By Sharon J. Clark
Dan McKnight knew what his next customer wanted: strawberries, her favorite fruit. The familiar woman stood before him, wrapped in a scarlet cloak as though she’d stepped out of a pre-Raphaelite painting.
“Hi, Cathy. I’ve picked a punnet just for you.” He lifted his selection from the display between them.
She licked her lips. “They look perfect, but I have no money.”
“No money? Are you in trouble?”
“Money is so… transitory, don’t you think?” She smiled brightly. “I have something better to offer: a poem of blessing for your delicious strawberries.”
Dan shook his head. “You can have them on the house.”
Cathy produced a paper scroll from her cloak. “You’re too kind, but I cannot accept that. Please, take this blessing as payment.”
Dan didn’t give much truck to new-age mumbo jumbo. But hey, if it meant Cathy would accept a freebie, he’d set his personal beliefs aside.
Taking the scroll, he peered at the strange script as he unrolled it. The blessing was written in pinkish-brown ink. At least he hoped it was ink. The shade was uncomfortably reminiscent of dried blood.
“What language is this?”
“Elvish,” she replied, as though the answer was perfectly normal.
“And where did you learn that?”
“From my mother.”
Before he could ask anything more, she took the fruit and hurried from his store.
Dan pinned the blessing on the noticeboard near the inside door of his greengrocery. He thought nothing more of it until his wife, Jennifer, was balancing the books at the end of the month.
“Takings are up,” she said. “Last month we were sliding into the red, but now we’re back in the black.”
“That’ll be the elvish blessing I was given.” Dan smirked. “I put it on the noticeboard as a good luck talisman.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in stuff like that.”
“I don’t, but… well, takings are up, aren’t they?”
“Mumbo-jumbo,” Jennifer muttered, and refocused on her figures.
***
Dan was elated that the upswing continued. Two months on, there was finally enough money to buy Jennifer a car of her own. She hated using the shop’s delivery van for personal trips. A bright red Fiesta would suit her perfectly.
Then, late one afternoon, a red-cloaked figure stepped into the store.
“Cathy, it’s been a while.” Dan reached for a punnet of strawberries, only to realize the customer was an older woman. She radiated classic beauty, and when she spoke, her voice was a warm caress.
“I’m not looking for fruit,” she said. “There’s something… otherworldly here.”
Dan shook his head. “Sorry, I’m a greengrocer. Out-of-season strawberries from Spain are as otherworldly as it gets.”
The woman turned toward the noticeboard. “There. I see it.”
She unpinned the blessing. “My daughter’s handiwork. I’ve come to offer you an exchange.”
“You’re Cathy’s mother?”
“Yes, although in my realm she has another name.”
“Umm…” Dan didn’t know how to respond. Was she an elf? No, that was crazy. He focused on the blessing. “Please, take it. On the house.
“Such an item cannot be simply given away. Nor can it be bought or sold.”
“Cathy swapped it for strawberries.”
“Foolish child. Her passion for your sweet fruit has set us on a path we must now walk in its entirety.”
“What?”
The woman withdrew a small leather pouch from inside her cloak and placed it on the counter.
“Dried rowan berries from Avalon. They protect against death.”
“Really?” Dan picked up the pouch and shook the contents into his palm. “Look quite ordinary to me.”
“Do we have a deal?”
He gestured at the scroll. “It’s all yours, lady.”
She rolled the paper and slipped it beneath her cloak. “Keep the berries safe. One day you will exchange them for something of far greater worth.”
“If you say so.”
He opened the cash register and tucked the pouch at the back of the drawer.
***
Three months later, a third red-cloaked woman visited Dan’s store. Another of Cathy’s relatives, he figured. Perhaps a grandmother, judging from her hunched back and lined face.
“I believe you have some dried rowan berries,” she said.
Dan was about to deny it, but then he remembered the pouch in the cash register. Retrieving it, he offered it to her.
“Here, please take them.”
“I would offer you an exchange.”
He sighed. “Look, lady. I’m done with exchanges. I traded strawberries for a blessing, and for a brief few weeks, my store had record takings. I even bought a car for my wife. Then I foolishly swapped the blessing for these berries, and everything returned to normal.”
“Did my daughter not explain the purpose of her visit?”
“There was some mumbo-jumbo about eating strawberries and a pathway. What’s with the red cloaks by the way?”
“The women of my family walk a path of salvation—one designed to foil dark magic. The cloaks protect against unseen evil. Now, I offer you the life of a loved one for the berries. Please, accept the exchange.”
“The life of a loved one? Sounds spooky.” Dan pushed the pouch toward her. “I accept. But count me out of your weird shenanigans from now on. I’d rather sell potatoes and onions.”
The woman tucked the berries away. “As you wish.”
***
The following morning, Dan was weighing apples for a customer when his mobile rang.
“Dan, this is Sergeant Mason. Jennifer’s had a car accident.”
Dan’s stomach twisted violently. “Is she…?”
“She’s fine, but it’s a miracle, considering the state of her car. Even stranger, she’s covered in strawberry pulp. Crazy, right?”
Strawberries. Rowan berries. Elvish blessings. Dan was way beyond passing judgement on normality.
“I’m on my way,” he said.
As he hurried to fetch Jennifer’s coat, he was not surprised to find it missing from the cupboard. In its place hung a scarlet cloak.
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