“Sure. Show me.”

  Nails led the way out of the showroom and into the shop area. The shop had two bays where all things motorcycle could be done, from complete overhauls to detailed painting. The immaculately clean bays were empty, but I was certain they wouldn’t be for long. Nails stopped and pointed to a framed poster atop one of the work tables.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  The poster was standard advertising pulp. There was a tricked-out motorcycle in front of Nails and CueBall, who smiled broadly. Behind the men were racks of motorcycle parts, and of course, the name of the business. While it wouldn’t win any prizes for creativity, it would look just fine in Happy Blendings.

  “Perfect,” I said.

  “You mean that?”

  “I do. And we’ll hang it right behind the counter, where every customer will see it.”

  “That would be great. You’re a godsend, Samantha.”

  I spent a few more minutes with Nails, eating my hot dog and being shown the entire shop. They did indeed have lots of parts for many types of bikes. I found myself wondering if I needed a motorcycle for my short jaunts to the house and back. It would certainly be faster, and I could probably pull more produce in my wagon. I would have to think about it.

  “Hey, how about meeting us at the brewery tonight to celebrate our first day of business?” Nails asked.

  “I’ll have to take a rain check,” I said. “Things to do.”

  “You can’t put us off for long,” he said. “You’ve been a big help.”

  “I haven’t done anything.”

  I left and stopped in Good Eats. Tessa, looking a big worn about the eyes, came to my table as soon as I sat down.

  “You should have stayed,” Tessa said. “Things got very interesting.”

  “Why, because you were using magic to make those incredible shots?”

  “Not me. Bubbles made those shots, and I’m not at all sure how she did it.” Tessa grinned.

  “You’re having fun with this aren’t you?”

  “A lot of fun. Reminds me of my time in Paris. Those were some wild nights.”

  “You have a daughter,” I reminded her.

  “Allie is fine with it. She wants her mother to have some fun once in a while.”

  I hadn’t talked to Allie, so I wasn’t sure just how “fine with it” Allie was.

  “As long as it’s once in a while, then, it’s fine,” I said. “Hey, have you been to the chopper shop?”

  “That place is cool,” Allie said.

  I looked over to where Allie stood, and she looked every bit as comfortable as her mother. I thought that perhaps Allie was indeed okay with “Bubbles”.

  “I would love to have a motorcycle,” Allie said.

  “Not on a dare,” Tessa said. “Not until you’re all grown up and out on your own. And even then, I won’t like it.”

  At that moment, someone at the counter called for Tessa, and she left Allie with me.

  “Got a minute, Aunt Sam?” Allie asked.

  “Sit,” I said. “But if you think I’ll go to bat for you about the motorcycle, you’re mistaken. Bikes are hugely dangerous, especially for young people.”

  “I’m responsible,” she said as she sat. “But that’s not what I want to bring up. It’s mom that worries me.”

  “The glamour spells?”

  Allie nodded. “Have you seen ‘Bubbles’?”

  “I have, and frankly, it’s not her best look.”

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “Nothing, at the moment.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “If we say something, or do something,” I continued, “we’re liable to make her angry, and she’ll keep doing it just for spite. You know your mother’s temper.”

  “I know my own too.”

  “Right, so we simply sit back and watch for the time being. If you think about it, she’s probably better off going there as ‘Bubbles’ than as Tessa. When Tessa starts hanging out at the brewery, then we will have a problem.”

  Allie thought a moment. “You’re probably right. As ‘Bubbles’, she can back off any time she wants, any time she gets bored. That wouldn’t be so easy as Tessa.”

  “Exactly.”

  Allie stood. “That makes me feel better. Thanks, Aunt Sam.”

  Allie went back to work, and I waved good-bye to Tessa.

  “You’re not eating?” Tessa asked.

  “Had a dog at the chop shop. Talk later.”

  I waved and headed back to Happy Blendings. Our smaller, homeward bound rush would begin soon.

  Riding home, I waited for Paula to arrive or an aura to rise over my house. Nothing happened, and that seemed strange in itself. As I walked into the house, I was overwhelmed by the most savory aromas I had ever experienced.

  “Dinner is served,” Cassandra said, as I entered the kitchen.

  “In the dining room,” Paula added.

  Smiling, I entered the dining room, completely surprised and happy. If Cassandra and Paula were going to start cooking dinner, I was going to get fat in no time.

  “Hello,” Phineas said from his seat at the table. “Cassandra was kind enough to invite us to dinner.”

  I looked, and Chuckles was perched on Phineas’ shoulder. “Well, hello, Phineas,” I said. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “How could I turn down a dinner that smells so heavenly? You have a very nice house here.”

  “It’s falling down around me,” I replied and took a seat. “But I do the best I can.”

  “Well, I stole peek at your library, and I have to say you have some very rare and interesting books.”

  I smiled, wondering just how many books Phineas had recognized. If he were really a wizard, then he had recognized the books of spells for what they were, tomes on magic. His smile back at me, told me nothing about his understanding of the books, leaving me to wonder. That was the problem with Phineas. We were always wondering.

  Cassandra waltzed in with a platter of stuffed mushrooms. I recognized the fruit of my gardens, and while I could make stuffed mushrooms, mine didn’t smell nearly as good as the ones on the platter.

  “Stuffed mushrooms, a la Cassandra,” she said and laughed.

  Phineas plucked two mushrooms off the platter. He ate one and fed the other to Chuckles.

  “Delicious,” Phineas said.

  I grabbed a mushroom and took a bite. Phineas wasn’t lying. The taste was exquisite, rivaling the best Tessa could make. And it was while I was finishing the morsel that Chuckles fell off Phineas’ shoulder, landing on the hardwood floor with a THUNK.

  Chapter 5

  “Oh, my Lord,” Cassandra said.

  “Chuckles?” Phineas said. “Are you playing dead again?”

  Paula fluttered about the room, not saying anything. I slipped out of my chair, even as Phineas lifted Chuckles off the floor and set the rooster on the table.

  “Is he all right?” Cassandra asked.

  I looked over, and I could see Chuckles’ eyes starting to glaze over, a sure sign of death. Phineas put his cheek to Chuckles’ beak, seeking a breath of some kind. Then, Phineas put his ear to the rooster’s chest.

  “Chuckles?” Phineas asked again.

  “I am so sorry,” Cassandra said. “Are roosters allergic to certain foods?”

  Phineas stood and forced a smile. “I’m afraid Chuckles has...moved on. I’m taking him home.”

  “Phineas,” I said. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing, Samantha, nothing. Chuckles was not a young bird. I suppose I have purposely overlooked symptoms of some illness. I thought...well, it makes no matter.” Phineas picked up the bird. “I apologize for ruining your perfectly lovely meal.”

  “Phineas,” Cassandra said. “I am so so sorry.”

  “It is not your fault,” Phineas said. “Not your fault at all.”

  I noticed a tear on Phineas’ cheek as he turned for the door. I wanted to do something for him, but I was too stunned to be able to think clearly. Everything had happened in minutes. He was out the door before I could even move. Then, I jumped up and ran after him.

  “Phineas!” I called as I left the house. He was placing Chuckles in his car, and he turned, shutting the door.

  “Go back to your dinner,” Phineas said. “I’ll take care of Chuckles.”

  “I want to tell you that if you need help with anything, anything at all, you just call me. I’ll be there for you.”

  “I know, Samantha. You’re a good person. And I think there might be something you can do, but not right now. May I call on you in a day or two?”

  “Of course. And come to the shop whenever you can. You’re always welcome.”

  He nodded and climbed into his car. I watched as he drove away. When I returned to the dining room, I found Cassandra and Paula at the table, eating the stuffed mushrooms.

  “I’m very sorry about the rooster,” Cassandra said. “But I don’t think it was the mushrooms.”

  “He was not doing well,” Paula said. “I could tell.”

  “Phineas thinks it’s just old age,” I said. “Not the mushrooms.”

  “Well, we can’t let the food go to waste. Shall we keep going?”

  I thought a moment. While the death of Chuckles was hard, I didn't want to offend Cassandra. I didn’t think Chuckles or Phineas would mind if we kept eating.

  “Bring on the next course,” I told Cassandra. “And a glass of wine. We will toast the loss of our friend’s companion.”

  “Exactly,” Cassandra said. “We will celebrate Chuckles’ life.”

  We did celebrate. The food was wonderful, and the wine complimented everything. We sat at the table for several hours, toasting Chuckles and Phineas and telling stories about people we knew who had passed on before us. I went to bed feeling both happy and sad. I was sad because Chuckles was gone. I was happy because there were still many, many wonderful people in Goodsprings. I fell asleep, thanking the heavens for the coven.

  By lunch time the next day, everyone in my circle of friends knew about Chuckles and Phineas. For the first time since I had opened Happy Blendings, Phineas did not come in for a smoothie. I was tempted to take one to him, but in times of grief, it is better to leave people alone to do their mourning. I was certain that Phineas would come back to the smoothie shop—in his good time. In fact, I was surprised to see him walk through the door shortly after lunch.

  “Phineas,” I said. “What can I get you?”

  “I think, I think I would like a wheatgrass smoothie,” he said. “And I wish for you to put out the word. I will hold a short memorial service for Chuckles at the cemetery. In the corner, where they bury animal companions. I would appreciate it if you can be there.”

  “Certainly, we’ll be there,” I said. “Just say when.”

  “Tomorrow,” he said. “At six AM.”

  “Six AM?” I asked.

  “Dawn,” he said. “Chuckles was a rooster. He loved the dawn of a new day.”

  “I’ll pass the word,” I said. “And we’ll all be there.”

  Phineas took his smoothie, but he didn’t go to sit on the back patio. He left the building, and I started calling.

  “Six AM?” Tessa asked, over the phone. “Is he kidding?”

  “Chuckles was a rooster. What did you expect?”

  “I expected a sane hour, but don’t worry, Sam, I’ll be there.”

  I called Mara and Genevive and the other witches within our community, and while they all groused a bit, they promised to be at the memorial service. Even Cassandra and Paula, who had not known Phineas very long, agreed to be at the cemetery. It was a tribute to the goodness of Phineas that everyone agreed to come.

  After my phone calls, Nails entered, carrying the framed poster he had shown me. With David’s help, Nails hung the poster behind the counter, right where everyone could see it. He stood in front and smiled.

  “It looks great there,” Nails said.

  “I hope it generates some business for you,” I said.

  “I’m sure it will. Up for your complimentary beer tonight?” he asked.

  “Wish I could,” I said. “But I have a very early event tomorrow. I can’t stay out.”

  “What is it, if I may ask,” he said.

  So, I told Nails about Phineas and Chuckles, and how Chuckles had keeled over in my dining room. Nails nodded in understanding.

  “I had a dog once, a mutt. He was the most loyal dog in the world, always by my side. He liked to ride in my saddle bag, looking out at everything passing by. When he died, I felt I had lost my best friend. Maybe he was. So, I know what’s going on. We’ll do the beer some other night.”

  “You know Nails likes you, right?” David said after Nails had left.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “He just wants his poster hung up.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. I know Nails, and he never says anything about himself, especially about his dog. You haven’t seen his place. I have. Dog pictures all over. I never knew about the dog till I went inside. That he told you is a big step for him.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I said. “He was just being friendly because of Chuckles, nothing more.”

  David said no more, but for a moment, I wondered if Nails did like me. Not that it mattered. While I found Nails somewhat attractive and certainly friendly, I didn’t consider him anything more. I hoped he didn’t think I could be something more.

  Cassandra and Paula were waiting for me when I walked through the door. They looked a bit guilty, and I wondered what mischief they had gotten into. Since they had arrived, it seemed that I had had nothing but bad luck.

  “What?” I asked.

  Cassandra smiled. “Nothing. Isn’t that the best news you’ve had in a week? There is nothing off kilter today. Paula and I made it.”

  “We didn’t do much,” Paula said. “We didn’t want to make a mess.”

  I laughed. “A mess would do just fine. What would life be if we didn’t create a mess once in a while?”

  “Once in a while would be fine,” Cassandra. “Just not every day, like we do.”

  “You do nothing of the kind. What do you say to leftovers? Last night’s meal was so good, I think we should do it again.”

  “We agree,” Cassandra said. “Sit down and have a glass of wine, while we warm up everything.”

  I agreed, pouring myself a glass of red wine and letting them fix dinner. It seemed like teamwork.

  The next morning, everyone assembled in the corner of the cemetery. Phineas stood next to a shallow, small grave. A red coffin sat on the ground by the grave, and I was reminded that Chuckles didn’t need a big coffin or hole. Close to Phineas was the prophocis that had been in my storeroom. It looked perfectly human and perfectly at ease. The dawn was cool, the sun rising from the east. As the light spread over us, Phineas spoke.

  “Thank you for coming,” he began. “This won’t take long. Not because Chuckles wasn’t beloved, but because he was. We do not need to sing any praises. We all knew him well. And yes, I must sound inane when I speak of a rooster as if he’s human. But for me, Chuckles was human. He listened to my complaints and crowed at the right times and stayed with me in sickness and in health. I took care of him also, although his needs were few. Perhaps the most fitting tribute I can give Chuckles is to wish that each and every one of you will find a companion such as Chuckles. You will be the better for it.”

  Phineas paused for a moment, and I knew the rest of us did indeed wish for a constant companion.

  “That is all,” Phineas said.

  With that, Phineas placed the coffin in the hole, and with a shovel, covered the coffin with dirt. We all stood by, keeping Phineas company. Finished, he turned to us and smiled.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said.

  One by one, we walked up to Phineas, hugged him, whispered our condolences, and walked away. I was reminded that life wasn’t solely the realm of humans. There were many, many living things on the planet, and they all deserved a bit of honor.

  Things were a bit subdued in the Happy Blendings. For the regulars, Chuckles was a big loss. For newcomers, it was something they couldn’t understand. Who would mourn a rooster? Cassandra sat at a table, where she talked to Paula in low tones. David and I worked. Nails came in for a smoothie, and I couldn’t help but remember what David had said about Nails’ attention. I still didn’t believe it, but Nails was standing right in front of me.

  “Hey, Samantha,” Nails said. “You know most everyone in town. Is there someone dependable and honest who would work with a couple of bikers?”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. “Most of the people you would hire are already working, as you would expect. But I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’ll do it. I’ll work in the biker shop.”

  Nails and I turned to the voice, and there stood Cassandra, Paula on her shoulder.

  “Excuse me for asking,” Nails said. “But why would you want to work in a biker shop?”

  “Well, for one thing, I’m unemployed,” Cassandra said. “So, the money will come in handy. Not that I expect a lot. It’s more in the line of needing something to do before Samantha kicks me out of her house.”

  “I would never do that,” I protested.

  “I know,” Cassandra said. “But Nails understands. People who don’t have a reason to get up in the morning, don’t get up in the morning. Sometimes, they don’t get up at all.”

  “Know anything about motorcycles?” Nails asked.

  “I know they have two wheels instead of four, and they are often very loud. Anything else, I can learn.”

  “I don’t know,” Nails hedged.

  “You need someone, and you need someone who might just bring in the curious. Now, what is more curious than an old woman with a talking parrot?”

  “True, true,” Paula added.

  Nails laughed. “A talking parrot that seems to understand everything.” He studied Cassandra a moment. “Okay,” he said. “You’re hired—on a trial basis.”

  “I wouldn’t abide any other kind,” Cassandra said.

  “If it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings?” Nails asked.

 

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