Page 19 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
My heart rate doubles, and I hold Rynn tighter.
“What’s going on?” she asks, voice laced with fear.
Fast footsteps thunder along the street and a horn beeps in the distance. Another scream.
Was there a car crash? I realize we’re walking. Rynn is tugging me towards the commotion. We arrive at the town fountain where a cluster of people are circled around something, or maybe someone.
Did someone pass out? Heart attack? Stroke? Half a dozen people sit with a blank stare. They’re all holding popsicles, dripping a purple, sticky liquid down their hands. Their friends are snapping in front of their faces, yet none of them respond. Others wave their hands frantically, jump up and down, trying to elicit a response from the zombie-like victims.
“What happened?” someone asks, pushing through the crowd. “I’m a doctor.”
“Emily isn’t moving! She was sitting here, having a snack, and then she stopped talking mid-sentence,” one person says, then someone else cuts them off, “My son won’t stop staring at that bird. It’s like he’s suddenly deaf and blind. I don’t understand.”
More whispers, followed by gasps.
“It’s like Mark stopped talking all of a sudden,” someone says quickly. And then, “Did someone bewitch him?”
Rynn tenses and takes a step back. My pulse races, trying to understand what she has noticed. Purple popsicles. Does she think they bought them from her store?
“Do you sell these?” I ask.
She shakes her head, eyes wide, and backs up further. Is she in shock?
“Rynnlee, talk to me.” I step between her and the scene to get her eyes on me. Finally, her terrified gaze locks onto mine.
“Alexandra,” she whispers. “Last night …” Rynn has trouble getting out the words, stumbling and breathing heavily. “She said she wanted to take away someone’s passion.” Her eyes well, full of unshed tears. “She wanted them to suffer like an empty shell.” She gasps, trying to take in a full breath as realization hits her. “I did this. She stole my enchanted paint and cursed them. I’m responsible.”
My jaw drops and I don’t know what to say or what to think, but I won’t let this crowd become a mob. I pull her into my chest, then slowly walk her backwards into my shop.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rynn
Inside Elias’s shop, I’m immediately surrounded by a mass of helium pumpkin balloons. They attack me like those crazy gadgets in a car wash machine. Elias tries to bat them away, while mumbling something about squirrels, but we end up enveloped inside the cluster of helium weapons together. We stare at each other. The dark browns of his hair contrast against the orange backdropping his head.
Undertones of earthy soil and sweet vanilla scents accentuate the pumpkin aroma we breathe in. He holds my gaze as I try to calm my racing heart.
“Hey, it’ll be okay. No one’s blaming you for what’s happening out there,” he says gently.
“Yet. No one’s blaming me yet. The popsicles were purple!”
“But you don’t sell popsicles.”
“It doesn’t matter! Gossip will spread.” I pace, but bump into the dome of balloons. “If I’m forced to shut down, then I’ll have to move back home, and I can’t go back there. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
“Sunflower, look at me.” Elias’s hands grip my arms, a comfortable squeeze I desperately need to ground myself.
“If they take away my business, then—no, I won’t let that happen.”
Large business loan hangs over my thoughts like a thick raincloud ready to burst.
“I’m obsessed with game shows,” he blurts like he’s on a sugar rush.
“What?”
“And I’ve never been to a museum,” he says quickly. “I eat anything and everything but potatoes because once I had a traumatic event with a French fry, don’t ask me about that story. Hmm, let’s see, oh yeah, the only thing I splurge on is my suspender collection.” He snaps the straps of the purple pair with a ladybug print he’s wearing. “I only read if it’s an audiobook, and it’s best to finish the whole book in one swoop, so I listen on long car drives or my monthly hikes up Mount Gashville.”
“What genre do you listen to?”
