Cursed [Book 1] ✔

Chapter 3: Good Ol' Scary Boo Bees

The few weeks I promised to stay evolved into a few months. As the third month loomed ahead, I knew I needed a job. Fortunately for me, Rafe owned a costume shop. He dropped various hints about the upcoming Halloween season and how busy he got. Ever since our last encounter, I avoided the hell out of him. Somedays the black emptiness still screamed in my head. Childhood friend or not, he scared me.

My lack of funds scared me in another way.

As though aware of my desperation, Rafe called to speak with Estelle. After a few minutes of small talk, my mom handed me the phone without warning me who was on the line.

"So I heard you still need a job," he said.

"Um, sort of," I said, glaring at my mother.

I ran over a list of credible excuses: a cooking fire, Estelle spasming through a heart attack, a pressing case of diarrhea...

"Well, you're welcome to work at my costume shop. Retail isn't exactly thrilling, but what job is?"

His attempt at humor was lame. "Hmm, neat. I think I'll just keep looking around. If I don't find anything in a few days, I'll give you a call."

Rafe caught my hesitation and misinterpreted it: "Look, if I said something at the wake to offend you..."

"No, no, it's not you," I lied, "I'm picky is all. That, and I have diarrhea," I added.

An awkward stillness filled the airwaves.

"All right. Feel better," he said. "Uh, think about my offer."

Newspaper after newspaper, application after application, I met with rejection. My qualifications were either overstated, or not ample enough. Calling Rafe back was the first and last thing on my list. Finally, I forced myself to dial him. If anything, his black future translated into the unknown, and that's how regular people lived anyway. My fear was rooted in what I couldn't anticipate, and I decided it was safe to move forward.

While I was on the phone, my mother overheard and prompted me to invite him for dinner. He asked about my digestion issues, and I assured him the plumbing was clear. In between chuckles, he promised to show.

For the most part, I pushed food around on the plate while listening to Rafe and Estelle laugh over this and that. As she passed around a basket of rolls, my mother casually mentioned my lackluster job search. Rafe was more than happy to help, a conspiratorial wink sealing his promise. He jotted down an address and advised me to swing by the next morning for training.

My first day at his costume shop was semi-fun, despite any apprehensions about the boss. He had cleverly titled his store Scary Boo Bees.

Though it was July, the store was decorated in full Halloween style. A display of "Wizard of Oz" costumes, filled the windows at the front, each mannequin dressed and positioned to mimic the 'follow the yellow brick road' scene. It was a painful reminder to my past, and it made me loathe the thought of working with Rafe even more than I already did.

As I drifted inside, I noticed the display in the opposing window. Another mannequin posed mid-stride, but as the Wicked Witch. Large trees surrounded her, with a black backdrop and twinkling lights. Stuffed monkeys danced around their sovereign, wings glued to their backs, blood dripping from their furry mouths. If the creator had been aiming for cute, they'd missed that exit and crashed into disturbing.

Inside the store, cobwebs, spiders, and skeletons hung from the ceiling. Wherever I stepped, a motion-activated goblin or ghoul inquired about my Halloween plans. Finally, I spied the back room. The closer and closer I got to the plastic doors, the more an odd sound could be heard playing above the soundtrack of maniacal laughs, boos, and ahhs. I looked around the back room, forced to concede that the sound didn't belong to the person. Rather, it came from outside, an off-beat clomp clomp clomp.

An open loading dock revealed the outside scenery: a dumpster, a metal fence, and row after row of trees. A brown and white blur darted in between the trees. Maybe a deer, or a horse, and most assuredly the source of the clomp clomp clomp. I didn't get a chance to investigate because Rafe appeared at the bay door before I stepped outside.

"Morning," he shivered and zipped up his jacket.

"Morning. What were you doing out here?"

He held up a few cardboard boxes. "Taking out the trash. Come join me."

I grabbed a stack of boxes piled near the door and followed him out to the concrete platform leading to the dumpster.

"It's funny. I thought I heard a noise."

Rafe took the boxes from me. "Like what?"

"I dunno."

"Well, it's just me out here." The quiet outside was different than the multitude of voices chattering away inside. I scanned the parking lot and the woods beyond, searching for a sign of the mystery animal. There was no obvious disturbance in the foliage or anywhere else.

"Never mind," I said.

"Okay then. Let's go inside, and I can show you how to pack out freight."

"Freight?" He was making up terms now.

"Merchandise," he clarified.

"Oh right, sorry. I forgot to study up on my retail terminology before I got here."

"Yeah, I can tell, amateur." Rafe's easy grin teased out a smile of my own.

Falling back into our easy banter chipped away at the wall I had put up. We re-entered the store, and I had to remind myself not to let my guard down. I could not trust Ahote.

While he trained me, I emotionally and physically distanced myself. Charm radiated from every pore in his body, but still, I resisted. I was short with him to the point of being rude. Like a gentlemen, he ignored my curtness and gave me space. I was grateful he received the message.

At the end of the day, Rafe showed me how to recover (or clean) the store, aisle by aisle. As we worked, he initiated polite conversation, but my non-committal answers discouraged him so that he gave up.

Half-an-hour later, we finished and readied to leave. When he asked me if I needed a ride home, I lied and told him my mother was picking me up from the coffee shop across the street. Walking home would be a lot less awkward than being alone with him in a car for twenty minutes. He locked up the front door, looking up in time to see my grimace at the Dorothy display. My disdain was front and center, but if he thought anything of it, he kept it to himself.

~*~

A/N: So, Imogen's kinda mean. Rafe offered a job and friendship, and she needs to calm down some. Will she? Probably not :D

Before moving on to the next chapter, hustle on over to NinaHarling1's profile, where you'll find some beautiful poetry, like Wolf:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/59956438-~~~wolf~~~