A jaunty bell jingled as I stepped into the shop. The warmth of the place and the soft gold light folded me away from the storm outside. I leaned back against the door, suddenly safe in this little colorful nest inside the roaring storm. Even the clawing of rain on the windows sounded cozy. Like someone should be pouring chocolate and wearing thick socks.
Music played a deep jazzy bass, the tune soft and swanky. Nina Simone was singing about a new dawn and new day. Feeling good.
Death liked blues.
“Than?” I called out, not seeing him in the open space. Well, open was relative. The walls and ceiling were crowded tip-to-tail with kites of every color and whimsy.
Deltas, diamonds, cellular, rokkakus, stunt kites in every color and style. Lofted against the ceiling was a fantasyland of creatures and things: giant squid, koi, a tractor, frogs, a line of cutesy dragons.
Just when I made out one animal (a sheep) another leered behind it (a wolf). The placement was clever but startling, always a predator just around the corner, always some kind of death or danger with each combination.
The longer I looked, the creepier it felt to have all those eyes and teeth shining down on me.
The horror was subtle, but shocking. As if the entire sky above me was alive with chase and capture and flight, with wing and claw and joy…
…that got eaten.
I had no idea how he had repeat customers. Because it sure wasn’t that huge sign out front that looked like a clown had carved it with a dull meat clever that brought ‘em in.
“Would you care for tea, Reed Daughter?”
I looked down from a spider kite perched so near a shy little ladybug kite that I wanted to smack it with a broom.
Than stood in the now-open door that led to the back room. He had on a chunky cream-colored sweater and a pair of jeans tucked into bright yellow rubber boots with little blue turtles on them.
I’d never seen him in jeans. He was more of a slacks and cheesy, touristy T-shirt kind of guy. The kind of guy who only looked comfortable in a tuxedo, or three-piece suit, and therefore hadn’t quite gotten the hang of casual wear.
But here he was looking… well, the rubber boots were ridiculous… but other than that, he looked passably human.
It was shocking. I wasn’t sure what I should even say. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. Was this how death got the blues?
“Delaney?” he asked into my silence, his expression entirely blank.
Well, not entirely. No matter how dour and indifferent he tried to be, there was something alive in his eyes. An intelligence, a keen curiosity.
Life. There was a life in his eyes that was ancient and paradoxical, considering what power he had carried for æons.
“Tea,” I said, picking up the conversation where I’d dropped it. “Yes. Thank you.”
His eyebrows rose, and those sharp eyes sparked with interest. “Come this way.”
Said the spider to the fly.
I followed him behind the counter and through the door into an office and storage space. There was a door to one side with aBathroomsign, and a back door for deliveries. A very small sink was tucked into one corner. A roll-top secretary’s desk stood in the other corner, opposite the sink. On the desk was a tiny, stuffed Grim Reaper, big emerald eyes and stitched smile fixed forward, hands clasped around a wee scythe.
“Aw,” I said, heading for the stuffy. “It’s a little you.”
He settled on one of the tall stools near a shelf full of stacked boxes.
“Did you buy this?” I picked it up, mesmerized by the huge eyes.
“No.” He sipped tea, and I gave the toy a squish before setting it back in its place.
“Let me guess. Jean?”
“She said it was a housewarming gift.”
I pursed my lips but couldn’t hold back the grin. “This, I notice, is not your house.”
