Something Stinks at the Spa, page 10
But as I dove for her, something snagged my foot. I figured it was just Yuri being too cautious, but then I realized Yuri wasn’t behind me—he was over by the coffee urn. And before I could make sense of what was happening, I found myself covered in yards of sulfur-smelling fabric as an entire bank of curtains engulfed me.
I poked my head free. The room was blindingly bright now, and it took me a good few seconds of blinking to make sense of what was going on.
One end of the drapery rod I’d dislodged had launched a pitcher of cranberry juice at Quint, and his trendy linen outfit was now tie-dyed pink. Kind of festive with his blue hair, but I doubted it was the look he was actually going for. Meanwhile, Mr. Woodrow had pulled out a notepad and was scribbling furiously. “Shoddy workmanship,” he declared. “That could have hurt someone.”
In the eye of the storm, Liza squinted against the dazzling sunlight, staring out into the courtyard. She swayed on her feet, mesmerized, while Quint carried on about his wardrobe malfunction and Mr. Woodrow pontificated on some obscure drapery requirements. Was it the Spellcraft holding her in place for one of the two undesirable men to come and get her? If so, there was no way I could let her keep that Crafting. No matter how well-intended it might have been.
But as my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I realized it wasn’t Spellcraft holding her riveted to the spot. It was the sight of one very filthy, bluish dog.
Out on the patio, Twinkle stood with his head cocked, looking on as the humans inside emerged from the fallen drapery.
Liza cocked her head at the same angle as the dog’s. “I heard you guys stomping around outside last night. Was this who you were looking for?”
“In the flesh,” I said. “Or fur.” Or...whatever was stuck to that fur.
A pair of glass doors bisected the wall of windows. Liza took one step toward them. Then another. And I was positive that any minute, Twinkle would perform his disappearing act.
Except, he didn’t.
Even as Liza swung open the doors, and cried, “Ooooh, lookit the boo-boo puppy snoo-choo!” the dog stood stock still.
“He’s kinda skittish,” I cautioned.
Which Liza ignored. “Oo da good boo-boo?” She dropped to her knees and threw her arms wide. “Oo da boo-boo?”
His tail perked up...and gave a tentative wag.
“Come eer lil’ snoochie-poo,” Liza hollered.
And still, the dog didn’t bail.
“What was his name again? You were calling it out half the night. Oh wait, I remember! It’s Tinkle.”
“Actually,” I said. “It’s....”
“C’mere, Tinkle! C’mere, boy!”
“Eh, never mind.”
The wagging grew more confident, and so did the scrappy little dog. He crept a few inches toward Liza, then Liza shuffled forward on her knees, crooning adorable nonsense...and beyond all odds, the two came together in a whirlwind of babbling and tail-wagging and pink-tongue doggy kisses.
But the mood inside the dining room was nowhere near as prosaic.
“This is unacceptable!” Quint declared, dripping with pink. But before he could start spewing any businessman threats, a single bumblebee meandered in through the open door, and made a bee-line right for him. (Like, seriously, I had no idea that was an actual thing.)
I’d never seen anyone backpedal as fast as Quint. “I’m allergic to bees! Why is it coming straight for me?”
The bumblebee wasn’t exactly a heat-seeking missile—more of a disoriented wiffleball—so it was unlikely Quint would get stung unless he insisted on standing around swatting himself. “It’s the juice,” I told him. “You’ll want to go up to your room and change.”
Well...that was one way to get rid of an annoying businessman.
Yuri hauled aside a curtain so I could step out, and while he did, he leaned in and said, “I will go speak to the critic.”
I snagged him by the lapel and pulled him in to brush a kiss across his lips. “But aren’t you going to revel in what we did for Liza?” I nodded toward the yard, where she and Tinkle were lolling together joyously on the lawn. The jilted bride had blades of grass and clover stuck in her messy, blue streaked hair—they were already starting to look alike. “You’ve got to admit...it was one heck of a Crafting.”
Yuri did his best to look entirely unmoved. “The Crafting was fine.” Yeah. He was into it. “But Woodrow had better not write up these curtains. His review must be glowing—all those ridiculous treatments I’ve done can’t be for nothing.”
I smoothed down his jacket and gave his massive pecs an appreciative pat. “Take Mr. Woodrow aside and tell him about some obscure Russian custom where it’s good luck to pull down the drapes.” Yuri looked dubious, and I added, “He loves your crazy made-up customs. And who’d ever be mopey about an extra bit of luck?”
Yuri ran the backs of his paint-stained fingers down my cheek. “Who, indeed?”
While Yuri headed off to fill Mr. Woodrow’s head with invented traditions, Janet passed him in the hallway carrying a covered tray. I edged away from the curtains so I didn’t need to take all the blame for pulling them down.
“What happened in here?” Janet sounded dazed.
“Funniest thing....” I began, scrambling to come up with some positive spin on the situation. But of everyone we’d met in Spring Falls, Janet was our toughest customer—the sort of no-nonsense person who’d be really hard to bamboozle.
Weirdly enough, though, she wasn’t angry. She trudged across the old curtains and looked out through the glass as if she was seeing her resort for the very first time. “I didn’t realize how much light those curtains were blocking. Look at this place—it feels twice as big. And that’s a real nice view of the grotto.” Sunlight played over her features as she gazed down at the healthy trickle, which now ran into the pool sparkling clear, and only smelled slightly of sulfur.
She turned to me. “The offer still stands, y’know. You’re welcome to stay.”
“We appreciate it,” I said warmly. “But Yuri and I....” Huh. There was nothing we urgently needed to do, now that Uncle Fonzo’s trail had gone cold.
I took the tray from Janet’s unresisting hands, set it down and cracked the lid, hoping for bacon...and found, instead, little cups of whipped topping and pineapple sprinkled with crushed cookies—just like Mom used to make. It was the sight of those awesome desserts that made me come to a realization. While my family was accustomed to me coming and going, maybe I wasn’t. Not anymore. Truth be told, I was even a little bit homesick. No doubt it wasn’t the same there without Uncle Fonzo. But until there was something more to go on, there was no sense in just wandering around aimlessly, hoping to cross his path.
Yuri and I had a life waiting for us back in Pinyin Bay. A pretty darn good life. And now I was ready to go home.
I scooped up a parfait for myself and another for Yuri. I was considering whether or not to try balancing a third cup in the crook of my elbow—just in case Yuri didn’t let me eat his—when my phone rang.
Since I didn’t recognize the number, I let it go to voicemail. But when I got up to our room, it started ringing again. I tapped the door with my foot. Yuri opened it and took the parfaits without a word. The ringing stopped...but before I could get the lowdown on what new and exotic Russian curtain-pulling tradition he’d managed to cook up, the phone rang yet again.
I’m as glad as the next guy to brighten a telemarketer’s day, but sometimes they’ve just gotta learn to take no for an answer. I grabbed the call and said, “Sorry to disappoint you, but whatever it is you’re selling, I’m not your guy.”
Through the ambient noise of a raucous crowd, I had the distinct impression of hearing someone smile.
And then a familiar voice rang out.
“Dixon Penn....” My heart skipped a beat, then started pounding. Hard. “Is that any way to greet your favorite uncle?”
Will Dixon and Yuri finally catch up with Uncle Fonzo? Find out in The ABCs of Spellcraft 4: Dead Man’s Quill (coming soon)
Don’t miss Yuri meeting Dixon’s parents for the first time in the bonus story All that Glitters.
Sign up for Jordan Castillo Price’s newsletter at http://bit.ly/jcpglitters and download free.
The ABCs of Spellcraft Series
1. Quill Me Now
1.5 All that Glitters
2. Trouble in Taco Town
3. Something Stinks at the Spa
4. Dead Man’s Quill
About this Story
MY BEST FRIEND IN HIGH school had a scruffy, black poodle-mix named Shaggy. He had an underbite and looked like a weird little gremlin. He was a really smart dog. If he was getting annoying, you could say, “Shaggy, go to your bed,” and he’d dutifully head off to his little nest of blankets. One of the neighbors had a yippy little dog named Twinkle. Whenever Shaggy encountered Twinkle, he’d lift up his leg and pee on the poor thing. So of course we called it Tinkle.
Yes, I’ve been waiting literally decades for the right time to do something fun with this memory.
Yuri’s massage room was influenced by an accountant I knew. Her office looked perfectly normal outside, but inside, she kept a massive case full of dolls. I’m not particularly creeped out by dolls—not like Yuri is—but there was definitely something “off,” and come tax time the following year, I found a different accountant.
As I was writing this installment of The ABCs of Spellcraft, every drain in my house let out an alarming gurgle. Some utility guys were performing maintenance on the fire hydrant outside. When I opened my toilet lid, water spewed up, followed by the sulfurous smell of sewer gas.
Coincidence? I think not.
Bonus trivia: the noise we make when we sneeze is a cultural habit and entirely unnecessary. Huh. https://www.lostateminor.com/2014/02/06/learn-sneeze-10-languages/
About the Author
JORDAN CASTILLO PRICE has finally gotten around to shredding several months’ worth of credit card offers. She doesn’t think she felt any hot-pressed art paper in the mix, though with all the weird stuff they stick in those mailings, one never can tell.
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And explore her other stories at http://jcpbooks.com
Jordan Castillo Price, Something Stinks at the Spa
