“The trick-or-treaters didn’t come here for a lecture.”
“I know.” Angel beamed. “So it’s a special treat for them to get one.”
“Not really.” Julia rubbed her forehead. She had a major headache drumming in her head. Halloween was always a wild day at the library, and today was no exception.
A glance in the mirror provided her with a revealing mental snapshot of herself standing there wearing a white blouse and brown pants and her mother who was wearing a colorful array of scarves wrapped around her upper body and a fluid skirt.
You couldn’t find two more opposite females. Angel represented everything loose and flowing in the universe and Julia . . . well, she represented control and order.
Yet her mother looked happier than Julia did. What was with that?
Sure, Angel looked happier. She never worried about anything.
Wearing different clothing wouldn’t change the way Julia felt inside. Would it?
Julia looked away, wondering if this newfound sense of dissatisfaction was a result of her mother’s stay in her house.
The reality was that fashion choices were the least of her worries at the moment. “Why is there a spinning wheel in the front yard?”
“Because your sister is demonstrating how it’s used.”
“And the fire pit next to her would be . . . ?”
“For light. It gets dark so early here. But getting back to the spinning wheel, it ties into the Sleeping Beauty story. You remember how she started weaving and developed SB Designs, right?”
“How could I forget?” Her mother had rewritten all the classics and made up a few of her own.
“What’s Toni supposed to be?” Julia asked as her niece waddled by.
“An organic vegetable.”
That explained the strange, bulbous look. “What is she, a rutabaga or something?”
“No, a yam. But the design didn’t come out quite right. I was sewing it in a hurry because I couldn’t decide whether to have her dress as a druid the way I am, or as a protestor from the sixties, or maybe as a tarot card. I was just bombarded with so many creative ideas that it was difficult deciding which one to choose.”
Julia belatedly registered something she should have noticed first thing. “Why was there a sign on the front door about llamas spitting?”
“Well, I thought it might be nice for some of the older kids to see the llamas. After all, they probably haven’t had the opportunity to see llamas close up before. But I didn’t want you to get upset in case Ricky and Lucy spat at someone, so just as a precaution I put up that sign. Totally for your benefit.”
“I’d have preferred that you leave the llamas out of the Halloween festivities entirely.”
“Well, I didn’t want them getting lonely.”
Julia was almost afraid to ask. “Did they behave?”
“Admirably.”
Julia sighed in relief.
“For the most part,” Angel added.
“What’s that mean?”
“Well, they didn’t seem to care for one boy in particular. What was his name again . . . ?” Angel tugged on her right ear, something she always did when trying to retrieve a memory.
“It wasn’t Billy, was it?”
“That’s it. He was dressed as a football player, and that might have upset Ricky. He prefers soccer to football.”
“Who does?”
“Ricky.”
“He’s a llama.”
“Who likes soccer.”
“What did he do to Billy?”
“Not much. Just set his boundaries.”
“Billy is the mayor’s son.”
“So he told me.”
“What exactly did he say?”
“I’d rather not repeat it. He was a bit upset at the time.”
“Because Ricky set boundaries.”
“And because of the wad of llama spittle on his chin.”
“Ricky’s chin?”
“No, Billy’s.”
Julia took a deep breath.
Note to self: Remain calm.
“When did all this happen?”
“About twenty minutes ago. But enough about me.” Angel patted her arm. “How was your day at work?”
“Just peachy.” The library director had brought her the news that Walt liked the idea of the llamas being Serenity Falls prognosticators and wanted research done on how that could be accomplished. Much of her day was spent on that, in between helping library patrons and working out glitches in the November staffing schedule for the reference desk.
Julia wondered if Walt would continue to be as keen on the llamas given what they’d done to his son.
She didn’t have long to wonder, however, as Walt phoned her a few seconds later.
“I’m so sorry,” Julia began, when Walt interrupted her.
“I should hope so. I would think your loyalties to Serenity Falls would take top priority in this situation.”
Not knowing where he was going with this train of thought, she just paused and waited for him to say more.
“But now I hear that you’re thinking of moving,” Walt continued.
“Me?” Julia rubbed her forehead again and curled up on her favorite chair. She needed aspirin and Pop-Tarts. “I have no intention of moving.”
“Not you, the llamas.”
“You
told
me to move them.”
“That was before I considered the idea of them being our prognosticators. The town council is going to have a special conference call about it later this week.”
“But you said it’s illegal to have llamas in my backyard.”
“Yes, well, we can work around that, perhaps.”
“Uh, Walt, have you spoken with your son recently?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, he and one of the llamas had a slight misunderstanding.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me. He told me you shouted at him before the Fall Fun Festival the other day.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“He may have. I wasn’t paying that much attention.”
Which could be one reason why Billy acted up so much—to get his father’s attention.
“But getting back to the llamas,” Walt said. “I thought we had an understanding.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m still not following you.”
“The word on the street is that your mother is going to move the llamas.”
“Move them where?”
“To a farm.”
“Right. My neighbor mentioned that her cousin, who’s a dairy farmer, might have room on his property . . .”
“Oh no, we’re not talking about him. I’m talking about one of the old-timers farms. The Amish. If she does that, we can’t set up the publicity opportunities I had planned.”
“She could always bring back the llamas for any special events . . .”
“But then they wouldn’t be Serenity Falls llamas. They’d be
Amish
llamas.”
“Are you afraid they’re going to try to convert them or something?”
“I’m just saying that once they leave the confines of our lovely city, we lose control over them.”
“Well, to be honest, given the fact that my mother owns them and she’s not a resident of Serenity Falls, you’ve already lost control over them. Or rather, you never had control over them to begin with.”
“But your mother seemed open to my ideas when I spoke with her earlier this afternoon.”
“Did you ask her about the Amish farm then?”
“No, because I hadn’t heard about it at that point. Hold on a moment, will you?” She heard the muffled sound caused by Walt putting one hand over the phone. “What are you boys doing out there?”
“Trick or treat!”
“Trick or treat in Serenity Falls ends at six p.m. and it’s now four minutes past that time.”
“
Awww,
come on . . .”
“Rules are meant to be followed. Now go home.” More muffled sounds as Walt removed his hand. “I’m sorry about that. Now where were we? Oh yes. The llamas. What did you turn up in your research?”
“A lot about the care and history of llamas, which were first domesticated nearly six thousand years ago by the Quechua Indians. Did you know that they were first brought to this country by William Randolph Hearst in the 1920s for his personal zoo? They’re good at guarding sheep and have a life expectancy of twenty to twenty-five years—”
Walt interrupted her. “Yes, but what about predicting the weather?”
“I haven’t found anything on that yet.”
“Well, keep looking. We need to have something special so we stand out. The competition is fierce, you know. Every town in the country wants to be the best. Except for Rock Creek, of course.”
“Why are they different?”
Walt chuckled. “Come on, you know the answer to that. You just have to drive over there and take a look around. Half the commercial buildings in town are boarded up or for sale.”
“I haven’t actually visited Rock Creek yet.”
“Smart of you. There’s nothing to see over there. You do realize that the big game is coming up soon, right? Between our high school football team and theirs. I believe the library will be doing its part to show their support for our hometown boys. But getting back to the llamas, I want you to stay focused on this and stay away from Luke Maguire.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard that he was over at your place the other day. If he’s bothering you, just dial 911 and have the sheriff deal with him.”
“He’s not bothering me.” But Walt was beginning to, ordering her around.
“I’m just saying that there’s no need for you to be afraid of him.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. Because he’s been trouble since the day he was born. His departed father often said that, and it’s true.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say about a child.” Now Julia felt guilty for her fleeting similar thoughts about her own niece. She doubted the boyish Luke had bitten anyone by the age of four, however.
Walt shrugged. “Terrible but true. Listen, I’ve got to go. Remember what I said.”
What she remembered was the shadowy look in Luke’s eyes when he’d talked about the town warning her to stay away from him.
“What are your thoughts on Jell-O wrestling?” Luke asked Algee as the big guy took a seat at the bar.
Algee eyed him suspiciously. “Yo, I just want a Bud, man.”
A minute later Luke set a beer in front of him. “Now back to Jell-O wrestling.”
“I’ve got nothing against it. Why the question? You thinking of adding entertainment here at Maguire’s?”
“I was kicking the idea around.”
“You’d get kicked out of town if you tried that.”
Luke just grinned.
Algee nodded. “Ah, I get it now. That’s what you’re after. Stirring things up. Well, I can relate. Don’t think that a black man opening a comic book store in town didn’t set off a few alarms.”
“I’ll bet.”
Algee looked around. “You’ve got a nice crowd here, considering it’s Halloween night.”
“Yeah, well, offering a free beer if you come in wearing a costume helped, I’m sure.”
“What are you supposed to be?” Algee pointed to Luke’s black T-shirt and jeans.
“A bartender.”
“Oh, yeah, wow. How could I miss that?”
“I was expecting you to come in as Superman or something.”
Algee pointed to Superman’s “S” logo tatoo on his right bicep.
Luke shook his head. “Tatoos aren’t considered costumes. That beer is not free.”
“You owe me, man, for nearly breaking my back hauling out that furniture.”
“I thought you were doing that for the nuns and because you and Adele are buddies.”
Algee shrugged a pair of broad shoulders that would have done a defensive lineman proud. “Well, yeah, sure, that was one or two reasons.”
“Where would I be if I gave out free beers to everyone who helps me out?”
“Two beers shorter than you were before? Unless Tyler doesn’t drink beer? It’s not like you’ve got folks lining up around the block waiting to help you out.”
Luke was distracted from answering by the arrival of Julia’s sister, Skye. She was wearing black biker boots and a strange-looking skirt over tight pants along with a tank top. She had a huge fuzzy sweater wrapped around her. He couldn’t tell if what she was wearing was a costume or not.
She headed right for him. “My sister says I’m not supposed to talk to you. But I never do what she tells me.”
Algee rolled his eyes and took off for safer ground with his beer in hand.
“Maybe you should listen to her in this case,” Luke replied.
The multiple silver bangles on her wrist jangled as Skye hopped onto Algee’s abandoned bar stool. “I think she likes you.”
“I think you like making trouble.”
“I’ve been told it’s a natural talent of mine,” she noted with cheerful pride.
“I’ve been told the same thing.”
Skye nodded. “I know. I recognized that about you right away. Which is why I was so surprised that Julia is attracted to you.”
“What makes you think she is?” Damn. Luke hadn’t meant to show any interest. His lack of a good night’s sleep since he’d landed back in this backwater ’burb must be catching up with him. Although he’d gotten rid of the contents in his father’s apartment, the walls still talked.
Sleep depravation, that was it. That was his problem.
“I just know.” Skye gave him one of those looks women mastered when they thought they held the upper hand. “And I’m surprised because, frankly, I wouldn’t have thought you and a belly-dancing librarian would have much in common.”
“Julia belly dances?” The instant mental visual he got of that was enough to make him go hard in two seconds flat.
“Yes. And she’s even better than I am, and I’m good enough to be giving lessons. Which is why I came in here.”
“To belly dance?”
“No, to ask if it’s okay to post a flyer about the classes we’re offering.”
“We?”
“Angel and me. She’s teaching yoga, and I’m offering belly dancing.”
“What’s Julia offering?”