Except for the awkward neon sign.
The sign reads “The Cosmic Café” with a ring like Saturn’s around the “O” of Cosmic, which is fun. But also, neon is so ’80’s.
Looking at the businesses to the left and right, I know that sign is going to have to go. They all have cute, artsy wooden signs that hang on chains over the eave above the door. I don’t want to go too against the grain out here, but also, a neon sign for coffee doesn’t have the right vibe at all.
Honestly, I like it. I mean, it’s not a permanent dwelling, but as far as hideouts from mob bosses go, this one is pretty sweet. At least from the outside.
There’s not a lot of street parking, but I find a spot in front of the building that’ll probably get me a ticket if I leave it there too long. There’s a chill in the air that feels unnatural for this time of year. But maybe it’s just Maine.
There’s a real estate guy in town who was going to meet us with the keys, but he texted when we were halfway here that he had something to do. So instead, the keys are in a lockbox on the handle.
I help Nai Nai out of the back of my rusted SUV and walk with her toward the building. There are manicured sections of flowers along the walkway that contrast against the tarnishedbuilding. We’ll get the outside looking good enough for this street soon enough.
The closer we get to the front door, the warmer the air becomes. I’m baffled by how their buildings retain so much heat into the night, but whatever, maybe it’s different building materials than in Boston.
I open my phone and get the passcode from the real estate guy’s text. Inside the box is the set of two keys, and I jingle them merrily at Ace to quiet his random bellyaching.
I turn for the door and grab the knob to hold it steady for the key. The metal strikes me with energy like a branding iron. I yank my hand back on instinct and my senses go on alert. I push my consciousness beyond the door but find it empty inside…no living presences.
I touch the handle again and the same energy meets me, but instead of a hot jolt, it’s a warm, steady flow. I’m not familiar withbuildingsthat have a magical presence, but this one seems to have one.
The key slides in easily, and I turn it until the bolt clicks. I open the doors to our temporary new digs and it is…
Dark.
Dusty.
Disheveled.
Yikes.
“Has anyone been here in twenty years?” Ace asks.
A valid question. Given how old the furniture looks, and the thickness of the dust layer, I doubt it. There are several tablesof different sizes and shapes, and a few chairs that look like they match, but then a bunch that don’t. Eclectic.
“Doesn’t look like it. That would explain the funky name,” I say.
“Funky smell, too,” he says.
“I don’t smell anything,” Nai Nai says as she shuffles in, her cane tapping on the boards.
I flick the light switch beside the door and nothing happens, as expected. I forgot to transfer the electric bill to my name in time to have the service guy come out and check everything. They’re worried it’s not up to code, and I’m now worried that a lot of things aren’t.
“Candles it is,” Ace says as he whips out his lighter.
He flicks it to life and something in the room moves. Not something I can see with my eyes, but something I feel with my astral body. It was behind the bar, and it went into the back room.
Nai Nai knows about my powers, but sometimes she overreacts, so I try to keep shit to myself until I’m certain I know what’s what. I’ll have to check it later because now I need to get Nai Nai comfortable.
And that stupid rubber plant…
“Ace, the rooms are upstairs.”
I toss him the keys and he nods, then takes Nai Nai by the arm to lead her up. I run out to the tiny 4x8 trailer hitched to the back of my car and open it up to a catastrophe of falling items. I do my best, throwing out arms and legs to catch things as theycareen toward the pavement, but, in the end, most of it falls. I let it all go and just accept that this is what’s happening.
I find the bedrolls, pillows, rice, rice cooker, and Ace’s heavy-duty power bank to run it, and a half-full box of tealight candles, then wrap them all in a massive wad. One end plops open and the rice falls out, then a pillow. I yelp and yank the pillow off the concrete—five second rule—but then the rice cooker starts to fall.
I abandon the wad and catch the rice cooker with a huff.
