked closely and reached up, then gently touched the brown velvet arm. She gave the plush’s paw a small shake.

Hello. She told Fuzzy.

Unlike Mr. Fox though, Fuzzy said nothing.

Mr. Fox scoffed that Fuzzy was a bit rude.

Marie’s eyes lit up though and she smiled wide before she asked, “Can I say hi to Mr. Fox?”

Lily let go and nodded, then grabbed up her best friend and watched as Marie shook his black paw.

Mr. Fox seemed okay with that. He let her know that Marie seemed nice.

Across the table, Leo opened his mouth, only for Lily to catch as Lana sharply elbowed in him the side. He grunted and scowled at her. His twin glowered back, brows furrowed as she frowned with pursed lips before she shook her head.

Leo opened his mouth to state something, but Barry’s voice rumbled quietly from beside her, “You kids start acting up and your mom’s gonna scold you again…” But Lily could hear the soft groan on his voice as he leaned back in his chair, “And then where will ya be?”

Marie’s gaze darted from Lily to him, then back to her before she asked softly, “Do you really live with Cousin Scare Baer?”

Scaer Bear? Was that like Brutal Barry?

She looked over at the adult who lazily watched them both. He opened his mouth to speak, but Cassidy cut him off with a, “Marie, that’s rude. Barry’s not scary.”

“No, it’s fine, Cass.” Barry waved it off, but Lily felt as the man beside her seemed to shrink a little. “They don’t know no better.”

“They do.” Cassidy corrected, and Marie warily looked at her mother, then back to Lily.

Lily shrunk under the intensity of the other child’s eyes. She hugged tightly to Mr. Fox.

A warm hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up at Barry to see him leaning forward over her and her seat.

“Nah.” He stated, “They don’t.” Before he quickly threw his hands up in a big wave.

Marie squeaked as his arms spread wide and his voice boomed, “Boo!”

Marie hugged Fuzzy tight and Lily noticed how big her eyes were as she looked up at the man.

Mr. Fox joked that maybe she was scared because Fuzzy wasn’t a great friend.

But Lily knew he was just being mean.

“Well. Now who’s being childish?” Muttered Cassidy. Lily watched the little girl’s head duck as she stared up from behind her rabbit in defense, but Barry seemed to settle beside her.

She looked up at him, then back to Marie.

Barry could be scary, but she didn’t know if he was supposed to be called, ‘Scare Bear.’ She picked back up her marker and wrote:

‘I do. He’s not scary.’

“Yeah. He’s not scary.” Lana chimed over after also reading the board, “He’s just a dork!”

“Well now look who’s being childish?” Barry snickered.

Lana stick her tongue out at him. Lily expected Barry to scold her too, but instead, he stuck his tongue out right back.

Lana then made an ugly face, and Barry mimicked it.

Her twin brother snickered, “He makes that face better than you do, sis.”

“That’s cause his face is ugly!” Lana snapped.

“Yeah.” Barry agreed and his face went blank, but Lily watched as a new glint reached her guardian’s eye as he told the older kid conspiratorially, “Got that way from makin’ ugly faces as a kid all the time.”

Lana stiffened, and Barry just grinned. Cassidy sighed while Leo began to laugh.

Luna gave a breathy chuckle over the six of them as she watched on.

But Marie tugged gently on Lily’s sleeve to get her attention though, and Lily turned to the other girl.

She noticed Marie had used one of her markers to write something on her board.

‘Y don’t u talk?’

The room felt suddenly quiet as she processed the question.

She felt her throat tighten and hugged Mr. Fox back to her chest.

A shiver ran down her spine as she tried not to remember the sound of the lady on the other end of the phone, talking to her as the smell of the blood filled her nose and coated the receiver against her head and hands.

That shiver turned ice cold like the wind from the broken glass door out to the backyard as it bit into the wet spots on her clothes.

She had tried to speak as quietly as she could to the nice lady, who kept asking Lily to repeat what she was saying because the lady couldn’t understand.

So she tried again and again to speak as softly as she could, so the lady could hear her, but that way, The Wolf couldn’t.

Her hand shook as she picked up the red marker. The sharp sound of the cap felt like a slice through the growl that begun to rumble in the back of her mind.

A hand gripped her shoulder. It was hot against the cold that made her shake. Something clean smelled close by, it smothered out the scent of the blood.

She swallowed as it steadied her, but she felt like she might choke.

She tried to get the words that sat locked in her throat down as quickly as possible onto the white surface, just so the other little girl would know.

‘Can’t or The Wolf might hear me.’

Part-One Interlude

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Around this time, you would usually be receiving your next installment for Schoolwork and Cement Shoes so we could hear more about Barry and Lily’s adventures in Rose City and the wider Russo Crime Family.

However, due to developments in my life and here on the Storyteller’s Path, I have had to shift some things around and develop a new release schedule.

• Part of this is due to the separate employment journey I’m working on, and new developments on that front; as well as some travel planned for next month.

• Another is to ensure my bandwidth isn’t worn thin and I continue to develop a sustainable writing routine.

I’m not slowing down so much as reorganizing, and this article is going out as a matter of transparency and notification of those shifts.

So let’s dive into it.

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On the near horizon, there are at least two series that The Storyteller’s Path will continue to run:

First is our original series - Schoolwork and Cement Shoes.

This has previously maintained a weekly post schedule and goes out on Friday Mornings at 8:30 AM EST.

After reviewing chapter performance, general engagement, and the process I’ve been doing for drafting, editing, and posting - I will be changing it’s posting schedule to weekly, Monday Mornings at 8:00 AM.

This is in anticipation of potentially having full-time work on the table, and being only able to write during nights and weekends.

When and if that switch occurs; I will also change the serial’s posting frequency from weekly to bi-weekly.

Once Schoolwork and Cement Shoes completes the end of Part One (IE: Chapter 15), I will be taking a month-long break from it.

After that break, Part Two will begin, which ideally will be another 15 chapters, and match the posting schedule of whatever circumstances we’re looking at, at that time.

Second! I have begun releasing a new short-fiction series. The first of which went out on July 21st, Jeff the Temp!

I could say this was a random idea that’s just performed well, but I’ve been cracking up over its’ concept for about two months and finally wrote the first thing for it earlier in the week.

‘Jeff the Temp’ is a fantasy comedy that will blend into lite LitRPG. It will compose of one-off shorts following a graduated frat boy named Jeff as he takes odd jobs from Craigslist.

The shops are intended to change every installment- but revisits may occur in the future depending on how well he’s done with them, or if he has some reason to return (see Hobart the bearded dragon).

Folks! Here’s where I need your help!

I intend for ‘Jeff the Temp’ to be my first foray into interactive fiction.

IE: Audience participation is requested to make these shorts!

These short stories will be released mid-month on a monthly basis. They will be only loosely connected and have a 1500-word maximum to keep my wordy-self in check.

After an installment’s release, a poll will be sent out through Substack Notes for readers to vote on which shop Jeff should answer an ad for next, and allow an avenue for readers to submit their best fake ads in that poll’s comments for Jeff to answer.

Some poll results and suggestions may be captured in the same release, or some of them may be broken out depending on if they can match or not.

The first poll is already up - so go submit your best fake ad and vote for your favorite shop before it closes!

If there is no participation in the polls and comments, while I will be sad- don’t worry!

I began ‘Jeff the Temp’ for a shared laugh, and will continue his escapades until I’ve decided I’ve heard enough from him.

Then he’ll still be there for when a mad-witch cackle is needed on a rainy day.

Finally, under development at this time are one of potentially two newsletters.

One of which we’ll talk about here because it’s definitely going to happen, and the other which will be on the ‘she’s cooking on it’ pile and further discussed in the said upcoming Newsletter.

‘The Storyteller’s Path Newsletter’ will release on July 31st, and then will be scheduled to drop at the end of each month.

This first issue will include a semi-proper introduction of myself, and discuss what is anticipated in the future issues at large: including paid vs. free-subscription content.

It will cover the following:

• Cloud Gazing - What I have been up to from a creative sense, plus general creative tips or thoughts that have helped me in my writing.

• Random Encounters - Any relevant life developments or updates; such as the constantly growing or dying apartment garden I keep, general employment updates, manuscript development, my cats, or adventures.

• Route-Planning - Any specific submissions I’m pursuing.

• Signposts - These will be general updates on scheduling or new notices involving the current pieces that have a posting schedule. (You’re getting July’s early).

• Trail Markers - What media has been obsessing/inspiring me lately. If you follow my notes, you probably already have some idea.

Full disclaimer: The first issue is going to be a bit of a mess, but that’s due to it’s containment of: a personal intro, introduction of the newsletter and then some of the above.

August and forward will follow a more focused and less noisy set-up as the format will be semi-solidified.

The newsletters’ final format will be consistently ‘under development,’ as I decide what works best, more things get added to my life, and I just generally get into the habit of running it.

Additional silliness that I draft up will post randomly and with unpredictability.

I do have one that I’ve been cooking on that I’ve announced earlier last month.

‘The Misadventures of Tiana Bladesong’ is still in development as we figure out the best way to wrap-up her short tale.

So with those exciting updates underway, I will leave you at this first signpost to return to drafting for Chapter Eight draft of Schoolwork and Cement Shoes!

Until then; please comment below what your best knock-off name for craigslist is!

Right now the best I got is “Gregslist.” It’s the name of my husband and is funny enough to make me giggle.

So, I want to see you do better!

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Jeff felt his stomach churn with hopeless consternation as he watched Sofretta, Evil Dame of the Thirty-Seven Realms hold the sharp implement in front of her face while she studied it.

Despite having loudly announced herself when she’d arrived at Oswaldo’s Evil Emporium, she didn’t engage and decided to ignore him.

“Also, please put out your pipe. Smoking isn’t allowed in the shop.”

Sofretta gave a low croak in the form of a pensive hum. She didn’t even remove the pipe from her mouth, which ushered smoke from it every few seconds.

He watched as another cloud floated above her head as she fully turned her back on him, axe still in hand.

Jeff wondered if the shop’s owner, Oswaldo the Malignant, was going to be more proud or upset if his wares had the faint smell of smoke on them.

He looked over at Oswaldo’s pet. A teacup-sized bearded dragon named Hobart.

He was relatively certain bearded dragons weren’t supposed to have actual beards, or curly mustaches. Or even exist. At least, not the mythical type.

But denying his grasp on reality, Hobart deigned to have all three.

The little dragon’s ridiculous, curly mustache swished back and forth as the reptile’s jaw flexed. He raised his head, stared out at the woman, and then blew a small purple flame in Sofretta’s direction.

Somehow, his beard did not catch fire.

The Evil Dame of the Thirty-Seven Realms finally glanced over her shoulder at them. Her yellow, cat-like eyes with red irises narrowed as she gave another soft hum.

Another puff streamed out of her mouth, “I’ll give you twenty gold for it.”

Jeff wracked his brain. Twenty gold was highway robbery. Particularly since the ‘Blood Axe of the Tyrant’ was priced at 5,000 gold on the small tag that hung off its handle.

While it was only his first shift and he was unsure on the conversion rate of a gold coin to a US dollar, he was positive that Oswaldo would be mad if she walked away with his wares at only a small percentage of the price.

He was confident as he refused, “Not a chance.”

Sofretta glowered and turned back to him.

Hobart gave a low hiss as the crone floated towards his register. Her wrinkles more defined in her scowl. The faint smell of patchouli and days-old deodorant wafted off her.

Hobart immediately snuffled and sneezed while Jeff guarded his features.

He had faced down the smelliest customers during Uber Eats deliveries and the most grotesque individuals when he was party to post-game locker rooms and ragers at the university.

The wretched villainess had no chance against his graduated frat boy sensibilities.

The Evil Dame of the Thirty-Seven Realms ran her hand down the edge of the blade and he sucked on his tongue to prevent a wince from finding its way onto his face.

He saw a small sliver of blood trickle down her palm as she hissed, “Listen here, sonny…”

“Ma’am-“ He began.

POP!

Jeff and Hobart both flinched as a puff of air and smoke rushed against their faces.

The little bearded blue dragon gave a hop from his perch and an irritated shriek.

Jeff nodded in agreement as the axe clattered to the ground. It knocked over on impact a weaved basket filled with ‘stolen family silver,’ which clanged in a cacophony throughout the shop.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he saw Sofretta was now nowhere in sight as he sighed deeply. Hobart snorted as he scrambled towards the edge of the register and peered down.

The draconic creature gave a squeak that piqued Jeff’s interest. He also looked over the desk.

The axe on the floor in front of it now hummed and smelled faintly of smoke, body odor, and patchouli. A small drip of blood still on the blade, before it glowed red and the blood dissolved into the metal.

“…did that axe just eat Sofretta?” He mumbled to the dragon; who gave a grunt and nodded. Then shook his head. Then nodded again.

“That’s not much of an answer, my guy.” Jeff sighed as he pat the creature on the back in between the wings.

A small purple stream of flame was the response; Jeff didn’t speak dragon, but he supposed that was fair.

Before he could figure out what to do about it or put the axe back though; the shop door’s bell rang as it opened with another.

Oswaldo the Malignant had returned.

He stood at a formidable 6’ 3” and with a pointy hat on his head. It reminded Jeff of a garden gnome’s hat or dunce cap and covered his balding head while the rest of his face was also covered in a beard.

He wore a black robe that seemed more like a dress.

In his arms, he held two large bags of Mutton Bell. Jeff could only assume it was the fantasy realm’s version of Taco Bell.

“I brought lunch!” Oswaldo the Malignant announced.

Jeff waved in greeting.

He was still unsure if this job was just a bender’s nightmare or if the stress from attempting to pay the bills through craigslist ads had landed him in a fantasy-themed coma.

As long as he got a paycheck at the end of it though; he wasn’t going to complain.

The ad had said he’d get a day’s worth of wages if he put in a shift, and it wasn’t the only one he’d bothered to answer.

Hobart squawked in excitement and Jeff looked back down at the axe.

“I think the axe ate a customer.” He grunted to the wizard who he assumed was evil.

How else did one judge someone with a name like, ‘Oswaldo the Malignant?’

“Oh?” The man’s bushy beard and mustache swished, and his little dragon mimicked the motion. Hobart hopped from the register to immediately climb up the baggy sleeve of the old man and shove his head in the first paper bag he could reach, “Were they magical?”

“Not sure.” Jeff shrugged, “She went by Sofretta, Evil Dame of the Thirty-Seven Realms. So… probably?”

Oswaldo perked up as a glint reached his eye. He smiled.

“Well then!” He sounded excited, “I’ll be right back.”

He waved his hand and the ‘stolen family silver’ began to right itself again, before he moved past the register and into the back storeroom. Moments later, he came back out with a chainmail glove on his left hand and a new price tag in his right. He moved around and groaned as he picked up the axe with the gloved hand before he set it on the counter.

Jeff studied as Oswaldo the Malignant changed out the price tag from: ‘Blood Axe of the Tyrant - 5000 Gold.’

To: ‘Magical Evil Dame of the Thirty-Seven Realms Soul-Possessed Blood Axe of the Tyrant - 15,000 Gold.’

Jeff sucked on his teeth, before he inquired, “Isn’t that going to cause some sort of liability insurance issue?”

Oswaldo peered at him like he spoke a language he didn’t know, “What?”

Hobart equally squeaked in confusion, but Jeff shook his head and grabbed his bag of Mutton Bell. He swiped up a mutton crunch-wrap supreme and unwrapped it before he took a bite.

Hobart jumped off Oswaldo and into the paper bag. He began to tear it apart, the dragon’s facial hair soon a mess as he devoured all the other food in sight.

“It’s not often I have an assistant up the price of my goods.” Oswaldo mused after a good while once they finished lunch, “Would you be interested in another shift?”

Jeff gave a shrug, “If I can work it in. I’ve got a couple of other shops that want me to work a shift for them as well. So, I’m going to be busy.”

Oswaldo gave a nod, then slipped him a gold coin as he made an exaggerated point to look away.

Jeff also looked away as he pocketed it, still unsure on what the gold coin to US dollar conversion rate was, as he accepted the bribe.

Neither man noticed while Hobart the bearded dragon snuck away into the temp’s bag, still covered in mutton sauce.

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Lily

The room smelled heavy of smoke and old furniture once Uncle Enzo opened the door.

The giant carried Lily with ease as he strode in. She looked over Mr. Fox’s head to find Mister Barry by an open window. A fire danced and crackled merrily in a hearth in the middle of the wall of the room.

An older man who looked similar to Mister Barry, she recognized him as his father, ground a brown stick down in a glass bowl on the table beside him.

She began to squirm immediately in Enzo’s grasp only for him to grunt, “Easy Lily! You don’t want to fall!”

He shifted his grip to get a hold beneath her arms and set her down. She immediately ran to Mister Barry as he turned to face them.

“Oomf!“ Mister Barry swayed as she dropped Mr. Fox and immediately hugged his legs. Her heart pounded as she held tight and shuddered. She felt his hand settle on her hooded head and her throat loosened it’s tight grip as she gave a shaky breath.

She peeked back up to see he watched her before he sighed and pursed his lips to the side.

His eyes flicked up to Enzo, “…problems downstairs?”

“Yeah. Was a bit too much for her.” The younger man replied.

Lily also nodded, then raised a fist and slapped it against his thigh as she began to shake with rage.

YOU LEFT ME! She yelled at him. A harsh puff of air left her. YOU DON’T DO THAT!

There had been so many people that had come and gone, and he was supposed to stay and take care of her!

But Auntie Luna had put her in front of a bunch of people she didn’t know. She had been surrounded by a group of men that were all strangers.

None of the shadows were talking to her!

She bared her teeth in frustration and rose her hand to hit him again.

He caught it before she could make contact.

“Hey!”

Mister Barry’s voice was a harsh snap that made her jump. Her tummy dropped and head buzzed with nerves as the sharpness set her on edge.

She tried to back away as his voice lowered to a growl, “No! Lily. We don’t hit!”

She tried to jerk away again, but he didn’t let go.

Mister Barry crouched down to her eye level, her fist locked in his hand. The softness from his face was gone and his dark eyes had lost any light as they burrowed into her.

She swallowed down the sudden knot in her throat as she found herself stuck.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments as he stared at her.

His gaze left her to someone behind her, but she couldn’t look away as he watched before his features went blank.

He turned his attention back to her.

He inhaled slowly, before he grunted, “Lily, I want you to take a big, deep breath.” She shook, then tugged on her hand.

He didn’t let go, and she squirmed with a breath of protest. Mister Barry’s grasp changed from her wrist to her upper arms as he held her still.

She dug her feet in with a puff to try and break his grip.

He rumbled in warning, “Lily...”

Lily went still. She glowered at him, mad as she could ever be. He was supposed to watch her and he left her downstairs.

He was stupid, and mean, and- And-

And she wished he would just stop looking at her like she did something bad!

He was the one who did something wrong! Not her!

She continued to give him a dirty look; but his eyebrow simply rose as he grunted, “Kid. I can do this all day.”

You have a big dumb face! And you dress stupid! She thought angrily, before she defiantly took the biggest breath she could.

Cold air from the outside filled her lungs as she breathed in. She winced as the bite of the frigid temperatures stung.

She bet if she held her breath long enough, she’d turn blue!

That would show him!

Mister Barry also breathed in deep through his nose; the noise audible like ocean. His chest expanded as he sat crouched before her and released her left upper arm to settle his hand on her shoulder as he stared her down, and paused.

The cold air burned as it tried to get out of her, it made her throat feel scratchy.

“Breathe out.” He mumbled to her as he deflated slowly in an exhale through his mouth.

At first she tried not to, because why would she do anything he said? But when she took too long, he reached over with his right hand gently cupped her jaw and with a slight smirk, pressed on both sides of her puffed-out cheeks.

A raspberry blew out of her lips and her tongue pressed to them in an obnoxious wet fart noise that took her off guard and made her shoulders shake as she began to silently giggle.

The light returned back to Mister Barry’s face as his smirk turned into a warmer grin.

She made the noise again and her lips buzzed so much that they tickled.

A breathy chuckle left the man before her as he encouraged in a low whisper, “Alright Lils, let’s do that again. This time though, breathe out without my help, okay?”

She caught herself nodding as he gave another deep breath, and she followed. The cold air didn’t hurt as much this time and he didn’t hold it as long, before she breathed out and felt just a little lighter than how she did a few moments ago.

Mister Barry’s shoulders seemed to lower as he gave a soft sigh.

They did it a third time, this time together and unprompted; because she saw Mister Barry start to take another deep breath once more.

Lily blinked and wondered if this was magic, if only because all the scary things felt distant now. Her head didn’t buzz and she didn’t feel as mad.

Did Mister Barry make them cast a spell of some sort? She wasn’t sure.

He sat down on the floor in front of her. He set his hands in his lap as he grunted, “Now.” He cleared his throat, “You got overwhelmed and scared downstairs?”

There were so many people, she’d been scared and didn’t know where he was or when he was coming back.

She felt that hot feeling of anger return as she nodded, and scowled at him.

Mister Barry stared at her, then rubbed at the scruff on his jaw. His tired eyes squinted before he muttered, “What, you blame me for it?”

She nodded. He was supposed to be there. She huffed in irritation as she gave him the meanest glare she could muster.

“Well.” He began as he breathed in sharply through an open mouth. He held his breath once more before he let out a loud puff as his eyes drifted to the ceiling. He was silent for a moment in thought, before he turned his attention back to her.

“Lily.” He began, “I didn’t realize it would scare you as badly as it did. I’m sorry that I left you downstairs with Auntie Luna.” He licked his lips as he slowed in his words, “I won’t… promise that you aren’t going to end up by yourself in a new place again.”

Alarm bells began to raise and she felt the urge to yell at him again before he held up a finger and continued, “But, if there’s going to be a bunch of new people like here at the house, and it’s not at school or something where you’re supposed to be without me, then we’ll make sure you’re settled before I go anywhere. Okay?”

Lily pressed her lips together as she considered his offer. She squinted grumpily at him as she tried to think over what he meant.

Mr. Fox who was face down on the floor chimed up from where he had fallen behind her. It sounded like Mister Barry was at least trying to make up for what happened.

She looked over her shoulder to the plush, only to realize that the old man and Uncle Enzo were watching.

Uncle Enzo’s arms were crossed and he had a small smirk on his face, his shoulders shook like he was trying not to laugh; but he said nothing as she looked at him and he simply nodded his head back ahead of her to Mister Barry.

As though saying, ‘don’t look at me, you figure this one out yourself.’

She looked back ahead with a wide-eyed stare.

She had forgotten the other two men were there.

Mister Barry seemed to ignore them though as he watched, like he was waiting for her to respond.

Well. Lily thought, He did say he was sorry… Granny always said you should forgive someone if they apologize.

This time when she nodded, she didn’t feel weird about it.

Mister Barry’s head bobbed in a nod and then he looked up past her, “Good. Now. You two done being the fuc-” Mister Barry caught himself again and swallowed down what he was going to say before he muttered, “the peanut gallery?”

Enzo and the old man snickered for some reason Lily didn’t understand, before Enzo gave them both a nod and waved, “Yeah, I think we’re all good here. I’ll see you both later tonight. Later, Uncle Antony.”

Mister Barry’s father raised his hand lazily in a wave before Uncle Enzo departed back out the double doors.

Lily looked back to Mister Barry who began to pick himself up off the floor with a groan. He dusted off his pants.

“Well then, let’s get this over with .” He set his left hand in his pocket and gestured towards the man who watched them both with a warm smirk, “Lily. Meet my dad. He uh…” His brows furrowed and his voice twisted into a mutter, “He wants you to call him Nonno Russo.”

The older man’s smirk turned into a grin before he rose to his feet and approached. He offered his hand out for Lily to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Lily.” Nonno Russo greeted, and Lily peered at the big hand.

It was hard to see in the firelight, but his fingers had lighter lines that decorated them and seemed like they were scarred in various areas.

But he was offering her a handshake, so she reached up, and shook it.

Mr. Fox quickly decided he had a good handshake, and like Auntie Allie, he also passed the handshake test.

Barry

In the end, they had left Luna back at the Russo family estate to go home with Ricky.

Barry didn’t have it in him to entertain his aunt any further than what had already occurred; and the kid was wiped out from the whole experience of being fully immersed in the family dynamics of both the Pompeii and Russo family all being in one house.

His dad had been taken with the little girl once they had begun to talk. The time they spent together had even ended with Lily writing as the man asked her questions, but by the time he had gotten her coat back on her and she was clutching to that fox toy of hers to go home, he all but had to carry her out of the house.

It made the radio that played quietly in his car seem almost silent in comparison to all of the noise they had just left.

Thankfully the smell of food had followed them. He had ended up with a bag full of cooked meals and fresh bread thrust into his arms on the way out.

Aunt Allie had insisted he take it, and Cassidy had just stared daggers at him as he thanked them both before he ran like hell from the ticking time-bomb that was his cousin’s wife.

It wasn’t that he was scared of Cass, nor was it that he didn’t want to hear from her. But Barry had no doubt there were going to be words from the mother of three, and it was going to either raise his blood pressure, or his erase his nearly eroded sanity if he stuck around for any sort of ‘quick’ conversation.

Thus, by the time he rolled up to his townhouse and parked out front of it, he was jealous of Lily’s ability to sleep in her booster seat with the whole world passing her by, and without the pressures of family expectations on her shoulders.

He made sure to take her in first and put her to bed, before he came back for the food bags and fresh bread that made his car smell so good.

He salivated at the thought of what dinner was going to be that evening. It was a good distraction from his phone that had vibrated nonstop since they had left.

He knew the first two were from Luna who had apologized for Lily ending up in a right state, and then a series of observations he didn’t want to look at yet.

The rest were probably other members of the family, or his father.

His brain was still back on the smoking room as he made his third coffee of the day. She had hit him.

She had actually swung at him.

Barry rubbed his face as he considered what happened, and scratched at his jaw stubble as he sighed.

It had taken all his self-control not to yell at Lily, or respond back instinctually. Lily being a little kid made it feel more like a tap than anything he had experienced coming up, but for a moment he was outright indignant that she would even dare to do it to start.

Had Enzo not been on the other side of the room, waving his hands as he shook his head frantically, and mouthing ‘breathe’ to him, Barry wasn’t sure what he would have done.

He wouldn’t have hit her, he knew that.

He would rather have his left hand chopped off again than strike the kid.

But what would have come out of his mouth?

He inhaled the coffee from his pour-over and turned the thought away for the moment. He turned his attention to the microwave clock.

It was just cresting into the afternoon.

“Maybe another half hour…” He mumbled with a shake of his head.

As tired as she had been, if he let Lily sleep the afternoon away she would end up staying up too late again.

Luna had said if they wanted to get ahead of her night terrors, a consistent sleep schedule would be a good start.

He finally checked his phone and ignored the ’13 messages’ notification as he flipped over to reddit with the simple question of, ‘what is a decent bed time for a first grader?’

He quickly found himself on the couch as he sipped his coffee and falling down an information rabbit hole. The parents of reddit all chimed in with the questions he had in other instances and he tried to absorb it as he muttered, “7:30 PM to 8:30 PM?”

He clicked on a different thread, and he frowned as he read how some poor sap’s kids had a 7:30 AM school start time.

Who the fuck was learning anything at that time?

He was usually clocking in at 8:00 AM most days.

The general consensus was that Lily would probably need around 10 to 11 hours of sleep, which outright stumped him.

Before he could think any further on it though, a 14th message notification appeared at the top of his screen that he couldn't ignore.

NEW MESSAGE
Dad:
Proud of you, kid.

Barry felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach and nearly choked on his coffee.

What the hell? Why? He thought, and clicked on the message to see it was the last one his old man sent him in a string of texts.

Dad: Good job keeping your cool. I’da smacked the shit out of you.

Dad: We’ll figure out schedules for the family carpool once she’s enrolled at Saint Angela’s so you’re sorted for the rest of the school year with work.

Dad: I’ll put in a call with the Dean so we can get a meeting on the books for late enrollment.

Dad: Being a single father is difficult. Call me when you need help. But, you got this.

Dad: Proud of you, kid.

“Who the fuck is this guy, and where the hell did he stash my old man?” Barry muttered aloud. He couldn’t stop the small smile though that turned his lips upward before he heard noise upstairs.

He looked up to see the familiar bare feet of a child on the top step.

Lily descended as she rubbed her eyes and sleepily peered at him, her stuffed fox plush curled in her arm.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid.” He called over and she winced with a frown. He understood that feeling all too well as he took a deep swig of coffee from his mug.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and shuffled towards him.

Once she came to a stop in front of his knees, she jutted her hand out with a bracelet on her wrist and stared at him.

He looked over his mug to peer at it.

He instinctually reached down with his left hand and paused as the bracelet vibrated hard against his palm with the heavy presence of magic.

“Huh…” He tilted his head and looked back up at her. Lily continued to frown, but lifted and then set back down her arm on his knees in emphasis.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he set down his mug with a ‘tch,’ before he asked, “Did Luna give you this?”

Lily nodded, and he restrained his own urge to fall into surliness.

He wasn’t sure if he approved of her meddling without talking to him about it first.

Since it was just the two of them for the moment, he undid the clasp and took the bracelet off. He looked at the small chain, tracing the charms on it with his finger. There was a little fox, a flower, a peace sign, a dog, and a wishbone.

His eyes narrowed on that last one, before he turned his attention back to Lily to speak.

The words died in his mouth as she stiffened with a sharp breath, then looked around.

Her eyes locked onto the darkened hearth of his fireplace.

He turned his attention over as well, only to go still.

A toothless, lipless gaping maw peered back.

The darkness undulated within the confines of the hearth and then begun to pour out.

He felt his throat tighten as it edged close and slunk beneath the table.

Alarm silently rang through his mind as Lily walked over and crouched down as though she were looking in on it.

He watched a single tendril move close to her, before it poured into her shadow and settled as a black mass that made the floor disappear entirely in it’s area.

The little girl with curly hair just looked down at it, a frown on her face that soon turned into a sharp glare as her blue eyes smoldered and her small jaw set.

The temperature in the room dropped slightly, but Barry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

He reached down and touched the edge of the shadow outright.

It felt cool to his fingertips. His left hand almost numbed before he grunted in surprise as the magic manifestation shot immediately into his shadow, instead.

Lily’s head snapped up to him, eyes wide and her eyebrows vanished behind her bangs as she peered at him. The little kid closed the distance between them to stand beside his legs again and look down at the dark beneath him.

Barry meanwhile, tried to keep calm about the feeling of the ethereal force wrapped so neatly into his own silhouette.

He tried to identify if it was inactive, parasitic, or benign. He instinctively slapped numb his left hand against his knee to try and wake it up, he could tell at minimum it was somehow connected with his pact.

He looked back down at the charm bracelet in hand; before a theory crossed his mind and he unceremoniously dropped it onto the floor into his own shadow.

The reaction was instant.

Lily jumped as a muted bomb went off, the dark pitch that had amassed on the floor broke apart in a violent splatter, the entity shredded by contact with the silver chain.

The lamps in his living room dimmed for a moment before they soon returned to normal brightness.

Barry stared aghast around the living room that now looked like some joke of an art homage to the movie, ‘101 Dalmatians.’

He looked down at Lily, “Did you know it was going to do that?”

Her curly hair fluttered side to side as she vigorously shook her head no.

He watched as almost like liquid, the shadows began to slide down from their impact spots on the wall towards the floor, before they started to disintegrate into the air.

Something moved in the corner of his eye and he locked onto it.

A smaller darkened shadow scurried away like it was a cockroach that had been caught in the light.

He reached back down and picked up the bracelet.

It burned in his left hand and felt normal to the touch in his right.

He sucked on his teeth in thought before he got up, pocketed it, and looked back to Lily.

“Alright sweetheart.” Barry started, “You know how we talked earlier with Auntie Luna and you wrote down what you wanted to say?”

Lily nodded.

“You up for doing that again? But, just you and me this time.”

He was surprised as the little girl nodded once more. This time, it was so enthusiastic she practically buzzed with energy. His concern practically vanished as her freckled face beamed at him.

He swallowed down the nervousness he felt in the wake of the magical child. Her eagerness was infectious.

Careful Baer, Lil’s gonna get you wrapped around her finger, if you don’t watch it.

But he could feel something in his mind shifted as the world outside the walls of his home seemed to get a little quieter. It was like an odd calming effect settled into him on the fact it was just him and her for the time being, and the chaos of the past few days were locked outside of this moment.

“Alright then.” He breathed in, “I’ll make some tea, and we’ll have that talk I promised ya.”

The last thing he needed was for this conversation to happen over caffeine.

He was relatively certain his blood pressure wouldn’t be able to take it.

Lily

Lily thought they were just going to have a talk, but Mister Barry had set the dining room table like they were at a tea party.

After he had packaged her school things and set them in one of the empty boxes by the couch, he had set up the good smelling bread from Nonno Russo’s house, a small cup with a lid of warm, tasty sweet tea, and small plates for both of them that he had already set some bread on with another that had some butter.

He sat beside her as he held a large mug in his hands of what he called ‘chamomile,’ tea while she had her colored pencils, crayons, and notebook in front of her and her small plate.

She looked back down at the notebook from her conversation with him and Auntie Luna earlier where she explained all Granny taught her.

What had confused her though during the conversation was how Auntie Luna asked how much time she spent with other kids her age, whether or not Granny knew about the shadows, and what Lily liked to do for fun?

It was after she had told them there weren’t other kids her age around that Mister Barry began to get grumpy.

It was just her and Granny, but she liked to play hide and seek.

Though sometimes Granny hid her in the shed for a while, and while Granny did know about the shadows; she didn’t play with them like Lily liked too.

Mister Barry hadn’t liked to hear about any of it.

Now though, Mister Barry watched her over his mug and it seemed like he was almost in a good mood.

He set his cup down on a small cork disk called a ‘coaster,’ then nodded to her and said, “So, here’s what I’m thinking.”

She sat up straight as he leaned over his mug towards her, “We’ll play a game called, ‘Ask me anything,’ but with a twist. You’ll ask a question, and I’ll answer, but then I’ll get to ask a question, and you answer. And we just go until we’re tired of questions.” He smiled, “How’s that sound, Lils?”

That sounded pretty good to Lily. She liked the idea of them going back and forth. It felt like when she first met Mr. Fox and they had begun to get to know each other.

Mr. Fox chimed up from his chair beside her that he also liked this idea.

Lily smiled and nodded to him, before she looked at Mister Barry who gave one of his own and waved his hand to her, “Alright then, shoot.”

Lily picked up the purple crayon beside her, then paused.

What would be a good first question to ask him?

She had so many.

How did he know about the shadows? It didn’t seem like he could hear them.

Why was his family so big? She hadn’t seen anything like them before.

Why did he snore so loud?

She muddled through the growing list that had occurred since she arrived before she decided on one that worked best.

She wrote it down before he leaned closer to her to see what was on the notepad.

‘How did you know Granny? You sed you were frends.’

Mister Barry went stiff and Lily wondered if he was going to get upset again. The adult breathed in deep, then sighed. The chair creaked as he leaned back into it before he gave a low, ‘heh,’ and slight smile.

He was quiet for a moment more, before his voice smoothed to an easy drawl, “Your granny and I came up together when I was younger. She knew my dad, and uh…” He searched the ceiling for something, then continued, “he used to have me go on trips with her.”

How he said trips felt deeper, like something more was there, but Lily didn’t interrupt and listened intently.

He licked his lips and his hands interlaced together on the table in front of him as he turned his gaze to her. His thumbs separated out from his entangled fingers as he shrugged, “We used to be two peas in a pod, kiddo. She taught me quite a bit. Hadn’t heard from her though after she split from the City about ten years ago.”

He shrugged, “She was definitely one of my favorite people while she was around.”

Her face heated at his words and her eyes itched, but she took a deep breath to try and keep from sniffling.

Lily nodded. Granny was her favorite person too.

She had cried a lot lately. She missed Granny Bella, but she didn’t want to cry anymore.

She struggled with it a moment before Mister Barry grasped the capped drink and slid it towards her.

“Take a sip kid, you’ll feel better.” He offered, and she grabbed hold of it and took a big gulp.

The sweet, soft taste of the tea warmed her throat and chest before she gave a soft huff and held it tight. She felt better after a few moments.

She then looked up at him with her face scrunched and squinted at him.

“My turn?” He chuckled.

Lily nodded.

“Who’s he and what’s his name?” Mister Barry leaned over her to Mr. Fox and gestured down with a tilt of his head, “You two seem pretty close. You’ve been takin’ him everywhere since we unpacked.”

Lily looked down at Mr. Fox as her best friend gasped in excitement.

It had been a long time since anyone had spoken about Mr. Fox, or even acknowledged that they were together.

Lily listened as the fox told her enthusiastically all he could in a single breath, practically ready to bounce out of his seat as he gave everything from his birthday to his thoughts on the tasty tea she drank.

He asked if they could all play spies together.

He also asked if Barry was good at hide-and-seek.

You can’t just call him Barry, that’s rude. Lily chided but Mr. Fox’s enthusiasm practically rippled beneath his velveteen cover as he quieted down.

She had written down what she could though.

‘His name is Mr. Fox, and he’s my bestest frend. He’s rood, doesn’t listen, and called you Berry instead of Mistar Berry. Sorry. He doesn’t know any better. He likes pye and playing hide-and-seek, and his birfday is April 1st, when Granny gayv him to me.’

Mister Barry read the response and then gave a low laugh before he grinned at her.

“My name is spelled like this.” He picked up a pencil and quickly wrote it down below her response.

‘Barry’

His handwriting was neat in comparison to hers. She tried to contain her jealousy as she pouted up at him.

“But also, just call me Barry, Lily.” She looked up wide eyed.

He grinned at her with a wink, “Mister is reserved for my father. You’re living with me, so, Barry’s just fine. No need for stuffy titles.”

Stuffy? She was told it was polite.

She had never been allowed to call an adult just their name.

Granny had said it was really rude.

But Granny wasn’t here right now, and Mister Barry said it was cause she lived with him.

She never called Granny anything but Granny Bella or just Granny.

Mr. Fox suggested this was what the adults called, ‘an exception,’ and she nodded in agreement.

Maybe it only applied to Mister Barry, since he had said Uncle Enzo was Cousin or Uncle Enzo, and Auntie Luna was Auntie Luna, and the others all followed that when she had met them.

She smiled and nodded. She had never been able to call an adult just their name. It felt like she was being allowed to do something secret.

She liked it.

She quickly grabbed her crayon and began to write down her next question.

‘How come the shadows talk so much here, but not in other places and y did the brayclet make that other one blow up?’

“So they do talk to you?” Barry asked after he read it, and she nodded.

His lips pulled down in a frown and he looked out to the living room from their seats, before he grunted, “Well…” He scratched at his jaw as he let out a hiss of breath through his teeth, “Tell you the truth, not quite sure. They don’t talk to me. But they do what I tell e’m.”

Barry looked down at her, “How long have they talked to you?”

‘Forever.’

Lily looked back up to the adult expectantly as he considered her and then the living room again. He didn’t answer the second part of her question.

Mr. Fox told her to be patient.

This was the most they had gotten out of an adult that had actually made sense in the past week, and maybe Barry would keep telling them things if he could think on them.

Her patience was rewarded as Barry soon began, “As far as I can tell, the bracelet Luna gave you is probably a sort of ward. She’s got a knack for them. So on contact, I think it made the shadows back off big time.”

His forehead creased as his brows furrowed and he gave her a puzzled frown, “She probably gave it to you so that way you, and everyone else would be safe.”

There was that word again, safe.

She stared at him a bit longer and tried to figure out how she wanted to respond to that.

It confused her, because the shadows had never seemed dangerous. Granny didn’t like them, but they never bothered anyone.

Barry seemed to follow that line of thought too, because he continued, “Magic doesn’t work so well with folks who ain’t like us, Kid. People that don’t know it’s out there.” He reached up and his finger pressed against her temple, “Makes them a bit… crazy. They can’t handle it. Gets them scared and then they ah… well.”

He intertwined his fingers again and shrugged as he mumbled, “They don’t react well.”

‘Whut do you mean?’

Barry winced at her with a tight smile. His voice grew quiet, “They get hurt, and sometimes, they’re so hurt, they hurt themselves.”

That sounded dumb.

Why would someone hurt themselves? Like they had some sort of accident?

She wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but Barry continued on anyways, “So, as far as I can tell, the bracelet helps keep everyone safe if the shadows don’t come around when you wear it.”

‘But you sed they do whut you tell them, can’t you make them just not hert people?’

Lily clenched her hands tight on her notebook as the adult’s smile shrunk and a pained expression stretched across his features.

His head bobbed in confirmation to her question, “Yeah. I can, kid. But you’re little. And from what I can tell, learning. So I ain’t too sure that you can, yet.”

Oh.

Lily deflated as that settled in.

Mr. Fox barked in outrage that they were in fact, not little. They were older than they were two years ago, and that meant they were bigger than when she was four.

She wondered how old was Barry?

Mr. Fox snapped that if they were little, he was ancient.

She winced and looked to the silver bracelet that laid on the other side of the table. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but did that mean she would have to not hear the shadows anymore?

She didn’t know if she liked that either.

Granny had never gotten hurt, but Granny also did strange things to keep them from ever doing what all they did here. Like they couldn’t get past the jars that were buried in the dirt. Or they paid attention to the strange marks Granny would carve in the doors.

“Hey hey.” She was yanked from her thoughts as he leaned over and bumped her side gently with his arm, “Don’t look so glum.”

She pouted at him.

How was she supposed to look? He was telling her she might not be able to play with her friends around people.

The adult chuckled. “We’ll figure it out. If they’ve been around you forever and they talk to you; then we just gotta get it so they listen to you. Like they listen to me, yeah?” Lily considered that as Barry’s face had turned back to an easy smile and he set his hand on her back, “And we can work on that.”

Lily wasn’t sure she liked the idea of working on it. Mostly because she didn’t like the idea of ‘work.’

Work was something the adults constantly complained about and typically came with their jobs and they always seemed to be tired when they mentioned it.

But maybe he could teach her more about the shadows in a way Granny couldn’t.

Granny had never talked about the shadows like they were now.

She took a deep breath in, and then sighed. She nodded. She picked back up her crayon.

‘OK I guess.’ Her head bobbed at him, ‘your turn.’

Barry

The notepad was filled with crude, occasionally misspelled words by Lily’s hand, and then a few of his own that looked practically immaculate in comparison.

Barry considered his next question as he carefully peeled back the layers of his young ward. He didn’t want to ask anything too invasive as Lily seemed to be generally enjoying the way this was going.

He didn’t want to ruin that.

It was the most happy she’d been since she arrived.

He scratched at his jaw as he tongued the side of his cheek, before he asked, “Ya know who Dante Costa is, by chance?”

She perked up and nodded, another wide smile appeared on her face. She practically glowed at being able to answer.

His chin dipped in encouragement, “Alright, who is he?”

Lily picked up a crayon in her fist and quickly wrote:

‘He was Papa.’

His stomach dropped and throat tightened. He inhaled slowly with a nod, and considered the grimoire in his desk upstairs.

He licked his lips as he asked, “Was?”

Lily nodded again

‘Granny sed he died when I was born.’

When she was born? Barry repeated to himself as he swallowed down that knowledge.

Not after, not before.

When.

He considered the little girl who sat beside him and waited as he tried to figure out what to even say to that.

He was at a loss before he waved a hand and grabbed his mug to give himself something to grip, “Go ahead, your turn.”

She perked up again. He watched as she carefully wrote letter after letter. She had slowed down her writing and her letters were a little neater. He looked at the way her fingers curled around the crayon in a fist and considered if he should correct the posture for the moment, but let it be for now as she asked:

‘Y do you ware a glove inside?’

He swallowed the knot in his throat along with a swig of the chamomile tea. The honey and milk did wonders to keep him grounded as he wiggled his toes against the floor.

Given he’d just unknowingly asked the kid about her dead Dad, he figured that question was fair.

Holy shit, Bella really did have a kid. It wasn’t some freak adoption. He inhaled deeply as he tried to figure out the way to explain the situation with his limb.

After a two second unwise decision, he shut his eyes and gave a shrug.

As far as he knew, she was going to be here until she reached legal age or some other sort of weird shit happened. He undid the velcro around his glove that compressed his wrist, and with a thumb under the material, pried it off.

The scarred, discolored cellulose monstrosity stared back at him.

She leaned over and observed it like it was some sort of science experiment, his Lichtenberg scarification matched only by the discolored runes that ran down his fingers and into his palm.

Those big blue eyes looked up at him, and then smiled and turned back down. She reached over to her notebook and wrote a single word.

‘Pretty!’

Disbelief gut punched him.

He let out a breathless laugh as he questioned, “Pretty!?”

She nodded and it was so sincere, he couldn’t help the dam break on his nerves as he cupped a hand to his eyes and tried to hold back a torrent of emotion that swept through him in a fit of hysterical laughter.

The past five days crashed onto him and Barry tried to keep his shit together.

The laughter quelled into a muffled snicker that inched its way dangerously to a sob, before he forced a deep breath that was interrupted only further by an additional shocked chortle.

“Ya know, kid.” He began, “You’re a bit strange.”

He couldn’t look at her.

Those big blue eyes would absolutely destroy him, if he looked at her.

He managed to steady his breath and his voice as he continued, “In 20 years, ain’t no one ever called my hand pretty.”

He heard the shuffle of papers and the sound of her scribbling, before he chanced a look at the words.

‘There dumb. Its pretty.’

The grammar was wrong, the intention was sincere, and she stubbornly looked up into his face as though she dared him to disagree with her.

He was too stumped to even try.

He shook his head, “Well. Be that as it may, we don’t talk about my hand because it gets people upset.”

Her eyebrows shot up and he could tell her question before it was even written.

He shrugged, and agreed, “They are dumb. But some things aren’t worth a fight over. However.” He held his left hand up and curled it to hold out one finger, “It lets me do some pretty cool things.”

He felt the magic ready as it sensed his intention like a dog to a well taught command.

He was going to have to keep himself together in this, otherwise it wasn’t going to be nearly as cool as he hoped.

He snapped his fingers, and one of the shadows shot out from beneath the couch and to the box of her things. A sheet of various colored star stickers shot over to him in the air, and he looked down.

He found an orange one that was the same color as Mr. Fox and took it off before he put it on her cheek.

Lily’s attention shot from the box of her education materials to him, then back, then to the sticker sheet in his hand.

Her eyes widened and mouth partially opened before she scrambled for her notebook.

‘I WANNA BE ABLE TO DO THAT.’

He gave a hard laugh as the desired effect of his composure was reached and Lily practically bounced in her chair.

She held up her hand and rubbed her pointer and middle finger together in thumb, and in an attempt to snap, gave a full overly exaggerated flick of her wrist that failed to make any noise at all.

She attempted to do it again, and once more, failed.

Barry felt the smile break onto his face and only realized halfway as another laugh rocked his body. He shook his head and pat her gently on the back as she pouted at her fingers and then looked back to him.

“Maybe with time.” He offered, and she continued to adorably pout.

He reached up and ruffled her hair. His now bare scarred hand so odd against her curly brown locks that he could only shake his head with another smile.

His hand didn’t vibrate with any magical activity. It was eerie to see the combination.

She however looked up and then wrote down:

‘That tickles.’

He felt his smile lessen if only slightly as he considered the implications and removed his hand from her head.

He gestured to her notebook and rapped gently on it with a knuckle. “Alright, one more question, then I wanna break for a snack. Auntie Allie’s bread is the best in the family. Ya got to try it.”

Her stomach growled as though in agreement.

He looked down at it with a raised brow and she grimaced with a glower towards it, before she shrugged and then nodded.

Her emotions were so fleeting, Barry could barely keep up with them. For the moment though, he was content to just go along for the ride.

She studied him as she puzzled over her final question. He gripped his mug and downed another swig of chamomile tea as he managed to get the last bits of himself under control.

She grabbed her notebook, peered back at him, and then looked to Mr. Fox as though she were responding, shaking her head to some sort of unspoken conversation.

He wondered if he tried to use magic if he might hear it.

He had tried to read minds once.

It had resulted in a nose bleed.

The conversation they were having quickly wrapped up before he could do anything.

She turned back and wrote it down quickly, then thrust it in front of him.

Another soft laugh left him as she pushed the notepad in front of him again all the seriousness of a crew’s boss doling out orders after he read the words.

‘Can we get fairy lites for our bedroom?’

“You talking’ about those little strings of wire lights?” He asked after he finished snickering and silently reassuring himself that she didn’t mean actual faeries.

God forbid if they had faeries around the damn house.

He wasn’t even sure they existed, but if it was more magic, he had no doubt it’d be a headache in the making.

She nodded

His shoulders shook as he laughed in relief, “Yeah, sure kid. I’ll get ya some pretty lights.”

Continue to Chapter Eight

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Good Afternoon Mr. Russo,

Please see attached what records we were able to pull from the state education system for Lily’s homeschooling certification.

Prior testing shows she reads at a third grade level and was competent with first-grade math.

She still is working her way through being able to tell time and writing legibly. I have included a list of tutors in the event that she is found to be behind, but I can tell you from my time with her she is very bright.

Regarding the antiquated infestation; please fill out the report attached so I may ensure you are provided the appropriate remedies.

In the meanwhile, I suggest you manage your indoor home/water temperatures accordingly to ensure your pipes do not freeze due to unexpected temperature fluctuations.

Finally, concerning medical: I have attached her milestone vaccines, dentist records, and her initial behavior evaluation by the police during intake.

It appears there were no other visits to speak of other than a case of chicken pox when she was four. I’ve included them for your review.

I am glad she has adjusted despite the short time. I’d like to set up a call with you next week to discuss some of the findings from the Costa household that might shed some light on Lily’s situation prior to coming into your guardianship.

Things have been coming in fast and messy; so it’s taken some time to get organized.

Please feel free to contact me via text at my number below to arrange the call, or if something urgent arises.

I imagine you have a lot of questions.

Warm Regards,

Mary Thompson, LCSW

Acquisitions Department
Apocryphal Incorporated
(207) 000-0001

A Little Earlier…

Lily

Mister Barry and Auntie Luna were quiet as they drove somewhere.

Lily wasn’t quite sure where they were going, but wherever it was had Mister Barry upset since he got a phone call after she had told them both about Granny’s lessons.

She wasn’t sure if him being upset was because of what she said or because of where they were going.

Throughout her writing to explain what all Granny had taught her, Mister Barry’s face had gotten more firm until he scowled at the pile of her schoolbooks and notebooks, while Auntie Luna smiled quietly and encouraged her to continue.

She wasn’t certain if Mister Barry had been mad at her, or something she was saying.

But whatever it had been that had made him upset, it only got worse when the phone-call happened.

He had stepped away, but she had been able to hear another man’s voice over the line due to how loud they were speaking, and the way Mister Barry tried to speak only to be cut-off and quieted.

Auntie Luna cleared her throat a few minutes into it and drew her attention, before the older woman told her softly, “Come on Lily, let’s go get you dressed. I’ve a feeling we’re going to have to take a short trip in a few.”

Then the older lady led her away, and they got her dressed in one of her favorite hoodies and leggings. The ones with the butterflies on her legs and a big fox on the hoodie.

After, Auntie Luna offered her a silver chain with multiple charms on it.

The shadows hissed in warning, but Lily liked the small fox with green gems for eyes that dangled off the bracelet as Auntie Luna told her, “Here sweetie, this will keep you safe.”

The shadows quieted down and went still as soon as Lily put it on.

She guessed that meant they didn’t hate it that much; otherwise they would have told her not to put it on at all.

But since she had put the bracelet on, they hadn’t said anything more about it.

Mister Barry’s car crunched onto gravel as they made a turn. Lily bounced in her booster seat and Mr. Fox rocked in her lap as she hugged him to her chest. She stretched her neck to survey over Auntie Luna’s seat and gave a soft breath as they approached a big black gate.

Lily had never been to a house that had a front gate like the one from storybooks; much less the kind that was so big, a car couldn’t move through it without someone opening it for them. But this gate was just like the ones she had read about. It had pretty curves and whirls in its metal design and ‘RUSSO’ on the very top of it.

She watched from the backseat as Mister Barry pressed a white button on a black box above his head on his overhead flip-down mirror.

Without anyone helping, the big black gate creaked opened with a loud squeak of its hinges.

When nothing happened after, she was instantly disappointed.

She had expected the world to go dark and lightning to crack in the background instead of the bright snowy day.

But it didn’t happen.

It just opened and Mister Barry drove them up to the biggest house she had ever seen.

It was two stories tall with a balcony along the outside of the second floor. The paint of the home was more pink in comparison to the snow outside and it had a large red roof. It had too many windows to count and a deck wrapped around its bottom floor, unlike the small steps that made up Mister Barry’s front door.

The bushes outside of the house were also in different shapes. They were snow crusted while the path up to the home was clear. She studied the yard that was absent of any snow angels or snowmen.

She thought big houses like this were supposed to have them during the winter, like in the movies, but instead the house’s windows were only lit with a soft golden glow that was barely noticeable during the day.

She continued to feel disappointed as Auntie Luna unbuckled her from the booster seat and her feet blinked with blue light once her sneakers touched the orange brick squares that made up the path to the doorway.

Lily hugged Mr. Fox who quietly talked about the house enthusiastically.

It seemed bigger than their house in Garnet Harbor, and even bigger than Mister Barry’s house.

Maybe they could find a bunch of places to play hide and seek and spies in there.

Did the house have a butler?

They had never met a butler, and Mr. Fox wondered if they had those silly little bow ties like butlers were supposed to wear.

Mister Barry shut his car door and made his way around to her. He offered her his hand once he reached her, “C’mon kiddo. Let’s get you inside.”

He checked in with Auntie Luna who hovered nearby and nodded with a warm smile. He seemed to relax if only slightly, before he peered back down to her and stated, “No doubt Auntie Luna will find plenty for you two to do while I talk to the D-“ He paused.

His eyes narrowed as he seemed to catch himself on whatever word he was about to say, then corrected himself, “Talk to my Dad.”

She wondered what he was actually going to say before, but nodded as she took his hand and he led them up the path after he shut the car door.

She heard the sound of the massive gate at the front of the driveway clang as it slammed shut, and turned back to see once more, no one was there.

She wished she hadn’t seen Mister Barry press the button.

It would’ve been more interesting if the gate was controlled by ghosts, instead of a switch.

Mr. Fox suggested that maybe it was powered by ghosts instead, and that Mister Barry had to press the button to let them possess the gate to open and close it.

She quickly decided she liked that idea better and then looked back up at the house as her feet lit up the path on each step they took towards the front door. It was only once they were on the first step towards it that she noticed there were a bunch of other cars in the driveway.

She heard the jingling of keys and watched as Mister Barry unlocked the door and ushered them inside.

Lily glanced up and around as soon as they were in. Her eyes widened as she took in how high the ceiling was and the way a bunch of lights hung down in a cluster from it over a wide hallway and staircase.

A group of hooks hung on the wall beside the doorway that already had a lot of coats on it. Mister Barry helped her take hers, his, and then Auntie Luna’s coat off before he hung their’s up with the others.

He removed his shoes, and she followed suit as he murmured, “Now Lily, you’re going to stay with Luna for a little bit while I head upstairs, okay?”

She looked up and around, then back at him, and immediately shook her head.

Mr. Fox also voiced his disagreement.

She didn’t know who the other voices were and he was supposed to stay with her. She grabbed his hand and hung on tight.

He stilled.

The older man’s eyes narrowed and his lips pursed as he gauged her.

She shook her head again and shivered at the thought.

She didn’t want to be left alone down here.

She looked up the stairs, where there was only a dark space like back at Mister Barry’s house. None of the shadows spoke to her though, and their silence felt too big and all consuming.

Despite how big and fancy the house was, there was something wrong with it.

Like it was old and angry…

She didn’t know why.

Two hands planted gently on her shoulders and she and Mister Barry both turned their attention to Auntie Luna who smiled down at her.

Her voice was soft as she murmured, “Lily, why don’t we go into the kitchen and you can meet Aunt Alessandra and Cousin Cassidy?”

Lily felt Mister Barry’s hand curl slightly around her own and his thumb stroke the top of her knuckles as the adult grunted, “They’re here?”

Auntie Luna nodded, “Antony called everyone in, so yes. They’re excited to meet her.” Her attention moved back down at Lily, “I’ll be with you though the whole time, and as soon as Barry is done, we’ll go back home. Okay?”

No. She and Mr. Fox didn’t like this idea.

She held Mr. Fox’s head as he shook it back and forth.

But Auntie Luna’s hands stayed firm on her shoulders and Lily looked back to Mister Barry who peered at Mr. Fox with a raised brow.

He kept a hold of her hand before he crouched down and gave a soft chuckle. She stilled as he rested his gloved hand on the side of her head.

It buzzed and tickled lightly against her cheek. She fought back a smile and silent giggle as she forced a grimace and pulled away while he snickered.

“I’ll come right back, kiddo. Shouldn’t take too long.” He reassured, and she pouted with a scowl.

His raccoon circled eyes curved upwards as he gave a small smile, “Can you be brave and stay with Luna while I take care of some boring adult stuff?” She studied him, then the shadows at the top of the stairs.

He followed her gaze and made a soft hum. He looked back to her and gave a soft squeeze of her hand, “Don’t worry.” He told her quietly, she considered him as he kept his eyes locked on top of the stairs, “They know better than to act up here.”

She considered him for a moment longer, then reluctantly let go of his hand and nodded.

Auntie Luna also gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before Mister Barry nodded and stood back up, “Shouldn’t be too long.” He told them both.

Lily ducked her head as he reached up and ruffled her hair. She grimaced again but watched as he turned and began up the stairs.

She found her gaze locked on his back as his head stayed up and his shoulders seemed so big, she felt like she could climb on them for the best piggy back ride ever.

Mr. Fox told her they didn’t know each other nearly that well yet, but as Mister Barry disappeared into the dark of the upper floor, she winced as her throat tightened and she hugged her best friend a little tighter.

She already wanted him to come back down.

Auntie Luna gave a soft huff of a breath and Lily looked up to see her also watch the stairs, her lips pulled tight before the older woman murmured, “Don’t worry sweetheart.” She smiled down at her, “He grew up here, he’ll be fine.”

Lily grimaced, that didn’t stop her from wanting to follow him into the dark. It didn’t make her feel reassured.

It all felt too different.

Auntie Luna led her down the hall. She stared up at the ball of multiple lights overhead once more until the older lady took them into a massive kitchen. They stepped onto dark blue and white alternating tiles as other women’s voices filled the room.

She smelled something yummy as three women moved around, voices fast and hands waving as they spoke.

The oven had a light on and Lily broke from Auntie Luna’s side to peer in. She found puffy bread being cooked inside.

Luna gave a soft chuckle that broke the conversation as she made herself known.

Lily looked away from the bread as one of the older women spoke. She stood on her tippy toes to see the woman’s face over the counter.

“Where’s the disco, Luna?” She had dark brown hair like walnuts and brown eyes that reminded Lily of Mister Barry’s. Her face softened with a smile that pulled at the age lines across it as she looked Auntie Luna over. A soft chuckle left her as she gestured to Luna, “I’m surprised there’s no snake charm on that belt and you forewent any glitter.”

“I could do with a new charm. Do you think your brother could find me one?” Luna teased.

The stranger laughed in returned with a nod, “Of course, Ricky can’t tell you no. Though I might have an old one laying about that I can give you next time we go to the storage locker.”

Luna smirked with a nod, before she looked over to Lily and then waved her over, “Come here Lily, meet Allie, Cass, and Nonna Russo.”

Lily reluctantly abandoned her perch in front of the tasty smelling oven, and padded over to Auntie Luna who rested her hands back on her shoulders.

“Ladies.” Luna announced from above, “This is Lily. Belladonna Costa’s granddaughter. Barry’s adopted her.”

“Bernardo?” A lady who looked older than Auntie Luna questioned. Her hair was thin and white, while her cheeks hung heavy with age.

She didn’t have big bags like Auntie Luna or Mister Barry did around her eyes, and her skin was darker, like she had been in the sun a lot. She sat on a chair that had been turned out from a long, big wooden table to face the kitchen.

A long cane leaned against the back of the chair beside her and she reached over to grip it and asked, “Is my Bernardo really a papa now?”

“Yes, Marie.” Luna chuckled, and Lily peered up at her. Luna shot her a glance with a quick smile, before she continued, “He’s just upstairs talking with your boys.”

The old woman gave a warm hum with a small smile before she looked down at Lily.

She tilted her head and nodded, “Hello sweetie. I’m Nonna Russo.” She fiddled with a group of strings and two long needles in her lap, then looked back to Luna.

Right when she was about to speak, another interrupted.

The youngest of the three. She had blue eyes, bright blonde hair and a red track suit jacket that had, ‘Saint Angela’s Lacrosse Team Mom,’ on the right breast square.

She looked up at Luna with a frown and her bottom lip out in a pout “Barry… really adopted her?” The two women exchanged a look that Lily couldn’t place, but it made her tummy clench and take a step back towards Luna.

“Yes, Cassidy.” Luna’s tone shifted to something more stern, “It was a dying favor to Belladonna.”

Lily felt Auntie Luna give a comforting squeeze of her shoulders, and she hugged Mr. Fox to her just a little tighter as they looked to the three strangers.

The lady whose name she didn’t know yet gave a soft snicker.

“That boy…” She smiled down at Lily as she shook her head, “As if he didn’t already have his hands full.” She moved forward and crouched in front of them. She wore a dark blue turtleneck dress and leggings.

She smelled nice as she held out a hand to Lily, “Hello sweetheart, I’m Alessandra. But you can call me Auntie Allie.”

Lily hid behind Mr. Fox’s head and shuffled into Luna’s legs. Her throat tightened and she peeked hesitantly over his head to find Alessandra still there.

The older woman waited, hand still raised with a small smile on her face before Lily looked at the long nails the woman had, and the big ring with a pearl on top of the finger that was to the right of her pinkie.

Hesitantly, Lily reached up and shook it.

Mr. Fox decided he liked Auntie Allie as the woman gently gripped Lily’s hand and shook it back, then let go. Granny had always said someone who had a good handshake was worth knowing. He tended to agree.

Auntie Allie chuckled, “You look about my granddaughter’s age.”

Luna nodded, “Lily’s six. I bet you Marie would love to play with someone her own age here in the near future.” Auntie Luna looked to Cassidy with a smile, “Not to mention another little girl would probably help Lily with her own difficulties.” She peered back down to Lily, “You got your notepad and pencils, right?”

Lily did, but she didn’t know if she wanted to talk to these three yet. Also she wasn’t sure about what difficulties Auntie Luna was talking about.

The strangers watched her attentively while she nodded. She looked away, and then around.

The shadows didn’t talk to her or tell her anything about these ladies.

Unlike at Mister Barry’s, they were still and seemed to stay in their dark corners. She couldn’t hear their chatter.

The ladies watched, and she licked her lips.

Their stares made her shift uncomfortably.

Help. She pleaded, but the shadows said nothing back.

She didn’t like the way people looked at her and wanted to go hide in the dark from them.

Her chest clenched as her heart sank, and she tugged in Auntie Luna’s grip.

This was just too much.

She wanted Mister Barry to come back.

She looked up to Luna whose face turned to a small frown, before it broke into another soft smile like she understood.

Her hands drifted from Lily’s shoulders as she murmured, “Why don’t you go explore, Lily? Stay on this floor, but Barry will come back down when he’s done upstairs, and I’ll call you over for a snack in a bit. Okay?”

Lily nodded. Auntie Allie stood up from in front of her and took a step back.

With more space available, Lily immediately fled from in-between the two adults and kitchen, and into the darker room attached.

She felt better once she got away from them.

The heat of their gazes had made her want to hide deep inside her hoodie and the dark of the unlit living room helped the clench in her chest go away.

The tightness in her throat lessened as she and Mr. Fox ran towards the other side of the room, far away from the kitchen entrance and hid behind the big couch.

Her nose scrunched as she caught a whiff of what smelled like Granny’s smokes, but she settled once the ladies didn’t follow her.

She was left alone in the living room.

Despite being encased in shadow though, none of them talked.

She tried to think of why. Were they mad at her?

She looked under the couch to one of the darker spots as she could still hear the four in the kitchen.

It was Auntie Luna’s voice, “She’s not talking right now due to trauma from Bella’s death.” She sighed, “She’s having a real hard time with it.”

Lily stilled from where she sat as she gazed under the couch. She watched as Alessandra’s bare feet crossed the floor back towards a stool at the kitchen counter, “Was it a hit?”

“Barry’s not sure yet. He’s looking into it.”

Cassidy’s voice sounded like she was mad as she grunted, “Of course he is. Honestly, what was Bella thinking though? Barry? Brutal Barry? Think Bella was losing it in old age?”

“Hush, Cassidy.” Nonna Russo grunted, “Barry is a good boy, and he loves you and your children. He’ll be a good father.”

“I’m just saying, there are more… safe members in this family to have a child stay with them.” Cassidy retorted, “Why didn’t he call? Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Who knows, Cass, but right now…” Auntie Allie’s voice was short, “it’s not the time.”

Lily grimaced. What did that mean? A hit? Also why wasn’t Mister Barry, ‘safe’ with children. Why did Cassidy call him, ‘Brutal’ Barry?

Also what was Granny Bella losing in old age? She couldn’t think of anything beyond maybe the ability to bend down as much or pick her up.

Granny had started telling her she was too heavy before-

Before.

Lily gripped tightly to Mr. Fox as she tried to keep The Wolf’s growl at bay in her mind.

She thought about Mister Barry again, who smelled nice and seemed goofy, but like he was mad at something before they even got here.

He didn’t seem so bad, it was just that he couldn’t dress himself, and he got mad over silly things, and seemed to be distracted a lot.

She was able to quiet The Wolf as her best friend to the side while she muddled over what was the ‘trauma’ that she had that the adults kept bringing up?

Lily wondered once more if something was wrong with her.

She looked to Mr. Fox beside her.

He reminded her there wasn’t anything wrong with her.

Granny would have told them if there was something like that to be worried about.

It was probably just because the adults were prone to silly bouts of concern over nothing.

She reluctantly agreed, but couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

Despite the house being so big, there were too many people in it. Granny used to have people over now and then, like the police, or the neighbors, but there weren’t ever this many.

In just three days, she had met more people in any one place than she had in… maybe forever?

There weren’t many before.

There was Doctor Ian, who gave her shots, and Mr. Bob, the neighbor. He was older and liked to play poker with Granny.

Then there were the random people who would come by now and then.

Men and women in suits, but they never stayed long, and she didn’t know their names. Granny sometimes liked them, but most of the time she didn’t. It was never like this, where voices came up from the kitchen from the four women talking, or random people came over like Uncle Enzo had at Mister Barry’s.

Or there were random phone calls of angry men and the adult just listened before they ended it with a grumpy look on their face.

It wasn’t ever like this.

Her gaze wandered the living room as she tuned out the others in the kitchen as they spoke.

Was this what astronauts felt like when they visited alien planets?

Unlike Mister Barry’s, there weren’t any plants in this room and it wasn’t very bright. The outside snow made it seem darker in the room than it was supposed to be with its lights turned off.

The smell in here was familiar with smoke and something old, like potpourri. A big, low table sat in the center of the room, and was surrounded by the big couch she hid behind and chairs. Another table and set of shelves with a big television on it sat on the other side of the table.

The carpet beneath her feet was worn flat rather than puffy like the one at Mister Barry’s. It felt hard and uncomfortable to crouch on.

There were other pictures in here too, including a massive one over the fireplace of a man she didn’t recognize, someone who might be Mister Barry’s father from the picture at Mister Barry’s house, and then a young boy.

She squinted, unsure of who it was as she wandered further to it.

As she got closer, she realized it looked like someone painted it, rather than took a picture.

I want to be able to paint like that. She looked away from the painting and then back to the dark shadows who weren’t talking to her.

Her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out if they were upset?

Mr. Fox also wasn’t any help, as he laid on the low table where she left him after she had picked him up off the ground.

Did she do anything that would make them this quiet? Sometimes they got so mad they wouldn’t talk to her, but even then they would usually move.

She muddled over if there was anything she’d done recently that would have made them mad.

The only thing she could think of was the bracelet.

She looked down at the little charms on a chain, her lip puffed out in a pout as she considered.

Maybe that was it?

She tried to wiggle it off but the clasp was just a little too short for her to be able to get a good grip on it with her nails. She glared at it as she tried for a few moments, grew frustrated, and soon gave up.

Maybe Auntie Luna would help her take it off? Or Mister Barry?

She looked down at the fox charm and winced, then back to Mr. Fox who also looked to the bracelet in thought.

She really hoped it wasn’t the bracelet, she really liked it.

It was pretty and she didn’t have any jewelry like the adults did. This one was nice, and it felt like it was made just for her.

Auntie Luna had also said it would keep her safe. Maybe it was like the wishbone Granny had given her?

That was still in her suitcase when she last checked.

She huffed in defeat for the time being though at the shadows as they still stayed silent.

She quickly decided they were just being dumb if they didn’t like her neat gift Auntie Luna gave her. They were probably just being mean because she didn’t do what they said.

Fine. Be dumb. I didn’t want to talk to you as it is! She snapped, only to feel bad as they didn’t even argue back.

The truth was she really liked talking to them, but they made her frustrated when they did things like this.

She would try to figure out what was wrong with them when she was back at Mister Barry’s house, and the shadows seemed to be more willing to speak.

Maybe it was just because there was something wrong with this house? Mister Barry had said they ‘knew better’ than to do anything here.

She wanted to ask him a bunch of questions once they were home because she didn’t know what he had meant by that either.

She heard the sound of doors opening upstairs, and looked down the conjoined hallway to see someone she didn’t recognize reach the bottom first.

He looked like Uncle Enzo, but older, with hair that reminded her of salt and pepper.

Behind him was another man in a bright colorful floral shirt with a brimmed tan hat on his head. The two paused as the women in the kitchen chatted before the man with the floral shirt patted the bigger man on the shoulder, then broke away for the kitchen.

His voice called out, “Is that my Luna I hear?”

“Ricky, get in here! Your wife is going to cause a scandal.” Auntie Allie called out in a laugh.

‘Ricky’ grinned and Lily watched him disappear through the other archway into the kitchen with the others as she continued to spy on the stranger.

He watched with a small frown, then looked away.

They made eye contact for a moment, and his brows kissed with surprise.

Lily flinched with a start and tucked back to the wall as she hid away.

She looked across the room to Mr. Fox who reminded her to keep quiet as she held her breath and pulled her hood over her head. She heard more footsteps descend the steps as the stranger gave a low grunt.

The ground vibrated beneath her feet with his heavy footfalls as he neared the living room and rumbled, “Hello?”

He rounded the corner before she could bolt for back behind the couch.

Lily froze as the stranger towered over her. Her hood partially hid her face as he peered down at her with a small frown.

He seemed older than Mister Barry, Uncle Enzo, or Auntie Luna. His jaw clenched as he put his hands on his belted hips as he studied her.

“You Barry’s kid?” He asked.

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

Nervously, Lily looked away from him to where Mr. Fox was as her best friend encouraged her to run back to him. She could distantly hear the sound of Auntie Luna, the other women, and the new guy, Ricky, talking.

She swallowed and looked back up at this man before more footsteps vibrated beneath her.

Another large figure rounded the corner as he muttered, “Dad, what are you-“ Only to be cut off as Lily also met his gaze.

Uncle Enzo went still.

He had dark circles around his eyes that weren’t there the night before, and he looked like he was a little green. Her heart pounded in her chest before she looked at the man he called, ‘Dad.’

Then she looked back to Uncle Enzo.

His expression was blank for a moment before he rubbed his face and ran his hand down through his beard.

She looked back between them before she risked a step towards him. Uncle Enzo silently offered his hand out and she quickly grasped it; then hid behind his legs.

She at least knew him since last night. He had bought her pizza, gave her toys, and Mister Barry seemed to really like him.

He was still scary, but he wasn’t as scary as his Dad or the kitchen full of people.

He gave a low chuckle before he muttered, “Sorry Pops, she’s a bit shy.” She looked up to see him watch her, eyes twinkling as he tiredly smiled, then ahead to the man who was even bigger than he was.

“Lily.” He addressed, “This is my father, Giovanni. Most know him as Uncle Gio. Dad. This is Lily.”

Giovanni peered around Enzo as Lily hid behind, before he gave a soft chuckle. His hands slipped into his pockets as he looked back to Uncle Enzo. “Shy, huh?”

Lily felt as Uncle Enzo gave a grunt of confirmation and she tucked further into the large man’s legs as she peered from beneath her hood and around him to the older man.

“What’s going on in he-… well hello there!” Ricky’s voice had drifted into the living room and Lily whipped around to see the man walk in. This close, he seemed to look a little like Auntie Allie in the face as he hovered near the entrance to the kitchen, “This Bella’s kiddo?”

“Easy Rick. She spooks easily.” Giovanni shot the newcomer, and Ricky didn’t move any further.

There were starting to be too many people in the room again.

Lily swallowed down the knot in her throat as she felt her heart start to pound and tightened her grip on Uncle Enzo’s hand.

She looked up at him and then to the two other adults before she tried to hide further away.

She glanced out of the room to the hallway and the stairs.

Where was Mister Barry?

Was he coming back yet?

Her eyes started to heat as she felt cold and hot all at once, and her throat tightened as a panicked choke cut her breaths.

There were so many people and the shadows weren’t talking to her. Mr. Fox tried to tell her it would be okay but she only shook her head as she tried to back away.

Her breath felt tight. Her thoughts raced as she tried to decide what to do, where to go?

She didn’t know any of these people.

She didn’t know this house.

She could hear the adults talking but she couldn’t make out what they said as her thoughts grew too loud and fast.

Her chest grew tight, and her throat grew tighter.

Her heart pounded in her ears.

Maybe if she broke away and ran upstairs, she could find Mister Barry.

Then they could go home and-

A hand rested on top of Lily’s head and she flinched. Her eyes widened as Uncle Enzo had crouched down beside her and his large form took up her view.

She tried to tug away only to pause as he gave a soft, “Shhh, easy honey.”

His arm came up, and he pulled her into a big hug.

Lily froze as the heat of Mister Barry’s cousin surrounded her and she could feel his heart against her chest. He smelled of something that burned her nose, but she clenched tightly to him as he blocked out the others.

He was something familiar and wasn’t as scary as all of this was.

She felt as he rumbled, “You want me to take you to Baer?”

She nodded into his shoulder as she shook with a soft sniffle.

Uncle Enzo scooped her up and held her on his hip without a word.

She could hear Mr. Fox yell not to leave him and looked quickly to her friend on the table, Enzo followed her gaze before he muttered, “Hey Uncle Ricky, can you hand me her toy? I’m gonna take her upstairs.”

“Yeah. Sure thing.” Ricky’s voice was soft as he moved across the room and Lily snatched Mr. Fox from his grip the moment he grew close. She hugged Mr. Fox to her tightly as she hid her face in his plush head and into Enzo’s shoulder.

Enzo’s voice boomed from beside her as he began to move back from where he came, “Hey Luna. I’m taking Lily upstairs to Barry! It’s a bit too much for her down here!”

Lily could smell the mint perfume of the older woman as she moved near. She hid in Mr. Fox’s face further as he growled and snapped at Auntie Luna who hovered too close, but didn’t touch them further.

“Oh boy.” Lily heard her murmur, “I had hoped the living room would be quieter for her, but okay, yes, I think that’s best. Poor thing. I’ll come up with some focaccia once it’s finished baking. She’ll feel a bit better with something else in her stomach.”

Uncle Enzo gave a grunt of thanks, then moved away. Lily swayed as he began to carry her up the steps.

His voice was soft and he muttered to her, “The family is… a lot.” She peeked up at him as the voices of the other adults began to grow quieter while he ascended the stairs, “I dunno how your grandma was, Lils, but mom and dad, the aunts and uncles and Nonna Russo- you get them all together and it’s like walking into a place where the bombs just went off. They’re big and loud.”

He gave a low chuckle and smiled at her, “Probably wasn’t the best idea to bring you in to all of this, all at once. Bit overwhelming.”

She sniffled and he stopped on the top step, before he reached up and with a sausage-sized thumb began to wipe the tears from her eyes, “Chin up kiddo. It’s all over. We’re gonna get you to Baer, and he’ll make it all right, okay?”

She rubbed at her eyes, and sniffled into Mr. Fox. She nodded as Enzo held her tight and moved down the dark hall towards a set of double doors.

He took a whiff and paused outside of them, before he rapped on the door with his free hand, “Smokes away, Gentlemen! Got precious cargo with me!”

A low voice she didn’t recognize called back through the door, “Thought you were headed out, Enny?”

Enzo winked at her before he called back, “Well I found a little princess downstairs that needed saving and she needs Barry. So, help me save her from the second-hand smoke and clean up. We’re coming in.”

Continue to Chapter Seven

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The harsh stench of gunfire and slag interrupted the bite of her cigarette as they sat perched on the roof’s ledge.

Ahead of them, they watched from behind the city’s defensive line as a pockmarked battle field lit up with the sound of mech fire and the thrum of missile ballistas.

Below their dangling feet, the ground rumbled and thundered from the impact.

The weight of his words settled on her shoulders heavier than any bomb blast.

The heat of the warfront caressed her cheeks and hair in a breeze. Combined with the heavy drag from her cigarette, it made her feel hot inside and out.

“You’re sure?” She questioned around the hand-rolled death stick. She pulled it away and tilted her head back to breathe out a steady stream of smoke, “I know I’m usually the one this is being said too, but we could just leave, babe. We don’t have to do this.”

Angela’s husband smirked as he looked ahead to the battle field.

A devil-may-care light glinted in his remaining eye, “I think with this crew, we can do it, and, it’ll get us closer to what we want. Maybe even a foothold.”

The moment they had dismantled the enemy faction’s air supports, watchtower, and cut the supply lines, she had been certain they were ninety percent done their work here.

The final ten had always been optional.

The royal defense front would be able to maintain their grip on the territory; while the enemy military would have to back down due to a battle of attrition they no longer could keep up with.

Given that, their team had fulfilled the terms of their contract.

They could leave, but would be doing so without the guarantee that the defending front couldn’t lose to some tricks the enemy military might still have kept hidden up their sleeves.

She gripped the small box in her right hand, and sighed.

It’s long antenna was already extended, ready to carry out her command.

She had predicted that the same ambition that lost him his first eye, would be the same ambition that would lock them in to a final fire-fight.

“What’s that you got there?” David asked as he peered down curiously. His green eye curved in amusement as he smirked around his cigar, “This why you’ve been down by the river so much?”

Angela grunted in confirmation and a nod, before she armed the device with a flick up of a switch, and revealed the little red button that lay underneath its cap.

She contemplated the secret language between a husband and wife that they had long since grown fluent in.

One that allowed predictability and non-verbal reads in their subtle tones and shifts, and how it let them hold entire conversations through long silences and focused stares.

A dialect of foretelling that had informed her that they were going to end-up up to their eyes in mech fire in just a few hours time… if only to create an opportunity for him to grasp the grandeur he sought out for the both of them.

She wondered what life would be like if she somehow gained a noble title and had ‘Lady’ before the rest of her name.

If he ever succeeded at this crazy dream, would their peers and cohorts think her mad for the atrocities she committed in order to help him achieve it?

Angela didn’t feel anything but satisfaction as she pressed the little red button, and approved the blasts.

They both looked up as the first bridge blew.

The river that cut through the city danced in sequential golden and red explosive light that in a button press, caused seven of the nine bridges to collapse into piles of rubble that fell deep into the water below.

A few enemy mechs taken out with them as their side tried to breach the choke points into the city.

Now there would only be two choke points they had to defend.

David gave a long whistle as he surveyed the destruction while Angela pocketed the bomb detonator and heaved another drag from the death stick.

She flicked it off to the side and it fell into a rubble filled street where it was promptly snuffed out by a passing tank.

The chatter on her radio that had been tuned into the enemy comms became loud with the shock and panic her actions had incited.

She turned her head away as she blew out a smoke stream, contented by her results, “Yeah; figured there was a lot of good that could come from some well-placed incendiary packs. ”

A startled huff left her as his fist gripped her collar and he yanked her into his side.

His lips felt hot and soft as they pressed against hers. She basked in his approval.

“You continue to astound me, Angie.” David muttered against her mouth.

She kissed him back as she gripped his shoulders and cupped the back of his head. His hair was soft under her calloused hand.

“Good.” She muttered against him, “Now show me how much by making sure we get out of this fucking thing alive.”

Authors Note: Hey, thanks for reading my short! This one was inspired by the mech-fighting TTRPG: Lancer, by Tom Bloom and Miguel Lopez after my husband and I played a session.

I’m intending to have little scenes like this pop in every now and then if only to shake things up and provide some different pieces while I work on the longer pieces or serial novels.

If you enjoyed this one, please leave a comment, share, or subscribe so I’ll know to provide additional vignettes in the future!

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Good morning Mary,

Lily has been settling in well. Due to some new developments, I have some questions and am asking for additional support.

Everything I have indicates that she was homeschooled. Can you provide me any records that confirm she completed kindergarten? I need them for school enrollment so we can get her into one of the schools here.

Lily said she remembered taking a test at the beginning of last summer, so her grandmother may have already submitted something to the State.

Also, I did not expect her to come with an additional antiquated infestation.

I am requesting assistance in the form of some sort of ward so she has an easier time adjusting to her new home and lifestyle.

She’s six. She doesn’t need to be dealing with the arts anytime soon.

Finally, I need all medical records, including milestone vaccines, and any behavioral evaluations by her primary care provider and pediatrician.

They were not included in the initial packet of her records provided to me by Human Resources.

I appreciate all support you can give.

Respectfully,

Bernardo Russo

Barry

This wasn’t how Barry wanted Lily to meet his family.

He had planned on doing an introduction around week two or three. His hope being he had a handle on the kid, developed a mutual routine, and had scheduled times to meet the extended family.

Instead, now he could hear his Aunt Alessandra, Luna, and cousin Cassidy fuss over the little girl in his father’s kitchen. The child was nervous, but felt safe enough to be left with Luna after she reassured him she wouldn’t let anything happen to, or act up around, Lily.

Luna had cemented herself as an ally the moment he’d hung up from the irate call from his father. His old man had been less than impressed that he hadn’t responded immediately to his text.

He wasn’t surprised that the elder women had swarmed them as soon as they walked through the front door, but couldn’t shake the clench in his gut that made him uncomfortable with Lily being left alone with them to start with.

Magically speaking, he didn’t know how much control she had over what she could do. It had been Luna’s idea to bring her with. She had said it would’ve been suspicious if they both stayed at his house while he answered his father’s summons.

Particularly since Lily was now a known person within the family network, and his father already expected to meet her.

They both agreed there would be too many questions that would only continue to multiply if they didn’t start to address them.

Still.

He hated that it had to be here.

The two floor villa-style home had been the backdrop of many family gatherings and holidays. When his father had inherited it, he had been excited to run in the halls, explore every nook and cranny of the rooms, and secure himself many secret reading spots.

But now, it felt more like he was trapped in an iron-maiden.

He was stifled as he stood beside the fireplace and its rustic brickwork; painstakingly manufactured to be reminiscent of his great-great grandfather’s home back in Italy. He poked numbly at the burning wood within it with the fire poker, and watched as the logs cracked against the March cold outside before he shut the fire gate they laid behind.

His father’s voice rumbled around a cigar from somewhere behind him, “They were all police?”

The smoking room fell into a heavy silence as his uncles and cousins sat around the Don.

Enzo’s friendly demeanor had been lost in dark circles around his eyes and a pallor that had taken over him from the night’s events.

Enzo’s father, Uncle Giovanni, had an exhausted empty stare as he peered at the floor.

The older, equally large man who ran the shipping yard was deflated. His head bowed and his shoulders tucked in. The creases on his face particularly defined and the dark bags under his eyes were now a deep purple.

Their hands were rubbed raw from the clean up and they both stunk to the high heavens of bleach.

Uncle Gio grunted in confirmation, “Garnet Harbor’s.” He then murmured, “Boys found patches and badge numbers in the clean up. Ain’t seen anything like it, Antony.”

Uncle Ricky was unable to sit still as he occupied himself with the shelves that lined the far wall of the smoking room. He was making a point to pick through the multiple rows of outdated encyclopedias that had been part of Nonno Giuseppe’s legacy.

Meanwhile, Elio sat across from Barry’s father. Elio’s back was straight while he peered down at The Book on his lap. It was filled with handwritten calculations, shipping manifestos, and the holdings for many of the family’s businesses. His dark eyes flicked back and forth behind point dexter glasses as he wore a sweater vest of all things over a white button up and slacks while he reviewed the pages.

While Enzo was built like a bear, Elio was built more like a scarecrow. Barry thought that he had lucked out in that he hadn’t inherited the Russo’s bulk from Aunt Alessandra like his twin brother had.

That, and their blood connection to family were the two things they had in common.

Other than that, Barry was jealous that Elio always seemed to have his shit locked down tight.

Barry figured if there was anyone who had a shot at going legit, it was Elio, who with a wife and three kids, had the most to lose.

It was also why Barry thought the man was the stupidest mother fucker in the room, dumber than even Barry making his pact with Miss Annie.

Elio had a way out, but he never took it.

Which was also why Barry couldn’t help but respect the hell out of him.

There was nothing more important in their world than family.

So while Elio might be a stupid mother fucker, he kept his place at the table by being loyal to a fault.

“What’s our recovery timeline look like?” His father asked from around his cigar. A noxious plume made Barry itch for his own cigar ushered out with each word his father spoke. The gray smoke trailed up towards the ceiling that had once been a pristine white; but was now yellowed in familiar smokers stain.

His old man pulled the fat stogie from his mouth and exhaled another smoke stream, “how much of a hit did we take?”

Antony had graying dark brown hair and shrewd dark eyes under bushy brows. He had fattened with age, but still stood broad and tall. He spoke softly with a baritone roll in his tones that instilled a boom in his words. A signature of most Russo men.

He wore a white button up and a pair of slacks, dressed for comfort, but also for company as he hosted them in his home.

Elio’s somewhat nasally voice grated on Barry’s senses as it combined with the bubbling laughter that came up from the kitchen.

It felt like Lily was in a whole world away from the dour faces and circumstances he was entrenched in.

“Thankfully the majority of the shipment had been put on transport before the container was found and all trucks were able to move. So other than the wages for the cancellation of the day and the shipment we anticipated in the afternoon that had to be rerouted; once open again, we’ll recover any losses within a month or two.”

“Any heat?” Barry inquired in a grunt. His nerves tightened as his father gazed over his shoulder at him with a raised dark and gray speckled brow, but otherwise, nothing further was noted on his interjection.

It was his Uncle Ricky who responded, his tone a low rumble much like his father’s, “Averted for now. We’re using a maintenance issue story. Said the crane’s rendered the site unsafe until we can get a replacement part in.” Ricky stuck out like a sore thumb in a floral button up short-sleeve and slacks that were more akin to being on vacation than the mix of sweaters, button ups, and cold weather wear they had in the room.

He waved his hand at them, his old gold watch glinted in the low firelight as he continued, “Garnet Harbor’s started looking into personnel that have no-call no-showed, but there’s no chatter that has brought it down here… yet.” He shook his head. “They’ll start searching wider in the next few days when they realize there’s nothing out there. They’ll reach out to State Police next.”

“There were at least six people in there. That’s practically a third of their department.” Enzo’s voice was a rasp as he cupped his head in his hands, “It was like something tore them apart and had been eating them in there.”

“Fairytales. Keep your head about you, Enny.” Antony’s words were soft, but more of an order than any sort of encouragement, “Who do we know could do this?”

Barry swallowed down the urge to defend his younger cousin. He wasn’t about to make himself seem like a lunatic as he watched Enzo give a shaky nod with a deep breath.

Barry sucked on his teeth as he chose his next words carefully, “It’s been quiet. Northern wise, we’ve kept good relations in Quebec City and Montreal with Francesca’s crew. So she’s had nothing to complain about. The deal’s been too good for both of us.”

His tongue clicked the top of his lips in thought, “Besides that? Between here and there- the only person who would’ve taken issue was confirmed dead after faking it almost a week ago. So while the pre-arrival route definitely was interfered with; the parties we know lack a motivation. A knock to that shipment would fuck their own bottom line.”

The Don nodded before Uncle Ricky suggested, “Maybe the Russians? But, they’re always bitchy. There’s been no signal they’re going to move. Not to mention they’re smart. Their kids being in Saint Angela’s with ours keeps everyone playing nice. Also, the families out of New York and Boston aren’t exactly banking on Rose City for a new foothold. Too small.”

“Not to mention security’s heightened with customs enforcement on everyone’s ass.” Giovanni groaned as he leaned back and began to palm his pockets.

He unearthed a pack of Marlboro gold cigarettes. He offered one to Enzo who took it in a shaking hand, still rattled from the morning’s events as he continued, “So, doubt it’s anyone down coast. And even if it is- not even those twisted fucks in the fed got the stomach for well…” He glanced at Enzo, then lit his cigarette after Enzo gripped the death stick with his lips, “This.”

Giovanni shrugged, “Maybe cartel? But last I checked; they ain’t interested in having a hold this far north, and like Ricky said. We’re too small.”

“So we have no one.” Antony surmised flatly.

The group of men all quieted as he pulled the cigar back to his mouth and bit down on the end. He breathed in a heavy drag before he growled, “Somebody just chopped up six fuckin’ cops and threw them into one of our containers; and we’ve got no notion of even who?”

Barry felt his blood pressure rise as the familiar tenor and tone reminded him of an oncoming storm. His hand gripped the fire poker instinctively as he cast a wary eye to his father.

He doubted he was about to lash out at his inner circle, but Barry’s tongue rubbed against his teeth in a nervous tic as his throat tightened.

It was rare these days as the Don’s temper had wound down with age, but not unheard of.

It was Ricky who dared to speak in the face of his father’s potential ire, “Could be anything right now from a serial killer who’s taken issue, to a rival making a move, Antony.” His hands spread wide in a shrug, “But we know we didn’t do this, so we’ll have to figure out more as it develops.”

Barry spotted the subtle quake in Antony’s hand as he gripped the edge of his armchair, and the shift of his jaw as he rolled the cigar back and forth in his mouth.

The pensive silence in the wake of his uncle’s words was only interrupted by the crackling pop from the fire while his father thought it over.

Barry tried to ignore the memory of how many times he had seen his old man sit in that very same chair, and grip the edge of its arm like now. He was grateful the usual glass of scotch in his dad’s hand was absent.

It had become a staple item in his childhood after his mother had walked out on them.

The quiet was kept before the older mafioso broke it in a breath. “Then I want feet on the ground and ears on every wire we got. We need to figure out who did this before the situation upstate escalates to the Feds.” His tongue clicked before he turned his gaze to Gio and Enzo, “Where are the bodies now?”

“Gone.” Ricky answered instead, “Ash and pig shit.”

Antony nodded, “Good. That’s one thing taken care of then.” He sighed out another smoke cloud and slumped in his chair, “Enzo and Gio. Head home and rest up. Tomorrow, I want the crew organized to start running the streets. Catalogue the badges and the names; but otherwise, melt e’m down.” He pulled the cigar from his mouth and waved his hand to the other two, “Elio and Ricky, you two get things back in order; then start working channels. I want ears everywhere, so pull in Allie, Cass, and Luna if you gotta.”

His father then gave a long look his way.

Barry straightened as he gripped the iron poker and instinctively dug its cooled tip into the floor in a dent with in the floorboards. His chin raised as he waited for some sort of order; but his father’s tone changed to a quiet murmur as he waved off his uncles and cousins, “Otherwise, get out of here. Me and Barry need to have a chat.”

Barry caught the wince from Ricky, but the Consigliere’s lips only pressed together before he wandered around the back of the couch to rest his hand on his father’s shoulder. The rest of the men got to their feet.

“Go easy on him, An’ni.”

The Don didn’t miss a beat as he looked back at his younger brother, “Mind your own business, Rick.”

Ricky held his hands up, but sighed otherwise with a shake of his head as he moved to depart.

Barry watched as they filed out. His eyes caught Enzo’s.

He received a long look from the tired and shaken man that made him tilt his head. Barry considered for a moment, then grunted, “Hey Enny.” Enzo paused at the doorway, “Swing by tonight. I’ll have the whiskey waiting.”

Enzo didn’t respond at first, but Barry felt relief as his cousin nodded, then left. Elio hovered nearby before he gave Barry a thankful nod; he shut the smoking room’s large wooden double-doors behind him as he departed.

Antony popped the cigar back in his mouth and nudged the chair beside him, “Come sit down, kid.”

Barry couldn’t count the amount of times he had sat in the worn, leather chair across from his old man over the years.

He knew it was a ridiculously comfortable seat. The kind one sunk into the moment they leaned back and that it could cause them to quickly fall asleep. The leather was cracked and worn in areas from the many times someone had done just that.

But he was more familiar with the edge of it, either ready to jump to his feet, or dodge to the side.

Another reason he was glad his father didn’t have any crystalware in his hand at the moment. He blinked in surprise however as his father slid open the wooden box beside him and offered him a cigar.

The familiar maduro wrapper of it was firm in his grip as he grasped it. His old man pulled out a guillotine cigar cutter and cut the tip off. Followed by the offer of a lit match.

The ritual completed as Barry took a series of soft puffing sucks of the cigar as he held the tip in the offered flame.

The heat flared into his lungs.

Electricity hit his senses as he scratched that itch that gnawed at him in cravings over the past two days. He felt the back of his head at the base of his neck release and a pressure ease up from in between his ears.

The familiar buzz of tobacco sizzled over his brain and ran down his spine like muscle relaxers and caffeine were suddenly injected into his body.

He slumped into the chair and muffled a low groan.

Fuuuck, that’s good.

“You look like shit.” His old man muttered from around his stogie before he removed and ashed it. He moved the fine, crystal glass ashtray on the side table to in between them.

“Ain’t slept.” Barry retorted as he took another puff and then rested the cigar between his fingers. He looked at Antony as the weight of the past few days set on his shoulders, “Sorry I didn’t catch the text.”

He felt bad about it. He didn’t appreciate the yelling fit the older man had earlier, but he was more irritated with himself on the slip up.

Barry looked down at the cigar, “Had my hands full.”

That didn’t matter.

He was supposed to be there.

Antony grunted as he leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh, “Kids will do that.”

Barry caught the way his lip fought back a twitch upward. The slight glint in his father’s eyes as he peered at him like there was some unspoken joke.

Thankfully the man didn’t leave him in suspense for long as he jumped onto a different train of thought altogether, “I’m pissed you didn’t call me as soon as the State notified you, and that your cousin knew before I did.”

Because it wasn’t the State who told me shit. But Barry couldn’t say that to the old mob boss. Instead, he could only retort, “Enzo only found out because he’s nosy.”

Antony waved him off like this was nothing new, “Of course he’s nosy. Family’s always nosy. It’s what happens when you got people who love you.”

Barry took a puff of his cigar and gave a noncommittal grunt.

His father rolled his eyes, “But what was your plan, Baer? Were you just going to hide her and wait for a rainy day?”

He had him there.

“Something like that.” His dad looked at him like he grew a second head. But Barry tracked the tell, and kept from falling into the trap of trying to defend his actions. He shrugged, “Didn’t exactly have a… ideal way, to bring up finding out the news about Bella. Everything happened lightening fast.”

He caught the familiar way his father clenched on his cigar. Another tell that some sort of deeper thought was occurring behind the sharp, brown eyes of the aged man. Barry watched as his forehead creased as he thought it over, his cigar twitched from one side of his mouth to the other, before Antony finally pulled it from his mouth.

He turned his head away to let out another steady stream of smoke, and ashed it once more on the crystal ashtray, “Why not?” His dad asked, “What did you think I was gonna do when I found out?”

Blame me for the whole fucking thing. It sounded childish and dumb to Barry even as he thought it.

He quickly grew annoyed with himself.

He winced as the conflict brewed in his stomach and he held his cigar between both of his hands. The heat of the lit end warmed the skin between his thumb and finger beneath his glove, before he gave a heavy shrug and took another puff off the filter end, “Aside from accuse me of knowing about Bella? Nothin’ good about the kid.”

“Did you know?”

Barry was too tired to critically decipher if he was walking on thin ice here, or if his dad was just genuinely curious.

He looked him over as Antony impassively watched him, before Barry shook his head. “Nah. Knew we never found the body; but didn’t know if she actually, you know- made it.” He leaned back in his chair, “Didn’t have any contact or anything like that. As far as I can tell- she went underground and off-grid.”

“So you’re looking into it?”

“I am.” Barry confirmed, “Ain’t sure what got her, yet. But whatever did rendered Lily mute.” He settled the cigar back in his mouth. “Ways CPS put it, she went nonverbal after the 911 call once she found Bella dead. Luna’s helping me find a shrink, Enzo’s given me the word on parenting courses that might help.”

The fact Antony didn’t comment should have made Barry pause, but he embraced the hot smoke instead as he shut his eyes in the quiet.

His father just continued to stare at him once he opened them.

“What?” He asked, before Antony shook his head.

“I ain’t a monster, Barry.” His dad sighed, “You really think I was gonna just gank some little girl who just lost the last of her family?”

“The same family you wiped off the map?” Barry retorted, and his gut clenched at the way his old man scowled, “Yeah, Pops. Why wouldn’t I?”

Antony said nothing as he appeared stricken for a moment, before he deflated. He sighed and rubbed his face. His hand slid down to cover his mouth as they surveyed each other.

With a breath, he got to his feet and left his cigar on the ashtray.

Barry watched as his father moved to the fireplace and picked up the poker. He wrenched open the fire gate and adjusted the logs, before he added another.

He shut the gate but continued to stare at the flames.

Barry could recall when he was tall and his back was so broad, his shoulders seemed strong enough to carry the world, the family, and there was nothing his dad couldn’t do.

Now, they almost seemed like time had battered them to curve and hunch. Now 65, Barry felt his heart wrench at the signs that time was catching up to Antony; and his presence had begun to show his age.

“I deserve that.” He admitted in a smokers rasp, “And I don’t expect you to understand. The Costas were good to us.”

“But?” Barry prompted, and the old mobster shook his head.

“But they were growing steadily unstable and becoming a problem.” Antony sighed.

He reached up and leaned against the mantle, then gazed over his shoulder to Barry as he continued, “We tried to settle it with them in the months leading up to it. But Don Costa was starting to become irrational. He believed in some… unconventional practices.” He glanced away, “Fringe rituals. The Costa family, unfortunately, bought into it. Started talking about demons and shit.”

“You’re bullshitting me.” Barry pushed to his feet, his own cigar forgotten on the ashtray as he padded towards the fireplace. He came to lean on the side of it as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “So they got kooky and you decided, what- that was it? They were cooked?”

Antony shook his head. “Of course not. Don’t be a shithead.” Barry bristled but held his tongue. He had lost count throughout his childhood the amount of times the older man had said those exact words.

“Don’t be a shithead, Barry. Call your mother.”

“Don’t be a shithead, help nonna get her bags upstairs.”

“Don’t be a shithead-“ He tore himself out of the stream of rising blood pressure once more, and inhaled deeply.

Antony caught his gaze again before his father winced.

Barry remained silent as he waited for him to continue with a clenched jaw and an impatient brow raised.

His father instead actually chuckled, “You’ve always had my temper.”

“You’ve always given me your temper.” Barry accused, and his father shook his head.

“Maybe. But despite my flawed parenting, you still turned out alright.” Antony tilted his head towards the double-doors in reference, “You’ll get it once you get in the groove with your own kid.”

Barry couldn’t identify the emotion that welled up in his chest and made his throat clamp shut with the want to vomit at the same time.

He’d… get it?

He felt that familiar itch that often ended their conversations in a yelling match over the years, rather than any sort of civil conclusion.

He swallowed it down and decided to just ignore the comment, “So, fringe beliefs?”

Antony smirked like he just won an argument they weren’t having, and continued, “Right. Fringe beliefs.”

He took a heavy breath and then continued, “If the Costas had just kept to themselves about their weird bullshit, nothing would’ve happened. Drove potential partners away, but it gave us the foothold we got in Saint Angelas and the network… so even folks like that got a purpose.”

Then Antony shook his head again, “But it escalated. Some real cult bullshit, like what white-bread America thought the Satanic Panic was really about.” He turned to Barry and crossed his arms.

Half his face was lit up by the fire light, and the other half was caught in the shadow of the otherwise dark room, “It started to get the wrong attention. The church and parish network raised concerns and were considering a higher reach out. Then we started catching downwind that the city cops had reached out to the State and some anti-cult agents from the feds were starting to come out of the woodwork. They didn’t have all the pieces yet; but a full cult investigation would’ve fucked us all.”

Barry winced. He could see where this was going.

“How the hell did we dodge further attention if all that heat was stirring up?” He breathed, “Also, Don Costa couldn’t see any reason?”

Antony grimaced and began to retreat back to his chair. He retrieved his cigar and took a puff once he fell heavily back down in his seat, “We tried a couple days before the hit, but there was no reasoning with that guy by the time it all came down.” He blew out another stream of smoke and shrugged, “By the time it was done though, no one, and I really do mean no one, missed the Costas. They had become a problem to the families, the church, and the community.”

He sucked his teeth, “the way I see it is, only issue that they left was that we didn’t discuss why it all came down that way sooner. But beyond that.” Antony looked over his shoulder to him and grunted, “Well, the community saw the loss as a real service. The new power balance was good for everyone; from neighborhoods and businesses to the parish.”

“Is that why no one asked any questions? How’d we dodge the heat?”

Antony smiled, “People don’t pay attention to shit that helps them directly out, Baer. You bring peace to their world; and they’re usually gonna go along with it.” He chuckled as he bit down on his cigar in a wide grin, “Happy to eat the sausage without a damn care of how it was made. The cops fussed for a year or two; but the community and church were just as happy to sweep the mess Don Costa caused under the rug; and as we cemented our position, they considered the new management an upgrade.”

He waved his hand back to Barry’s chair in a gesture to sit back down after he pulled the cigar from his mouth and ashed it, “Never underestimate the complacency of a well-satisfied customer.”

Barry retreated and fell back into the chair. He mouthed his cigar and tongued the edge as he took a slow drag and his father leaned forward, the stogie settled in between his fingers as he set his hand on his knees.

“Now.” Antony changed the subject, “You tell me all about Bella Costa’s granddaughter.” He leaned back in his chair to get comfortable, “And don’t leave anything out. As far as I’m concerned, she’s part of the family now, and I finally get to be Nonno Russo.”

Chapter Six, Part Two

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Barry

“Oh you look positively awful.”

Luna was polite enough to take off her neon blue sneakers and leave them by the other shoes on the rubber mat in his foyer. She hung up her coat the moment she cleared the doorway.

She had foregone any makeup or ceremony so he caught the dark shadows under her eyes from late nights of doing who knows what.

A wave of peppermint perfume flowed from her in place of her usual lavender.

It woke Barry up more than any caffeine was capable of.

Pins and needles tingled through his scalp as he spotted something beneath the white box of donuts; a large black bag with two crescent moons in opposite directions and a full moon in the center that hung off her arm. With the removal of her coat, her jump suit revealed a short sleeved top.

He caught the rare visage of bare skin inked with old Celtic runes and bold black and dark blue designs that were integrated into well-cared for tattoo sleeves upon her arms.

A reminder of the days when she rode a motorcycle and was Luna Murphy, rather than Luna Russo.

She had always been his Aunt, so he never dwelled on them beyond the idle tracing of them that she had allowed when he was a child. She kept them covered during most family gatherings, and much like his left hand, they were an unspoken family taboo.

She smiled up at him as she offered him the box of donuts, “I told you something exciting was about to happen. And to think! It even snapped my wishbone.”

He slowly took the box as he eyed her. It was warm in his hands as he struggled with the words that worked their way out of his throat, “How did you know?” He managed, “How do you always know?”

A low laugh echoed from the woman as she looked him up and down then intertwined her fingers. Multiple rings donned them today, some a little bulbous than others with a clasp to indicate they were hollow inside. They clinked as they touched.

She took a step beside him to gently pat him on the chest and brush imaginary dust from his shoulders. Her nails gently scraped along the fabric of his nightshirt.

“Oh my Scary Barry.” She sighed.

She hadn’t called him that since he was a kid.

The peppermint perforated his senses and sent an additional tingle down his spine. Tension left his shoulders and jaw like it was being pulled from him as he peered at her and breathed in deep.

His shoulders felt lighter as he wondered, what is she doing?

She took the box back from him and waved him off, “Go shower and get the sleep out of your eyes. We’ll talk over coffee and donuts once you’re awake.”

For once, Barry didn’t argue.

… After the hot water woke him up and he made himself presentable, he found Luna paging through one of the books on his table.

The smell of good coffee overpowered the peppermint perfume she wore as he noted she had unearthed his old coffee pot and started a pot.

The box of donuts set beside it to show an assortment in a baker’s dozen. His mouth water as he eyed a chocolate donut topped with marshmallows. He didn’t hesitate as he grabbed a napkin and helped himself.

It was just barely warm, but the first bite of chocolate, sugar and pastry made him nearly moan in ecstasy as it flooded his senses.

The combination of the bitter bite of coffee to chase it down made Barry wonder in his sleep deprived state if he had found nirvana.

Surely, it couldn’t exist in a simple box of donuts. But since magic was real and his tattooed Aunt stood just feet away, reading what seemed to be an old kid’s journal while holding a small pamphlet of stickers…

Well, there was nothing to say that he couldn’t have a religious experience at the threshold of a donut box.

Luna’s voice dragged him out of silent prayer at his cardboard altar of sugar, “So, how long do you think Bella was in Garnet Harbor?”

He took another heavy drink from the Ethiopian coffee she brewed to swallow down his final demolishment of the donut, “Pardon?”

Luna gazed up over her spectacles at him, “How long do you think she was up there? It appears she and Lily were living in a home; Lily’s journals talk about playing in the yard and tag with shadows in the house.”

“Haven’t had a moment to ask Mary.” He muttered. “Was going to yesterday once I realized I needed some background on the kid-“

“Lily.” Luna corrected.

Barry paused, a small frown fell across his face as his Aunt stood straight and waved her hand, “Saying ‘the kid’ is objectifying at best. She’s a person, even if little. Use Lily.”

He winced, then took a smaller sip of his coffee, “She is a kid, though?”

Luna nodded, “Yes. But she’s your responsibility now, and that responsibility has a name. Lily. So- get used to saying it.”

Barry inhaled deeply and then continued tightly, “I needed background on Lily when I realized looking at this stuff I had a lot more questions than answers.”

Luna surveyed the table once more. A soft squeak left her as she flattened her lips and sucked on her teeth, “Do you think perhaps Bella raised her in isolation?”

He responded a little too quickly, unable to temper his voice, “What makes you say that?”

“Because it’s clear Lily spent more time at home than out, and is magical.”

Barry froze.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

They couldn’t be having this conversation.

He wanted to know, but they couldn’t be having this conversation.

He could already imagine the tingle in his left hand. The weight of Miss Annie’s gaze and that horrid, black open mouth as she would whisper to him to do the unthinkable.

The unfathomable.

He feared the slick, syrupy feeling of blood that would be the aftermath. The heat of it as it would wash over his hands and face. And the frigid existence he’d be left in as he murdered the very thing that kept him from being dead inside.

The Family could not be put at risk.

“You can’t know that.”

He had only meant to think it, but the words forced their way out of him, “You just got here. You can’t possibly know that.”

Luna’s lips stretched downward and she moved closer.

He tucked to his counter, his hands clenched on his mug in a white knuckle grip as she cupped his face.

“Barry, love.” She told him quietly, “Breathe.”

He forced a slow inhale as he was trapped under her gaze.

The peppermint made him feel lightheaded now.

Luna’s thumbs stroked his cheekbones and she smiled. Her eyes curved as she chuckled, “I’m sorry to say, sweetheart, I’ve known there’s been magic in this world a lot longer than you’ve been alive.” She reached past him and tapped the box of donuts with her knuckle.

He turned to the box and the sinking feeling in his stomach turned into a depth charged plummet.

Had she bewitched the food?

He turned his gaze back to her and her hands dropped to her side, “Apologies nephew, but a ‘speak before you think’ cantrip to make sure we stayed on the right footing, seemed for the best.”

The bottom of the dread in his stomach met the instant lava flow of rage as he scowled, “you tricked me?”

She didn’t move away or cower. Auntie Luna instead gave him a nod like this was the most obvious thing in the world, “Of course. How else would we be able to talk about the very thing society has never meant for those to speak of?”

Auntie Luna spread her arms in a shrug. She tilted her head and the beads on her glasses clacked as they collided with her earrings, “The world’s greatest secret takes a little intention to speak casually on.”

“Absolutely fucking vile.” Another thought that left his mouth before he could stop it. He bore his teeth, “You’ve no right!”

His Aunt however smiled widely as a low chuckle left her, “I have known you since you were a wee babe. I’ve every right, Scary Barry.”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not a child anymore!” Barry spat as he set his mug down beside him in a slam. The brew splashed everywhere on his counter, “I thought you were coming to help, not pull bullshit on me.”

He hated how the vitriol left him unwarranted. The heedless venom that coiled and struck unmitigated from his tongue.

The way his Aunt only continued to smile at him like he was a petulant child throwing a tantrum just like when he was still young; and how calmly she was as she grabbed a napkin and began to clean up the spill around his mug.

An absolute bulwark against any escalation, and unwelcome abnormality to the cacophony of voices that typically shook the walls between he and his father.

“I am helping.” She rolled her eyes in a sideways glance at him, “You are a creature of habit, Barry. Did you expect me to not ensure we could speak freely after two decades of watching you fuck about?”

She tossed the soiled napkin in the trash, “There should be no unspoken words between family. Now. There won’t be.”

Once more, she smiled at him, “At least it’s not the ‘truth only’ hex. This one, you can lie all you want.” She poked him in the forehead and the counter stopped him from being able to dodge her touch, “Not that it’ll matter. I’ve a penchant for knowing lies.”

“You’re fucking terrible, and terrifying.” Barry growled. His shoulders rose to his ears as he leaned forward to continue, but his aunt leaned right back into his face and cut him off.

“That’s a compliment in this family, love.” She told him lowly, another giggle on her breath, “But now we’ve ripped the bandaid off, and can have a real conversation.”

“Everyone’s out to fuck me over. Even you.” Barry complained as he turned away and began to refill his mug from the liquid loss in his rage.

His aunt said nothing as she stepped away and moved back towards his dining room table.

He shut his eyes as he tried to reign in his temper, but the onslaught was louder in his head than any thought had a right to be,

He snarled, “I’m in over my head and everyone keeps kicking the shit out of me!”

A soft hum left his aunt and he turned to see her settle at the head of his table.

He finished filling his mug as she drummed her fingers.

He moved to the table and fell heavily into a seat beside her. The ire in his body put a warmth in his belly that kept a glower seared onto his face.

Luna peered indifferently at him.

“What?” He growled, and she smiled kindly again in the face of his temper.

“It’s good you’re getting this out.” His aunt told him gently, “It’d be bad if Lily see’s you in this sort of snit.”

“Oh fuck you.” He retorted, before he leaned back in his seat, “If you didn’t want this, you shouldn’t have put magic on the damn food to start.”

His blow was returned back with another chuckle, “I absolutely wanted to see this. Tell me.” Luna prompted coyly, “Do you know what you have from that thing that’s got its claws in you?”

He froze again, words dead in his throat.

The heat from his mug the only thing that fought back the wave of icy terror she renewed.

“Don’t ask.” He pleaded in a whisper. “Please don’t ask, Luna.”

She evaluated him like he was on a rubric he was never given the syllabus for.

Under it, he struggled for a foothold in this conversation or a rebuff to prevent himself from falling deeper into the dangerous territory they had found themselves in. He found it as he broke their staring contest first.

“How do you know?” He breathed his question from before, and her scrutinized gaze broke into a grin.

“Well.” She gestured to herself, “As a young girl, I started by chasing a feeling. Like the tension that builds up when you ride a rollercoaster before the first drop, or the low notes of a bridge before the final crescendo is played by the orchestra. It established a connection to it. More came with practice.”

“So what is it?” Barry grunted, “Magic is just what? A skill? What was the wishbone?”

“Protective repel spell.” Luna sniffed, “And oh no, but also yes- in a sense.” Luna shook her head, “I think for all the magic practitioners I’ve met, it’s as individual as their views of it. No one can agree. So it’s hardly defined by committee. Some find it a spiritual, or supernatural occurrence.” Her stooped form shrugged, “But the one thing we can confirm is it exists, and it doesn’t want everyone knowing about it.”

He scowled. A soft throb began in his head from how hard his jaw clenched as he breathed, “And what do you call it?”

“Damn good predictions and luck.” Luna snickered, “And for you, absolutely shoddy glamours.” Her head tilted, “Those burgers were some of the most burnt I’ve ever tasted. It was absolutely lucky that I brought my roasted red peppers to make up for it.”

He grimaced, “The rest of the family liked them.”

Luna nodded, “The rest of the family can’t see through your terrible cooking and bullshit. Or if they can, they’re not willing to address it.” She grasped his hand. Her expression warmed as she smiled at him. “I am.”

“I have half the mind to throw you out on your ass.” Barry pulled his hand from her grip and crossed his arms on the dining room table as he scowled. He glowered over the now organized mountain of Lily’s things. Sugar and caffeine buzzed in his brain with the irate energy his aunt instigated.

Luna shrugged, undeterred and unbothered, “What’s a family without its’ fights? T’wouldn’t be the first time, and won’t be the last.” She squared up to him with a small smirk, “The better question is: are you going too, Bernardo?”

His response came out in a scoff. His tones drenched with the same authority as a Sunday sermon by a fire and brimstone preacher, “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course not. Being a pain in my ass is clearly part of your charm.”

Luna gave a low cackle into her mug. He peered at it queerly as he spotted the tell tale signs of a tea bag that hung out of it as she told him, “That, dear Nephew, we agree on.”

He looked at the half eaten donut beside her as she drank, “That work on you like it does on me?”

Auntie Luna’s head bobbed in confirmation, “Yes. But unlike you, sweetheart. I’ve never been shy about speaking my mind.”

It was the most honest words they had ever exchanged in 39 years.

Lily

Lily woke with a start. Her breath caught in her throat as the remnants of The Wolf’s snarl and teeth made her body hot with fear and sudden adrenaline.

Her gaze darted around the space from beneath a pile of stuffed animals that had built up around her throughout the night.

A shaky breath quaked her body as she clung tightly to Mr. Fox, who reminded her they were safe, and The Wolf in Garnet Harbor couldn’t possibly get to them in Rose City.

She tried to remember where she was, as the room looked foreign to the one at Miss Mary’s house.

Mr. Fox reminded her gently they were at Mister Barry’s.

She looked down at where he had gotten trapped beneath her in her sleep.

A heavy swallow left her as he reassured her that they were safe, and this was her room.

She peeked out from beneath Rosie who had propped on top of her head. The cool air of the bedroom met her forehead and soothed how warm she’d become.

She began to dig herself out.

The bed’s covers were a mess, pulled from the edges of the massive mattress. She tiredly looked from the epicenter of her plush fortress that crumbled apart. Stuffed animals fell to the side and rolled onto the floor from the movement.

She sat up on her hands and knees as she took a deep breath.

The faint smell of coffee filled her nose and she grimaced at the familiar acrid scent. Granny had let her try her coffee once, before she had added any ‘special milk’ to it.

It had tasted bitter and gross.

She didn’t get why the adults always seemed to like it.

She was pulled from her thoughts though as she caught additional voices. One was the familiar rumble of Mister Barry’s, and the other was a… lady?

She held her breath as she listened hard for a moment. The stranger’s voice was faint, but just high enough she could pick up some of the words.

“…not really so simple as to be identified and classified… feels more like energies… buzz I can pick up on and when I listen hard enough, sometimes it tells me things. How does it feel to you?”

Mister Barry’s familiar rumble was loud enough to reach the crack in Lily’s door once she slid off the bed and crept closer to it, “Usually like a dog I got cooped up that wants to run rampant. It feels… sentient? Like it’s got a mind of its own, and I’m just holding the leash to keep it to heel.”

Lily looked around the hall as she opened the door slowly as to not cause it to creak.

Were they talking about pets? Or animals? She had never gotten to play with a pet before.

Granny didn’t like the police dogs being near, and said it was too much work to have an animal while she was so little.

She looked over her shoulder to her friends, and paused as they watched back. She winced. She wasn’t nearly awake enough to try and introduce them all right now.

So this was a spy mission she would need to do by herself.

Wish me luck! She told them as she gave them a salute. She kept her hand stiff and arm bent as technically right as she thought she could, like she watched in the movies.

They all did so in a myriad of voices with their unblinking plastic eyes and permanently sewn on smiles.

Lily smiled back, thoroughly encouraged, before she crept into the hallway and began for the stairs.

She could hear the adults a little clearer once she came to a crouch above the top step. The shadows trailed after her and drew close to her like they were also listening in.

She gave a ‘stinky eye’ to the first stair that she knew would tell on her if she stepped on it.

That would teach it to not be a tattle-tale!

Mister Barry’s voice carried up the stairs like it was as natural as the paint on the walls or the hung frames.

“Do Dad and Uncle Ricky know?”

The lady’s voice tickled Lily’s ears as she gave a soft laugh.

It was an older voice and higher pitched. But it wasn’t like Granny’s scratchy voice she had grown used too, “Your father would sooner stab out his own eyes than discuss ‘such blasphemy.’ So no.”

She sighed, “Ricardo doesn’t have enough inborn talent to find his connection and identify it, but he acknowledges there’s ‘something.’”

Her voice softened, “I think it’s because the talent he has, has been poured into his luck and his business. He’s phenomenal at herbs though. I cannot tell you the amount of plants we’ve been able to start because of his knack for identification and rooting from clippings.”

A low chuckle left Barry, “Is that what’s led to the children’s garden?”

A hum left the lady, and Lily tried to lean a little over the top stair to see if she could get a peek between the railings to see what the stranger looked like.

She loved gardening. There was a children’s garden?

Was it just for children?

Or was it for growing children?

Questions clouded her mind as she struggled to look.

The wall that separated the living room from the kitchen and the dining room blocked her view.

She would have to move. With a glance at the shadows, she mumbled to them, can you please help make it so they don’t hear me?

They couldn’t nod, but she felt the shadows confirm they could as they quickly surrounded her feet.

Lily smiled as they tickled their way beneath her toes and wrapped around her ankles.

She took another step.

Her smile bloomed into a grin as she no longer made any noise.

She tucked close to the wall as she crept down the stairs. She moved slow as to not draw attention and made sure her footing was careful and specific. By the time she was on the final step, not a single adult had spotted her.

Her chest swelled proudly with pride. She had just pulled off the same feats as the spies did in the movies.

She quickly dashed across the living room to tuck to the side of the wall just before the archway into the kitchen and dining room as she peered to see Mister Barry’s back to her and at the top of his dining room table; the bluest woman she had ever seen.

The older lady wore an outfit like from the disco album covers Granny liked to listen too and just as many shiny gold necklaces. She had hair that reminded her of pennies and eyes so green, they matched Mister Barry’s bedroom walls and plants.

Her lips were pulled back into a smile as she said with a shake of her head, “No. It came up from an argument Cassidy started over the lack of agricultural literacy at Saint Angela Catholic School’s PTA meeting. Now we’re in discussion with the school and the Parish social network on location and curriculum for a spring and summer program.”

The lady gave a shrug, “I think the PTA likes the idea of keeping the kids out of their parent’s hair for a few hours through the weeks then.”

Lily wasn’t sure exactly what Mister Barry’s friend was talking about, but she watched the back of his head bob in a nod.

She looked back to the lady, only to freeze when she noticed she had been caught.

A soft smile was on the older lady’s face as their gazes met, before her eyes trailed towards Lily’s feet.

Where the shadows still remained wrapped around her feet like socks.

Lily gasped and tucked back against the wall.

She hid from sight as the stranger greeted, “Good morning, Lily.”

She heard the creak of a chair and glanced up to see Mister Barry had leaned backwards to balance on the back legs of his chair so his body hung out of the dining room. Now able to see her.

He looked down at her feet.

His eyes had dark circles around them that reminded her of a raccoon.

Lily also looked back down at her feet, only to startle as the shadows quickly fled from her to the dark spot beneath the couch; they skittered away as quickly as bugs that had a light shined on them.

“Heh, pesky busybodies.” The blue lady stated.

Mister Barry hummed with a nod.

“Morning kiddo.” He stated.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the stranger give Barry a mean look.

Lily squinted at that, but peered back to Mister Barry as he set his chair legs back on the ground, “Sleep well?”

Her mouth opened, then shut, before she scrunched her mouth in thought.

The Wolf gave a low snarl in her mind and she grimaced as she shook her head.

“Ah, well. That’s too bad.” Mister Barry sighed. He tilted his head towards the table, “Wanna tell us about it?”

Again she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She winced as she struggled to think of a way to describe what happened. To tell him.

The way The Wolf broke in, its’ stinky hot breath on her face and the way it trapped her in her room. She remembered the smell of the blood; and how cold the house had been in her dream.

Her body began to shake as she looked around, then back to him. She frantically shook her head again.

The old lady got up and Lily nearly backed away as the stranger extended a hand to her, “Lily.”

Her voice was friendly and the mean look she had given Mister Barry had disappeared, “Would you like a donut, sweetie?”

Everything stopped as the question pushed its way past the fear.

Donuts?

Shy excitement tickled the bottom of her tummy and she looked at the hand, before she checked with Mister Barry who didn’t seem as tired now.

He had sat up straighter and looked like he was about to get up.

He watched the old lady and said nothing, before he nodded to Lily. “Lily, this is Auntie Luna. She brought us donuts and coffee.” He squinted though at Luna now, a frown appeared on his lips, “Are the donuts safe for children, Luna?”

Lily liked that the stranger smiled like she thought something Mister Barry said was super funny.

Of course donuts were safe.

They were donuts.

“Of course, Barry. Children usually don’t have issues speaking their minds.”

Lily didn’t understand what that meant, but as Mister Barry gave a the lady a mean look back and a nod, she took Auntie Luna’s hand to go into the kitchen.

Barry

It was quaint to have both his Aunt and Lily eating donuts at his table before 11 AM.

Luna drank her tea while the little girl carefully handled a child-size pink plastic cup of milk.

One of the many items Enzo had delivered the day before.

An assortment of snacks, cereal, themed bandaids, children’s dishes, soaps with tearless formulas, and toys had all been part of the three large boxes his cousin had wheeled over on a dolly that he had unloaded beside Barry’s couch like little treasure chest for his new charge.

They had unpacked it together before he had passed out with the knowledge the kid was over the moon for dinosaurs, foxes, trains, and sea creatures.

He was partially surprised that his cousin hadn’t pushed his way back into his home again this morning yet.

Perhaps Luna had called ahead, and warned off Enzo.

If so, he was grateful.

His head was likely to detonate if he had to parry both the mystical, mayhem-adjacent Aunt and protective Funcle in the same room for more than ten seconds.

It also made him silently chuckle at the thought of the small, older flamingo hen-pecking the big bastard like the chickens she kept out at her home.

A feeling released in his chest as his Aunt unearthed crayons, colored pencils, and a blank sketchbook that she turned towards Lily with a smile. It was like a balm had snuffed out his ire from her trickery earlier and his nascent headache disappeared as he observed Lily light up in excitement.

She practically buzzed with energy (or maybe that was the start of a sugar rush?) as she held the book and the drawing implements.

A wide grin broke out on her freckled face as she looked back to Auntie Luna.

The older woman returned the smile with a mischievous glint in her eye, “A little shadow puppet told me someone asked for coloring supplies.” She murmured conspiratorially.

The magic stirred at the fringes of his senses and Barry glanced to the couch to catch that flicker of darkness that seemed to be the sentient shadows that hid beneath.

Luna followed his gaze, and they exchanged a quick look before they both turned their attention back to Lily.

They would discuss what that meant, later.

The little girl stared at the old woman who quickly smiled back.

Lily had the same look she had given Barry the day before when he had asked about the shadows; her mouth partially open with wide eyes, and a slight curve of a smile teased at the corners of her lips.

Luna’s peppermint smell returned. It was heavier than the warm, homely scents of coffee that he enjoyed.

Pins and needles ran back down his spine as his Aunt gave an encouraging smile back.

The magic pushed against his will and tugged on its leash. He rebutted it with a quick yank and grimace.

He wondered why he didn’t sense her weaving magic before. Was it just because he knew about it now, and didn’t doubt it?

His aunt then stated softly, “Can you write, Lily?”

Lily quickly nodded, and Luna chuckled.

She waved a hand towards the schoolbooks that piled at the edge of the table. “Excellent. Can you tell me about the school work your Grandmother was teaching you?”

Again, the little girl enthusiastically nodded, and Barry felt relief for the first time all week.

With no further prompting, Lily quickly dove in, her hands pulled the sketchbook open and he watched as a pink crayon began to write crude letters across the blank page.

He felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket, but ignored it as the kid began to tell them her story.

Earlier that Morning

Rose City Port
Pompei Mechanics and Co. Shipping Yard

Giovanni Pompei checked his watch for the umpteenth time since they had passed the 3:45 AM mark. The cigarette in his mouth a bitter and acrid bite that he should have given up over four decades ago, but couldn’t seem to help himself tonight.

The burn in his lungs kept him alert and awake.

Smoke wispily floated up and out of his cracked window as he stared out into the dark night. He listened to the Thorn river as it lapped against the banks and port docks.

It was a new moon tonight. The open mouth of the river that dumped into the Atlantic was a wide abyss that stretched as far as the eye could see; only to meet the horizon and a city-light polluted sky.

He grimaced as he took a drag from behind his windshield as he couldn’t help the acid that churned in his stomach with nerves.

The freighter had arrived late; the unload had taken too long, and now they were under the gun to move product before sun up when the first morning crew arrived.

He was certain they could do it, the Pompei family was a well-oiled machine. They’d been running arms shipments around and out of Rose City since the Costas ruled the roost.

But his brother-in-law would be a right pain in the ass if they didn’t clear out of here by the time the morning shift showed.

Antony’s shipping schedule had run on one schedule and one schedule only since Don Giuseppe had passed. His.

There was a very little allowance for error since a whole segment of the business could be at risk if they botched it.

Relief passed him as he heard the quick, heavy steps of another individual moving closer to the car. He looked to see Enzo at a full sprint as he came near.

He skidded as he tried to halt momentum on the iced over gravel of the dock yard, gasping for breath as he reached Giovanni’s driver’s side door and managed to come to a stop once he grabbed the side of the car.

“Dad.” He gasped.

Alarm bells went off in Gio’s head almost immediately as in the dock light. His son looked as pale as a ghost.

He unlocked the car immediately as the younger man croaked “Dad, it’s bad.”

“What happened- what’s wrong?” Giovanni was already out of the car before Enzo could speak.

He reached for his holstered handgun sewn into his coat. He scanned the large stacked freight skyscrapers that surrounded them for danger as his son grabbed his hand before he could grip the gun.

“N-no. Come see. Come see.” Enzo panted, “Leave the car. No tire tracks.”

Giovanni’s mind raced as he followed his son into the tall alleys the shipping yard created. He unholstered his .40 Smith & Wesson anyways, just in case the situation escalated.

The yellow light of the lamps colored their way as his son navigated them through the maze they had traversed since he was a boy, and to the docks where multiple shipping containers had been offloaded and their shipments distributed for disbursement.

They blew past a final truck in idle as they rounded the corner to see the stern of the freighter and the loading crane now inactive.

The heavy scent of blood and rot engulfed them in a rusty, sickly sweet miasma that Giovanni gagged on.

His cigarette dropped from his mouth entirely.

Members of the Pompei family cowered away from the open container as Enzo hunched on his knees and retched.

He rose a shaking finger towards the open front of the final cargo container, “Show Him!”

A flashlight flipped on and Giovanni’s brain stuttered to function as he took in the metal container’s red splattered interior.

He tried to comprehend what he was seeing as he realized the misshapen lumps and bulbs that littered the floor were sanguine covered limbs, torsos, and heads.

Entrails hung down from wide gouges made in the boxes and rough cut flesh was pitted with what looked like teeth marks and tears.

He looked at his son, to make sure this moment was real as Enzo lost the contents of his stomach to the side, before he looked back and saw the carnage still very much present.

The silence of his family around him was only interrupted by the loud lapping of waves as he tried to find his voice.

“Where-“ He began, and he swallowed down spit and air to renew the grate of his own vocal cords against his smoke dried throat, “Where did this one load up?”

Enzo didn’t respond at a moment as he coughed out bile and phlegm, his beard ruined in the muck as he managed, “Canada, then Upstate. Garnet Harbor.”

The pregnant silence was only amplified by Giovanni’s brain while it pounded against his skull and tried to make sense of the mess they had just found themselves in.

“Get Antony on the phone.” He managed, “He needs to know immediately.”

“What about Barry?” Enzo retorted.

Giovanni shook his head, “No. Antony first. He can bring him in later.”

His nephew was distracted and they all knew why.

Enzo nodded. He yanked out his phone and began to dial his uncle immediately.

Neither man caught the sound of a Wolf’s howl over the wind as it rushed through the twists and turns of the freight walls; or the proud growl of the beast that echoed up against the shipping containers as it prowled towards Rose City.

Continue to Chapter Six, Part One

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At the beginning of May, the old job asked those of us eliminated if we would return to a lesser appointment after the extensive disruptions we experienced.

I have a letter I wrote to myself and a note to check it six months in from the moment I decided to not go back, and take the leap of faith to see where we’ve landed.

After I declined the offer, I then promptly doubled-down by starting this Substack mere days later, after a conversation with my Dad.

This past Saturday - we hit 100 Subscribers, and I am absolutely flabbergasted by the progress made.

Thank you so much for what you’ve given me thus far as readers and a community, both in and outside of this newsletter.

Sometimes, I lose track of the days as I grab hold and let the drive feed my desires. Words and applications come easily. I don’t feel upset by everything that happened; and I feel like I can confidently keep moving forward.

Other days, it feels like it’s just been a very long extended weekend since I was laid off, and I wonder if I just threw myself into free fall by walking away.

Whilst muttering “Career Pivoting is difficult.” Followed by tossing my applications into the void of a turbulent job market for the fiftieth time.

We’re at 53 jobs applied to, 14 rejections, two position eliminations, and two interviews!

But I stay positive most days; simply because what is meant to work out, will work out, and what isn’t for me, will pass me by.

That’s the whole point of what I’m doing now.

I’m just figuring it out.

Which is honestly nice to have in this day of corporation after corporation offering opportunities to figure it out for you- for the right price.

But the only way to land where you want is to sometimes say “to hell with it,” accept the cliff, and take the dive.

Life’s too short to do nothing.

Because one day I’ll be dead.

And I think I’d probably haunt this world out of spite, if I just remained complicit in my own journey.

So now the cafe owners and baristas around the corner from me and where my writers group meet, know my face.

As of Sunday, they’ve learned my name.

That hasn’t happened since I lived in hotels for up to a year at a time and in Ohio for at least nine.

Back then, it was the managers at F.Y.E because I kept buying CDs. It’s nice to feel connected to a place.

I’ve made it a habit when I get stir crazy to get outside. If only to be part of society, embrace the free time I have in between writing and applications, and to have a stupid amount of coffee on tap.

It’s also so my doctor can be satisfied with my Vitamin D levels. Admittedly, I think that’s the healthiest I’ve been in a long time; as I was so used to just sitting at the desk or office chair and too exhausted to leave once the day was done.

The Senior Office Manager with my return to home full-time has become codependent again. Thus it’s our morning ritual that after he finishes eating and once I have my first cup of coffee in hand, he crawls up into my lap and we soak in the quiet until the day starts. He doesn’t wander far when I’m working on pieces and applying throughout the day.

He’s figured out how to look adorable at a moment’s notice when he wants distraction and attention.

This season of life has brought us a new focus on mental health and wellness. Healing the parts that got hurt and diffusing the mental field mines the old path caused us to plant.

I stopped having irrational anxiety my home wouldn’t be there if I left it for an extended period, somewhere at the beginning of this month.

My husband does a lot to remind me I don’t have to go anywhere I don’t want to now, and that the choice is wholly mine.

It’s empowering, and has left me a bit befuddled.

Primarily because I didn’t understand the anxiety even existed until we were in month five of unemployment, and I hadn’t actually gone anywhere else during the week, despite having a myriad of other options around me.

I started forcing myself outside after that.

Now I just need to get into a gym routine.

The cultural shift between being a military brat and mostly transient employee, to stationary adventurer is a new environment to adapt too.

Thankfully, the previous identities have left me ever adaptable.

After a more focused discussion in April, I set a budget for a writing and development stipend to continue my development as a writer and a creative. My husband encouraged me to put a portion towards tickets to attend a writer’s workshop at the end of that month.

I did and met some great folks. Weeks prior to it, I joined a local writers group with the organization ‘Shut Up and Write.’

The group has been great.

Then I wrote a small micro-horror in May as the Senior Office Manager screamed at me while I was half asleep for food, and submitted it to a horror website for their micro-stories.

It was a pleasant surprise to find they accepted it, and the only edit to the proof was a missing hyphen.

I bawled my eyes out of happiness that morning. It wasn’t the big five, but it was another sign I had made the right choice, as it was the day after I had just told the old job ‘no.’

Then this month, it posted, meanwhile the writers group asked for my email and phone so I could be invited to casual get togethers.

I’ve often felt like I wasn’t terribly good at creating connections since I had been in the fed. I was often unable to ‘turn off’ the professionalism requirements that came with it, and with the risk of getting yanked every which way, it was hard to feel grounded.

If the job had a possibility of 24/7 call, I was always on. Particularly once I had been promoted into management.

Even I didn’t find myself much fun until the later years, when I started loosening up just to make sure my brain could take the days, and I turned off the work phone whenever I was on leave.

Getting to know people was mostly a learned behavior from observing my coworkers and how deep their relationships extended. That, and meeting friends outside of the workplace that allowed my husband and I to start to build our nascent community here in the city.

I think as an adult, it’s a bit harder to make solid connections if you don’t have the common backdrop of the workplace; and there’s always a risk when you do. You never know what sort of bomb is going to get dropped in the office from the outside.

Trust is such an invaluable resource in those cases.

But back then, if we were in the office together, we either had a relationship outside of it before hand, or had developed one from working a good long time together where I learned we had common interests, and they were safe to hang.

Mostly because I was just bad at it.

I thought everyone had a separation of work and personal life that was so wide, it might as well be the Grand Canyon.

Then I saw folks traveling together, seeing each other outside of working hours, and realized things weren’t so black and white.

Admittedly, navigating that was an outright pain.

I think I’m starting to get better at it.

I’m still trying to get my head wrapped around getting a group of people to agree to travel together; because I think that would be great fun, and buffer the anxiety that wells up with the thought of traveling to a new place (and promptly getting lost).

I know somewhere in 2024, I started to see life before the pay check and job, and have been coming to understand that work really shouldn’t precede having a rich life.

Living has a tendency to be a good bit longer lived than employment.

Something my lay-off only reinforced.

As I’m working on my community, I’ve rolled the dice on more than my fair share of chances, just to see how it works out. Life just has a habit of getting humorous when you start to give random folks a chance.

But when I made the decision to stay in Philadelphia, I did so with the philosophy of taking care of the community I was forging in it, and trusting that the city would have the resources to take care of me and mine, in turn.

So far I’ve not been proven wrong, and moving out here during COVID still continues to be the best decision I have ever made.

I don’t have the house I want yet; but I’ve got my eye on the grad school I think I’ll try for, for Creative Writing and with any luck, a way forward to ensure I’ve realigned to this new path.

Writing on here has been a huge part of that.

I’ve been enjoying writing about Barry and Lily in ‘Schoolwork and Cement Shoes,’ and growing myself here on the ‘Stack. The dynamics between a mobster as a father and a child (who may or may not be sheltered and judgmental) have been great fun, and I’ve been loving what the story’s become thus far.

I can’t wait to tell their story in its entirety as I begin to build up some smaller fics on the side. My husband and I often toss ideas back and forth on couples that manifest into the stories that I create.

The next one coming out answers a question that I’ve been kicking around about what happens when a Monster Hunter comes into conflict with a Monster Romancer. It’ll be a high-fantasy comedy.

With any luck, and enough interest, there will be two other similar stories that may manifest into something more, or stop there once they’re posted as I’m teaching myself to complete a project, and then move onto something else. I love a happy ending, but hate when stories have to come to an end.

Meanwhile, the honeymoon phase of the lay-off has long since worn off; but I think the working headspace I have now in its wake is a lot more grounded and healthier than which previously existed; given everything that has happened and the revelations made in between.

Like I mentioned in ‘Reset and Launch’, I do believe it was the universe giving me a sign that it was time to enter a season of change; and with it, it provided me the gift of the space and time.

But work will continue on until all we are meant for has actualized.

If you like music during your writing sessions, the following piece was written to three different songs by the German electronicore band ‘Electric Callboy’, from their slow releasing ‘TANZNEID’ Album:

TANZNEID

RATATATA (Feat. Babymetal)

Hypercharged (Feat. Brawl Stars)

Just remember, ‘The Beat says Yeah.’

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If this letter doesn’t interest you and you just want the chapters, jump down to the screen-heading and you’ll get the gist.

The Russo Family got the word that having a bunch of different ‘articles,’ as people call them floating around was a problem without some sort of central focal point for folks to launch off from.

We tried to make it easy with putting launching points in the articles to take them to the next relevant place, but the Tempest family said that wasn’t ‘good enough customer service.’

‘Too many things to click on.’ Their Donna told us, and that ‘this simply can’t stand.’

She then shook her head, waved her candy cigarette at us, and said we needed to ‘clean up our act’ and ‘get good.’

So’s we asked her why she keeps writing so much and why she decided to suddenly make it our problem? Which promptly got some weird magic shit thrown at our young Underboss’s head.

Thankfully, Baer’s got years of dodging magic things due to his work with Apocryphal Incorporated, so, he’s fine- no harm no foul. This is why we always send him to represent at the rank-and-file meetings, and not Antony.

That’d be a worse catastrophe than the time Alessandra tried to change the Christmas Dinner from Italian to a standard Turkey back in ‘99.

I’ve never seen my brother throw a turkey fryer so far.

Anyways; we wanted you to hear the good word about it and give the heads up that Donna Tempest’s website on Substack will have a directory for the story moving forward, in addition to the little buttons in the chapters. That ain’t changing, I don’t care what she says.

It’s good streamlining.

That way folks coming and going got a couple different places they can look to navigate their way through the tale.

Cheers.

With neutral regards,

Ricardo “Ricky” Russo

P.S. Donna Tempest told me to let you know that me knowin’ about magic ain’t ‘canon.’ Kid ain’t ever met my wife Luna. Woman’s up to her eyes in magic.

Either way, Tempest just felt it’d be better than just throwing the map up without ‘some sort of explanation.’

Kids these days, I swear.

Also if you’ve enjoyed our family so far, we’d appreciate if you shared this letter along as a recruitment drive so we can get additional associates on deck.

Crime ain’t what it used to be these days, and we gotta keep ahead of the feds.

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‘Schoolwork and Cement Shoes,’ is an urban-fantasy horror comedy about a mobster in an eldritch pact who gets assigned custodianship of a magical six-year-old kid.

Located within Rose City, Underboss Bernardo “Barry” Russo navigates fatherhood with his young charge Lily Costa as they tackle the first grade, being adopted family, later teenage hormones, and the horrors of knowing magic and eldritch monstrosities exist whilst in the dynamics of being in a close knit crime family.

The Prologues

Prologue Part One (Lily)

Prologue Part Two (Barry)

PART ONE

Chapter One

Something About Miss Mary

Chapter Two

Shadows and Mysteries

Chapter Three

Family Matters

Chapter Four

Childs Play

Chapter Five

Lunar Madness

Chapter Six

Part One: Sins of the Father

Part Two: Cacophony of Furies

Chapter Seven

Faerie Lights and Questions

Chapter Eight

The Dame and The Kids

PART ONE INTERLUDE

Storm-trodden Interlopers

Chapter Nine

Grimoires, Magic, and Coffee

Thank you so much for being a reader and supporting Schoolwork and Cement Shoes. It’s been amazing having people read this story thus far.

I can’t wait to tell it to you in its entirety, and share other stories with you.

Cassondra Tempest

New to the Story?

Click here to start at the Beginning

Lily

Something had made Mister Barry nervous.

Lily couldn’t tell what, but it became apparent when she reached the bottom step and found that his legs shook.

She froze when his hand rose. Then pouted when it planted on her head and ruffled her hair.

“Glad you joined us.” He told her softly, but his voice was breathless.

He looked towards the dining room. She followed his gaze, only to take a step closer to him as she looked at ‘Enzo.’

He looked like one of the men from the books that Granny used to read. Ones where a man always hugged or was near a really pretty lady on the front cover under the title.

Granny used to say that Lily wouldn’t have liked to read those books because they were filled with boring adult stuff. Like people not talking to each other, or not having enough money to pay ‘the bills.’

She still wasn’t sure what ‘the bills’ were, but Granny always frowned when she mentioned them.

Either way, Enzo was the biggest man she’d ever seen.

He was so tall that his head almost touched the ceiling. His legs seemed as big as trees, and his arms had tattoos that were up near the sleeves of his t-shirt.

One of them was a cross, another was three hearts in a row, with numbers beside them. She recognized the cross from the one Granny kept in their house.

Unlike in the picture, Enzo’s dark hair wasn’t short anymore. Now it was long and pulled back into a messy ponytail while he had the bushiest beard.

Mister Barry’s hand on her head ran through her hair before he set it on her shoulder. She tucked behind his leg.

A soft chuckle rumbled above her. “Easy kid.” Mister Barry snickered, “Cousin Enzo doesn’t bite.”

Lily looked up, her lip poked out again in a pout as she scrunched her nose.

Mr. Fox then unhelpfully chimed in, No, of course he doesn’t. He could just eat us in one bite.

She agreed, Cousin Enzo didn’t look like he needed to take bites.

He looked like he could just eat her whole.

She hugged Mr. Fox closer to her as she warily peered around Mister Barry’s legs.

The massive man’s voice reminded her of thunder in caves as he chuckled, “That’s Uncle Enzo, Barry.”

Her head cocked to the side, Uncle?

Was that how it worked? That when someone said they were an Uncle, they just suddenly were?

“You’re not an uncle, you’re a cousin.” Mister Barry corrected, and this confused Lily more.

Was Enzo able to change his titles like a knight or a spy?

She squinted at the large man.

Did that make Barry a king, instead of a prince, in the Kingdom? Since he could just order Enzo to have a different name?

Maybe Uncle Enzo is a bad guy. Mr. Fox piped up, and she gave the tiniest nod as to not give away their conversation.

“Bah.” Enzo waved off Mister Barry with a wave of his hand, “I’m every kids’ uncle in this family. Besides.” He grinned ruefully at Mister Barry, his teeth peeked out from his beard. Lily couldn’t help but smile as she heard the sigh above her from the annoyed adult as Enzo supplied, “We are brothers in a sense.”

“…Ya know, this ain’t worth the headache.” Mister Barry muttered above her.

Her smile vanished once he looked down at her. Mr. Fox also looked up as she hid behind his plush head, “So Lily, what type of toppings you want on your pizza?”

We like pepperoni! She and Mr. Fox shouted.

Mister Barry didn’t seem to hear them though.

She looked at both adults.

She bit her lower lip as she tried to think about how to tell him, before he crouched down.

“How about this.” Mister Barry offered.

She took a step back from him as he raised his hand and he held up one finger, “One for cheese.”

He held up a second, “Two for pepperoni.”

Then a third, “Three for something else.”

Oh! Lily smiled and nodded. That was a lot easier than trying to figure out the super secret powers of telling him without talking.

She held up two fingers, and watched as Mister Barry’s eyes lit up in a smile.

He nodded as he stated, “Pepperoni it is.” Mister Barry then gave a side long look to Enzo as he tilted his head, “Can you call your mom and put in the order? That way I can show Lily the things you brought over for her?”

Lily looked at Uncle Enzo now as his arms uncrossed and he sighed. “Guess I can do that.” He muttered.

He looked at Mister Barry for a moment like he wanted to say something else. Mister Barry’s smile disappeared as he stared quietly at him.

The bigger man seemed to deflate beneath his gaze, before Uncle Enzo gave another shrug, “Just don’t get too ahead on going through it all, I want to see how Lily reacts.” He smiled at Lily. She huddled closer to Mister Barry.

The giant’s tone was light and quick as he stated, “I just want to see if there’s anything there that you like, so we can get more if needed.” He told her, before he turned and moved off towards the living room.

She peered around Mister Barry to see Enzo reach a long corded phone with a circle face on the front. “Still can’t believe you have one of these old things.” He called over to the two of them, “You know they can put a bug in this, Baer?”

A bug?!

She squinted suspiciously at the phone and tried to see if she could catch any glimpse of insect-like legs or creepy crawlies.

Maybe even a Rollie Polie.

But she didn’t see anything as Mister Barry also looked to Enzo. This close, she could feel the warmth of his skin and catch that clean smell again.

She noticed now he had changed out of his black sweater from earlier to a dark blue t-shirt with, ‘Rose City Baseball,’ written across the chest.

“Yeah…” He responded, before a low chuckle rumbled through him. She didn’t get how it was funny though as he muttered, “I don’t worry about that much.”

“You should!” Uncle Enzo exclaimed as he pressed the phone against his head and tucked it into the crook of his neck. He began to speak lowly once the soft clicking and ‘shrrk’ sound from the dial of the rotary phone concluded.

Lily looked back to Mister Barry to find he had turned his gaze to her with a frown.

She froze as his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together. He leaned in a little as he whispered, “You alright, kid?” She stared at him blankly with a small frown as he continued, “Were the shadows bothering you?”

Her eyes widened. Even Mr. Fox went quiet.

Could Mister Barry hear the shadows too?!

He looked past her and up the stairwell into the dark. She looked over her shoulders to see the shadows had gathered once more, making the hallway disappear into nothing but a wall of pitch-black at the top.

Can he hear you? She asked them.

The houses’ shadows responded quietly, almost like they were keeping a secret that they didn’t want Mister Barry to hear, “No. But he can use us.”

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She quickly looked back at Mister Barry. His jaw clenched as he continued to glare up the stairs. His brow furrowed as he considered them.

She looked back up, then to him once more.

Mister Barry could use the shadows?

Her mouth opened in amazement. She had never met anyone else who could! Granny couldn’t hear them or use them. She could only make them stay away and do stuff that made them mad.

Lily couldn’t keep the smile off her face as he looked back at her.

It weakened as soon as she realized he didn’t look happy.

His forehead creased in a grimace and wince, like she had found something gross. He reached up and she stilled as he gently gripped her shoulders.

Her smile vanished as his voice lowered to a low thrum. “Lily.” She felt a clench in her tummy as she got the sense she was in trouble. Goosebumps broke out on her skin, “You can’t let Enzo see them. They need to stay away from the rest of the family.”

He scowled, “Otherwise, it could hurt them.”

Lily leaned back as he hovered in front of her face, his grip on her shoulders kept her from being able to pull away, “Do you understand?”

The warmth from earlier had disappeared. Mister Barry looked scary like this. He made Miss Mary’s skull-face seem silly, and the darkness in his eyes made her hair stand on end.

His hands on her shoulders felt like hot stoves as she swallowed.

His stare pinned her down.

Was he mad at her?

“Do you understand?” He repeated.

His tone had softened to a breath, but it echoed in her head like Granny’s yell.

Lily looked back up at the shadows who said nothing. Even they seemed afraid of what Mister Barry might do.

She looked back to him, and gave a nod.

He held her gaze for a moment, before his features softened. Her mind raced as he put away the scary look that had been on his face.

He didn’t yell like Granny and didn’t stomp off to go smoke when mad, but she still didn’t understand how quickly he could change as he warmed up again and reached up to cup her cheek.

He felt like fire and her whole body felt like ice.

“Good.” He told her softly, “We’ll wait until Enzo heads home, then talk more about it. Okay?”

She gave a shaky breath and nodded, not sure she could say no as he pulled from her and stood up. Her eyes itched and her face warmed as she gave a soft sniff, then took a step back.

That had been way too scary.

“Whoa.”

She looked to the side to see Uncle Enzo had returned, his brows shot up and his eyes narrowed on the two of them. He looked at Mister Barry, and his lips pursed as he glowered at the smaller man, “Everything good, Baer?”

“Yeah.” Mister Barry grunted, and she looked at him, then back to Uncle Enzo who seemed angry. “Everything’s fine, En’.”

Barry

Had Miss Annie not been in his life, Barry would have thought this was a nightmare, rather than his reality.

Not only had Lily acknowledged the shadows and understood his question implicitly, but she had even looked over to see what he did, up the stairs.

Then, from her flickering facial expressions, it had almost seemed like she talked to it.

It can be both. He counseled himself as he stared down his cousin.

Another piece of data entered his calculations that he couldn’t address in its entirety at this very moment. He couldn’t stop the churning in his gut that made him want to vomit.

It had only heightened upon Enzo’s return.

His cousin’s scowl was one Barry had seen before; just never inside his home.

The subtle tension in Enzo’s shoulders and clench in his jaw was typically reserved for dark rooms and shipping yards.

It often ended with blood on his fists or a body at the bottom of the Thorn River.

Barry appreciated Enzo’s good work; but didn’t find it terribly constructive for his budding family dynamic.

It made both the clench in his guts tighten and his heart hammer against his skull as he observed the large man. Like the scent of a storm in the air, he knew there was a tirade brewing that was going to let loose the moment the two of them were alone again.

No big deal, Barry. He muttered to himself, The kid’s just got a connection to magic. You have magic. It’s not like this is abnormal.

It was absolutely abnormal.

If he were alone, he’d let out a hysterical little laugh as his eyes heated in frustration and tension. And the cop shirt… Let’s not think about what that means at all…

Despite the fact Lily had just arrived that morning, Barry felt like he had aged 50 years just in the hours that had passed.

There was no way for him to tell his cousin in a way he’d understand why what just happened, needed to happen; even if it made Lily upset.

He could only guess what Enzo saw. His crime boss elder cousin whispering something to a little girl, who now looked scared as hell.

Who knew what terrible things he had said to scare the kid?

So here comes Super Funcle Enzo was ready to mount an onslaught at her defense.

Barry tucked the self-depreciating thought away as he gushed out in a breath, “Why don’t you show Lily what you brought over for her, Enny?” He needed to ground the situation in some sort of friendliness, or else his mind was about to rocket off to a stress-induced stratosphere.

He watched his cousin’s conflict play out across his face, then shook his head and gently nudged the scared child towards the overprotective bruiser, “Go on, Lily.”

Lily looked up over her shoulder at him, eyes wide and face pale, before she looked back at Enzo.

She looked him up and down, before she looked back to Barry and darted back behind his legs.

Something in Barry’s chest unclenched at that and he peeked behind him to find her gaze locked onto his cousin. Her face stayed half-hidden in her fox plush as she didn’t look away from Enzo and remained sheltered behind his legs.

As scared as he might have made her just seconds ago; it seemed she was more fearful of his cousin than whatever their quick talk had done.

She looked back up at him as he continued to watch before he settled his hands in his pockets.

Enzo gave a soft scoff, but his scowl shifted to a neutral stare as he uncrossed his arms. He shrugged and then gave an empty chuckle, “Seems like Lily would rather stay with you there, Pops.”

Barry barely resisted the flinch from the new title as his gaze snapped to the larger man who stated, “C’mon then, let’s take a look at what we got.”

Some time later…

Barry let out a sigh of relief once his door shut with his cousin’s departure. Empty pizza boxes taken in tow.

His whole body sagged with exhaustion as he all but collapsed on his couch.

Lily sat in his living room across from him, playing with one of the toy trains Enzo had given her.

He watched as it made small divots from its wheels in the carpet-pile. The little girl’s fox plush stationed atop the train as she gave the stained animal toy a ride.

It was only eight PM, but it felt like there was a lifetime between that morning, and now.

He shut his eyes to bask in the quiet between him and the kid. The silence interrupted only by the soft creak and squeak of the metal bar that rotated when the toy train moved.

Lily

Mister Barry had been asleep for a while now.

He snored so loudly, she thought maybe there was a dragon in his nose.

But when she crawled up onto the couch and took a look; she disappointedly found nothing in there but nose-hairs.

There had been a stool in the stuff Uncle Enzo had brought. The kind she used to have at Granny’s with four legs and a rectangular flat top.

So she had already washed and brushed her teeth since she could reach the tops of the counter now. She had tried to brush her hair, but didn’t like when the brush pulled at her head.

She had also gotten into her pajamas all by herself; but now she didn’t know what to do. Mister Barry was asleep, and he wasn’t supposed to go to bed before her.

She looked at another clock beside the couch and saw its numbers read, 11:48 P.M.

She squinted. It was well past her bed time.

Lily looked back to the snoring man and frowned as he hadn’t moved since he had fallen back into the corner of the couch and fell asleep.

“Tap him. He’ll wake up.” The shadows in the hallway prompted.

She looked over at them, then back. The soft, ‘whump whump’ of her hand cut through the air as she patted the adult’s knee before he jolted.

The loud raking of his snore cut off as he sat upright and looked around bleary eyed, “Hold on- wha- huh?” He peered down at her, “…Lily?”

She watched as his brows furrowed and he frowned, before he winced and began to rub his face with his gloved hand.

A groan rumbled through him, “Ugh… how long was I out?”

Too long. She pouted and watched as he drug his hands down his face before he crossed his arms over his thighs to look at her.

As the sleep was shaken from him, Mister Barry mumbled, “All ready for bed, huh?” He gave a sidelong look to the clock and then hissed between his teeth, “Shit-“

She stared at him wide eyed from the swear and he quickly corrected, “I mean crap.” He then mumbled, “Oh man..” With a hiss, his knees popped as he got up from the couch, “You shouldn’t be up.”

She nodded in agreement, it was way past what Granny would have allowed.

Mister Barry winced at her once more, then the clock, and took a breath. She paused as he muttered, “I’m pretty terrible at this.” She frowned as he began to walk towards the hall, “C’mon kid, let’s get you to bed.” When she didn’t follow, he looked back at her and Lily peered curiously up at him.

What had he meant by that?

She gave him a slight squint, trying to figure out what Mister Barry was talking about being bad at before she looked down at his socks.

Then blinked as she spotted that his big toe stuck out of a hole in one of them.

Was he bad at putting on socks? Or bed time?

Considering how much she and Mr. Fox played spies, she wondered if maybe she wasn’t that great at bed time either.

But she was definitely better than Mister Barry about it.

He didn’t even make it to his own bed before he fell asleep! AND his socks had holes in them!

She looked at her socks with no holes.

Clearly, he needed help on how to dress.

She watched as he looked down then lifted his foot partially up to look at it. Then made a squeaking noise as his lips flattened against his teeth “Probably need new ones.”

He cleared his throat and broke her from her thoughts. He waved at her to follow, “C’mon though, Lily. Bedtime.”

Lily let the poorly dressed adult escort her to bed.

Next Morning…

Barry

There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to beat back the exhaustion that weighed Barry down.

His muscles ached with each step he took while he padded around his kitchen with heavy eyes and a confused glance to the boxes of cereal Enzo had bestowed upon him the day before.

The quiet in the house more than welcome after he had been woken up through the night by the kid’s screaming.

Night terrors. He thought bitterly as he took a long draw from his hot brew.

When the kid’s high-pitched shriek woke him up in the early morning, he had thought something had gotten out and attacked. He had been exasperated, but relieved to find only Lily in her room.

Body clenched and spasming with the motions of a sleeping onslaught, mouth open in a loud scream.

But otherwise, physically fine.

Thankfully, this was something he was experienced with. Elio and Enzo had similar issues once they had been made1. So when he called her name, and she didn’t wake up; he had at least an idea of what was going on.

Thankfully, there had been no sleepwalking. Just the small girl’s panic and whimpers. It had been enough for him to sit on the edge of the bed to make sure she didn’t fall out of it, and talk to her through it.

It hadn’t been a terribly long episode. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes at most; but Barry couldn’t get back to sleep after it.

He ended up staying up. Staring occasionally at his ceiling as he laid in his bed, listening to the sounds of the house, his ears perked for the softest whimper or malignant floor creak.

Somewhere around 4 AM, he’d finally been able to drift off; only for the shrieking blare of his alarm to jolt him out of a dead sleep around 6:30 AM.

Now it was nearly half past seven.

He didn’t know how long he should let Lily stay asleep, but he jealously guarded any quiet he could get.

He’d need to caffeinate every brain cell he had before Auntie Luna arrived.

He doubted she’d be as helpful as Enzo described, but his cousin had a point in that he was in over his head and he could use any help he could get.

When he had spoken to her the day before, she hadn’t given him a time.

She just said that she’d be over.

His stomach dropped when he heard the knock on the door at exactly 7:30 AM.

Mug in hand and sleep-deprived mind girded, he moved to check the eyehole on his door and grimaced as he saw an obnoxious amount of neon blue.

She had chosen the hot pink cat eyes spectacles with pale pink beads for today’s look. A series of fine gold necklaces hung off her neck of various eastern iconography. He inhaled deep as he spotted the Hamsa hand right beside an Egyptian Ankh. The neon blue jump suit she’d chosen was accompanied by a white and silver-lined neck scarf.

She had nearly hidden it all on him beneath a non-offensive draped black faux-fur coat.

Barry considered if he should grab his sunglasses though for how shining the smile was on her face as she peered right up where the eyehole was with a knowing grin.

“I heard you come to the door, sweetie.” Auntie Luna stated as she held a large, flat white box in her hands, “I’m freezing out here and if we wait any longer, these donuts won’t stay hot!”

She leaned forward so her eye lined up with the eyehole, and Barry leaned back as she stared right through it at him.

“So be a dear, and let me in.”

Chapter Five

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Barry

The silence in the room felt like the crushing weight of the ocean as Barry finished his explanation.

His words absent of any mention of Miss Annie or Apocryphal Incorporated.

The chair creaked as Enzo leaned back. His lips were contorted into a small frown and his brows kissed as he squinted at Barry over a steaming cup of coffee, “So, Bella Costa’s granddaughter?”

Barry held his head in his hands as he sat on the other side of his dining room table. Lily’s schoolwork still strewn before and around him. “Yep.” He breathed, and let the word hang in the air.

Enzo took a long sip. His slurp raked unpleasantly across Barry’s senses but he didn’t bother to look up as he listened to his cousin gulp. The large man set it down on a coaster with a soft ‘thunk.’

It reminded Barry of a hammer striking against wood.

“You know Uncle Antony’s going to be furious that you didn’t call him as soon as you found out, right?” His cousin asked.

“Yeah, it’s crossed my mind, En’.”

“And that Bella was even alive… I mean. How?”

“I don’t know. But, she most certainly isn’t now.”

“Clearly not, if she’s got you in her Will as her granddaughter’s… what? Godfather?”

Barry shuddered at the thought. He hadn’t earned the title yet, even if he was expected to inherit it, “State’s term is Legal Guardian.” He retorted.

“Like that matters, you know it’s gonna be ‘Godfather,’ when he hear’s about this.” Enzo countered.

“Shouldn’t be. Before today, I never saw the kid, much less baptized.”

“Like I said, Baer, that’s not gonna matter.”

Barry chanced a look up. His cousin sat with his arms crossed on the table, hunched forward towards him. Enzo’s bottom lip was out in a pout as the 32-year-old watched him.

Barry looked back down at his coffee, then took a long draw from it.

“Why not let the system take her? You’re not exactly parent material.” Enzo quietly asked.

Barry frowned and glowered at his mug as he set it down.

Enzo wasn’t wrong. He had been truthful in his protests to Miss Annie that he was the last person who should be saddled with the sleeping kid upstairs. But with her orders given, he had to obey.

He tried to think of a plausible excuse that Enzo would buy, before he sighed. He slumped.

Maybe he didn’t need to lie on this one.

“Would you have?” He asked, and Enzo stiffened in return. Barry gave him a half-hearted scowl. All frown, but no bite, “What was I supposed to do?” Barry continued, “Fault her for her grandma’s existence? Kid doesn’t even know Italian. Bella seems to have been homeschooling her; and christ, Bella would’ve had to be in her… what, sixties? Seventies?”

He grimaced, “Also we fucked over the Costas, not the other way around.” He shrugged, “Lily’s just some kid. Well, not some kid- but… you know what I mean.” He shook his head, “Kid’s fuckin’ six, Enzo; and I ain’t a fucking monster.”

At least, he thought, not about this.

Enzo didn’t speak for a moment. He drummed his fingers against the mug in front of him as his eyes wandered around the room. Barry watched as Enzo licked his lips before he asked, “Feeling guilty about the Costas, then?”

Barry shrugged and shook his head again,“I don’t feel anything about it. And maybe that’s the problem.” He admitted before he took another swig of his drink, “Wasn’t my call at the time. Just did what I was told.”

He liked to think that made some sort of difference. He ignored the churn of his stomach as he considered his next words carefully, then breathed, “But you’re not wrong that I ain’t the parenting type.”

“Not even a little.” Enzo agreed, and Barry shot him a glare. The giant shrugged, “Sorry to say Baer, but since the twins were born, you got as nervous as a boy at the school dance every time Cassidy asked you to hold one of them; and it’s not like you’ve ever offered to watch Marie. Also, let’s not get started on Sofia’s kids, either.” Barry bore his teeth at the mention of his mother and half-siblings, “Hey- I’m not saying you’re in the wrong, just, you’re not exactly, ‘the guy,’ I think of when it comes to watching my nieces and nephew.”

“And what, you’re so great?” Barry barbed with a scoff. He resisted the urge to kick his cousin under the table like back when they were kids. When Enzo annoyed the shit out of him then, too.

Enzo’s teeth flashed back in a wide grin as he gave a low chuckle, “Of course I am. I’m the Funcle.”

“What the fuck is a Funcle?”

“The Fun Uncle.”

Barry grimaced. When he wasn’t paying attention, the world had turned around and made up more bullshit on him. He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep inhale.

The Excedrin had kicked in, but Enzo was gifted with an unnatural knack of driving an ice pick right into his prefrontal cortex, “You’re their only Uncle.”

“That’s not true. There’s Uncle Ricky, and Uncle Antony.”

“Uncle Ricky and Dad, are Great Uncles. You’re their Uncle-Uncle.”

“Yeah. But they’re also not the Fun uncles.”

“Oh for fucks sake.” Barry groaned. He opened his hands out to his cousin as he rested his elbows on the table, “Okay fine- I’ll bite. How are you the fun uncle, En’?”

Enzo laughed at him again, and Barry resisted the urge to reach over and give the younger’s massive neck a hug with his hands.

“Easy. When I watch the kids, I take them out for ice cream. We play video games when their momma ain’t looking, and I teach them how to box on the weekends, because Elio doesn’t want e’m to not know how to throw a punch if someone tries to pressure them on Prom night. So, I got a kid-sized bag hung in the garage.”

“The twins are only ten. Ain’t prom in high school?” Barry inquired with confused bewilderment.

“Yeah. But you got fall formal and other practice-prom things. Plus, kids grow fast, and those years will be here before you know it. World’s changed a lot from when we were kids.” Enzo snickered, “Hell, you got states passing bell-to-bell phone bans, children addicted to a screen before they even know how to play outside- and the discipline we went through? Probably labeled as child abuse under today’s views.” He adjusted in his seat and intertwined his fingers as he set his hands on top of the table. “More modern problems than when we were just skipping class and smoking out back, requires more updated methods of child-rearin’. Speaking of, you should probably read a gentle parenting book or two. Maybe take a parenting course. It helped me out.”

“They got courses for this shit now?” Barry inquired with a sour taste in his mouth. Of course they did. Bespoke trainings were as much of a gimmick as anything else these days.

“They always did. Not surprised you aren’t tracking though.” Enzo supplied,“You and me ain’t exactly the target demographic expected to worry about such things.”

Barry squinted at him, his brows furrowed and his still raised hands tilted as he gave an unspoken, ‘what the fuck does that mean?’

His cousin took it in stride, “Not like you were having kids of your own anytime soon, Baer. Also, last I checked, only oddball girls get real hot for a felon.”

“…Fair enough.” Barry muttered before he slumped back. He looked up towards the hanging light over his dining room table, then to the geometric, art deco style art on the walls.

He rubbed his face, “I’ll bite. What the hell is Gentle parenting, and when’d you take a course? Never figured you for a student.”

“I’ll lend you a couple of my books so you can figure it out.” Enzo grunted as he picked up his mug and took another gulp from it. He swirled it and its contents as he quieted a moment. After another drink, he set it down and looked back up, “Rose City Department of Human Services offers a couple courses at the community center. Elio and Cassidy told me I couldn’t spend time with the kids if I didn’t get my act together.”

“Shit.” Barry piped as the thought of any of it rendered him genuinely off-guard.

Enzo returned his disbelief with a wry grin, “‘Lio also threatened to put my head through the wall if I even risked exposing them to anything like Dad and Uncle Antony did us. So I took the courses. Wasn’t too bad. Also,” A bemused smirk spread across his face, “the twins raise enough hell without me doing anything, and Marie is just old enough she’ll need a buddy when they start trying to convince her into their trouble. It’s in their blood.”

Barry raised a brow at that. Of the three of them, Elio was notoriously, and much of the time, frustratingly, a pacifist.

He tried to envision the other twin threatening his brother, despite the fact Enzo outweighed him by roughly a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. Meanwhile, Elio spent most of his time as the family financier behind a desk, crunching numbers.

He couldn’t see it.

But Barry’s face must have given his disbelief away as Enzo then continued, “Said he didn’t want his son and daughters growing up for their ‘ex-felon uncle’ to be fucking up their lives. So; I was to be on my best behavior and set a good example if I wanted to be around.” His hands squeezed together as he gave a shrug, “So I did the work.”

“Bit hypocritical, considering Elio spends half his week laundering money.” Barry deadpanned.

But Enzo laughed, “You and I both know that’s clean work. I think it had more to do with Cassidy not wanting the kids anywhere near the family business.” He waved off his own statement, “But the kids don’t need to have any part of that ’til- well…” He shrugged, “Who knows when. Times are changing. Old ways aren’t cutting it anymore.”

“Tell me about it.” Barry agreed, before he picked up his mug and drained its contents. He sized Enzo up over it, gathering his cousin’s measure and weighing the consequences before he set the mug back down.

“So.” Barry cut to the chase, “You gonna tell Dad?”

Enzo’s laugh boomed, “Ha! Oh heeell no. I ain’t stupid, Baer. This is all sorts’a levels of fucked up and you- a Dad? Hehe.” He grinned widely again, “Absolutely ridiculous. Tell you the truth, we thought you were going to wind up working yourself to death, what with the way things were going.”

Barry blanched. This was news to him.

Enzo ignored his discomfort as he continued, “Auntie Luna was getting ready to host an intervention before your dad told her to mind her own business.” He picked back up his mug, “But you’ve become a real workaholic. If you ain’t running for your old man, then you’ve been running for high capitalists, and frankly, it’s all boring as shit.”

Enzo paused however, then winced. His grin weakened as he tipped his mug to Barry, “No offense.”

“Oh gee, thanks.” Barry sneered, “Wasn’t aware my life was so bleak to you.”

“Not bleak, just boring.” Enzo countered as he rolled his eyes, “This is the most interesting thing you got going on, other than you know, the cooking. I’m still thinking about those burgers. But yeah- no,” He held his mug in both hands, his fingertips whitened as he gripped. “I’m not gonna rat you out, Baer.”

He shook his head, “Uncle Antony would kick my ass if I was the one who broke this to him. Both for snitching on his son and for telling him something so unbelievably stupid.” He lifted his fist to his temple, “he’d believe knocking me upside the head was doing me a favor: after I’d tell him such ridiculous bullshit, he’d wanna make sure I was thinking straight.”

Barry blinked, he hadn’t expected that. He also didn’t like that Enzo had a point, and was more correct each time he opened his mouth.

He gripped the table and began to speak, but Enzo cut him off.

“No. No, here’s what’s going to happen.” His cousin continued. He held up a hand to shush whatever Barry was about to say. “You ain’t able to leave while little Miss Costa is sleeping upstairs. But I can, and I got a house full of kid stuff that can only help out. Elio’s kids have grown out of it, and who knows, maybe some of it she’ll like. So I’m gonna go back home and start packing some initial stuff to bring over.”

He checked his watch, a beat up silver band with a scratched up clock face. “Once I see the kid, we can go from there.” Barry stiffened, about to refuse before Enzo continued, “It’s going on 1 PM now. Around 5 or 6, call Mom and tell her you want to order a large half cheese- half pepperoni pizza.”

“Why the half and half?” Barry sputtered, off-kilter and flabbergasted as his cousin shook his head and snickered at him.

“Because it’s a 50/50 shot that Lily likes either, or both, and those are the go to for every pizza party there has ever been.” Enzo gave him a bemused snicker before he began to get up, “Before calling Mom though, you’re probably gonna wanna call Auntie Luna.”

Barry’s built up torrent of questions screeched to a halt. His gut clenched as his internal hackles rose. He glowered at Enzo.

Why would he want Luna in on any of this?

He raised a brow at Enzo and tilted his head to the side, “Why?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his tone. Any softness from the prior conversation vanished as he flatly eyeballed his cousin.

Enzo’s smirk disappeared as their easy dynamic vanished. Instead, the man peered at Barry as though he were a viper in a den, and Enzo had just unearthed it.

The silent hiss of the threat that crossed between them only strengthened as Barry shifted and squared up on him.

His younger cousin however, softened. His voice easy as he disarmed the tension and pushed his chair in. “Kid’s nonverbal, right?” Barry gave a nod, “Luna stopped practicing early child psychology about eight years ago when she switched over to specializing in adolescence.” Enzo gripped the back of the chair and leaned forward as he continued, “But, if they’re telling you to look into therapy for the kid, she wouldn’t be a bad place to start. Could help you get an idea of what you might need to look at, or refer you to someone she trusts.”

His massive shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, “I don’t know what you and Luna got between you… but I’d let her in.” Barry grimaced as Enzo gave a weak smile, “You are her favorite, after all.”

“Bullshit.” Barry retorted.

Enzo shook his head, “No. Told me herself while wine-drunk at one of Uncle Ricky’s cookouts last June. Said Elio’s boring as hell, and it’s obvious that I don’t need her help. So, you get the spotlight.” Barry watched as Enzo stood up straight as he finished, “They ain’t kidding though when they say it takes a village, Barry; and you’re just lucky enough to have a big one. So, see some sense.”

He turned and headed for the exit, stopping only to put his shoes back on in the foyer. Barry rose up from his seat as Enzo called over, “Call your father, then call Luna! Longer you wait, the more pissed off your old man is gonna be that he had to find out from someone else. Oh- and change your shirt!”

“Hold up. What are you getting at the house?” Barry asked.

His cousin stood back up and opened the front door. “Stuff. Don’t worry about it, Baer.” Enzo chuckled, “I got you covered. You just focus on those two things and that little girl ’til I get back.” He jabbed his thumb into his chest, “I got this.”

Barry wasn’t certain he did, but Enzo was too confident in the matter for him to be able to refute it as his cousin walked out the door.

The thundering quiet of his house in Enzo’s absence dug into Barry as their conversation washed over him. A fog pulled away from his mind as he took the moment to consider his family in its entirety.

He hadn’t expected Enzo to put a helpful hand forward so… readily.

He blinked as he took in the popcorn ceiling above him, licking his lips with a groan. He also wasn’t so sure what he expected when it came to the family and his new charge.

It wasn’t like he would have been able to hide her for the next twelve years.

His throat tightened and it felt like someone compressed his chest as it dawned on him that he was suddenly staring down the barrel of those twelve years.

Would Miss Annie have him keep Lily longer? Was this a matter of custodianship, or some sort of hostage situation?

“Accept the Charge.” Had been the order. But as he sat there in a moment of quiet, he recognized he really didn’t know what that even meant.

He looked back down to the schoolwork that had been left unaddressed and his stomach sank with dread; before he inhaled slowly. That feeling was becoming a bit too normal for his liking.

He shoved the frustration and helplessness that welled in his chest back into submission as he buckled down with a soft hiss between clenched teeth.

Lock it in. He rebuked, before he got up to brew another pot of coffee.

Despite how much he wanted to deny it, Enzo had a point.

This was going to quickly spiral into a family matter if he didn’t get ahead of it. He needed to buff out his story on how the kid came into his care and recite it until it was so rote, it was the only truth. He also needed to get started on finding out the truth surrounding Bella’s death.

At least before his Dad got the chance to track down the information, instead.

Then he needed to figure out the risks of introducing Lily to his… he supposed, now her, larger family. He rubbed his face as he set the kettle back up to heat and boil as he muttered, “Lily Russo.”

It felt better on his tongue than stating Costa, again, out loud.

He wondered if, in time, paperwork would show up stating just that.

Apocryphal Incorporated had already avoided a whole court procession after all.

He looked back to the table and began to sort and stack the books like the risks and actionable weights that had begun to pile up in his head.

The to-do list ever grows. He grumbled.

Lily

Lily felt heavy, tired, and hot the moment she woke up.

She could hear low rumble of voices nearby. There was the painful scent of roses and smoke, but it hovered less intensely around her. Mostly because the smell of fresh laundry now buried it.

Something soft was under her arm and head.

She opened her eyes, and froze.

Her stuffed animals surrounded her. She curled into a small ball as she took them all in.

There was Hoppy the happy frog; Jason, the Unicorn; Jupiter, the Alien; Jim, the rainbow Octopus; and Rosie, the Genius.

Rosie was a pink dolphin, and was a genius because she was pink. Pink was a better color than the boring blue or gray most dolphins were.

Then finally, there was Mr. Evil: Bringer of the End of the World and All that is Fun.

He was a white narwal whose horn she had accidentally poked herself in the eye with when she was four. He never apologized for it though, so their friendship was ruined, forever.

Thus, he was the permanent villain in all the games she and her friends played.

As she looked over them and made sure nothing was ripped and their bodies were intact. Her best friends with their black beady eyes, looked right back.

Her favorite however, was Mr. Fox, who had snuggled close while she had slept and taken up the space under her arm. She looked down at the soft, stained velveteen orange-and white plush with his button black eyes and little hard plastic nose.

Mr. Fox tilted his head and looked back.

She blinked.

Mr. Fox didn’t.

She sat up.

And thus, so did Mr. Fox.

She looked up and around the room, then moved Mr. Fox to sit in her lap. She hugged him close and imagined his little stuffed arms wrapping around her own while she took in the closed blinds and the sound of the house around her.

The faint smell of Granny’s home hovered, but the big bed, painted walls, and wooden floors reminded her that this wasn’t her bedroom in Garnet Harbor.

She looked down at Mr. Fox, who promptly looked up.

He filled her in, reminding her they were at Mister Barry’s. She nodded, then looked around in the dim light. Her lips pressed together as she realized the boxes from before had vanished, and all her stuff was unpacked.

Did Mister Barry do it while she was asleep? She must’ve been really tired if she didn’t wake up when he had put it all away.

She looked to the dark corners and closet. The shadows that laid in them proudly told her, “We helped.”

She squinted, unsure if they were supposed to be so proud. Then Lily looked around again as she tried to remember what happened. She looked back at the bare floor and tilted her head.

She had unpacked one of her boxes and smelled Granny. Then she had started crying, and couldn’t stop.

It had hurt her heart and head. So much so, she hadn’t known what to do. Then Mister Barry picked her up.

She hadn’t been sure about it at first, because she didn’t know Mister Barry well, and when she had cried at Miss Mary’s, the lady had talked to her throughout it.

Which hadn’t helped. It had only made Lily tired and frustrated, because she didn’t know what to say to Miss Mary to begin with.

But Mister Barry didn’t do that at all. He also didn’t smell bad, or like Granny. He had smelled clean, and he’d held her until she had been able to stop.

She remembered how warm he was, and how his heart sounded against her head. Everything felt heavy after that, and his humming had been nice. It made her chest hurt less, and easier to breathe.

She must’ve fallen asleep though, because she couldn’t remember getting into the bed.

But now because she was under the blankets and her hoodie, she felt too hot. She set Mr. Fox to the side.

Stay there. She ordered.

He immediately disobeyed and fell over onto the covers.

Lily glowered in disapproval.

This was typical of Mr. Fox. Granny had once said it was because he had a big head, and that’s what made him fall over.

Lily knew better, though.

It was because Mr. Fox wasn’t a good listener, and he just liked to misbehave.

She was too warm to do anything about it though. If he stayed on the bed, then he technically- she liked that word, ‘technically.’

It made her sound smart.

He then technically was doing as he was told.

She reached beneath her hoodie and began to struggle out of it. The room felt cooler once she got it off, and she kicked it and the big blanket away. From up here, the bed expanded out like a massive field, or the top of a boat.

She wondered if Mister Barry had a boat. She had never been on one before.

Focus. Mr. Fox urged her, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He continued to stare at her unblinkingly from where he laid on his side in the center of the bed.

You’re not the boss of me. She argued, and looked towards the edges of the mattress. She crawled towards it. She wanted to get down. She winced though as she saw how high up it was once she reached the bed’s edge.

You can do it! Mr. Fox cheered, and Lily nodded in agreement.

Of course she could. Granny used to have to chase her when she climbed out from the play gate when she was little. This would be easy-peasy.

Carefully, she rolled onto her stomach and turned around, then tried to slide backwards off the bed. As she lowered herself, she found her toes barely touched the floor before she was able to land on her feet and look around.

She looked under the bed and found the shadows had gathered beneath it, a pitch-black wispy orb rippled at her presence as it had filled the space. She frowned, That’s scary, go somewhere else.

“Sorry.” They apologized, and she watched as the shadows darted back to the corners and closet of the room. Once they moved, she could see the space beneath the bed.

Unlike her bed back at Garnet Harbor, this bed was lifted high enough off the ground that she could fit beneath. She curiously poked at what seemed like big containers were stored underneath. With a tug, she found they were too heavy for her to pull out. So she left it be for now.

She stood back up to look around the room instead. All her books had been put in a table that was beside the bed, and a hard box that wasn’t hers sat on top of it. There were red numbers and letters that glowed in the dark. The numbers illuminated were a 4, 3, and 9 and there were letters P and M beside them.

Granny used to have something like that by her bed. It was probably a clock.

She went to the set of drawers next that were partially open. She pulled one drawer all the way out with a soft huff, and then reached inside.

She grimaced as there was nothing interesting. It felt like it was just her clothes. That was boring, but she guessed okay.

She continued to poke around the bedroom and found all her things were in places she could get to them. She looked in the dim light up at the wall and pouted.

There were no pretty lights or art here. Like the drawers only having her clothes, it was all so boring.

…Maybe Mister Barry doesn’t like fairy lights. She thought. Her Granny had helped her put them all over her room back in Garnet Harbor. She looked around the room again and frowned at the shadows that rippled nearby. Can you get pretty lights?

“No.” The shadows retorted, and left it at that.

She looked from them, and then around again. She then asked, Can you get crayons and paper?

The shadows paused their rippling, before they began to slink away from the room. The dark corners of her bedroom and closet began to become visible as she watched them fade, “Maybe.” They told her, before they left.

Lily crossed her arms and huffed. Well, at some point, there would need to be a talk about pretty lights, and she would have to get some crayons. She needed something to color with.

She looked over to the door which was still a little open, and winced at the light that shined in from the hallway through the open crack. It hurt her eyes, and she rubbed at them as they teared up before she moved towards it.

She stilled though as she heard a soft, ‘thump’ behind her.

She looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Fox had fallen off the bed.

I told you to stay there. She complained as she gave a soft sniff. She looked back at the hallway, and then back towards her friend.

As she listened to the low, deep voices continue just beyond the door, she felt her throat clench and her head buzz. She looked back to the door and then to Mr. Fox as she decided she didn’t want to go out there alone.

She turned and walked back to him, then grabbed him by the paw and hugged him to her chest. Fine, you can come too. She wished he just listened and stayed put, but that seemed to be ‘too much for Mr. Fox’ today.

We should play spies. He stated, and she decided the suggestion was a good peace offering.

They should play Spies. That would be fun.

They used to play spies when Granny sent them to bed, but they weren’t tired yet. Sometimes the shadows would join in too.

Okay. She agreed. Let’s play spies!

Once she got the door open and stepped into the hallway, she paused as the light above them flicked off. She nodded in thanks to Mister Barry’s house, and then listened. It was easier to play spies when lights weren’t on.

Instead of Mister Barry’s voice, which was light, the other voice was deeper, with a lower rumble that made her hug Mr. Fox a little tighter.

As spies, this had to be their bad guy.

She crept closer to the top of the stairs to listen.

“I still can’t believe I have to have a booster seat.” Mister Barry stated.

‘The bad guy’ then replied, “Yeah. It’s state law. Least ‘till she’s old enough to meet the height and weight requirements. The twins just made it, but Cassidy still prefers them in the back. It’s just safer that way.” The other man rumbled, “You call Mom yet?”

Whose mom? Mister Barry’s mom? Or ‘the bad guy’s?’ Did Mister Barry have a brother?

She tensed as a new thought hit her.

Was Mister Barry a bad guy too?

A shadow that laid deeper in the hall whispered, “No. He’s fine.”

Oh- right. She forgot for a moment she was just playing Spies. She nodded to the shadow in thanks, and then continued to listen.

“It ain’t five yet, so give me a moment, will ya?” Mister Barry asked, “Talking to Luna and Dad was… a lot.”

She frowned as that twist in her guts happened again like back when he was talking about his family. She looked down at her tummy and Mr. Fox, and then back up. She didn’t know what that was about, but it still made her feel gross.

Lily crept closer to the stairwell as she heard ‘the bad guy,’ chuckle, “Eh, consider it a necessary evil, Cuz. Had to be done if you wanted to keep peace in the kingdom.”

Lily sucked in a deep breath. They were in a Kingdom? Which kingdom?

Was it a magic kingdom?

She bit her lower lip as she leaned forward over the first step. Maybe there was hope for fairy lights after all, if they were in a magic kingdom!

She bounced with excitement as another thought crossed her mind. Maybe Mister Barry liked fairies too! Then he’d be all for fairy lights, right?

The possibilities were endless for how many strands she could get hung up if he was. Maybe she could get a whole wall, if she was good, and asked nicely.

Lily… Mr. Fox whined, We’re playing Spies!!!

She stilled and tried to contain her excitement.

Right. Her face screwed up into serious concentration. They had a job they were supposed to do. Though she wasn’t sure yet what that job was, and why it was more important than fairy lights? She just knew they were in a Kingdom now, and Mister Barry had to keep the peace.

Clearly, he was someone important. Maybe a prince- or a ‘const-able.’ Though he didn’t have a horse.

Or armor.

And she wasn’t exactly sure what a ‘const-able,’ was as it was, but her Granny told her they showed up in Kingdoms to ruin fun.

She stilled as she circled back onto the possibility that maybe Mister Barry was a bad guy again, if he ruined fun. Fun ruiners didn’t like fairy lights.

The shadow rippled closer down the hall and then told her no, again, that Mister Barry wasn’t a bad guy, and he probably did like fun.

She glanced at it, then back down the stairs. They had never lied to her before, so she put the new counter-intelligence they provided away as she went back to playing Spies.

“So, when are they gonna meet her?” The bad guy asked.

She heard Mister Barry make a noise like he was in pain, before he sighed, “Luna will be by tomorrow. Dad says he wants to meet her by the end of the week. I doubt he’s gonna wait that long, though.”

“He still got a key to the house?” The bad guy asked.

“Yeah.” Mister Barry breathed, “Yeah, he does. We’ll see how it goes. I’ll have to tell the squirt if an old man shows up randomly in the kitchen, not to get scared.”

What was a squirt? She blinked and took a step down on the first step, only to freeze as a loud ‘creaaaaaak’ went through the air.

The bad guy started to say something only to go quiet as the stair protested beneath her foot.

She winced and hugged Mr. Fox tight. She gripped the railing as she pulled away from it. Her head buzzed with nerves and she stepped quickly off the top step, then darted a few paces back.

Each foot step sounded like a drum to her.

Please help. She prompted the shadows, and felt the familiar coolness of them as they rushed over to hide her in the pitch of their dark. They tickled as they brushed around her body and she stifled the soft giggle as she crouched and looked out from them just over the top step.

She heard the familiar scrape and groan of a chair as it was pushed out. She looked over to see Mister Barry stick his head into the stairwell and look up.

He can’t see me… we’re hidden. I’ve hid. She told herself. She buried half her face into Mr. Fox’s head, but Mister Barry’s eyes locked right onto hers.

His lips flattened and his brows furrowed, before he called up, “Hey kiddo, glad to see you’re awake. You wanna come downstairs?”

Lily froze again, and words clung to her throat. She tried to think of something to do, because Mister Barry turned out to be really good at hide and seek, and now she had just been caught.

Mr. Fox cursed and she glanced down at him in panic. He wasn’t supposed to say bad words! She looked back up at Mister Barry, unsure of what to do.

He didn’t come near. The adult just took a step onto the first landing of the staircase instead. His one gloved hand settled into his pockets.

He then stated, “Enzo and I were talking about ordering a pizza. You’ll need to come down if you want to pick out a topping though!”

Pizza? She did like pizza. But she wasn’t quite sure yet. Weren’t spies supposed to fight back if they were caught? Was she allowed to just go downstairs?

He looked to the side, and she watched as his eyebrows shot up as he looked at something. She caught the soft sound of someone talking too quietly for her to make out the words.

Mister Barry could though, because he then nodded, then looked back at her.

His tone warmed and he raised his free, bare hand, “Don’t worry. Enzo’s the guy you saw in the picture earlier. The one that looked really happy from the wedding. He won’t bite.”

No. Mr. Fox countered, He’ll just want us to take over the world with him, instead.

She looked back down at Mr. Fox.

What if Mr. Fox was right, and their pretend wasn’t wrong.

What if the other guy was ‘a bad guy?’

Mister Barry looked at her, and then down. Could he see Mr. Fox in the dark too?

His mouth opened as he chuckled-

Barry

“Don’t worry kiddo, you can bring your friend too.”

Straight face, Baer. Calm voice, and what ever you do: Do Not React.

There was something on the second floor with the kid that was making the magic at the fringes of Barry’s senses go mad. Unlike before where it stirred and got excited with the grimoire, now it was actively rattling against its cage to get out and act.

Unfortunately, he had no clue what it was trying to do or its intent.

He could barely restrain it as he watched Lily hide in the dark. The shadows were clinging to her in a way he recognized as preternatural. It was absent of the cold that came when his magic worked, but he couldn’t identify if it was inherently sinister or not.

But, she didn’t seem in pain, and it seemed just the edges of her disappeared into the dark. The edges of her form undefined to nothing but wisps.

With how shadows were interacting with her; he had to wonder if the ritual circle in the crawlspace had activated again. Or, if this was due to the interaction with his occult-tainted copy of the Divine Comedy earlier.

He didn’t think so on the latter, but the former was a possibility.

Last time he’d left it dormant rather than disabled- it had been a demon that got out.

The time before that, an extremely bothersome tulpa haunted him for a week.

But even with the demon, it’d manifested as a sentient shadow that wanted to take a bite out of him.

This didn’t seem like that, though. The interaction didn’t seem to be bothering her.

Maybe she didn’t notice it?

Acknowledging these things often gave them power, but if the kid wasn’t doing so, then it may as well just be like a mirror person banging on their side of the glass.

Concerning, but relatively harmless.

What Barry did know though, was that Enzo was only six feet from him as his cousin pantomimed and whispered advice on how to coax her down.

But he didn’t want to expose Enzo to whatever preternatural thing was occurring with Lily right now. It could drive his cousin insane from trying to rationalize what he was seeing, if he got a good look at it.

Barry’s heart hammered in his chest as he managed kindly, “We’re thinkin’ maybe cheese or pepperoni. Ya got a preference?”

Lily moved forward and the shadows loosened from her. She reached the top of the stairs and stared down at him with a blank expression, but all of her body now defined. Fast-acting relief flooded him at the diminishment though of something he now didn’t have to explain.

With the shadows gone from her, he could see she had lost her hoodie. The blue t-shirt she wore now set off a new alarm bell in the wake of the one that had just finished going off, as he took in the white words emblazoned across its front.

‘Kids <3 Garnet Harbor Police!’

Fuck me, Bella. Barry thought bitterly, What else did you do?

Continue to Chapter Four

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Lily

Mister Barry’s house was three floors tall with a basement. But Mister Barry didn’t call it a basement, he called it a, ‘crawlspace,’ and it was a place that he told her that they shouldn’t go in.

The house shadows weren’t happy when he said that. A series of soft insults were thrown the adult’s way, but Lily thought what Mister Barry said was pretty normal. The shadows were always kept back a little by the light and Granny had used to say she needed to stay where the light was at all times.

Here, it was more like the shadows lived in the crawlspace, and just visited the upper floors.

The first floor had a small kitchen, a big dining room, and a living room with the big TV. There was a small bathroom under the stairs.

The second floor had two bedrooms, another bathroom, and Mister Barry’s office.

The third had another bedroom; a big den that Mister Barry said he used for having people over; a ‘wet’ bar- but it looked pretty dry to Lily; and for some reason, sliding doors off the den that opened up to a yard that was on his roof.

The house that was attached to his also had one. The other house’s didn’t look as nice though, and didn’t have any furniture or big flower boxes.

She had only seen yards from the back of houses, so she was confused on how they had moved them from behind the house to on their roofs.

He seemed rather proud of it all though, so she didn’t ask.

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It was warm out when they walked out and stood under a lattice work awning that was built on top of it. Even though just an hour earlier, there had been snow on the streets down below and it had been so cold that she had needed her coat.

He explained when she stared at the odd glowing-rings in a metal pan that hung down from the awning, that they were heat lamps, and that they kept him warm when he wanted to be outside, even if it was cold.

Lily liked the idea of that. She could play outside even though it wasn’t summer yet.

What she didn’t like was how high up his yard was.

Mister Barry didn’t seem to like it either, because he soon told her to stay away from the edge of the roof and that she probably shouldn’t go out there if he wasn’t around.

That was okay, she liked his office more than she liked his yard.

It was big with a comfy looking armchair in the corner and a pretty wooden desk. It smelled almost like the back deck at Granny’s house when Granny smoked.

It took up a large part of the second floor, and the office door was a pretty wood that matched the desk. The room had a series of beige and off-white walls with large windows that let sunlight in since they were on the back and unattached side of the house.

What excited Lily most was that it had two walls of floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with books and a ladder. She ran into the room as soon as she saw them and began to poke around the many titles.

Mister Barry didn’t seem to mind. He crossed behind her to lean against his desk, his arms crossed as he watched and stated, “Sometimes I work from home. When I do, it’s in here.”

Lily looked at the book spines that faced her, squinting as she couldn’t understand all the words on them. Some even seemed like they were written in babble. She spotted one with a word she recognized. She pulled it out so she could sound it out in her head.

‘Divina Commedia di Dante’

She squinted as she turned to the first page and frowned as she found someone had drawn inside the book. There were odd symbols drawn over the title page and small pictures she didn’t recognize that decorated the border.

It was all in a rust-colored ink, and she blanched at the page’s funny smell. It smelled the same way the Wolf made the house smell.

“I don’t know if you’re old enough to understand that one, yet.” Mister Barry spoke lowly from behind her.

Lily looked over her shoulder and flinched to see he had gotten closer. Mister Barry frowned as he peered down, his eyes locked on the first page and the symbols she didn’t quite understand, before he extended a hand to her, “Did your grandma teach you to read Italian?”

Something was different in his tone, but he only glanced at her before he peered back at the large book in her hands.

She tried to remember what Italian was but only recalled it as a dressing that Granny liked on her salads.

She shook her head.

Mister Barry’s brows furrowed and his frown deepened as he inhaled slowly and nodded, before he curled his fingers in a ‘give’ gesture. “Well, this one says the ‘Divine Comedy’ by Dante.”

She handed him the book and he snapped it shut.

He leaned away from her as he took a step back and set it on his desk, then looked back to survey the shelves, “Ya like reading, Lily?” She perked up from her perch on the floor and nodded, and Mister Barry gave one in return, “Alright.” His voice warmed, “We’ll have to get you a library card.”

Her eyes widened. A library card? She got to her feet and peered up at him.

Mister Barry blinked, “What, you haven’t had one?” She shook her head. He paused, then grimaced, “Have you been to the library before?”

Once more, she shook her head. She had heard of it, but Granny never took her. Granny used to say they were safer just staying at home and that they could get the books later, or order them in.

His eyebrows shot up and his lips pursed while his jaw clenched. It reminded Lily of how Granny used to look when she saw Lily and the shadows play. His tongue hit his lips and teeth in a ‘tsk,’ before he inhaled deep and sighed slowly. His hand came up to cover his mouth a moment later.

Once more, Mister Barry said something quietly she didn’t catch as he rubbed his face.

Was he speaking Italian?

Whatever he was doing, it was quickly over as he looked at her and rubbed at his scruffy jaw as he stated, “Alright then. Guess we’ll have to add that to the list.”

He looked up and around the room, then back at his desk.

Lily peered at it as he seemed to be looking at something; but she couldn’t see anything but pens, papers, a phone, and the rectangle of a laptop.

“Stay away from the desk if he’s not here.” The shadows warned her from between the shelves. She looked over to see they had clustered in the gap that was left from where she had removed the ‘Divine Comedy.’ They rippled like smoke as they spoke. “It’s bad.”

They talk a lot more here than they did at Granny’s. Lily thought as she looked away.

“It’s easier here.”

Her head snapped right back to them; eyes narrowed as the shadow rippled and then sunk deeper into the shelves. She clenched and flexed her empty hands as she tried to understand what their response meant.

They never talked this much when an adult was around at Granny’s, either. They also never talked back to the thoughts in her head.

Were they somehow… more, here?

She didn’t have long to think about it as she heard Mister Barry clear his throat, she looked towards the adult who had turned his attention back to her.

“Hey Lily.” He addressed, and she lifted her gaze to meet his, “Don’t come in here without me.” She looked at the books and winced.

She wanted to be able to read them all.

Mister Barry followed her gaze and then laughed, “Just until we get you sorted, alright?”

She rolled her eyes back to him in a long stare, and glowered, before begrudgingly, she nodded.

Fine. She guessed she could wait, a little.

He nodded and then gestured for her to follow, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get your stuff sorted out.”

Her stuff? He had her stuff? She watched as an amused glint appeared in his eyes before he huffed out a chuckle.

Like he was reading her mind, he continued, “Yeah kid, they brought your stuff.” He jerked his chin towards leaving the room, “Let’s go see.”

Lily followed. He shut the door behind them, and she watched as he took out a key to lock it. Disappointedly, she looked at the second-floor hallway to distract herself.

There was a hallway dresser that sat between the office and two other bedrooms beside the hall bathroom door. She looked up on the wall to see the many pictures that were hung there of Mister Barry, and a group of other men.

They all looked similar with dark hair and brown eyes. But the two other men in the first picture looked nearly identical and in suits. Mister Barry was also in a suit but in the middle, with the two bigger men’s arms slung across his shoulders and a big green bottle in one of their hands. Their faces lit up with laughter and their mouths were open in full-toothed grins. There were balloons and streamers above them.

The next picture was of Mister Barry, but he was much younger. He stood beside a taller man who looked similar, but not quite as close as the other two did in the previous picture. He was draping a white cloth over Mister Barry’s shoulders while Mister Barry’s head was bowed.

She heard him grunt and looked over to see he stopped beside her and also looked at the picture, “Ah. That’s my dad and I.” She nodded, then pointed to the other one of him and the other two men and raised a brow.

Mister Barry looked at her and then up, he shrugged, “That was from when Elio was getting married to his wife, Cassidy. Him and the other one, Enzo, are brothers. They’re my cousins.”

Cousins? She didn’t have any cousins that she knew of, but Granny had once mentioned there had been a couple in Granny’s life ‘before.’

Whatever ‘before’ was. Granny never wanted to talk about it.

Her lip poked out in a pout as she looked down the hall. It sounded like Mister Barry had a big family.

Meanwhile, it had always just been her and Granny.

For some reason, that felt gross. Her throat hurt and her face heated, and she felt a tightening in her chest that made her glare away from him. She winced as he continued down the hallway to the two doors at the end of it. She trailed behind him as he opened the door on the right. Once she reached beside him, she looked inside.

The room had another big bed and two nightstands. A series of plants like the ones that were downstairs, were in here too; tall with big green stalks and leaves.

It looked clean, and he had a big trunk at the end his bed with a sand-colored rug beneath it.

The walls had been painted a forest green and with the dark wooden floor, it reminded her of the forest. Another door was open against the wall she peered in from, and she could see the beginnings of a bathroom inside.

“This one’s mine. Yours is right next door.” He told her, then shut the door with a soft, ‘click.’

He opened the door to the left.

The walls in here were white and had the same dark wood floors. It smelled clean. There was a bed against the far wall, bigger than the one she had back at home with a sand-colored comforter and big fluffy pillows. It also had tables on either side of it. There were boxes with black words written on the sides of them: ‘books’, ‘clothes’, ‘stuffies’, and others all surrounded the bed. She shuffled forward past him.

So, her books were here too?

She approached the big box that had ‘books’ written on its side and grabbed the overlapping cardboard flaps on top of it. She gave them a pull, only to freeze as a plume of a new smell slammed into her.

The scent of cigarettes, rose perfume, and the warmth of Granny’s house surrounded her.

Lily’s stomach dropped. It felt like something was pressing down on her chest as her breaths grew tight. Her head buzzed as she felt dizzy, and her eyes itched.

She shook over the box as she held onto its edges and shuddered as her face grew hot again. Tear drops hit the book covers below.

“Kid?” Mister Barry asked from behind her.

She jumped as she heard him approach. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Her breath grew rapid as the sobs caused her to shake. Her fingers ached as she dug into the hard cardboard and rasped out a gasp.

He hovered closer, and his voice dropped to a murmur, “Lily?”

She twisted away from the stranger that was Mister Barry and tried to hide away.

She was here, but Granny wasn’t. All her stuff was here, but this wasn’t home.

She looked around the room for a spot to hide but jerked again as he gripped her shoulders. Her feet stumbled beneath her as he turned her towards him. She couldn’t look up as another, silent wail ripped from her.

Her heart hurt so bad.

Mister Barry gave a soft breath, and her feet couldn’t keep up as he pulled her into him.

Lily struggled, trying to get away, then froze as his arms wrapped around her and tucked her into his chest. His heartbeat hammered against her ear as he held her in a heavy embrace.

“Hey now.” His voice was soft and deep, she could feel it resonating through him and into her as his hug pulled her close, “It’s alright.” His voice rumbled.

No it wasn’t. Nothing was alright.

She pounded a fist against his chest. He grunted but didn’t let go. She gave another, then gave up and grabbed onto his shirt as another wave of sadness consumed her.

She gave in, buried her face into his chest, and mourned.

Barry

“Let it all out, kiddo. I’ve got you.”

Barry absolutely did not have her. He didn’t even know what the hell to do.

He did know he wanted to cry. But as the adult, he knew it was in the unwritten rules of being older that he wasn’t allowed.

So, what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to calm a crying child when he wasn’t even sure what set her off to begin with? He tamped down on the panic that had welled up once he had realized what was happening.

What would his cousins do? He had seen Elio handle Marie when she lost it, but that was her dad. His cousin typically tried to talk through it.

The only issue with that was Lily wasn’t talking, and even now as she shook, the sobs that rocked her body were choked out gasps and shuddering breaths. He didn’t know if he should be concerned there were no vocals coming from the kid, or if this was just part of her being nonverbal.

So, he just sat there as the little girl in his arms bawled her eyes out into his sweater.

He was relieved that she’d switched from fighting, to holding onto him. He tried to remember what his dad would do, then decided that would be a terrible idea.

He doubted she needed him to tell her to stop crying and to stiffen up her bottom lip.

With a quick look around the room, Barry swallowed his nerves, made his decision, and lifted her up. She fussed at first with a gasp and small hands pressed against him as her feet left the ground, only to then cling as she choked and hiccupped in her crying and latched onto his chest.

He carefully maneuvered around the boxes and took a seat on the edge of the bed, setting her down on his thighs before he started to rub small circles on her back as she clung tight.

His eyes shut as he kept an arm around her and began to sway back and forth to rock her. He suppressed the urge to push her away as she dampened the wool of his sweater, and in a desperate attempt to calm them both, began to hum the tune Nonna Russo would, when she busied herself in the kitchen in the years after his mother had left him and his father behind.

He focused on the musical notes and rhythm over her crying as his hand planted into her curly hair. He ran his fingers gently through the strands. His own heart started to settle in the melody and soon, after he lost track of time, the rattle and shuddering of her breath began to soften.

He felt her weight start to fall against his chest and her head settle beneath his chin. He opened an eye, leaned back, and peeked down to see her tear-stained face and snotty nose, while her grip on his shirt had loosened and her eyes had shut. Her chest rose and fell in steady breaths.

Holy shit.

That had actually worked. He looked past her and down at the boxes, his plan to let them unpack together now spectacularly blown up in his face.

Kid opened the first box, then cried herself to sleep. Good going, Baer. He thought sarcastically, but couldn’t deny the relief of it being over as his shoulders slumped.

Lily had looked dead on her feet since she arrived, so he was grateful she had fallen asleep.

Carefully, he untangled her grip on his shirt. After cradling her up against his chest so he could stand, he quickly deposited the sleeping child in the bed. As he pulled the blanket over her, he watched her sniffle and roll away from him.

He froze, and waited to make sure she didn’t wake up.

Once she didn’t, Barry released the breath he had been holding.

With Lily dealt with for the moment, he turned to the boxes that littered the floor. Sucking on his teeth with a soft squeak, he tried to figure out what to do.

Questions interjected themselves instead. What triggered her? How did Bella end up dead? Also, how did she have a granddaughter that none of them knew about?

It wasn’t like the Costas shared every birth in their family, but it should’ve gotten out that Bella had had kids, otherwise, how was she even a grandmother? Lily looked too similar to Bella for him to think they were anything less than blood.

So where were her parents?

This wasn’t the first time he had thought over these questions in the past three days, but now that the introductions were over, he actually had time to think.

Also, why couldn’t the kid read Italian? Her grandma spoke it fluently, and why hadn’t Bella brought Lily around to a library?

Schools had them for Christ’s sake. Cassidy could barely pry her twins away from the one in the neighborhood, and Elio bragged constantly about Rose City’s ever widening children’s section since the Family donated towards the modernization of the local branch’s catalogue system.

Finally, what did Miss Annie find so important about this kid that she demanded he take charge over her?

As he searched his favorite guest room, now transitioning into a child’s bedroom; he only found that his questions were growing louder in the absence of answers.

Was it Bella who put him down on the papers, as a mentee who looked the other way; or Miss Annie conjuring up workings to make the kid fall squarely into his lap?

He had seen the papers and while Apocryphal Incorporated had shown him that he had been named in Bella’s Will as guardian, and that her granddaughter was to inherit her estate; there was a tug in his gut that warned him it all smelled far too funny.

The chances an old enforcer would name the son of the bastard who betrayed her family the guardian of, for all he knew, their last member?

Highly unlikely.

Barry’s hand itched to grip a cigar and his jaw clenched for something to chew on. He could feel the Excedrin wearing off and the beginnings of a dull throb as his head began to pound.

Well, he wasn’t going to get answers staring at the wall. So, with nothing else to do about it for the moment, he might as well figure out what to do about Lily’s things.

He looked at the box full of books and crouched down beside it. He nearly gagged as he caught a whiff. Cigarettes, roses, and... was that pachouli? He began to sift through the box. If was an adult smell in comparison to the softer scents that surrounded the kid. Probably from Mary’s, but she smelled more like dove soap.

From her potent reaction and the lingering stench, he felt safe betting it was Bella’s scent. He picked up the box and moved over towards the bed nightstand and its built-in shelves to put the books away.

Upon survey, most of the books were for younger readers. Clifford the Big Red Dog and the Bernstein Bears. A book about that weird Australian dog Bluey; Elio had complained little Marie had been crazy for the pooch, but had agreed that it was at least better than the classic, ‘Blue’s Clues.’

To his relief, additionally wary from his cousin’s complaints, he found nothing from Paw Patrol, and to his delight, found some older books from before the kid was even born, about Power Rangers.

As he dug even deeper, he found some books for older readers too. ‘Artemis Fowl’, a few volumes of ‘Animorphs’, and even a copy of ‘Bunnicula.’ The foul scent lingered heaviest on them.

He made a mental note that on the first warm day they got, he’d air them out. But as he reached the bottom of the box, he froze.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the magic at the fringes of his senses stirred to attention. Instinctually, he reached out with his left hand and hovered it above the final book. Vibration shook up from his fingertips to his shoulder and his arm tingled with paresthesia.

The magic excitedly pushed against his will, as though it found something familiar, like locating an old friend.

Barry took a deep, silent inhale and scowled. He looked at the book, thick and leather-bound with an unmarked black cover. It had a braided cord of blood-red twine wrapped around it. The corners were warped from being gripped and opened too many times. His lips pursed as he scrutinized it and using his left hand, picked it up. Power thrummed beneath his fingertips.

He collected the empty box, unceremoniously dumping it in the hall as he took a moment to look closer at the book. He began to unwind the twine wrap and then opened it to the first page.

‘Libro delle Ombre di Dante Costa’

Alarm bells went off in his head. Who the hell was Dante Costa? And what business did he have owning a grimoire?

He looked back at Lily. A relative? Maybe a parent?

He thumbed through the beginning pages and the magic felt like static electricity kissed his skin. The pain in his head worsened as the problem he was unable to unravel made itself more apparent.

He was still uncertain if this was Miss Annie’s doing or Bella Costa’s, but with the book’s appearance, he was leaning more towards the eldritch freak that he had a bargain with.

Something pulled at him to keep reading, and he shut the book outright in defiance. Hastily, he rewrapped the cord and tucked the book under his arm. The pull lessened its grip on him, but it had left the magic at his disposal now welled up in excitement. It wanted to be put to work.

Barry’s scowl deepened as he withheld the urge to channel it through this new catalyst. He, instead, turned his attention to the situation at hand.

If Lily might be triggered by each box they opened, then maybe it would be better to just have it done outright. Then they could change anything she didn’t like.

It was only day one, but they could figure out after, what worked. The unpacking might’ve helped processing, but he wasn’t sure he could handle her waking up and crying again.

Mind made up, he tossed his left hand in a flick and wave as he hissed, “Silently unpack her things in a way that ain’t gonna spook her once she’s awake,” and opened the gate on the magic to do his bidding.

The house went silent as it got to work. The was heater muted its hum as the temperature dropped a few degrees in the room. He was thankful Lily was in a hoodie with blankets on top.

The bedroom closet doors slid open. Drawers began to shift, and the cardboard boxes one by one began to unfold themselves to release the contents inside. He watched as clothes floated into the air and began to hang or place themselves in places Lily could reach; the dozens of stuffed animals that escaped created a line that was then used to build what he could only describe as a fort or a nest around her on the bed.

With an exhausted numbness, he watched the books rearrange themselves from the order he put them in, into an aesthetically pleasing rainbow.

The box of belongings quickly transitioned into decorations or painted figures on her bedside tables and shelves, and as her things sorted themselves out, his head pounded while he observed the cardboard boxes break themselves down once emptied.

The magic left all but one box unpacked.

He set the grimoire down on the bedside table to take a look at it, before he rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath at the words written on side of the box: Schoolwork.

He glowered as he peeled it open and found children’s workbooks, pencils, art supplies, and journals inside. He picked up the first book to get a better look at what he was dealing with, and his blood ran cold as he read the title.

‘A Parent’s Guide to Maine’s Homeschooling Laws and First Grade Homeschool Curriculum.’

His head was going to explode.

This was all just a bad dream, and he would wake up at any moment. He looked away from the schoolbook, willing for it to not exist with a set jaw and a firm belief.

He looked back, and with its big blocky letters, it denied him the reality he opined for.

He had reached his limit.

Barry dropped the book back into the box and picked the whole thing up to take with him. He jerked his head sharply towards the door and the broken-down cardboard boxes floated right out of the room as he followed carrying the last one filled with supplies. He tossed the grimoire into it.

Once everything was out and the sleeping child was all that was left inside, he flicked his fingers with his left hand again and the blinds snapped shut in response. The room turned off its own light, and he closed her bedroom door to a crack, so a sliver of light escaped inside.

Sleep well, Lills.

He quickly escaped back downstairs with a strong need for another round of Excedrin, a coffee, or maybe something stronger.

Was 11 A.M. too early to have a drink?

Once he arrived in his dining room, Barry dumped the box unceremoniously out onto the table. Pencils and elementary detritus cascaded out across its hardwood top. He put the grimoire to the side, the magic a little less restless now that it had been put to work recently. He gripped the tabletop and leaned forward, his arms spread wide as he ground his feet into the floor, breathed in deep, and forced a slow breath out of his nose.

He did it again to resist the urge to flip the whole god damned table full of kid’s school shit in an anxious rampage.

“Okay.” He growled aloud to no one in particular, “Okay.” He needed to refrain from thinking about this hysterically, and to start considering this like he was casing a joint, or getting ready a side op.

Barry looked up at the wall just to get his eyes off the situation below.

He needed data, facts, and further information. He hunched into his shoulders as he shifted weight on his hands. He then started to speak aloud so he could at least hear himself think, “Right, I need a list.”

The magic stirred once more as he yanked on it with orders, “Set up the office with a fresh notebook and pen. Throw the kettle on,” He needed the caffeine, and another round of migraine killer. “Turn on the laptop and pull up Mary’s email. I need to see what she can tell me on the kid’s upbringing, and what Bella was doing in Garnet Harbor.”

He licked his lips as he searched over the books, then reached over for the grimoire. He held it in the air, “Put this in the locked drawer, Lily doesn’t need to see this shit until we know what we’re dealing with.” An invisible force grabbed the book from him and quickly whisked it away.

Once more, the temperature dropped in the house, and he listened as things were put into motion. He could hear his office door unlock, open, and the unlocking of his desk. He watched as the kettle filled with water and was put on the stove top, which lit accordingly. He looked over to his plants in the windowsill and winced as they drooped a little at the cold. They would perk right back up once the magic stopped and the house warmed up again.

He busied himself with retrieving Excedrin from the medicine cabinet located in the guest bathroom underneath the staircase. Once taken, he prayed they kicked in quickly. With a glance into the cabinet though, he frowned as he realized one more thing in the wake of his new charge that he lacked.

Need to get kids medicines. Should probably update the first aid. He wondered if they still made hard rock candy vitamins, like the ones from when he was a kid.

The kettle began to whistle, and he abandoned the thought for the moment to attend to the stove. He quickly prepped his pour over with espresso coffee grounds and then settled as he poured the hot water into it while it sat over his mug. He gave it a few minutes to brew, before he settled a hand over the plunger and began to press it down.

He was interrupted as the doorbell rang.

He wasn’t expecting additional company.

He entertained ignoring it by just pretending he wasn’t there and that there wasn’t anyone to answer. That he was somewhere else, perhaps a tropical island, and that only the house itself could answer, ‘who’s there?’

It rang again, this time twice in succinct order. A pause. Then it rang a third time.

Barry cursed the familiar rhythm as he finished his pour over off. He grabbed the full mug and marched to the door with his shoulders squared and jaw clenched.

He undid the deadbolt and wrenched it open, then glowered immediately at his cousin Enzo who grinned at him from behind the glass door. He was in no mood to entertain the younger cousin this morning, given the shit show he had just gone through.

Enzo either didn’t catch his stare or decided to just ignore it. “Morning Baer.” He greeted, and Barry resisted the urge to slam the door in the massive man’s face.

Four years ago, Enzo had moved into one of the townhouses further down the block. Given his proximity, it wasn’t abnormal for his younger cousin to come by unannounced.

He just wished Enzo had chosen any other morning to come around. He turned his head slightly to listen for if the magic was still active and relaxed as he only heard the sound of the heater vent.

“Morning.” He managed curtly and tried to ignore the way his heart still pounded in his chest. He looked around his cousin, then back at him, “What’s up?”

“Oh, figured I’d swing by and say hi.” Enzo murmured as he looked up and down the street.

Barry schooled his face to hide his short fuse that was about to go off from the telegraphed ask. He took another deep breath, let it out through his nose quietly, and then stepped to the side, “Well then, come in. Just made coffee.”

Enzo perked up and let himself in. Once inside, he glanced at Barry with a smile, and then past him. His lips pursed, before they pulled into a frown.

“Hey, Barry?” Enzo asked as he looked back and gave Barry a once over, “Why’s there a bunch of kid shit on your table? It have anything to do with that weird nun and the little girl that swung by, earlier?” Barry choked on his coffee mid-sip and broke into a series of coughs. Enzo started to slap him on the back.

Once Barry caught his breath with a gasp, his blood then ran cold as ice when his cousin asked, “Also, why’s your sweater wet?”

Chapter 3

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I’ve pinched myself five times and felt nothing but this moment.

I look to you as you smile; but I know this is just a memory of who you had once been.

I tell you of the pain that you caused when in my life; and just for that moment, you actually listen.

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We were in Missouri on flood recovery when all operations transitioned to virtual due to the incoming pandemic. My folks had already shipped out, but other supervisors still had their own team’s areas to tear down.

While we were cleaning up old papers from a workstation, a small ceramic pot the size of my palm with ‘HUMAN,’ written on the side of it in crude letters, was dumped into my hands by a coworker who said, “Here, a gift for you.”

It had three pathetic, stringy leaves sticking out of it, and maybe a quarter cup of dirt.

I scrutinized it, then her, like she grew a second head, “You know I kill every plant I touch, right?”

She shrugged, “You never know.”

Our staff had called it a money tree. It wasn’t one.

It was a Chlorophytum Comosum. A ‘Spider Plant.’

Befuddled at what kind of name for a plant ‘HUMAN’ the money tree was; I renamed and gendered it as ‘Todd.’

Then begrudgingly, I took him back to my hotel room, estimating that his death would occur no later than by the end of the week.

But I underestimated him. Todd was a freak of nature; an addict for abuse, ready for everything I would throw at him. I would forget to water him and all he’d do is droop. I would flood him in response, and he’d thrive, growing three new leaves.

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His pot would begin to mold (which I would later learn was due to ceramic being porous when not sealed), and I’d dry him out once again. Then he’d bounce back like it was nothing on the first water; and new mold would occur like he had only changed outfits!

The cycle would continue: Dry, flood, mold the pot, repeat.

Human, scratch your head.

Todd, grow six more leaves.

My constant conflict on whether or not I could resuscitate this plant would inspire me to entertain the following: if I could keep Todd alive for at least a year, then maybe I could manage taking care of a pet.

So, I accepted that Todd, for whatever reason, was here to break my brown thumb streak, and got him a new pot to get rid of the mold. In the end, the little guy would ride with me over a thousand miles in a cup holder as I drove a one-way rental from Springfield, Missouri to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and on to a new life.

Eight months later, I adopted a cat named Maximus; because despite whatever I did, Todd continued to thrive.

So my chances of raising a cat in a happy, healthy home? Pretty good.

I still send my former coworker pictures of Todd now and then just to confirm, she was correct; I didn’t know jack shit.

I started gardening in its entirety though because the cost of fresh Rosemary pissed me off. So much so, that like Thanos, I decided I would take matters into my own hands and grow it myself.

Let me be first to say- I’ve never been so humbled. The cost of fresh Rosemary is well earned. To this day, I have managed to kill every single attempt I’ve made to maintain or raise that plant, and I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve tried.

They just don’t do well in apartment indoor pots under my grow lights and are notoriously easy to overwater.

Basil, I’ve learned, is actually the beginning herbalist’s best friend. While you can overwater it, it thrives in hydroponic gardens. Spider plants in turn, are the friendliest house plants around1, and grow lights come in all shapes, shades, and sizes.

The results of this success has birthed seven basil plants and over twenty spider plant Toddlings that have had to find new homes.

But as I’ve worked with these green menaces over the past six years, they’ve taught me a myriad of lessons that I’d like to share. Many people find plants hard, but I’ve found them to be extremely forgiving and great teachers when open to being philosophical enough.

Maybe you will too, after this.

The lessons below apply to my way of living and have directly reflected in aspects of my professional and creative endeavors.

They are as follows:

1. New Pot; Same Plant

2. Embrace Growth Being Ugly as Hell

3. Challenge is Part of the Eco System

4. Cut = Growth

5. Roots Can Get Lost

6. The Fruit is Never Immediate

So, if you’re down to read, throw on your gardening gloves or pick up your pen, and let’s dive into it.

New Pot; Same Plant

I have repotted Todd four times since 2020. At first, it was due to his growth. He simply got too big. Spider plants like to be root bound, but once he was tipping over, it just got sad.

Then it was a nutrients deficiency. After a while, it became both. Now we’re at pot five. He was slumping in his pot, in desperate need for a haircut, and his roots had taken up the majority of his confines.

I think it’s one of the reasons I like having Todd around. He reminds me that I’m not too different in how I grow. When something is new and I actively pursue it, I let it fill my time, my energy, and my world. It becomes part of me for that period, but once the pursuit is over and the newness has worn off; after a while, it all starts to feel old and things get cramped, much like a plant that’s outgrown its pot.

When I don’t keep growing, I start feeling like the world is passing me by, and I’ve become too stagnant to keep up with it.

Then after I’ve sat there and marinaded in it, I realize: It’s time for a new ‘_______.’

Then the cycle begins all over again. Identity shifts, new skills begin to grow, and along the way, I stop recognizing who I was a decade ago versus who I am today.

But for that moment just before; everything felt like nothing was changing at all.

I find repotting a plant is a lot like this process. Sure, you can shove it into something bigger and give it brand new soil and a pot, but things take time before it can start growing again.

For a moment, it simply has to exist and realign. Roots have to be re-established, new conditions adjusted too, and a new reality has to set in. You take everything with you from before into the now, but the new now requires a new you; and even if you’re the same, the newness around you will be enough to change.

And I just like something about that. So, it’s no wonder Todd made it all the way through to today.

Embrace Growth Being Ugly as Hell

When I first decided to wage war against the cost of Rosemary by starting my own apartment garden, it was because I live in a city and the opportunities to grow outdoor herbs and produce are limited.

In the city, if you don’t have a personal outdoor space, you are sequestered to a community garden if nearby; grocery stores and their probable price hike; or you’re about to eat an upfront cost for something that can live on your countertop or in a limited living space.

You can probably guess which of these I chose. Which with the magic of prose, I will now loop back to our plant-provided point.

Growth is not some magical wand waving where suddenly you’re good at a thing. It’s not even about being good at it, or your success.

Growth is every step you took to get to those things along the way. It’s every failure and lesson learned. It’s the journey; and it’s rarely ever admired until you reach the destination.

I lucked out with Todd; but every plant parent knows that out of every one you have, there’s at least two or three you killed in the process of learning how to take care of the one still alive; or something else took it out (which we will talk about in the next part).

However, a graveyard of failed attempts is better than to have never attempted at all. The lessons from failure start to set the conditions for success and how to thrive, while working through the reality of what you’re dealing with.

From an artistic and written perspective, I like to look at this as what I wrote when I began writing, versus what I write now. We may have loved Lord of the Rings fanfiction before we hit teen years, but now, we’re out here writing a mini memoir talking about being taught by plants to strangers.

… You know; that last part still has echoes of my love for Ents.

Either way; who says you can’t enjoy the process of discovery while failing? Give yourself the grace to embrace the mess, forgive yourself for being human and not great at everything all at once.

You’re going to have bigger struggles to worry about other than the antagonist living inside your head.

Challenge is Part of the Eco System

If an animal has more than four legs and doesn’t scream at me when it wants to eat or curl up in my lap while I’m trying to write, it has no business being in my home.

So, you can imagine how I feel when I see little fungal gnats fluttering around my live-in leafy dependents, laying eggs in their soil and chewing on their stems. My husband watches, endlessly entertained, as I become Doc Holiday in Tombstone with a bottle of anti-fungal insecticide, here to get those gnats fluttery asses right the hell off my Jalapeño plant.

But these pests while annoying, are doing what they’re supposed to. Pests are a sign there’s something wrong; or the environment and conditions just aren’t quite right.

In my aero garden or windowsill greenhouse, it typically means the water’s gone stagnant and the soil has been left moist for too long. It’s sat with a problem unattended.

Intervention is required; be it drying the plant out; a peroxide and water bath; bug killer, or if it’s too far gone and the little bastards have reproduced, throwing the plant right out before it can infect the rest because we don't have the space to quarantine.

I find challenges in life aren’t too different. Like the bugs, they’re going to be around as long as you’re alive. Be it a specific obstacle or person. Some you’ll grow from, some you’ll overcome, and some, you won’t. But you can always take it head on and confront it; begin counter measures to mitigate it; or remove yourself or it, from your situation.

If you don’t, at some point, it will start to infest the other aspects of your life outside of it.

While avoidance is sometimes the answer; it’s rarely a holistic solution.

Eventually, you’ll have to get through it.

Cut = Growth

In a world of skill development, building, and growth, it almost seems impractical to have a lesson in letting go.

I’ve found both plants and people are equally bad at this. Plants funnily enough are unable to cut it off before it’s too late. They will let the leaves on its vines rot, dry up, or die, before they fall to the ground and the pestilence that’s infected them moves on to the next portion of their stalk or branch.

Meanwhile, there’s always something in the human condition that makes letting go of some issues harder to release than others.

But with plants and life, sometimes, you just gotta shear that shit off at the pass.

It is generally accepted by the gardening community that if you cut a plant and remove at maximum a third or thirty percent of it- the plant will avoid going into extreme stress and can continue to grow. Anymore, and you’re going to hurt it. Ten to twenty percent is far safer, while thirty is the extreme.

But this lesson I find lives in that extreme.

Cutting your plants back can help remove diseased parts, pest food sources, and encourage additional growth. In the world of hydroponic gardening, you also have to monitor and prune root systems to ensure they don’t choke out less established seedlings and occasionally remove the beginnings of any root rot that may occur, to maintain the plant.

Once these cuts are made, the plant focuses energy and effort where these wounds have been created. It forms bushier leaves or will then establish stronger and healthier roots.

Connecting this with people, I can almost guarantee sometime in your life you’ve heard the words: ‘you need to let this go,’ and have been confronted with the fact it is not easy to just release something that’s been clung on to.

So sometimes, the only way to handle it is to cut that issue off at the pass, and accept leaving it for dead. Because if left attached and unattended, it takes up residence in your energy and mind and drags down everything you’re trying to achieve.

Once festered, it becomes a disease that takes on a whole life of its own2. It holds you back, and eventually, causes you to face an empowered psychic echo of the issue in its full avatar form; rather than the actual inciting incident itself.

Letting go, and just as importantly, healing from the inciting incident, is messy as hell. But a necessary step for moving forward without the weight of the mess that existed before a good pruning session or life change.

It’s never easy, but required to make peace and build a happier, healthier you.

So, prune that shit off, and enjoy life without the additional weight.

Roots Can Get Lost

Last summer, my mother stayed with my husband and I for the first week in August as she helped me navigate the first week of surgery recovery. We were resetting the apartment garden and beginning a seed tray after months of me struggling with it.

Together, we looked at a pot in my windowsill greenhouse with a single, tiny sprout poking out of it. It was surrounded by other pots full of big leafy greens that were already thriving, but it just couldn’t seem to take off even though it had good soil, water, light, and plenty of room to grow.

“Why isn’t it doing well?” I asked.

I had learned over the years that my mom when it comes to plants, often has the answer to all botanical and fungal inquiries.

She gave it a look and frowned, “That pot’s way too big for it.”

“How’s the pot too big? I thought it needed plenty of room to grow.”

She shrugged, “When plants are small like this, the roots can get lost when it’s too big, they don’t know which way to grow.”

In that moment- as motherly wisdom is wont to do, a new lesson nailed itself right into my mind.

Someone can have all the foundational elements for success; but if the problem is too big and their direction is lost; they’re still going to struggle and probably land right on their face.

When starting out, it’s very easy to see the bright and shiny goal, only to then get overwhelmed with what it will all take to get there. I tend to fall into this trap constantly, as I think about process by starting at the end, then get anxious over everything that’s all going to have to happen to reach my desired goal.

Much like sprouts breaking through the soil and coming into open air; there is only so much at the beginning you can control.

An idea is a seed, energy is provided via the soil, water, and light, and time provides the conditions to grow. But if there is no direction for that idea to run, and it’s not the right time or fit; the challenges to grow will be monumental.

But like a pot that’s too big- you can change it, readjust, and refine. As long as you keep adapting and working at it, you will find your way to thrive.

The Fruit is Never Immediate

When my heirloom Jalapeños grew and reddened last April, I was dumbfounded and surprised.

Suddenly, I was faced with the evidence that the countless hours of playing in the dirt, finetuning the aero garden, and cursing out Todd and every other plant I had grown in my apartment, had actually done something that I had intended, but never thought would occur, to have happened.

I had actually become a decent gardener.

If you had asked me back in 2020 when my coworker handed off that little spider plant called ‘Human’ to me, if I thought this was how it was going to go, I would have thought you were telling me a rather fantastical lie.

Because at most, my feud with herbal capitalism, my ever-growing spider plant population, and my constant supply with basil had all originated out of a small gift, and a very silly, juvenile joke and attempt at being self-sustaining.

But somehow, despite that, all that effort and time got me these red, little, inferno-hot divas, two cats that are the sweetest boys I could ever ask for, and an apartment full of plants that I am incredibly fond of.

They infect my creativity, from jokes about well-behaved basil taking over my apartment, to the reuse of old tea tins to make beautiful planters.

From Lord of the Rings fiction to a silly little essay written about life and plants.

Success isn’t immediate, but the gratification once its arrived is just so damn satisfying. Don’t try to predict its arrival; it will make itself apparent when the time is right.

2

I find Ghostie has an exceptional article conceptualizing how the inability to let go can proliferate into the psyche long after the issue or situation has occurred. The article cuts to the quick on why it’s so difficult to let go of things all together. I highly recommend giving them a read.

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Author’s Note: Thank you for giving me an excuse to babble about life and plants. This past Sunday while navigating a low, I was resetting my apartment garden for the summer and got sucked down a rabbit hole and memory lane. As I’m trying to make writing each day a permanent habit, I had to take a break from writing ‘Schoolwork and Cement Shoes’ to get my thoughts down on paper.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this article and that you were able to take something away from it. I would love to hear from you on if there are any hobbies that have taught you invaluable lessons in your own life, or if any of this resonated with you on your own journey through life.

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