Page 1 of Horn in My Side
Chapter One
JASMINE
Jasmine Gonzalez heaved a long drawn-out breath as she surveyed the daunting task ahead of her.Then again, completing daunting tasks was her specialty.
This particular one, however, required the use of a ladder or for her to be about seven feet tall, neither of which she had, or was right now in this moment.
She chomped at her lower lip, staring up at the looming sign atop the large bay window.The letterThad come loose and hung upside down, dangling from a single nail at the base, so it currently read “Fantastic ails and Magical Scales Pet Shop.”
It was tempting to leave it be, as there were about a million other things that needed fixing inside the shop—the kelpie-tank filters had to be replaced soon, the pens required a locking-spell refresh, thePOSsystem (which was probably older than her) was long overdue for an upgrade—and on and on.
Normally, she could call on the owner of the shop to make small repairs, like fixing the sign, or to purchase supplies like ladders, but he had recently passed away.Vrig had been an elderly orc, who’d hired Jasmine as a cashier almost five years ago whenshe was new in town and had no experience with either magical pets or working in retail.He’d been a kind boss, as well as her landlord, as he’d offered her the tiny apartment over his garage at a rent that was way below market prices and the place was only a ten-minute walk away from the store.
Vrig had taught her everything he knew, from learning how to handle newly hatched basilisks to predicting when the phoenixes were about to regenerate.She’d come to love the work and caring for all the magical creatures at Fantastic Tails, but her favorite part of the job was matching clients with the perfect pet.Vrig had said she was a natural at it, and for the first time in her life, Jasmine had found something she was truly good at.It worked out for Vrig as well, because over time he had given her more duties, and spent less time at the store, often letting Jasmine open up in the morning and close up at the end of the day.
She, too, enjoyed the increased responsibilities and decision-making powers on the business side of the shop.Vrig seemed happy to allow her to take on more work and even gave her a modest pay bump and a promotion from cashier to manager, though that was more ceremonial as she was his only employee.Still, she loved her routine at the shop, her cozy apartment over Vrig’s garage, and even this quiet little town.For the first time in a long while, she was content to stay in one place, something she hadn’t felt since she and her father had left their tiny town in the Philippines to move to the United States when she was twelve.
The last five years working at Fantastic Tails had gone by so quickly, she barely noticed it.Heck, she didn’t even think about what was to come next, enjoying her life day to day, never worrying about tomorrow—at least, not until Vrig had died.
He was gone now, and she was still here.Truly, she could have left—should have left—when he passed away, but there was no one else to take care of the store and she just couldn’t leave the creatures in the shop, not when the authorities were still trying tofind Vrig’s next of kin to sort out who would inherit his estate.Up until his death, she’d been running the entire operation anyway, so she decided to stay on and figure out what to do, at least until everything was sorted out.As far as she knew, Vrig had never married nor had any children, and had never spoken about siblings or other relatives, so she couldn’t provide the authorities with any information.That had been three weeks ago and she hadn’t heard anything from the administrator appointed by the probate court since.
Jasmine swallowed the lump in her throat.Some days, she still expected him to come walking in, all smiles as he greeted her, usually bringing her a to-go cup from the coffee shop down the street.Despite his appearance—seven feet in height, shaggy white hair, green skin, sharp tusks—Vrig had been a gentle and kind soul, not only to her and the customers, but to the animals in the shop.There were times when she would even forget he was gone.She’d get an idea and would walk over to the back office where he was usually holed up, then stop halfway, remembering she would never see him there, crouched in front of his computer, glasses perched on his face, always ready to help with some repair or to answer a question she had about a new creature.
His loss left a huge crater in her chest, but at the same time it reminded her of what was to come.It was like waiting for the proverbial axe to fall, wondering day in and day out if some long-lost relative of his would come sweeping in, take over the shop and his house, and kick her out of her apartment.
Of course, there was the option of buying the shop and running it.The thought of it had become more and more appealing since Vrig had died.However, that would mean being tied down for the next few years or so, not to mention the huge financial commitment of taking on a loan.That, of course, would all hinge on Vrig’s heirs wanting to sell to her.It wasn’t just the business Vrig had owned, but the building and land itself, which wasprime property as it was located right in the middle of Main Street.They could shut down the shop and sell everything for an enormous profit and Jasmine would not be able to do a single thing about it.
But there was no use worrying about that, because there were other pressing matters she had to deal with, such as the one right in front of her.
Or rather,literallyhanging over her head.
If Vrig were here, she wouldn’t need a ladder, as he was tall enough to fix the sign.Heck, he could use magic to simply put it to rights.
But he wasn’t here, and it was all up to her.
Jasmine drummed her fingers on her arm.She would leave it be for now, but she didn’t wantanothersternly worded letter from the Dewberry Falls Main Street Business Association.The board was all about keeping the town’s commercial hub immaculate and pristine, so as to attract customers and keep property values high.She could not afford to get on their bad side, not after the last incident that had gotten her a first warning.
“It wasn’t my fault those mini cockatrices got out of their pens,” she grumbled to herself.
And she had chased all three of the escaped jailbirds up and down Main Street, and thankfully wrangled them back into the shop before they could seriously harm anyone.Since they were the mini variety of cockatrice, their gaze couldn’t kill anyone, but it was enough to leave Alice Vanderpelt in a coma for twelve hours.
No, this definitely had to be fixed now.Martha Goodeheart, who served as chairman of the board, was justitchingto serve Jasmine with a second warning, and once she received three, she would have to pay a hefty fine.
Hands on her hips, she marched back into the shop as a hoppy sixties tune piping in through the Bluetooth speaker on the counter greeted her.
“One fine day, indeed,” she muttered to herself.
Though tempted to turn the speakers off, she knew she couldn’t.The creatures in the pet shop seemed to like music, at least that’s what Vrig had told her in the beginning.“Silence drives them crazy,” he’d said.“They all start lookin’ at each other and some of the more ’ornery ones pick fights.But the music keeps them calm.”
And so they had music piping in 24/7.Initially Vrig had boring elevator music playing, but as she took over more of the store, Jasmine eventually replaced his playlist with her own favorites, particularly those bright, soulful upbeat Motown tunes from the 1950s and 60s.
She rooted around in her purse until she found the black elastic buried at the bottom, then proceeded to braid her long, black hair into a rope so it wouldn’t get in her way.Then, she grabbed the step stool under the counter.It would only boost her five-foot-nearly-nothing frame about another foot and a half, which would not be enough.As she tapped a finger on her chin, she spied a large cement block from the corner of her eye.Vrig had used them to prop the door open sometimes.After a quick mental calculation—and a small prayer to her ancestor spirits—she picked up the stool and the block, tucked a hammer under her arm, put some nails in her pocket, then headed outside.
You can do this.
She placed the step stool under the sign, then the cement block on top of it.
What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.
