Authors: Jessica Miller
Chapter 2
One day earlier
Elizabeth scribbled furiously in her day planner as she marched down Bourbon street. The brick made a wet, slapping noise against her flat shoes as she fought with the recent rain. The ground was slushy, but even in the macabre grey of the day there was an electricity to the city: New Orleans. No matter what street she walked down, jazz was dancing in and out of her ears. There were street performers too, in vibrant colors like they were putting on a pre-show for the upcoming Mardi Gras festival. It seemed fun, but it was not something Elizabeth could be bothered with.
Elizabeth had landed in New Orleans in January, and had until May to submit her thesis on causative human factors in the black bear decline. She did not want to go the bland “human expansion” route because she wanted to dazzle. She wanted the EPA to notice her, and beg for her to join their agency, and she would have to encourage herself to do it. None of her classmates could be bothered with doing extra work senior year. Michigan State was a hard enough school as is. The last thing anyone wanted was extra research. And the last thing Elizabeth wanted was to end up a single mom working in a diner like her mom.
Elizabeth pounded down the sidewalk, not taking in the sights of the historical buildings, blatantly disregarding the magic of the French Quarter, and almost snapping when a human statue tapped her shoulder. She glared at a him, a silvery Charlie Chaplin look-alike, and he stiffened back into character.
Elizabeth just wanted to get back to her dorm room, but her stomach growled menacingly, reminding her it was lunch time, and she had not eaten all day. She looked up from her day planner for the first time in a few city blocks, and realized she was in Gris Street.
Everyone at Dillard told her to avoid Gris Street, because of the evil that permeated the air. It was rows and rows of voodoo and occult shops all with crooked orange and black signs that read ‘open’. Elizabeth felt no evil, it was painted with the same dull gray as the rest of the city because of the recent rain storm. Her issue with the shops on Gris Street was not their reputation, but the fact that they did not sell food. She turned around in a full circle, realizing she was surrounded by occult stores, and pursed her lips. This part of the city was not overcrowded with tourists like the main French Quarter where people seemed to be shoving past her just to get some jambalaya. The thought of red beans and rice made her mouth water.
Elizabeth picked a store, a black and red painted brick building tucked in a corner, with a sign that read “Karis’ Mischief Shoppe.” Elizabeth tilted her head, deciding she did not like ‘shoppe’ spelled in an old European way since this was America, but she needed directions or a bag of potato chips so she did not pass out before her next visit to the woods.
The doorbell made a low clinking noise as Elizabeth entered the dimly lit, small, round space. It smelled of wet grass, and an undercurrent of spices. Bizarre dried out plants were in clear plastic baggies hanging lazily on hooks down three narrow aisles that all pointed to a single register. Elizabeth looked around for a vending machine or a cooler, but nothing looked edible in the shop. Also no one had even come from the beaded doorway in the back of the room to greet her.
“Can I help you, miss?” came a low rhythmic voice down one of the aisles. A Creole woman rose to her feet. Her face was caramel brown, and her features were sharp, aquiline, and her eyes were a clear gray like the edges of her braided hair.
“Hello, I was looking for food, like a restaurant, maybe?” Elizabeth said, clutching at her cross-body purse for support. The woman made her nervous.
The woman crossed the aisle, dragging her thin body closer, and crossing her arms, as if appraising Elizabeth.
The woman was wearing a long, muddy-brown dress, and Elizabeth felt out of place in her jeans and t-shirt.
“You come to a voodoo shop for food?” the woman asked with a crooked, mirthless smile.
“I—I’m just lost. I’m sorry for bothering you,” Elizabeth said, turning to leave.
When she reached for the door, she saw rows of something that caught her eyes in the baggies: bear teeth and bear fur. She reached for it, tracing her hands around the edges of the bag, feeling her stomach sicken.
“You kill innocent animals for a joke shop?” Elizabeth asked, feeling angry.
The woman uncrossed her arms, and sneered at Elizabeth.
“This store has stood in this spot for over eighty years. There is nothing funny about it. And for your information, we don’t kill anything on these walls. When bears tear through the flesh of their prey, sometimes a tooth falls out, and lingers in the wood. I collect them for their power. It’s an ingredient in hexes.”
Elizabeth scoffed, putting the baggie back on the hook.
“Oh, so you don’t believe, eh?” the store keeper asked.
“I’m an environmental scientist. I work on, at a minimum, empirical evidence. Don’t put much stock in
magical
bear teeth.”
“Well, you should. And I would be careful who I insult when I’m so prone to shedding hair.”
The woman pulled a long strand of straight blonde hair from a shelf Elizabeth had just walked pass. Elizabeth instantly touched her scalp like she would miss it.
“Don’t worry. I will just keep it for good measure. Anything connected to you can shed even your more darkest secrets, your fears, your hopes, so I would be careful Miss—” the woman paused, threading the hair through her index finger and thumb, pinched her eyes closed, and breathed deeply, “Elizabeth.”
Chapter 3
Elizabeth all but ran out of the store. The rain had started to fall again and her straight blonde hair was sticking to her slim face. She pulled the hood of her jacket up, and trotted ahead until she saw a line of restaurants. Even though Elizabeth did not believe, she had to admit that being away from the street of voodoo shops made her feel at ease. There was something dark in the air there. It was a heaviness that she could not explain. Perhaps it was the darkness of the rainy day, or perhaps it was her own anxiety about getting a job in her field that made her so uneasy. She marched ahead, keeping her head down when she slammed into someone.
“Hey, watch it!” said a man with dark black hair.
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said, looking into the handsome face of the stranger.
When he met her gaze his eyes seemed to soften. He was taller, broad-shouldered and had a grey hoodie up to protect him from the rain.
“No worries,” he said, smiling down at her, “Come let’s get out of the rain. I was just about to go into PJ’s for lunch. You like po’boys?”
He waved her over to an awning in front of a two story building that had PJ’s etched on the front of the door in thick, gold lettering.
“I, um, I don’t know what that means. No offense, but I’ll pass. I don’t even know you.”
Elizabeth’s stomach growled loudly and he looked her up and down with a cheeky smile.
“Po’boy is a sandwich. I’m from Baton Rouge and my mom used to make them all the time. And you can get to know me over food. Don’t lie and say you’re not hungry. Your stomach just gave you away. I’m Jacob by the way. You can just call me Jake.”
He extended his arm to shake her hand. She took it, eyeing him speculatively.
“Don’t worry. I don’t bite. Not on the first date anyway,” he said, winking at her and pulling the door open, “after you.”
“This is not a date. I’m Elizabeth by the way,” Elizabeth said, walking ahead of him in the restaurant. The interior was dark wood and high ceilings with numerous square, white tables spread around the floor. It was basically empty. A dark-skinned hostess in a checkered red and black dress greeted them.
“Hello, just two?” the hostess asked.
“Yep,” Jake said, pulling his hood back and shaking out his hair.
Elizabeth stole another look at him, feeling her stomach dance with butterflies. She never gave guys a second look with her rigorous program at school, but none of the men on campus looked anything like this Louisiana man.
When they were seated at the table he removed his sopping wet hoodie and so did Elizabeth. His muscles were straining against a damp white t-shirt.
“So, what brings you to my lovely state?” Jake asked, leaning forward, “I can hear you’re not from around here.”
“Bears,” Elizabeth said, clearing her throat.
His eyes darkened when she said that, and he seemed to look around the sparse room before looking back at her.
“Oh? What about them?” he asked, picking at a dinner roll on the center of the table.
“What do you mean ‘what about them’? They’re endangered. Almost all of the native black bears in Louisiana are dying off!”
Elizabeth could feel her righteous indignation boiling in her chest.
“So you like black bears, huh?” he asked with a smirk.
“Why does that amuse you?”
“No reason. You just don’t look like the ‘save the animals’ type? Aren’t those girls usually covered in body hair and refuse to shower or something? You seem pretty put together to be the earthy type.”
Now Elizabeth’s blood was really boiling. He may be attractive, but he was also clearly a chauvinistic pig.
“I should go,” Elizabeth said, gathering her purse from the floor.
“Wait, why?”
“You can’t just be rude to people. You don’t even know me and you’re carrying on like an idiot.”
“You think I’m an—idiot?”
“Yes. A pig, really. God, does that machismo shit really work for you?”
Jake blanched, slumping back in his chair. You would think she had slapped him, instead of told him off. Elizabeth stiffened her shoulders, glad she had shifted the field of power. He had her off her game with his looks but no one insults her work, no matter what he looked like.
“Look, I’m sorry. I was just joking. Please sit back down. That was my very, very backhanded way of saying I think you’re pretty. At least get the po’boy to go. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
He was flashing a lopsided grin at her and batting his long, dark eyelashes. Her stomach fluttered again, and she could feel her resolve weakening. She sat back down, but tried to keep her face as stern as possible. The waitress walked over to the table with two tall glasses of ice water before Elizabeth could come up with something witty to say.
“Have you guys decided?” asked the waitress, pulling out a pen and note pad.
“Would I be an
idiot
if I ordered for you?” he asked, clearly smirking at her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, but decided he probably knew the menu better than her. It’s not like she had any allergies to worry about.
“Fine, go ahead,” Elizabeth said, crossing her arms.
“Two fried shrimp po’boys please with fries. And can we get the raspberry sweet tea? If the lady doesn’t kill me by desert then two beignets, extra powdered sugar,” Jake said, handing the waitress back the menus.
The waitress nodded, receiving the menus and walking away.
“Good Lord, how do you stay in such good shape eating like that?” Elizabeth asked, sipping on her water.
“Oh, you noticed I was in good shape, huh?”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks get hot. She was already naturally very pale so she was sure she looked like a blonde tomato right about now.
“Just making conversation,” Elizabeth said, shrugging off the comment.
“I see. Well, I’m a pretty outdoorsy guy. I run in the state park a lot. I assume you are doing your research there?”
“Yea. I’ve been going like three times a week, weather permitting. It’s been raining like crazy.”
“Yea, I know. I grew up climbing those trees with my best friend, Chris. We’re both in town for Mardi Gras. You’re going obviously?”
“No. I don’t have time. I’m only here until May. I graduate college then.”
“Come on. You have to go. It’s literally the best party in the country, arguably the world!”
“I have a schedule to keep.”
“A schedule that could be thrown off by one night of fun sounds like a shitty schedule.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Being a pig,” she said, smirking at him.
He laughed and leaned back as the waitress put down the sweet tea. She took a sip and her lips puckered from all of the sugar.
“Holy shit,” she said, putting the cup down.
“I know. It’s like liquid diabetes,” he said, slurping down his drink.
“There is no way you drink
this
.”
“I do. I asked them for the recipe and serve it up to all of my friends in Canada.”
“I feel sorry for your friends’ health. Canada, huh? That’s a long way away.”
His face hardened a little as he nodded.
“It’s better to roam around. Plus, Chris was born there.”
“Sounds like you’re a party boy. Though I don’t think of Canada when I think of a party spot.”
“I meant the woods. Judge much?”
“You live in Canada for—the nature?”
Elizabeth could not believe this cocky, jock-type was into nature.
“See? I did the same thing to you when you said you wanted to save the bears, but yes I love nature so I live in a cabin outside of Ottawa with Chris.”
“Oh.”
Elizabeth felt a pang of disappointment wondering if he was secretly gay.
“It’s platonic. Just two childhood friends.”
“Oh yea? How do your girlfriends feel about that arrangement? You seem a little old to still have a roommate.”
“I’m thirty, thank you very much. So is he and we are both recently single. Chris a lot longer. His wife died about a year ago. Me it’s a bit more recent. She left me about a month ago. Not a lot of women can hang in the woods or watch bears without getting a little stir crazy.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks get redder like he was hinting at something.
“Like I said this isn’t a date, but I hope you find someone to ‘hang in the woods’ with,” Elizabeth said, pushing the saccharine tea off to the side.
Before Jake could reply the waitress returned with what looked like an open faced fried shrimp sandwich. Elizabeth’s mouth was watering and her stomach churning loudly.
“I think me and your stomach are going to get along just fine—even though this is not a date,” Jake said, picking up his sandwich.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, wolfing down her fries. They ate in silence, but when Elizabeth looked up from her plate, after a few bites, Jake was already done and sipping on her sweet tea. It was the fastest she had ever seen anyone eat.
“Hungry, huh?” she asked.
He nodded, draining her tea, and looking at his phone.
“So, I’m meeting my
friend
Chris in the state park for a hike. Want to come?”
“Now?”
“Yep. This meal is like four thousand calories and unless you want to go into a food coma, I would walk it off. Don’t worry you don’t have to call it a date—unless your into having two guys?”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and her lips curled up in disgust.
“Ha! I’m kidding. I’ll text Chris to meet us. You down? If it helps, I grew up in these woods. I know where all of the bears are.”
Elizabeth’s ears perked up. She’d had slim luck finding bears so far. She found the evidence of bears: tracks, scat, scratches, bones, but very little actual bear up close.
“Yes! Let’s go. I’m down,” Elizabeth said, extending her hand.
Jake took her hand, shook it and a wicked grin spread across his face.