The Town of Lost Things (and a shop called Old Stuff)635Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlqI6AvOu3e
Helena, just Helena, in nearly twenty millenniums had maintained many images in her life; the latest of which lived in shadow, a ghost drifting from town to town in a beat-up old minivan. She’d sold up most of her possessions, mansions, antiques, siphoned it away into an account to be locked for the next hundred years. It required her to start anew, at least in a financial sense. Her magic remained but she decided she wouldn’t rely on it as much, try living as a boring old human,
Yet as her minivan spluttered and chugged on sluggishly down the road her conviction wavered. For the first time in many years, hairline cracks appeared. The engine gave another hoarse splutter, then gave a low moaning sound as all dials fell to zero, the car slowing to a stop. She turned the key, biting the urge to give a burst of magic through it, yet nothing happened.
With a sigh, she climbed out of the truck and went around to the front. She lifted the bonnet, half expecting to see what the problem was immediately and knew how she could fix it. Problem was, her knowledge with cars was limited. One look and she slammed the bonnet down, cursing. She vowed to take some lessons, once she was back in civilisation, of course.
She grabbed her backpack out of the back, then set off down the road. Unlike humans she didn’t need to eat every day. She’d last fed on a human several months ago and that hadn’t even been necessary. He just annoyed her. Besides, she was fit and strong, so she didn’t mind walking for hours. The odds weren’t awful either that someone might drive back, that she could flag them down and be on her way. The car was registered in her assistant’s name, the boy responsible for ensuring all her new identities as she needed them. If there was any issue about her car being abandoned, he’d deal with it, just like he always did. It was why she paid him so handsomely.
The night darkened, the moon fading behind an encroaching gathering of dark clouds. With it, the air grew cooler, pinching her cheeks red. She hurried on, down the road until finally, in the distance, was the vague golden glow of street lights. It was confusing because she’d studied maps rigorously, so she was very sure that there wasn’t a town anywhere near her.
The closer she got she realised it wasn’t just one street light but a row of them, set at regular intervals, lighting rows of shops on both sides. There was no one about and it was the middle of the night but every single store had an open sign hanging on the door. Some were boutique clothing stores, opportunity shops, even a little book store.
“What a strange little town,” she murmured.
Half way along, realising she should probably go into one and see if there was a room to stay the night somewhere close. She stopped, something gold catching her eye. Turning, she looked into the window display. It was an old antique store and right in the middle of the display, presented on a red velvet cushion, was a golden crown. It was simple, resembling a wreath of leaves, yet there was no mistaking how familiar it was. She was in the store before she knew it, reaching out to touch it. She had to be sure. After all, what were the odds that after all this time not only had the crown survived but found its way to her? In a town in the middle of nowhere of all places!
“I see you’ve got good taste,” chuckled a man from behind her.
She froze. That voice. It couldn’t be…She spun around, momentarily forgetting the crown. Her heart fell out of her chest. There he was, just like he had twenty thousand years ago. That approving look, a half smile that lit his face. He still had that lovely dark olive skin, though his hair was shorter than it had been back then. His eyes were the same though, staring back, his eyes widened for a moment before his brow furrowed.
“Have we met?” He asked. “You look familiar.”
Was the town a magical place? Some place where the present and past bleed together into this strange town? She considered, if only for a moment, that it might be a witch who had secured his soul when he died. They’d murdered him, back then and his body had been cold when she found him, dead amongst their two daughters. No, the witches weren’t behind it. They might hold grudges but they were still as mortal flesh, bound by time and death. So, perhaps something else? Some other reason behind his appearance?
She held out her hand. “Helena.”
He took her hand, warmth enveloping hers. “Hector.” He drew his hand back, then gestured to the crown. “Would you like to buy it?”
Helena blinked, struck silent for a moment, then finally, nodded slowly and lifted it from the pillow, handing it to him slowly. His fingers brushed hers. A jolt shot up her arm. She yanked her hand back, staring at him.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered. “It can’t be.”
He smiled. “That’s the one thing this town does well – the impossible. Now, how about we sort that crown for you and perhaps a room for the night?”
“Uh-“
He went to the counter and Helena followed, setting the crown down before him. She couldn’t stop staring. She was a creature of old magic, of power and eternity. Impossible things were rare, for she was sure she’d seen everything but a town like this? Appearing in the middle of nowhere, where her dead husband ran a little antique store? It had to be a trick right, some mysterious illusion. A cruel trick of the light.
She must’ve looked alarmed or disturbed because he took the crown, wrapping it in delicate tissue paper, smiling reassuringly. If it was a dream, it wasn’t the worst one to be ensnared by. He finished wrapping the crown and rang up the cost for her, just one dollar.
He looked at her again, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry. We often get strangers wander into this town. Everyone’s looking for something, missing something and it’s the job of this town to help with that. So, I’m quite sure we can help you with whatever you’re missing.”
ns 15.158.61.17da2
