All About That Spell
November 22
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Trixie asked doubtfully. “Because I gotta tell you, this is pinging pretty high on my ‘Maybe Not So Much’ meter.”
“Babe,” Dan said with a quick grin. “Have faith. He’s improved a lot in the past coupla weeks.”
“Uh, huh.”
Mart opened one eye to glare at them both. “It would help if you two could quiet down and let me concentrate.”
Trixie shot him an exaggerated smirk, but she nodded her head, silently acceding to his request as she leaned back in her chair, ready to watch him work. Mart drew in a deep breath and held his hands out, palms down. He softly chanted the words to his newly written spell. Though there was no apparent draft in the room, the two candles at each end of the table flickered wildly and the pages of his Book of Shadows ruffled as if some invisible hand had reached out to flip through them.
Without warning, the door behind them swung open. Trixie jumped and let out a small shriek of surprise. With a soft whoosh, a cloud of smoke shot upward from the chalice in front of Mart and he backed away, coughing hard.
“My apologies. It seems I’ve interrupted something?”
“Uh, yeah. Kinda,” Trixie said with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s okay, Professor. You need some help with something?”
“I was wondering if you could assist me with some boxes? New inventory has come in and we’ll have to decide where we want to put it.”
“Sure thing,” she responded agreeably, pushing up from her seat.
The professor started to turn away, but then he stopped, eyes wide. “Oh… my.”
Trixie looked over her shoulder, following his gaze, and was unable to prevent the amused laughter that bubbled up. “Oh! Bro!”
Mart scowled at her, still struggling to clear his throat. “Yeah?”
“Uh… well, the good news is, I’m reasonably sure your eyebrows will grow back eventually.”
“What?” he exclaimed, rushing over to the tiny half-bath at the back of the storeroom.
“But I don’t know what you’re gonna do about the Pepto-Bismol pink streak in your hair,” she continued, still giggling.
“Holy crap!”
“Dude,” Dan called, barely suppressing his own chuckles. “Why don’t you… uh, stay back here and clean up? We’ll go out and help the professor, okay?”
“What was he attempting to do?” Professor Lee asked curiously as they followed him out into the store.
“This time? He was supposed to be concocting some kind of memory-enhancing potion,” Trixie replied. “In case you couldn’t tell, it still needs some major work.”
“You think we’ll really have everything ready to go by December?” Dan wondered aloud as he surveyed the large stack of boxes near the shop’s front door. “This is an awful lot of inventory that still needs sorting.”
“Hmm. Yes. I certainly hope we’ll have it done. I’d like to reopen before Christmas, if possible. January at the latest as I’ve already resigned my position at Haversham and this will be my last semester of teaching.”
“Yeah. Talk about a career change, Professor!”
“I think it’s awesome that you’re taking over here,” Trixie told him. “Now that your dad’s left town…”
“Yes, well, it was certainly a surprise to learn The Crescent Moon was actually in Grandmother Stella’s name, but once she offered to sign it over to me, I found I couldn’t refuse. And you know, I never really much liked being a mathematics professor to begin with, to be wholly honest.”
“And it’s even more awesome that you’re letting us use your storeroom as our workshop,” Trixie added brightly. Her cell phone buzzed as she spoke and she pulled it from her back pocket, swiping a finger across the screen. “Hello? Yes, this is Trixie… Uh, huh? Yeah… Yes, sir. I understand… No. That’s all right. I know where it is… Okay. Um… we can probably be over there by two. Does that work? Yeah. All right. Thanks.”
“We’re going somewhere, Freckles?” Dan asked her, one brow raised, as she ended the call.
“Yeah,” she replied thoughtfully. “That was Derrick Crane.”
“The painter who lives in that crazy weird house off Telegraph Road? The one that looks like a giant cube of ice?”
“Yep. That’s him. Get this… he says he’s got a problem. With a ghost in his studio. Apparently Aunt Alicia gave him my number. He’d like us to get rid of it. And he’s even offered to pay for our services.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh, huh.”
“Babe…”
“I know, right?” Trixie flashed him a wide grin and grabbed his hand with hers, almost bouncing in her excitement. “If there’s somethin’ strange in your neighborhood… Who ya gonna call?”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Trixie asked doubtfully. “Because I gotta tell you, this is pinging pretty high on my ‘Maybe Not So Much’ meter.”
“Babe,” Dan said with a quick grin. “Have faith. He’s improved a lot in the past coupla weeks.”
“Uh, huh.”
Mart opened one eye to glare at them both. “It would help if you two could quiet down and let me concentrate.”
Trixie shot him an exaggerated smirk, but she nodded her head, silently acceding to his request as she leaned back in her chair, ready to watch him work. Mart drew in a deep breath and held his hands out, palms down. He softly chanted the words to his newly written spell. Though there was no apparent draft in the room, the two candles at each end of the table flickered wildly and the pages of his Book of Shadows ruffled as if some invisible hand had reached out to flip through them.
Without warning, the door behind them swung open. Trixie jumped and let out a small shriek of surprise. With a soft whoosh, a cloud of smoke shot upward from the chalice in front of Mart and he backed away, coughing hard.
“My apologies. It seems I’ve interrupted something?”
“Uh, yeah. Kinda,” Trixie said with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s okay, Professor. You need some help with something?”
“I was wondering if you could assist me with some boxes? New inventory has come in and we’ll have to decide where we want to put it.”
“Sure thing,” she responded agreeably, pushing up from her seat.
The professor started to turn away, but then he stopped, eyes wide. “Oh… my.”
Trixie looked over her shoulder, following his gaze, and was unable to prevent the amused laughter that bubbled up. “Oh! Bro!”
Mart scowled at her, still struggling to clear his throat. “Yeah?”
“Uh… well, the good news is, I’m reasonably sure your eyebrows will grow back eventually.”
“What?” he exclaimed, rushing over to the tiny half-bath at the back of the storeroom.
“But I don’t know what you’re gonna do about the Pepto-Bismol pink streak in your hair,” she continued, still giggling.
“Holy crap!”
“Dude,” Dan called, barely suppressing his own chuckles. “Why don’t you… uh, stay back here and clean up? We’ll go out and help the professor, okay?”
“What was he attempting to do?” Professor Lee asked curiously as they followed him out into the store.
“This time? He was supposed to be concocting some kind of memory-enhancing potion,” Trixie replied. “In case you couldn’t tell, it still needs some major work.”
“You think we’ll really have everything ready to go by December?” Dan wondered aloud as he surveyed the large stack of boxes near the shop’s front door. “This is an awful lot of inventory that still needs sorting.”
“Hmm. Yes. I certainly hope we’ll have it done. I’d like to reopen before Christmas, if possible. January at the latest as I’ve already resigned my position at Haversham and this will be my last semester of teaching.”
“Yeah. Talk about a career change, Professor!”
“I think it’s awesome that you’re taking over here,” Trixie told him. “Now that your dad’s left town…”
“Yes, well, it was certainly a surprise to learn The Crescent Moon was actually in Grandmother Stella’s name, but once she offered to sign it over to me, I found I couldn’t refuse. And you know, I never really much liked being a mathematics professor to begin with, to be wholly honest.”
“And it’s even more awesome that you’re letting us use your storeroom as our workshop,” Trixie added brightly. Her cell phone buzzed as she spoke and she pulled it from her back pocket, swiping a finger across the screen. “Hello? Yes, this is Trixie… Uh, huh? Yeah… Yes, sir. I understand… No. That’s all right. I know where it is… Okay. Um… we can probably be over there by two. Does that work? Yeah. All right. Thanks.”
“We’re going somewhere, Freckles?” Dan asked her, one brow raised, as she ended the call.
“Yeah,” she replied thoughtfully. “That was Derrick Crane.”
“The painter who lives in that crazy weird house off Telegraph Road? The one that looks like a giant cube of ice?”
“Yep. That’s him. Get this… he says he’s got a problem. With a ghost in his studio. Apparently Aunt Alicia gave him my number. He’d like us to get rid of it. And he’s even offered to pay for our services.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh, huh.”
“Babe…”
“I know, right?” Trixie flashed him a wide grin and grabbed his hand with hers, almost bouncing in her excitement. “If there’s somethin’ strange in your neighborhood… Who ya gonna call?”