Page 19 of Pixie Problems
She nodded, looking fascinated, but didn’t interrupt.
“With most people and paranormals I get a full sense of them, but some obviously are strong enough to shield themselves physically and magically. In those, if something’s wrong, I just get a strong sense of uneasiness when I look at them. For most, I don’t know them, and so it’s easier to justify to myself not saying anything.” I floundered for a minute, trying to figure out how to say what I needed to.
“But you feel uneasiness from your Insight when you look at me,” Ignis whispered.
I clenched my sweaty hands. I hated my Insight some days. It was literally the worst gift ever given to a pixie. It would have been a much better gift for an elf or a wizard or witch. And to give it tome!I wasn't exactly known for being cuddly, empathetic and kind. “Yes.”
Ignis drew in a shaky breath. “Okay . . . okay, umm, if I drop my magic shield would you be able to tell me what’s wrong?”
I nodded. “It’ll be easier if you sit and try to rest for a moment.”
She nodded, moved to the closest chair and sat down, leaning against the back of the chair for a moment with her eyes closed. Then she did a swirly motion with her right pointer finger, and her shield dropped. She kept her eyes closed while I read her, and I was grateful because it was distracting when people stared at me while I did this.
My Insight was a lot like a magical scan that scanned a person from head to toe, and every organ, bone, muscle, ligament, blood vessel and synapse in between. It gave me exhaustive details like: what their diet looked like, if they exercised, how much sleep they were getting or not getting, how overall stressed their body and mind were, any injuries they’d sustained in their lifetime, if they were suffering from a mental illness, if they were pregnant—I also saw the health of the fetus—if they had a virus of some kind, or, for the more serious cases, if they had a malignant disease that threatened their life.
There was a ton more it showed me, and I’d learned over the course of my life to keep my mouth shut about a lot of it. When I was a child, I’d driven my grandparents and our farm hands crazy with my talk of their mental and physical health. I’d had so many times when I’d gotten excited by a pregnancy that, ooops, the person hadn’t known about yet. Or times when I’d stayed in my room crying inconsolably because someone I knew was really sick.
Like Mr. Leto had said, I had a horrifically beautiful gift. And one day, I wanted to open an apothecary shop so I could help more people with it. I was determined to make lemonade out of my lemon of a gift.
It was quiet in the office as my Insight gave me all the details of Ignis’ health, and I gave a sigh of relief when it was finished, because she could be saved. But we needed to act fast. I palmed my phone and dialed Finn.
“Finn here.”
“Ignis has to go in for emergency surgery. Can you get an ambulance here at the Tres Hermanas please?”
“On it.”
He hung up quickly, and I knelt in front of Ignis who looked justifiably like she was freaking out. “It’s your appendix. It’s going to burst soon. Have you been having abdominal pain, more on the right side, nausea, vomiting, fevers?”
She nodded. “I thought I had the flu. My family was really strapped for help tonight, so I volunteered to come in even though I wasn’t feeling well. I just did a quick shielding spell before I came so I wouldn’t contaminate anyone else tonight until they could bring someone else in to cover my shift.”
By now we could hear the sirens, and Rhys barged in without knocking. On his heels were Ignis’ two sisters and her mom and dad. “They said they’re here for Ignis,” Rhys said.
“Ignis, baby, are you feeling worse?” Her mom rushed in and felt her forehead. She hissed. “You’re burning up, mi amor.”
Ignis was looking at me as if I had all the answers in the universe. I guess, for her, I did. At least for the moment. “She has an appendix that’s about to burst. We’ve called an ambulance.”
At my words, a man and woman dressed in blue cargo pants and a blue polo with the logo MCAS in bright yellow on their right pocket came in quickly. I pointed out Ignis and they went to work, hooking her up to a heart and oxygen monitor. She explained her symptoms as they secured her onto the stretcher and rolled her through the back of the restaurant into an alleyway. Her family, Rhys and I all followed the stretcher out, and watched as it took off with awhoop whoopand then the siren blared to life, shrieking as the ambulance quickly made its way to the hospital.
Her family looked terrified. The sisters and mom were crying, leaning on each other for support. The dad wrapped his arms around his girls while his wife clung to his arm, and they all continued to watch the now deserted alleyway as if they were afraid to look away, or, more likely, having a hard time wrapping their heads around the fact that their loved one had just been taken away in an ambulance.
I cleared my throat. “I think we caught it in time. She’ll go into emergency surgery, and they’ll remove her appendix. They’ll most likely do a laparoscopic surgery, which means they’ll make a few smaller incisions to remove her appendix rather than one large incision. She’ll be tender for a few weeks afterward and might have some stomach upset. Recovery from a laparoscopic appendectomy is about one to three weeks.”
The mom came toward me and wrapped me in a huge hug. Then the dad and sisters got in on the hug action and I felt like a pixie pancake. Rhys was grinning at me like an idiot, and I rolled my eyes at him. Dumb star elves. The least he could do was help a pixie out of all the effulgent hugging happening, but nope, he just stood there and grinned like we were the cutest things ever.
“We’ll keep your secret safe, mija, until you’re ready to share it with the town,” the mom said, wiping the tears away on her cheeks. Then she straightened, and I could see a sense of purpose come over her as she clapped her hands. “Ándale family! We must get our customers and employees out and close the restaurant so we can get to the hospital as soon as possible.”
Rhys and I followed them in as the family nodded, calming and moving purposely. They moved to the tables overflowing with guests, and quietly let them know that they had a family emergency, and that they were all getting a free meal as they quickly and efficiently boxed up their meals and sent them kindly on their way out the doors. When the last customer left, the family turned back to Rhys and me.
“I can wash dishes, clean tables, and lock up,” I volunteered. “You guys should get going to the hospital.” I didn’t want them to worry about their restaurant. I could handle whatever was needed so they could be there for their daughter and sister.
One of the sisters came over and squeezed me tightly. She was adorable with a button nose, huge green eyes with dark, long eyelashes, and long, dark, silky hair tied back with a bright yellow handkerchief. “Thank you,” she said huskily, clearly still struggling with her emotions. She handed me a copper key ring from her pocket—which I assumed were the keys to the front and back doors—then she hugged Rhys. “Thank you, Rhys, as well.” The father handed the girls’ purses over to each of them, which they accepted absently, and then rushed out the door. Before he left, the father turned back to us.
“You guys sure you'll be okay?” the father asked. I would really have to get his first name soon. “I turned everything off in the kitchen but the lights. The rest of our employees were sent on a bonus vacation to Hawaii so you guys won’t be bothered as you close up with extra people.” Sign me up! Their employees got bonus vacations to Hawaii? Seriously, Mexican food and Hawaii. I wanted to work here now.
Rhys nodded. “Go on,” he said. “We’ll take care of the restaurant.”
He left.
