By Tracy Erler
“Never let crime lords get bored,” Ethel instructed her cat, Fresco.
The fluffy feline blinked his blue eyes. “Why?” a robotic voice projected from the small box attached to his collar.
“They always want more.” Her brain pieced together the words as if she were setting type, her raspy voice printing them out once satisfied.
Of course she’d known about their desire to expand, but to different worlds? Are they mad? There are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed. These thoughts also appeared on the pages of the thin notebook lying on her pillow.
This notebook captured everything Ethel was thinking when it was open, which it often was because it saved time on notetaking, but… It would be nice if some thoughts stayed in my head. She frowned as this thought also appeared on the page. Thankfully, notes could be deleted or saved. One could never be too careful with crime lords for parents.
Fresco walked across the paper-strewn desk: a picture of a smiling older woman, wispy white hair framing her face, a dainty beaded sea-glass necklace around her neck; newspaper clippings read “Missing!” and “Returned!”; an upcoming author event flier. All from the file of her latest target: Miriel Takkenridge, the author of the novel Ethel was currently reading.
The protagonist and the author had remarkably similar life events with their mysterious disappearances and returns. Ethel’s parents had tasked her with researching any validity to this fictional tale now penned almost twenty-five years later.
Those beads look familiar. Ethel pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.
She loved researching her targets, fitting the puzzle pieces of their life together to see who they were and how they operated, but at what cost? Sleep didn’t come easily these days. “How will I do my job across realms?” Maybe it’s time to retire?
She skimmed the bio on the back of the novel. The phrase “owner of Searock Grove Books” snagged her attention. She shoved her glasses back on and yanked the event flier off the desk. The bookstore shares a name with the town Takkenridge supposedly saved.
“Why name a real-life bookshop after a fictional town?” She pondered as she studied the author’s smiling face.
No one in my family smiles like that. Except for maybe her chess partner Henry, Ethel had never known anyone to be truly genuine… What would that be like?
***
Ethel pushed up the bridge of her glasses, blinking at the bright lights of Searock Grove Books. How did I let Takkenridge hand me this? She scowled at the lemon blueberry scone.
Limping to the table in the corner, she passed a large St. Bernard making puppy eyes at the gathering crowd. Fresco’s head popped out of Ethel’s carpet bag, and the massive dog turned in their direction. Ethel’s frown deepened.
“I hope that look isn’t for me,” said a stocky gentleman in a frayed corduroy jacket at the table.
“Henry. You’re early.” Her eyes darted to his scone.
“And you’re frowning at a pastry. If we’re sharing observations about each other,” he quipped.
Ethel hadn’t rolled her eyes in years; she wasn’t some angsty teenager. Henry knew better than to tease her.
“Well, go on then.”
Since Henry had already tasted his, Ethel pinched off a bite.
“Delicious, isn’t it?”
She resisted the urge to lick the icing from her fingertips. “Yes.”
Henry clapped his hands in delight and began setting up the pawns. “Why did you bring your cat?”
“Animal friends are welcome.”
Henry watched Fresco sniff at the St. Bernard, lying just a few feet from them. “I’m not sure ‘friends’ is what those two are. Ah, so that’s the author? She looks…”
“Like she doesn’t belong in this world,” Ethel muttered. What is wrong with me today?
Henry’s eyebrows rose. “You feeling all right?”
“I’m fine.” She looked at the board. “Shall we?”
***
“And you still managed to beat me. Good game,” Henry congratulated her, tipping an imaginary hat. He ambled across the room toward the author.
Ethel glanced out the window, rubbing her sternum; something felt lodged there.
“Excuse me?” a woman said as Fresco jumped into Henry’s abandoned chair.
Ethel met the gray eyes of Miriel Takkenridge briefly before focusing on the target’s necklace. “Yes?”
“Have we met before? Matteo’s obsessed with your cat. He usually reserves that for kittens.”
The St. Bernard lumbered up to the table. Ethel’s brain catalogued the matching beads dangling from his collar.
Miriel reached a hand toward the cat. “He’s beautiful. What’s his name?”
“Fresco.” She cleared her throat. “I rescued him.” Why did I share that?
As the feline moved to a patch of sunshine, Miriel sat. “I rescued Matteo too.”
Ethel fiddled with the end of her braid, her mind racing. This wasn’t the plan; it was too early to make contact.
“I love your outfit.” Miriel gestured to her pinstripe vest.
What would it be like to know a sincere human? The question seeped into her mind. “You sound like you write.” The words fell out of her mouth.
Miriel’s smile lit her face, matching her photo. “Thank you…”
“Ethel.”
“Thank you, Ethel. I can tell we’re going to be great friends.”
“How?”
“Call it intuition,” replied Miriel.
***
Friend? I’ve never had one before. Back in her room, Ethel ruminated on Takkenridge’s words.
Fresco scratched his collar and Ethel reached for the clasp; the voice box was in the early stages of production, and he was still adjusting. As she turned it off, she saw a bead that matched Takkenridge’s and Matteo’s. “Where did that come from?”
Ethel’s brain whirled, puzzle pieces linking: The bookstore and the town. Same name. Takkenridge and her dog. Same beads. Matteo’s obsession with Fresco.
“Have Fresco and Matteo met in Searock Grove before today?”
Another thought piled on top: Am I really about to choose this woman over my parents?
“We will have to stay three steps ahead.” Ethel pulled on her black peacoat. “See you soon, Fresco.”
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lol, i’m so socially awkward. When Miriel’s says “Thank you…”, Ethel understands that she is asking for her name, and responds correctly. Me, I don’t pick up on those subtle clues, I would have just said “You’re welcome” and then started talking about dinosaurs.
Haha that would have been a funny line! Thanks for reading!
Great line, “…rubbing her sternum; something felt lodged there.” Great job Tracy, fun read!
Aww thank you! I loved that line too. Thanks for reading!
I loved the twist you took on Ethel, as well as her interactions with Henry and the way you worked two Havok characters into the story—that was so fun to see!
I love it!! Can’t wait to see who Ethel chooses- family or friend.
Thank you for reading it!
Ethel vs. Miriel–interesting clash!
That was a fun exchange between Ethel and Henry! Curious where the story goes from here.