Magical Spice - Part Nineteen
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
Oh my god, I’m turning into my dad, I think despairingly.
I only just now realized what I’m doing. Spending a bit of the afternoon sipping on coffee, and reading up on the local news.
I mean, I’m doing it out in my garden instead of in an armchair, on my phone instead of with an actual newspaper, and I’m not clicking my tongue disapprovingly every couple of stories the way my dad does - but still, this seems too close.
I started checking the papers regularly after the review of Bright Future came out, when I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything else that might be printed about the show. There was nothing else, not that any of us minded. The one little review we got was so great that Aunt Sarah framed it and put it up on her wall, much to Aiden’s blushing embarrassment.
I’m not sure why my habit of checking the paper stuck around after that. Maybe there’s only so long you can go on being friends with this many people in the local government before you start wanting to know a little bit about what’s going on. Besides, there’s usually something interesting going on, much to my surprise.
Given how tiny all the towns in this area are, our one local paper covers news from Ketterbridge, Greenrock, Port Sitka, all their outlying areas, and a few other tiny dots on the map that wouldn’t show up unless you scrolled all the way in. I usually skim-read the stories about other towns, but today something from Port Sitka has caught my eye.
A tiny throwaway story. From a few days ago, too. I must’ve scrolled further back than I realized.
SOUNDS LIKE A LONG SHOT TO US!
PORT SITKA - A local police officer caused a stir at the Port Sitka PD this weekend by claiming to have seen a ghost in the forest. Officer Nolan Long reportedly told his Chief and fellow officers that the ghost “rushed right at me like it was going to attack” and claimed that he “saw it clear as day”, though the sighting supposedly occurred sometime around midnight. Our source on the scene reports that Long was in a state of great distress upon his arrival back at the station.
“Officer Long is a recent graduate of the police academy and a new addition to our team,” Chief Sieler said, when asked for comment. “Not all rookies can handle the pressure of the job.” Chief Sieler went on to say that while he’s working to identify the Port Sitka PD staff member who leaked this report to the media - we’ll never tell! - he and Officer Long have mutually decided that it’s best for him to part ways with the Port Sitka PD. “We wish him all the best of luck in his next endeavors,” Chief Sieler said.
When asked if residents should be worried about ghosts in the woods, the Chief laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me that there are unicorns in these woods,” he told us, in a phone call on Monday. “Hell, maybe there are. It would make for good hunting, which you know we love here in Port Sitka. Season just opened, too!” On a more serious note, the Chief added, “I can assure you that there’s nothing out there, and that all officers currently on the force are in a perfectly sound state of mind. Don’t let this put you off the great hunting, fishing, and hiking opportunities the forest has to offer in the summer.”
Former officer Long could not be reached for comment. Nor could the ghost in the woods!
I look up from my phone, hearing the scrape of steel-toed combat boots on the mossy steps behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see who’s let themselves out into the garden, then raise my hand in a beckoning wave.
“Hey, Ralph! Come see this.”
He stops behind me, leans down over me to pluck my phone out of my hand. I give Tycho’s silky white ears a scratch of greeting, then glance up at Ralph in confusion as he hands me my phone back.
“No, I mean read the article.”
“I did read it.”
“What? That took two seconds!”
“None of it is exactly a surprise.” Ralph drops down beside me on the natural green floor of the garden, stretches himself out in the deep green shade of the willow tree. “What did you think the cops were gonna do, Jamie? Send someone out there for even five minutes to check out what their officer saw? Investigate it? Provide a service? The cops? Come on. You should know better.”
“I’m not talking about the part with the cops, although I see why that’s what you would focus on, Warlord.” I point to the part of the article where the officer was quoted. “I’m talking about the ghost that Nolan Long thinks he saw.”
Ralph pauses, then sits up on his elbows, one hand scratching Tycho’s back. He thinks about it more, then takes my phone back from me and reads the article again. I can tell he’s caught onto my line of thought even before he says -
“You think it was actually one of the illusions?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I set my phone down, turning this whole thing over in my mind. “Isn’t that the more likely option? There are no ghosts in Port Sitka, Aiden would have sensed them by now. We already cleared all the ghost memories, and Long wouldn’t have been able to see those, anyways. But the illusions have been pretty active since we went into the forest. And in the middle of all this, Long spots what he thinks is a ghost. In the forest.”
Ralph tilts his head to the side very slightly. “Seems like one hell of a coincidence, that.”
“It does.”
Ralph gives me an impressed look. “Was that actual brain activity I just saw from you, Jamie? Wow. Big day. Wish Aiden could’ve been here to see this.”
I swat his arm, indignant but also pleased at the compliment. “You think Nolan Long knows more than what the paper printed?”
Ralph twists his mouth to the side, his jaw muscles tightening. “I wouldn’t trust any man what likes the idea of a jackbooted version of himself.”
“Right, but clearly he wasn’t cut to be a cop, he was still a rookie and they already cut him loose. Maybe he’s one of the ones who actually thought he was serving his community by signing up. He risked telling the Chief about the ghost, even though he must’ve known how it made him sound. Maybe because he was worried it was dangerous…”
I trail off, realizing there’s a new notification on my screen. From a while ago, too.
“Oh, oops! I had my phone on do not disturb - do you mind if I listen to this voicemail real quick, dude? Just want to make sure it wasn’t something important.”
Ralph shrugs his shoulders and stretches out again on the shaded grass, drawing Tycho to himself. “Whatever.”
“It’s from a number I don’t have saved, that’s weird. Calla did something to my phone the last time we hung out, and since then I haven’t gotten any spam calls.”
“I love it when Calla borrows my phone,” Ralph admits, with a little grin. “It always comes back better. What’s the voicemail?”
I play the voicemail and put my phone to my ear, then quickly wrench it away with a startled wince. Whoever left me the voicemail must have held the phone way too close to his mouth, for his voice to be this sharp with noisy static.
I don’t recognize the voice, which sounds sick with anxiety and desperation, along with - humiliation, maybe? But I can make out the words in there, if faintly.
“Hello, I… I’m - I’m trying to reach the Ghost Office…” he begins, sounding like he’s cringing with every word. “I want to - report a - I’m not crazy, okay? You have to believe me, there’s a - there’s something… I’ve seen it, I saw it…”
He stops, then quickly hangs up. The line cuts off, taking all the static with it.
I lower my phone, then stare at it in bewildered disbelief until Ralph takes it and replays the voicemail, this time on speaker. His eyebrows shoot up as he takes in the words of the whispering, static-garbled voice.
“What the fuck?” I blurt out, when Ralph’s expression confirms I didn’t mishear anything. “How does anyone know about the Ghost Office? We haven’t even put up the one flyer we’re gonna post at the workshop!”
“Someone’s caught word of you,” Ralph says matter-of-factly. “And I’ve got a solid guess at who it was.”
I stare at him in uncomprehending silence, then let out a short laugh when I realize what he means. “No, come on, no way-”
“Think about it, Jamie. He told his superior officers, all they did was let the papers hear about it ‘cause they thought it was funny. Then they fired him, so now he can’t do anything about it. But he’s convinced he saw a dangerous ghost, and he’s the type who actually cares about keeping people safe. Right?”
I drop my thunderstruck gaze to my phone, then look up at Ralph as he pushes it back into my hands.
“Call that number back and see if I’m right,” he says, with total confidence.
He seems so sure that I don't even argue. I hit call and put my phone on speaker. It rings once, twice, three times, and then -
“Hello?”
Ralph and I instantly recognize the voice as the same one in my voicemail inbox, although this time the guy is speaking normally, without all the whispering and static.
“Hi!” I begin nervously, realizing all at once that I've never really had a phone call like this one before. “Is, um - is this Nolan Long?”
There’s only silence from the other end of the line, so I try: “My name is Jamie, I’m calling about the ghost that you-”
“Oh, I’ve had it with this - shit!” Long snaps, so angrily and forcefully that I nearly drop my phone. “Who put you up to this? Hanely? Grimm?”
“What?” My eyes widen in mounting alarm. “No, no! I-”
“Oh my gosh, I get it already! I’m a baby, I’m a mama’s boy, I’m an embarrassment! I get it! You tell them I’m already off the force and out of their way, so they can - they can stop messing with me! If I get one more of these calls I’ll kick your - I’ll - I’ll - just leave me alone!" There was an attempt at toughness in his voice before, but it wavers as he stammeringly adds, "I’m changing my number, by the way, and this phone will be off until then, so don’t bother calling back!”
Before I can get so much as a word in, he takes a shuddering, agonized breath, then adds despairingly - “You made me curse!”
The line cuts off with a sharp clatter, like he threw his phone instead of pressing the button to end the call.
I stare at my phone in blank shock, and Ralph presses a hand over his mouth.
“Aw, man,” he laughs sympathetically. “Guy’s that upset by swearing? His own swearing? Yeah, he - was never gonna make a cop.”
“Oh no!” I wail, horrified. “Ralph! He didn't realize it was the Ghost Office, he thinks I was calling to make fun of him - I made him curse!”
Ralph's eyebrows furrow in faint confusion. “So fucking what?”
“He doesn’t like to! Obviously!”
“Who cares?”
“He does!”
“Oh my god, dude.” Ralph sits up in alarm, catching my expression, and Tycho comes over to worriedly lick my face. “Okay, relax, relax! It’s fine! We’re gonna go help the sorry bastard out anyways, aren’t we? Clear up his so-called ghost problem for him?”
“I - I guess, yeah…” I give Ralph a pleading, hopeful look. “That should make it up to him, right?”
Ralph widens his grey-green eyes at me incredulously.
“Yeah, Jamie, if we win a war against an out-of-control magical illusion that can tamper with minds and consciousness for him, that ought to make up for you accidentally making him curse that one time.”
I let out a relieved breath, nodding my head. “Okay. Cool. I would have felt really bad, otherwise.”
Ralph stares blankly at me, then glances over his shoulder as the sound of heavy footsteps drifts across the garden to us.
“Aiden,” Ralph says, looking amazed, “Your cupcake has rendered me speechless.”
“He does that to me all the time,” comes the rich sound of a deep, deep voice.
Ralph gets up as I twist around to smile up at Aiden. He's still in his work clothes, buttons undone at the collar, sleeves turned up to his elbows, chestnut hair windblown after the walk home from the bus stop. He leans down to give me a kiss of greeting, briefly enveloping me in the warm, old-paper fragrance of the Archives.
“I assume you know not to wear your combat boots to go hiking,” Aiden tells Ralph, straightening up again. “Other than that, you all set for tomorrow?”
“Mhm. Just came over to leave Tycho here so she can get picked up later. Tell your aunt thanks for watching her.”
“Believe me, she’s happy to see this lil’ face again.” Aiden leans down to accept some love from Tycho, cupping her muzzle in his hands. “And you’re not quite big enough yet that I’m worried about you knocking my aunt over. Getting there, though. Damn.”
Tycho has definitely grown. She’s already lost most of her puppy chubbiness. She’s starting to get bigger and sleeker, her puffy white and silver fur starting to lay flat and smooth. Those ridiculous, enormous paws are starting to look not so ridiculous in proportion to the rest of her body. They're only slightly ridiculous, now.
“She really is starting to look like a wolf,” I observe, as Tycho squirms around on her back in the warm grass. “How big is she actually going to get?”
Ralph shrugs his shoulders. “Floyd found her by the side of the road, so… I have no idea. Got no information to go off of. Soon she’s gonna be too big to sleep in the bed with me and Calla, though. She’s gonna have to learn to love the dog bed.”
“Have fun explaining that to her,” Aiden laughs, and Ralph groans softly, like he already knows it’s going to be bad.
Ralph heads out shortly after, off to go get some rest before our camping trip tomorrow. Taking with him a few of the flaky, honey-drizzled peach and brie pastries that Aiden baked yesterday. Leaving Tycho to sit just inside the door for an hour or two, as she does whenever he leaves her anywhere. Aiden drops to sit down just behind me in the garden, then folds his powerful arms softly around me.
He laughs when I tell him about my fears of becoming my dad.
“Hey, Marcus isn't a bad one to turn into, putting aside the dad jokes. But I actually think you’re becoming more like your mom, Keane. When I helped her out with those errands the other day, literally everyone we interacted with was stoked to see her." Aiden sweeps out one hand as if to say there are endless examples to choose from. "Stay and have a coffee on the house, Mary. Try this pastry. Have a sunflower. We saved this hat for you to try on.”
“Oh, they’re all her friends,” I laugh affectionately. "She's helped all of them out with something or other at some point."
“I know,” Aiden murmurs warmly, pressing a kiss onto the curve of my neck. “That’s what I mean. You’re like her.”
A pleased smile turns up my mouth as I lean back into Aiden's arms. Full of love for him, a golden haze of happiness in my chest. Still leftover from how everything went down when my memories were messed up.
I haven't exactly caught Aiden trying to work his thoughts out with poetry, but I think he’s been quietly struggling to understand what happened, too. I walked into our bedroom early this morning to find him doing something I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him do before. He was standing motionless in front of the mirror, taking a long, hard look at himself. Gazing deep into his own eyes.
But when I asked him what he was doing, he said - Thinking about you.
I trail my fingertips over his knuckles, inhaling vetiver, savoring the sensation of his warm hand pressed flat against my sternum. His fingers smell faintly of the fresh peach lemonade he made, another of our attempts to gather up and put all the ripening fruit to use.
Last weekend our sunlit kitchen smelled like peaches all day long. Aiden made peach syrup and baked peaches, peach-spiked iced tea and frozen peach slushies. Sliced peaches that he can grill later, peach salsa, peach jam, peach ice cream. He was at work all day, while I set up boxes and crates of it all for basically everyone we know. The kitchen was a wreck afterwards. By the time we finished cleaning it up we nearly fell asleep leaning against each other, taking lazy breaths of the slow, warm summer air while all the pots and pans cooled off and drip-dried around us.
Despite our best efforts, the land around our house is still overwhelmed with the richness of the harvest. There’s so much I’m not sure we could ever eat through it all. I don't even think we've made a dent. I can almost hear the trees around us silently at work, already ripening more.
"I'm thinking of handing out some free peach pastries at the shop," I laugh helplessly. "Lure some customers in for Kent."
I can hear the smile in Aiden's voice as he twists a finger into my hair. “How was the shop today?”
“Good! My thumbs are sore.”
Aiden breathes out a soft laugh, then falls into expectant silence, waiting for me to tell him everything about my day. I do, ending by playing him the voicemail that Nolan Long left for the Ghost Office.
“No way," he sputters, when it comes to a stop.
“Yep. Team Ghost Office has been officially called in, even though - I’m not sure that means anything? We were gonna go take care of it anyways. Cool to get the request, though, right?" I hesitate, wincing anxiously. "Even if it, um. Went very badly on the phone. Ralph said it was fine, though, because we’d handle it. We are going to handle it, right?”
“Yes,” comes the answer from Aiden, in a swift, firm, calm voice.
“I think we can, maybe, if we just - oh.” I stop mid-sentence, caught by surprise. “Okay. Cool.”
I turn my head to see Aiden with one of those signature heart-breaker smiles quirking up his lips. I think he is a little nervous, but not enough that's it showing. His eyes are two tranquil lagoons in the fading sunlight, warm and shadowy.
“Do you mind if we get to sleep early tonight, then?” He stands up, drawing me to my feet, then leads me across the garden. “I want to be fully charged up on magic before we go.”
I lift my eyebrows in surprise. “You’re - planning to use your magic?”
“Not planning on it,” Aiden says calmly, stopping to pet Luna where she’s perched in the window sill. “I want to be ready just in case, that's all.”
That’s still a pretty different thing from using magic purely as a last resort. I smile stupidly and proudly at his broad back as he releases my hand.
He briefly disappears through the kitchen door, then reappears framed in the open kitchen window. I stay where I am in the garden so I don’t track mud inside. Fidgeting with sudden shyness as Aiden leans out through the kitchen window to softly kiss my lips.
Sure, we can go to sleep early, I manage once he draws back, leaving his fingers wrapped around mine. I can barely find my words after that sweet little kiss, and I have to rely on the connection to speak. I still have some work to do in the kitchen garden while you cook dinner, though. If you want fresh veggies and herbs to work with, that is.
He smiles, squeezes my fingers. .باشه عشقم
I blink hard at Aiden, who gently lets me go and gets some butter sizzling in a pan on the stove.
“I - what was that, Sugar Maple? What did you say?”
Aiden pauses, glancing up at me with his eyebrows furrowed, then suddenly seems to realize what he said. He huffs out a soft, pained laugh, tilts his head back in an agonized way.
“Oh, wonderful." He heaves out an enormous sigh, chopping up some garlic. "You’re asking me if you’re turning into your dad, and here I am turning into my aunt. Right from her, that’s what that was.”
A startled laugh escapes from me. "Wow, Callahan. You're still wildly full of surprises, considering we're coming up on our one-year anniversary."
"Whatever." Aiden breathes out a helpless laugh, hanging his head over what he's doing so he doesn't have to meet my eyes. "Look who's talking, man."
I break into a bright, adoring grin, then lean my shoulder against the window frame as I pull on my gardening gloves. “Shit, I love you so much. Forget what you’re doing and come hang out in the garden with me.”
“I - okay,” he laughs, blushing a little. “That means I can’t start dinner, though. And did you want me to make camping pancakes when we’re out in the forest? Because I need to mix up the dry ingredients and put it all in a jar if you do. That was also on my to-do list for tonight.”
“Oh.” I let out a regretful sigh. “I didn’t realize the pancakes were on the line. Still…”
“I was gonna put M&M's in yours, too.”
“Yeah, okay, nevermind. The pancakes get priority. Also whatever you’re cooking right now is already starting to smell good, so. I guess dinner takes priority, too.”
Aiden smiles warmly at me, then hands me something through the window. An old garlic bulb from our pantry, which went unused and started to sprout. I cradle it in my hands, examining it carefully. Looks hopeless as it is, but there’s room for it in my kitchen garden. It’ll grow there.
“What are you making for dinner?” I ask, mostly so I can linger near my Companion Plant a little longer.
“Pulled pork with oranges and chiles. I figured you want a break from peaches.” He flashes me a warm, swift look through the window. “Even you must hit a point where everything is too sweet.”
No, I think, looking into Aiden’s beautiful blue eyes. Apparently I have no limit on that.
Want to leave a comment? I would love it if you did, and you can do so on the Tapas episode!