The Severis Tales 2: Mouse

The Severis Tales

2: Mouse

(C)2018.11 Patrick Rivers

Many believe that the autumn season is the prettiest season of all. The leaves undergo a transformation of colour, and fall at the slightest touch. Squirrels and other woodland creatures scurry to store food away for their winter hibernation. The birds migrate south for the warmer climates. It is all a race, as the nights get colder, and the days become shorter.

However, things in Barlett never change. Be it winter, spring, summer, or autumn, the shops and streets are always full. Food and drink are eaten merrily, shops sell their goods, and smiles are all around town.

No better example of this everyday cycle of life is presented more than at Severis General Goods, located on Ash Street, in Barlett’s east end. This is the shop owned by Leena and Xiveer Severis, who either run it tirelessly together, or take it in turns, often without help. Assisting them is Reena MacTavish, a lonely Highlands woman with a noticeable Glaswegian-like accent, who longs one day to cross the sea, and return home.

For Xiveer, today is just like any other day. At 8:00 in the morning, he slides the key into the door of the shop, walks inside, and locks it again. The shop is open every weekday at eight-thirty, but one must have time to prepare.

At quarter past eight, he puts the float in the till. In the autumn, the sun begins to shine through the thick, heavy curtains, bringing a dulled sense of life to the shop. The light of life, as he calls it, because the light only gets brighter, and brings every corner of the old shop to life. That is, until the sun beams between the curtains, and blinds him.

Five minutes later, there is a loud knock at the front door. Xiveer peered through the curtain. A pouting Reena stands impatiently, waiting to be let in, the morning chill freezing her breath onto the glass. He smiled, and opened the door. “Good morning, Reena!” he greeted her warmly.

“Yeah, good morning to you too!” Reena replied. She went into the back room, and hung up her toque, scarf, and coat on the coat rack.

“Is that sarcasm I heard in your voice?” Xiveer said, rubbing his hands. “Look, I’m sorry to drag you out on your day off, but Leena is busy tending to Michale, and I need a delivery done as soon as possible!”

“Not looking after Larry, then?” she said sarcastically. “Isn’t that the first immature child?”

Xiveer laughed. “No, Michale tied Larry’s tail to his bed post again. Otherwise, he’s absolutely fine. College life is keeping him busy enough, that is, if he even has a life. That, and his other-worldly goals of becoming one of those astrology-things, or whatever…”

“It’s a new area that has everyone talking. You should be glad he’s taking part in what is the future of Algenon,” Reena paused for a moment, and peered into the shop. “Hang on, what did you say about a delivery?”

“Mrs. Aptow had to reschedule her delivery for today.” Xiveer said.

Reena whined. “Oh, why do I have to go to Mrs. Aptow’s farm? It’s dusty and full of mice, thanks to her massive potato crops. Besides, she’s…you know…um…”

Xiveer raised an eyebrow. “Quite lonely?”

Reena came out to the shop floor, looking disgruntled. “Mr. Severis, I’m twenty-five years old, and she’s forty-two!” She threw the dusting wand at Xiveer. “That’s a little creepy, don’t you think?” While a respectable woman, Reena is sometimes put off by people’s body language or actions. She often unintentionally misinterprets them. She isn’t entirely comfortable with Mrs. Aptow, even though the latter is quite sociable, whereas Reena isn’t.

Xiveer dusted an empty shelf. “Reena, Mrs. Aptow is a farmer. She’s all about touchy-feely. She grafts for a living, harvesting potatoes on a large scale. As for the mice, it’s an old farm, and with great produce comes great pests.”

Reena sulked. “Yeah, I know…”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that! Think of it this way: we are Barlett’s link to her fantastic potatoes. She is our most important customer–well, one of them, that is. We get her deliveries through, she rewards Barlett with potatoes! Lots of grubby, earthy, rich potatoes!” Xiveer threw the duster back at Reena. “Love them potatoes! Besides don’t tell me your own Highlands are mice-free, hm?”

“Alright, then how do you explain that over-friendliness, then?” she asked him directly.

“I just explained that! Or, do you have those dusters growing out of your ears as well?” Xiveer tugged at his cardigan. “I’ve known Mrs. Aptow for many years. She’s just playing with you. It’s her way of being friendly. Don’t be such a scaredy cat!”

They walked into the warehouse. The carriage was already loaded. All that is needed is a horse. The list is quite a sizable one, guaranteed to bring in a lot of cash. Xiveer promised her, that if she makes this one delivery, she can have the rest of the day off. She has never been let down yet; so, she accepted the task.

Out in the yard, Reena attached the horse to the wagon. It is a long trip to Mrs. Aptow’s farm, so she supplied herself with hot tea and biscuits to stay warm. Everything was grand, until the horse farted.

“Good god,” Xiveer commented as he opened up the yard doors. Even from twenty metres away, he could take a guess as to what the horse had for dinner. “Well, off ‘ya go!” he said, waving her off with one hand, and waving the stench away with the other.

An unhappy Reena yawned as she rolled into the back alley. She turned the corner onto Ash street, and rode on west on a journey that will take her out of town, and into the farm fields.

As Xiveer locked the yard doors, he heard the door open, and the bell ring. It must be half past eight, which usually is when he expects his first customer, the elderly Mrs. Bigglsworth. Although in her seventies, she is very energetic, and is often seen in separate areas of town in a single day.

Inside the shop, Mrs. Bigglesworth felt the tops of the loaves of bread on display, checking for freshness. Xiveer came out of the warehouse with a plastered smile on his face. “Ah, good morning, Mrs. Bigglesworth! Just how are we this fine morning?” he said cheerfully, rubbing his hands for warmth.

“Your breads are a little stiff and dry, Mr. Severis.” Mrs. Bigglesworth said coldly.

“A hot bath and some tea will fix that, but let’s return to the bread,” Xiveer said. “What’s wrong with them? They’ve been kept fresh! They’re fine, I tell ‘ya!”

The old woman brought two small loaves to the counter. “The problem is, the may be fresh on the inside, but dry and hard on the outside! They’re like the young today, back when I–”

“Yes, whip them into shape, Mrs. Bigglesworth, just like the good ol’ days,” Xiveer said. “But, I still say, that is the benefit of a nice, thick crust! You see, it’s a big wrapper, like a blanket, keeping you warm and fresh. When you remove that thick crust, the devouring fresh smell makes its way through the room, it’s deliciousness flowing into the noses of anyone who happens to come by!”

Mrs. Bigglesworth put fifty cents onto the counter, while Xiveer bagged the loaves. “You may peddle that shopkeeper’s charm well, but one day, you will meet the wrong person, and you will regret it. Goodbye, Mr. Severis.” she said, walking off.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Bigglesworth! Come again!” Xiveer said. After she left, he turned around, and stomped on the floor. “Damn! So close!” he said to himself, putting the money in the till.

And so, the day went on as usual. Customers came and went, goods were sold, and money was made. The shop is unusually busy, but then again, people are stocking up on dry goods, in preparation for the forecasted cold autumn, and bitterly cold winter.

~ # ~

Meanwhile, Reena successfully trotted over the muddy tracks to the house at Mrs. Aptow’s farm. She unloaded the goods in exchange for the payment by the ever-so-beaming farmer. Then, the socializing started. Mrs. Aptow flung her hands about, talking about the day and the weather. Reena went along, until Mrs. Aptow put her hand on Reena. It caused a reflex action in Reena. Unable to cope, she gave Mrs. Aptow an excuse to flee back to Barlett Town.

Around eleven in the morning, Reena returned to the shop. She stabled the horse, and came through the back entrance. In the back room, Xiveer had lit a fire to keep warm. He was sitting in a chair with his cardigan buttoned up, and smoking his pipe, while having a cup of tea and a biscuit. “You’re back pretty quick!” he said, raising his pipe to Reena. “What did I tell ‘ya? Nothing to worry about!”

Reena dropped the bag of cash onto the table. It made a loud crash sound that vibrated the surface. “I told you, she’s too touchy! We had a conversation, then she leaned in, gently put her hand on my shoulder, and invited me for tea! What the hell does that mean?”

Xiveer glanced up. “It means she invited you for tea. Look, there are people who are sociable in many ways. Some are direct with their hands, while some are more physical. She isn’t coming on to you. She’s a bit socially despondent because she can’t get out to town much. You know what? You should take her up on her offer,” He got up out of his chair. “Why don’t you go now? Go on–take the horse back out. All expenses paid. It will do you a world of good. Maybe you two will find something in common!”

Reena protested. “But…it’s my day off!” Xiveer gave her an insistent look. Perhaps it was a good idea. After all, she should be mature enough to handle it. Maybe because of her own isolation, she does not want to relate to Mrs. Aptow herself. But, there was no way out of it.

“Alright, I’ll go.” she said with a heavy sigh.

Xiveer clapped. “I knew you would do the right thing! Well, off you pop, then! Just be back before eight-thirty!”

This time, Reena went through the front, and grabbed a few items off the shelf. She passed Leena on the way in. “Hello, Reena!” Leena greeted her.

“Hello, Mrs. Severis. Goodbye, Mrs. Severis.” Reena replied, walking back to the warehouse.

Xiveer came out to greet his puzzled wife, who kissed him on the cheek. “What was that all about?” she asked.

“Reena thinks Mrs. Aptow is trying lesbian advances on her, and is terrified of it,” he said with a light chuckle. “I told her to take the horse and go do a proper social call, just to calm her fears.”

Leena laughed. “They’re twenty or so years apart, never mind the fact that Mrs. Aptow is happily married. “I guess some just don’t like that level of closeness.”

“Everyone’s different, and fair enough to her. However, this keeps happening, and with winter coming, Reena will be doing more frequent visits to the farm. I’m confident this will do her a world of good, and for our customers. Maybe she will take the initative, and give us more free time. What do you think?”

Leena hung her coat and scarf in the back room. “Well, I suppose you’re right. Anyway, let me take over. Go and enjoy your lunch,” She rubbed the horns on his head, making him giggle. “You deserve a break.”

As usual, Xiveer retreated back to the small room, which apart from the fireplace, contains a small kitchen with running water. He made himself a pot of stew, and ate half, saving the latter for Leena. For the remainder of his lunch, he puts his feet up on a stool by the fireplace, and while smoking his pipe, he read the newspaper. He and Leena alternate in schedule, had have done so for the past fifteen years, minus the pipe.

Xiveer’s lunch break occurred just like normal, until something happened that turned the day into like no other. Soething caused him to put his newspaper down. His pointy ears twitched, focussing on a sound that did not belong. It sounded like movement, but with a squeak. After a few seconds, it stopped. Shrugging it off, he returned to the newspaper.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a massive shadow dart past the oven, disappearing around the counter. He sat up in the chair. “What the hell was that?!” he said to himself.

Leena was sweeping the shop floor when Xiveer came bursting in, eyeing each corner and crevice like a lunatic. He poked around corners, looking between shelves of goods, and peeking inside cabinets. He bothered her so much, she had to stop. “My dear husband, what the hell are you doing?” she asked him quite politely.

“I don’t want you to panic, but I think we may have a big mouse in the shop!” Xiveer said.

Leena shrieked. “A mouse? What? Don’t joke around like that!”

Xiveer took her broom, and poked it furiously in the places he could not reach. “It must have hitched a ride on Reena’s cart when she returned from Mrs. Aptow’s farm.” he said.

“What do we do, then? We never had a pest problem in years!” Leena said as the door opened. “If Brackneed hears of this…”

If Brackneed hears of what?

Leena and Xiveer froze in place, with him muttering “Um…shit.” They turned around, and smiled.

Brackneed Vendyor, the Severis’ direct competition in the posh west end, and owner of Brackneed’s, decided to pay them a visit. In contrast to their rural clothes, Brackneed sported the highest quality of tweed, with a black cape, silk scarf, and a top hat. He likes to poke the Severis’ buttons, mainly to wind them up, and today is no different.

Xiveer squirmed. “Hello, Brackneed! Look at what the dog cra–I mean, a good day to you, sir!”

Brackneed placed his top hat on the counter. “As always, I’m doing just fine! I thought I’d pop in, have a browse, and see how the weather’s treating you! Can’t a fellow shopkeeper come in and have a one-on-one chat between businesspeople? How’s business?”

“Oh, come off of it, will ‘ya? That ain’t none of your business!” Xiveer went behind the counter, and over to a display. “Would you like a fresh tea cake, Mr. Vendyor? Fresh from Peren Stockwood’s bakery. You know what? How about a discount: five cents, just for you!”

Brackneed touched one of the cakes. “Are you sure they’re fresh? This one’s moist.”

Leena flicked her long hair back. “I bet all the girls say that to you…” she quipped.

“Egh!” a disgusted Brackneed recoiled, walking backwards. “Do you always have to be that disgusting? I tell you, none of my staff would ever mention something like that to the faces of my customers!”

Leena pressed him. “Have a cake! Spend some of that big posh money, or are you too rich to afford freshness and quality?”

Brackneed grumbled, and paid a nickel for the cake. It was indeed delicious and fresh, only spoiled by Leena’s unnecessary comment. “Okay, you got me. It’s delicious.”

While Brackneed ate the cake, the crumbs fell to the ground. The mouse Xiveer had fretted about made its first appearance to them both, coming out from a display of postcards, picking up the crumbs. In less than a second, their eyes quickly glanced down to the mouse, then back at Brackneed. What they saw was a mouse nearly ten times the size of a normal one, like the size of a small puppy.

“Eek!” Xiveer squeaked.

Brackeed looked at him. “Why did you go eek?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all!” he said nervously. Leena’s teeth gnashed as the mouse evaded Brackneed’s moving feet. To distract him, Xiveer went to a can of tea bags, and played with them. “You know, Mr. Vendyor, loyalty comes not just with good customer service, but with prestige. Look at this shop–it’s old, rustic, and full of wonder. We have products from both near and far. Our shop is much older than yours. It has seen action. Queen Ezra II once came here! What can you say about your clean, rich posh shop of yours? Eh, Joyce?”

Brackneed snorted. “Don’t you dare use my middle name! We shall see who has the best prestige and loyalty!” As he looked down, the mutant mouse ran off behind the postcard rack, and out of sight. Leena held her hands together, praying Brackneed does not notice the mouse droppings. Thankfully, he was non the wiser.

However, he continued on his rant. “I mean, look at it, these dusty floor boards! This isn’t a shop, but a barn!” He lumbered up to Xiveer. “Would you want to bet a wager on who will do best? Of course not, because I will win! Ha!” He grabbed his top hat, and waved it about Xiveer’s face. “Good day, folks!” he said, leaving.

Leena fell onto the counter. “He didn’t see it! Thank god!” she cried.

Xiveer turned to his wife. “I bet all the girls say that? What the world made you say that? I mean, you’ve said some bizarre and playfully disgusting things before, but never to a fat man in a top hat before!”

“I’m sorry, but it just came out!” she said. “He just gets on my nerves. He waltzes in here, and boasts about himself. It’s aggravating!”

Xiveer slumped into a casual pose. “Anything you want to tell me?” Leena glanced at him, and quickly closed the counter top door on his fingers. “Owww! That hurts!” he wailed, blowing on his fingers to ease the pain.

“Focus, you moron!” Leena shouted. “Did you see the size of that thing? I swear to god Mr. Vendyor was going to see that mouse! I nearly had my period! Can you imagine how embarrassing that would be?”

Xiveer covered his ears. “Alright, alright! Just stop saying gross things! I’ll behave, honestly!”

“What are we going to do, then? If he finds out, we’re finished! Do you hear me?”

Xiveer gently pushed Leena away. “Calm down, dear. We will get through this! I just need to think…” He twiddled his horns for several seconds, spun the cake displays, and rearranged the brooms on sale, all for the sake of an idea, but nothing came to mind.

Then, Leena gasped. “What if he comes back? What if he sends his goons, Barnaby and Veera?” she said, impatiently pointing at the door.

The idea hit Xiveer like a brick on the head. “That’s it! We’ll have to do some surveillance!” He glanced around until he saw the mall corner of travelling gear, and smiled. “I got it! We cannot risk them coming back. We need to know if he knows. While I take care of the mouse, you will go under cover to the west end!”

“Are you serious?” she said. “You know I’m a terrible mystery shopper. I tried last year. Mila caught me almost immediately when I walked into her pub.”

“To be honest, it works best on those you don’t know; but never mind–you’ll be fine!” He grabbed a hot pink scarf, a green knitted toque, a beige jacket, and a white cotton sweater. Leena put on the outfit. She sttood in front of a full body mirror, and twirled around, while Xiveer laughed. “See? What did I tell ‘ya?”

Leena fidgeted. “I don’t like this! I’m going to be discovered! Oh my…”

Xiveer walked her to the door. “All you have to do is keep you eyes and ears open. If anything happens, come back at once. In the meantime, I will deal with the customers and this flipping rodent from hell.”

She went outside, then turned around again. “Oh, why can’t you go instead?”

Xiveer pointed at his horns. “I don’t do hats well. Besides, you’re better at masking your voice than I am. Have faith in yourself!” He kissed Leena on the lips, and turned her around. “Good luck!”

The door closed, leaving Leena to sulk even more. She bundled the scarf up to her face, and pulled the toque down to her eyebrows, muttering to herself, “Alright, let’s get this over with,” and walking off to the west end of town.

~ # ~

Meanwhile, Reena made her way back to Mrs. Aptow’s farm. She pulled the wagon up to the house, and stared out into space. “Why am I so stubborn with this? She’s just a nice lady, and grows lots of potatoes!” she thought. But, it was now or never. With a deliberate exhale, she went up to the front door, and knocked.

Mrs. Aptow opened the door, and smiled. “Ms. Reena! Hello, dear!” she said cheerfully.

“Hello, Mrs. Aptow,” Reena said. “I thought I would take you up on your offer for tea and biscuits. That is, if it’s not inconvenient…”

“Not at all! Come on in!” She let Reena inside. “Go right into the kitchen, and sit yourself down.”

Nervous, Reena slung her coat around the back of the chair, and sat down. While Mrs. Aptow made tea, she looked around the small, but very comfortable house. It has a country feel, with wooden beams and planks, wooden furniture, complete with an old, varnished cartwheel mounted on the sitting room wall. The kitchen, made of oak and pine, is just as old. Leaf-like decoration adorned the cabinet doors and drawers. She began to ease up, feeling more comfortable with every passing moment.

Mrs. Aptow returned with a silver tray with a teapot, two teacups, and a plate of tea biscuits. “Here we are.” she said, pouring the tea.

“Thank you,” Reena said. She sampled the black breakfast tea. It is a strong brew with the smell and taste of hazelnuts. The aroma hit her nose, and she smiled. “Delicious!”

“I’m glad you like it. I had it imported at great expense from Europa. It’s a specialty tea that comes all the way from Braagburg, up in the Highlands.” Mrs. Aptow said, breaking open a fresh tea biscuit. “Well worth the price, wouldn’t you say?”

“Braagburg has a history of making excellent pastries and scones and cakes,” Reena said, eating a piece of tea biscuit. “I come from Braagburg.”

“No way! Really? I always wanted to go there,” Mrs. Aptow said. “Unfortunately, my dedication to the farm does not allow me to travel. Ah well, the sacrifices we make…”

Renna shrugged. “I’m trying to get home myself, saving up the money I earn to get at ticket back to the Highlands. Never happens, though…”

Mrs. Aptow took a quick sip of tea. “Oh? I thought you liked it here.”

“Well, I came to Barlett a few years ago to do something exciting–a career, or something else I was good at. That failed, and since I hadn’t enough money to return, I had to settle, and get a job, so I can go home,” Reena took a sip of her tea, and burnt her tongue. “Don’t get me wrong–I like what I do at Severis General Goods. I like Leena and Xiveer–they’re very nice people. Well, I mean, he’s okay, except for…”

“His demented behaviour?” Mrs. Aptow said, laughing. “That man is such a child sometimes. His daft personality is sometimes a little too much, even for me. I’ve know him a long time. But, I suppose it takes all sorts.”

“It does, but one day, I will have to leave…” Reena stared out of the kitchen window. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my folks.”

Mrs. Aptow poured Reena another cup of tea. “Homesick, are we? I hope they know where you are. You know, you remind me of when I was your age, and on my own. I was even younger than you. I must have been, oh, eighteen years when I set off from the far west. Ah, those were the days…”

What Reena thought was going to be an edgy afternoon quickly turned into one of great interest. She found herself listening intently. She thought the fear would return, but it did not. Xiveer may have been right after all–maybe they do have something in common, and maybe she was withering in her own low self-esteem. So, without thinking, Reena asked, “What happened?”

“Well, like you, I came to explore, and see what all the counties out here were like. I came to the Marius County. Then, a bit of a political situation happened in the prairies, and all the routes were cut off. By the time the situation was resolved, most of my money was used trying staying alive. I ended up stranded in Marius. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared. But, with nothing else to loose, I decided to do a bit more exploring. I ended up here, in Barlett. I managed to find work, and after awhile, a place to sleep. With the new international postal service, I kept in touch with my family back home,” She looked up at the wall. An oil painting of her family back out west hung proud. It was sent to her by her elder brother. “Maybe one day, I can get out there, or they can come here. Honestly, everything good has happened here. I even met my husband, and a few years later, we started the farm. It was hard at first…hm…”

Reena squinted. “I feel you’re trying to tell me a moral story…”

Mrs. Aptow put her hand on Reena’s wrist. She looked down, expecting herself to wrench it away. This time, it felt different. It did not feel as shocking. Instead, it felt like a gesture of friendship, a lonely woman who is just seeking some social companionship. Reena did not feel so afraid anymore. As well, she did not feel as alone as she once did.

“I know how you feel, even if you don’t show it,” Mrs. Aptow said. “What I’m saying is, don’t feel so down on yourself. At least you have somewhere to stay. It took a long time before I found a place. As long as you stay in touch with your family–even if they are thousands of kilometres away–you will be closer to them than you will ever be. Make the most of what you have, dear. Be happy, and the rest will take care of itself.”

Reena sat back, and thought on her words. She never expected someone else to share their own life story with her, and in the end, it made her feel much better. Perhaps longing to go home isn’t the answer after all. “I have been down these past few weeks. I do miss them, but I should do better. Maybe you’re right–if I keep my head up, things won’t be so bad. I do feel much better now. Thanks.”

Mrs. Aptow smiled. “My pleasure,” Before either of them could sink deeper into their own sorrows, she stood up with the tea pot in her hand. “More tea?”

Reena nodded. “Sure!”

They continued on, bantering about every other topic under the sun for at least the next few hours. Mrs. Aptow’s husband came home, More tea and biscuits were made, and the conversations went on.

~ # ~

A genuine hour of terror passed for Xiveer, as the shop became unexpectedly busy. Without missing a beat, he applied his usual shopkeeper’s charm and warm attitude, never letting them know that something was wrong. What was more alarming for him was the absence of the mouse, which probably is frightened of the crowds and boot stomps.

After the large influx of customers left, he closed the shop, and put up a sign that read, “Periodic Maintenance, will open soon!”He rolled the curtains down, and got to work.

First, he took the broom, and tried again to coax the mouse out from underneath the cabinets. When that failed, he laid down on the ground to see underneath. The enormous mouse suddenly charged at him. He yelped girlishly as it ran across his face, struggling to get up over his scaled skin, matted black hair, and horns. The mouse went across the shop floor, and hid under the medicines cabinet against the other wall. His heart beating, Xiveer sat up against the counter, breathing heavily. “That little ass-wipe just violated my face!” he said aloud. “What the hell does Mrs. Aptow feed those things?”

He spend a couple more minutes thinking, and came up with a second idea. Of course! Cheese! All mice love cheese! He went into the cellar, and found the only cheese he had in stock: Lamburst-style Aged: a soft cheese similar in taste and pungency to our real-world Limburger cheese. It cost a pretty penny, but what the hell–desperate times call for desperate measures. Xiveer paid for the cheese out of his own pocket, and prepared a trap in the middle of the floor, breaking off a piece of the eye-watering cheese, and placing it carefully in the trap. He then hid behind the counter, and waited.

The curious smell made the large mouse come out of hiding to investigate. Xiveer clenched his fists, waiting with excitement and anticipation. Yes! Take the damn cheese! Off with your head!

The mouse took a closer sniff. It let out a horrified squeak, and audibly gagged at the smell. It was just too pungent. The mouse retreated across the shop floor, back to safety. “Dammit!” Xiveer shouted with annoyance. He checked out the trap, accidentally springing it with his hand. “This guy’s good!” he cried. It is worse for him, as he was still in pain from when Leena closed the counter top door on him.

~ # ~

Meanwhile, dressed like a neon snowman, Leena took her time moving through Barlett Town’s posh west end district. The area is known for its lavish tastes, expensive building facades, expensive fashion, expensive food, and expensive homes. Her outfit contrasted with most of the fashion in the area, sticking out like a sore thumb.

It was around seven in the evening when the sky began to darken. The temperature dropped to the high single digits, cold enough to see your own breath. Wracked with nerves, Leena successfully evaded everyone’s queries, and made it to a small suburb in the west end, called Crescent Village. She kept her head down, and went around the corner of Stockwood Bakery, where she took a break, and to reflect. “Just what the hell am I doing here? Why am I even doing this?” were some of her more pressing thoughts.

She turned her head, observing a coach load of people get off at the station. One person in particular caught her attention. Isn’t that Tarla Wilfellow? What in god’s name is she doing out in these parts? She watched Tarla wander aimlessly with her suitcase, before plunking herself onto a bench.

Leena was about to give in and see to Tarla, when a voice called out behind her. “Good evening, Mrs. Severis!” She squawked, and turned around. Peren Stockwood had come out of the bakery with his broom to do some sweeping of the bakery steps before closing.

“Shh!” she hissed at him. “Don’t say my name!”

“Why not?” Peren asked. “Never mind that, why are you dressed like that?”

Her eyes shifted left and right. She could not think of a proper excuse, so she gave a half-hearted version of the truth. “I’m following people–you know, undercover, that sort of thing. Shop sales research. Yeah, that’s it!” she whispered.

Peren smiled, and tapped the side of his nose with his finger. “Ah, I get you. I won’t tell a soul. By the way, would you like a little bit of friendly advice concerning your disguise?”

Leena nodded.

“If you don’t hide your face and hair properly, it defeats the purpose of a disguise.”

A little embarrassed, she tucked her hair beneath her scarf and coat. While adjusting her scarf, she glimpsed at Tarla’s lifeless pose again, and frowned. “Listen, I have to go. Can you do me a huge favour?” She grabbed some money out of her pocket, and slapped it in Peren’s hand. “See that lady over there? I know her, but she doesn’t know I’m here, and I’m certain she isn’t supposed to be here. Some hot chocolate and a biscuit, or something, care of me.”

Peren peeked over Leena’s shoulder. “Will do,” he said, nodding. “You take care now!”

“Thanks!” Leena said, resuming her “mission.”

Peren darted into the bakery, returning with a small tray of hot chocolate and some warm biscuits. He went across the road, and over to the bench at the station. “Um, excuse me, Miss. Are you Tarla Wilfellow?” he asked shyly.

Tarla looked up at him, wearily. She was in a hell of a shape: her once short red hair was now shoulder-length, and weathered. She also looked exhausted: her skin was pale, and her eyes sunk. “Y..yes, I am Tarla.” she said faintly.

Peren passed the tray to her. “Lady by the name of Leena Severis was here a moment ago, but she had to leave. She asked me to give this to you.”

“Leena Severis? Larry’s mum? Really?” she said, holding the mug of hot chocolate in her hands.

Peren sat down on the bench. “Where are you heading? I take it you never meant to be here.”

Tarla took a bite of the warm biscuit. “I was supposed to catch the last coach to the College, but we were delayed. All I could do is get off here. It’s cold, it’s dark, and I’m stranded. I don’t know what to do…”

“Well, I’m just about to close up for the evening. But, I have to go out that way. Why don’t you come inside where it’s warm, and I’ll give you a lift when I’m finished.”

“Really? You would do that for me?” Tarla said. Her faint smile was as if it was the first one in many moons. She took a sip of the rich hot chocolate. “This is great. Thank you so much! Please thank Mrs. Severis for me. Or, maybe I can tell Larry later on…”

“Ah, you know Larry Severis, eh? What do you think of him?”

“He’s a good man, I suppose. I really only met him in the morning of registration day. I hear how he’s treated by others, and it’s awful!”

Peren nodded. “Kid gets picked on quite a bit, even by those who should know better. At least there are some people have sense. I do feel sorry for him.”

“He certainly is dragon-ish,” Tarla said. “My mum knows his mum, and I knew he was different-looking, but he really does look like he should be one and not the other, if you pardon the phrase,” She shivered, and stood up. “Mr. Stockwood, thank you for this, but let’s go inside, please.”

Peren, who is less dressed for the weather, agreed. They stepped into the bakery, and he proceeded to close up for the night.

~ # ~

Having spent hours travelling to the opposite side of Barlett, Leena found her way to St. Jerome Street, the heart of Barlett’s west end district. Even with her improved disguise, she was sure the people walking by would take notice, and call her out. To her grateful relief, no one noticed.

Further down the long road is Brackneed’s General Goods, her destination. Where her shop is rustic, dusty, and mysterious, Brackneed’s is golden, cleaner than clean, and more spacious, all points she is forced to concede. Even the front of the shop is grand, with mullion windows, a large step, a large overhead sign, and window border decorations to attract customers of all ages. Every time Leena passes by, she becomes painfully aware of the class divide between the east and west parts of town. Every time she glances at the grand sign, it depresses her.

Leena peered inconspicuously into the shop. Brackneed had taken his scarf, cape, and top hat off, and hung them on a fine oak coat rack. He was chatting with his two assistants, Barnaby and Veera, about the lovely autumn day, and at the same time, boasting about taunting Xiveer. “They’re just as well off as he is! Sheesh!” Leena thought, cringing at their smug and smiling faces.

A group of customers converged on the door, and made their way in. Leena looked over, and made the decision that she may regret for the rest of her life: to go inside, and mingle. She made sure she was the last person to go in, and to close the door.

The shop was more impressive inside than from the window view from outside. The shelves look like they are dusted on the hour, and at every hour. Cans and jars of sweets and goods are stacked in complex pyramids, with signs of prices and deals all over the place. The warm, cozy atmosphere made her jealous, and she only managed to hide it by pretending to browse a small selection of clothing in the corner.

Brackneed held his arms out wide, and greeted them. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Brackneed’s, the greatest store on Algenon!” The slogan made Leena shudder.

The first customer walked up to the counter. “Hello, Mr. Vendyor!” she said.

“Good day! What can I get you today, Madam?” he asked.

“A packet of digestives, and a small sack of flour, please!” the lady replied. Barnaby went into the warehouse, and returned with the flour, while Veera reached up on a shelf, pulling down a box of biscuits from up high with a grabbing device. The lady forked over the money, and Brackneed put it in the till. “Thank you, Mr. Vendyor!” she said.

“Thank you, my lady! Come again!” Brackneed said with a smile. He waved the next customer over. “And what about you, sir? What can I get you this fine evening?”

“A tin of Roland’s Cherry, and a box of matches, please!” the man said.

“Ah, stocking your pipe supplies up for the long autumn, eh? One moment, please!” Brackneed personally served the customer, returning with a tin of pipe tobacco, and a box of matches with a generic blue and white cross design on the front. “Here you go, twenty dollars and fifty five cents, please.”

The man put the money on the counter, and took the goods. “Thank you, sir!”

“No, no–thank you!” Brackneed said. As the rest of the customers cleared out, he noticed one by the expensive wool toques, wearing a beige coat with a green hat and pink scarf. “How about you, ma’am? Have you found what you’re looking for?”

No response.

Puzzled, Brackneed came from behind the counter, and up to the customer. “I dare say, you seem to be not making your mind up? Is there something I can help you find? If I don’t have it, I can get it for you! A ten dollar deposit, of course…” He poked his head further, and noticed her facial features. “Wait a minute, I know you!” He grabbed the scarf, and twirled it around. Flabbergasted, he stood back. “Leena Severis!”

His two assistants stopped, and looked up, also shouting “Leena Severis!”

Leena waved. “Um, hello.” she said shyly.

“What in god’s name are you doing here?” Brackneed asked her sternly. “What did he put you up to?”

Leena did not want to give the game away. She was so close to admitting to the mouse in the shop, she had to slap herself. Instead, she took the initiative, and played his game. “Well, since you visited my shop, I figured I would visit yours!” she said, folding her arms in. “It’s a nice place you have here. Always a pleasure to visit! So, how’s business?”

Brackneed snorted. “None of your damn business! What do you mean, by always?”

“Oh, don’t you know? I’ve been here in many disguises over the years, seeking out your own customers, gloating with my own staff, seeing what you have, and what we can offer!” She walked over to a display of finely wrapped chocolate bars, and picked one up. “You gloat about your loyalty and customer service in the early afternoon. Telling me off isn’t a nice way to treat your customers, is it?”

“She’s got you there, Mr. Brackneed,” Barnaby said. Brackneed stared into his eyes. He quickly backed off, raising his hands in defeat.

“You’re not a customer, but a delinquent!” Brackneed said.

“If I buy something, that makes me a customer!” Leena said. She took two dollars out of her coat, and slapped it in front of Veera. “Here, have some working class dollars!”

“Um, thanks.” Veera squeaked, putting it in the till.

Leena unwrapped the chocolate bar, and took a big bite. “Oh, this is good! Now that I’m a paying customer, what do you say to me?”

Steaming, Brackneed shook, but as another customer came in, he forced himself to regain his composure. “Well, thank you for your custom, Mrs. Severis! Please do come again!” he said, defeated.

Leena courteously put the wrapper in her pocket, donned her toque and scarf, and went to the door. Before leaving, she turned around, and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Brackneed. I hope you come by my store, and buy from us again!” she said, laughing.

The sole customer bought something and left. Leena stayed by the window to hear Brackneed’s conversation. He seemed to have an argument with Barnaby over ethics, while she laughed.

She stopped laughing when she overheard the line, “What is she going to do? Put a rat in my shop? Don’t be so absurd!”

In her genuine euphoric moment, she panicked. “Shit! He knows about the mouse!” she squeaked, scampering off back to the east end.

~ # ~

Dishevelled and mentally broken, Xiveer continued his one-sided and ruthless campaign against his (seemingly more intelligent) foe. He tried trapping it, slapping it, sweeping it, yelling at it, even going so far as to mock it in a dramatic fashion, but the mouse refused to give in.

Fortunately for Xiveer, the evening has been rather quiet, with only one customer in the past few hours. He had been forced to re-open the shop, after a long lineup of customers fidgeted. Unfortunately, he is on the brink of insanity, and he did not care. He pulled down the blinds, and pasted the sign back up in the window.

After a series of drawings on paper, however, he thinks he has cracked it. The ultimate trap for the ultimate foe!

Xiveer tied a rope to a large sack of flour, and winched it up to the ceiling using rope flung through a hole in one of the rafters. Below, in the “target zone,” he laid some tasty food that was not stinky cheese. The plan: to hide behind the counter, and when the rat comes to take the food, let go of the rope, which will cover the rat in flour, and/or squash it. He will then throw it in a basin of water, ending its life for good. It’s such a crazy and conceivable idea, there could not be any possibility of failure.

Xiveer double-checked the rigging. He hid behind the counter, and held the rope taught. The thoughts he had about the mouse were not generous, chanting over and over, “I’m going to get you, you rat bastard!”

The mutant mouse emerged from the window area, drawn out by the smell of the treat. The mouse sniffed the food, and ate merrily. Xiveer smiled. “Hah! Got you!” he said aloud, letting go of the rope. However, the sack did not move. The mouse finished the food, and ran off. Curious, he stood up. Huh? What’s wrong? Why isn’t it moving?

He leapt over the counter to investigate. With the rope in hand, he tugged at it, and let it go. Nothing happened. This isn’t right. He looked up at the rafters. It seems the rope has gotten stuck inside one of the wood knot holes, and refused to let go.

Stumped, he stepped back against a display of bread. He reached behind himself, thinking he grabbed a small loaf off the counter. He put it up to his mouth, and only when the mouse’s face met his, did he squeal in terror.

“Holy crap!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, tossing the mouse up into the air. It landed on top of the flour sack, conveniently landing with enough force to move the rope. As an unknowing Xiveer went underneath the sack, it landed on his head. His horns tore through the burlap, covering him from head to toe with flour. Completely blind, he waddled around the shop, pushing things off counters, until he stepped on a shovel, which thwacked him in the forehead.

“Ooh, ooh….I-I got a wicked headache.” he slurred. He collapsed onto the floor, where his head fell into the small basin, passing out with his flour-covered head in the water.

~ # ~

By the time all was said and done, it was almost eight thirty in the evening, closing time for Severis General Goods. Barlett’s townsfolk made their way through the streets, either to go home, to go for a walk, or to go to the pub for a drink.

Pumped up from taunting Brackneed, Leena raced back to the other end of town to tell Xiveer the news that Brackneed may know about the mouse. After debating the problem in her head, however, she realized she may have actually panicked, and instead made a sly remark with no foundation of accusation.

Panting, she made it back to Ash Street, and was minutes away from the store. As a horse went past, she saw Milakkalos Daruginna, or just Mila, sweeping the porch of her pub. A half-dragon like Xiveer and Larry, she has pale blue skin, and long, crinkly black hair. She comes from Fundie Spires, an area east in the maritime area of Caldore. It is said that the ancient dragons were born from the waters, and their descendants developed water-influenced magic abilities. Just like her ancestors, Mila can spawn, albeit poorly, water magic from her hands. However, she finds it ruins the taste of her patron’s drinks.

“Oh, shit!” Leena said to herself. Mila has a habit of finding out the truth from even the most secretive of people, and Leena did not want to be detected. When Leena wasn’t looking, she snuck behind some barrels and crates, trying to look inconspicuous.

Just like her mystery shopping failure, Mila spotted her immediately. “Oi, Leena Severis! What the hell are you doing?” she called out.

Leena cursed under her breath. She glanced back at Mila, looking at her dirtied white apron, and said, “Just getting back! That’s all!”

Mila rested the broom against the wooden post, and put her hands on her hips. “Alright, what has that idiot husband of yours made you do this time?”

Leena paced backwards. “We have a seriously large mouse in the shop, and then Brackneed came to boast about himself. I followed him back to his own place, and gave him a piece of my mind, but he may know about the mouse!” she confessed. In fact, she was so surprised how easy the words came from her mouth, she gasped.

Mila laughed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Leena! Why are you being so secretive about it? It’s just a rodent. It happens!”

“Yeah, but you haven’t seen it!! It’s as big as my head! Xiveer’s trying to deal with it.”

“Oh, give over!” Mila said dubiously. “A mouse the size of your head? Hang on…you let Xiveer deal with it?”

Suddenly, a door off in the distance kicked open. The normally docile and elderly Mrs. Wentworth came running for her life down the road, screaming, “Monster! Monster! Someone help, please!” It appears that, in his moments of genius, Xiveer forgot to lock the door when he closed a second time.

Leena’s face turned white. “Oh…my….god! What has my idiot husband done this time?” She ran off towards the shop, with Mila following behind.

At the same time, Reena returned from her long social call with Mrs. Aptow. Sleepy, she stabled the horse, and then heard the muffled screams inside. What is going on in there? Is he okay? Are we being… Assuming the worst, she found a shovel in the small lumber shed, unlocked the back door, kicked it open, and ran inside.

What she found was, from her view, remarkable. There was flour everywhere. By the front door, an angry Leena and a smug Mila stood side-by-side, their arms folded, looking generally disappointed. Reena stopped short of the counter. “Mrs. Severis? Miss Daruginna! What is going on here?” she asked.

Cross, Leena twirled her hand at Xiveer. He did not understand the gesture, so Mila barked it out the order to turn around.

His entire head was covered in a viscous, dough-like plaster. Somehow, he woke up with his head in the basin, mixed the flour and water up into a dough-like thickness, and in the ensuing panic, knocked himself out again. He did look like an ugly creature that came fresh out of the swamp, a genuine reason to give poor Mrs. Wentworth the fright of her life.

Reena dropped the shovel, and burst into a fit of hysterics.

“I can’t leave you alone for more than a few minutes to take care of a simple problem, can I?” Leena said. “Look at this place! What the hell have you done here? Well? Explain yourself!”

All Xiveer could manage is a few disconnected words. The dough sealed most of his mouth, and was unable to talk. He could only moan incoherent sounds.

Mila went over to Reena, and picked up the shovel. With her “keen” ability, she lured the mouse out, and smacked it with the shovel. A job well done, and with no mess! She picked the seemingly lifeless rodent up in the palm of her large hands. “Good god, you weren’t joking. This thing is huge! Where did it come from?”

“Mrs. Aptow’s potato farm, I reckon.” Leena said.

Reena felt disgusted. “You mean, it hitched a ride back with me the first time, and I brought it all the way here?” she said, shuddering. “That’s gross!”

Mila looked into the face of the mouse. It’s little nose twitched, as did its ears and eyes. A little groggy, the mouse came back to life. “What would you like to with it, Mrs. Severis?” she asked. Leena smiled mischievously, and Mila understood. “Well, I have to go to the west end docks anyway. I’ll bring it with me after I’m done here.”

“You are always someone I can count on, Mila, unlike my husband!” Leena barked. She walked up to the helpless Xiveer, who simply looked on in shame. “I am going home. You will not leave this shop until this is all cleaned up! Do you understand me?”

“Mmmf-mmmf.” Xiveer moaned.

“Hey, Mrs. Severis,” Reena said. “I can help stay behind, if you wish.”

Leena shook her head. “No, I want him to learn his lesson. You’re taking the initiative now, suddenly? What did you and Mrs. Aptow talk about?”

“A great many things,” Reena said. “Don’t be so hard on him. He was right, after all,” She took the keys from Leena’s hand. “How about I open up for you tomorrow? I’ve watched you two do it for a few years now. I think I can handle it.”

Xiveer nervously smiled. The dough around his mouth made his face look like a disgruntled clown. Leena mulled over her request. This morning, Reena was down and low. Now, she’s looking forward to everything. A complete transformation in just a few hours. The thought played unhelpfully in her mind, but Reena has never let them down.

With her husband unable to speak, she decided for him. “Alright, Reena. You’ve pretty much earned it as it is. Go on home, I’ll see you tomorrow. You know how to open the safe, and do what needs to be done?”

Reena nodded. “I certainly do. Thank you, Mrs. Severis! Goodnight, everyone.” They all waved as she left the shop for the night.

Mila put the mouse in a large paper bag, and went to the door. “Well, that was entertaining. I will dispose of this creature in the most pleasing way possible. Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Severis.”

“Goodnight, Mila,” Leena said, while Xiveer simply moaned. She locked the door, and proceeded to soak a towel with water from the basin. “Well?” she asked as she cleaned her husband’s face.

Xiveer painfully stretched and strained his mouth. “Thank you, dear,” he said, slapping his cheeks. “Um, well, yeah. I think I made a bit of a hash of things, didn’t I?”

Leena threw her hands around Xiveer. “Well, muffin man, I suppose I can give you some points for trying, after all. And what you did with Reena…she never offered to take up duties like that before. What did you say to her?”

“Well, I knew about Mrs. Aptow from her husband, and I thought they would get talking. You see it every day, the young Reena MacTavish bringing herself down. Besides, I don’t know what made her so reluctant to talk to the woman, but I’m glad she sorted herself out. I have wise words, you know?”

Leena rubbed off the dough from his lips, and gave him a long kiss. The loose flour stuck to her face and beige coat. “I’m still angry with you about this, but I still love you. By the way, I did something I never thought I would have done myself.”

Xiveer took the wet towel. “What’s that?” he asked, removing the rest of the dough from his head.

“I followed Brackneed back to his own shop, and gave him a piece of my mind,” Leena said, jumping excitedly. “I thought he knew about the mouse, but really, I don’t think he does. The crisis has been averted!”

“That’s fantastic news!” Xiveer said. He wrung out the towel, dabbing it on Leena’s face to remove the excess flour.

“There’s more news. I saw Tarla Wilfellow get off by Stockwood’s Bakery. She looked in terrible strife, poor girl.”

“Oh?” Xiveer replied. “She finally reappears after a week, eh? Are you going to tell Larry? I’m sure he would be pleased.”

Leena went to the door. “No, I don’t think so. He’s doing very well on his own, but I want to see how he copes. Maybe they will have something to share. Besides, she looks like she’s been through hell and back. I feel embarrassed that Larry is eighteen, and he hasn’t experienced the ways of the world. I think this will do him a world of good.”

“Well, make sure you’re prepared for the consequences,” Xiveer warned her. “Remember last year, how much you terrorized Michale with that giant walking cucumber? He had nightmares for a week! Where are you going, anyway?”

“I told you I’m going home, while you stay here to clean up!” Leena said.

Xiveer slumped. “Okay, okay. I’ll be home in a few hours. By the way, I didn’t hear what you two were up to. What is Mila going to do with that mouse?”

Smug, Leena rolled her eyes. “Do I really have to tell you?”

~ # ~

With Barnaby and Veera gone home for the night, Brackneed stayed well past closing to count the money, and balance the books. It is a routine that he has performed for almost a decade, a ritual done every night since his late wife, Vasira, passed away from an illness. Since then, he has taken to many of her ways as part of keeping her happy, and to show dedication to her in the place she was happiest in: with her then-husband running their own shop on the high street.

After balancing the accounts, Brackneed continued on his routine: take a tour of the shop floor, and compile a to-do list of morning tasks before the first customer arrives. This list is mainly for himself, as he always opens and runs the store in the morning, until one of his assistants arrives to take over.

One particular corner cabinet behind the counter contains several jars of candies and other sweets. Usually the last item on his nightly walk, he wipes down all the jars and shelves, dusting them off to make them look shiny and new.

Tonight, he started with the top shelf, and worked his way down, humming one of many random songs. He bent down, cleaned the last shelf, and stood up…coming face to face with a massive mouse on the top shelf.

His nose touched the mouse’s. “Holy hell!” he screamed, falling back against the counter. It gave him such a shock, he thought he was going to have a heart attack. Brackneed shivered, pointing at the rodent, who stood up to sniff the air. “M-m-m-mouse! Don’t hurt me!” he pled.

Outside, Mila casually walked towards the west end docks, taking the back streets for a shortcut. Brackneed’s high pitch scream entered through her sensitive, pointy ears, and she chuckled. Those chuckles turned into a series of giggles, which transformed into a fit of full laughter, much to the confusion and amusement of the sailors she passed on the wharf.

~ End ~