Mango, my normally chill, lazy lump of a cat who usually behaves as if he is the king of the castle, suddenly decides he’s my stalwart guardian and the dog is his mortal enemy. Most days, Mango’s only concerns are his naps in the sun and occasional treats. But as the float comes abreast of us, Mango’s fur puffs out, and his back arches. I can feel his claws unsheathe and prick my forearm. Before I can react, he erupts into a horrible caterwaul that echoes around the square.
Abandoning all survival instincts, a feral war cry erupts from Mango’s mouth, the likes of which I’ve never heard from my pet. Before I can react, the giant white dog lunges across the float in response, knocking into Koko with a force that sends her reeling sideways.
His large paws scrabble across the small floor space of the float as he barks at Mango, crushing some of the bunches of wheat.
I watch in horror as the hanging spindle swings wildly out of Koko’s grasp. It spins through the air, twirling and twisting, end over end. The world seems to slow down, and I feel my heart thump heavily against my chest, pounding out a rhythm of impending doom as it flies through the air.
Before I can shout a warning, the spindle arcs in an unsteady trajectory toward my parked car. I let out a choked gasp as the sharpened end lands with a sickening crunch, embedding itselfdeeply into the back windshield of my vehicle. The impact sends a spiderweb of cracks splaying out from where it’s lodged. My mouth gapes as the entire town freezes alongside me, staring at the spindle sticking out of my back window like a sword embedded in stone.
“Oh, no! Sema, look what you made me do!” Koko exclaims, rushing off the float and toward my car. That breaks me from my frozen trance, and I dash across the street to my car, ignoring the staring townsfolk.
“Is this your vehicle, dear?” Koko asks.
I nod my head, unable to form words. “I was about to get back on the road,” I inanely babble.
“Oh, well, I mean… You can’t drive it like this. It’s too dangerous.”
She’s not wrong. My shoulders drop when I realize I’m not going anywhere, and now I have to call my insurance company. This is gonna suck. And my rates are probably going to go up.
“Can someone find Rog for me?” Koko calls out to the lingering crowd. The way she says the name Rog, it rhymes with cog.
An enormous, lumbering man in blue overalls and a great bushy beard steps out of the crowd. He strolls towards us, a grease-stained rag hanging from his pocket. He wears a blue and white trucker hat with ‘Svarog’s Garage’ scribbled on it.
“Everything okay here, Mayor?” the man I assume is Rog asks, his mouth stretching into an easy grin as he wipes the sweat off his forehead. Now that the excitement seems to be over, most of the crowd starts to head away, mostly back into the park.
I blink, casting a glance at Koko, “Mayor?”
Koko waves her hand dismissively. “I’m merely a humble servant of this town.”
Humble my ass, I think to myself. I get the sense that Koko is many things, but humble isn’t one of them.
“Rog, do you think you can fix… uh… what was your name again?” Koko looks at me expectantly, so I provide my name. “Do you think you can fix Ms. Blackwell’s car?” Koko asks, her gaze softening as she surveys the damaged vehicle.
“I prefer Lily,” I respond absently.
Rog stretches his back, hands stained with oil and face ingrained with the lines of years at the workshop. He runs his fingers through his thick beard, tugging on the ends, and gives the broken car window a dubious stare. “Well, Koko,” he sighs, sucking his teeth in thought before finally shaking his head, “I’ll need to order a new window for this one, and delivery could take a couple of days.”
My jaw drops in dismay. “A couple of days?” I exclaim, clutching Mango to my chest. “What am I supposed to do till then? Is there a car rental place around town?” I ask, looking around the town dubiously, betraying my growing concern.
Koko looks back at me sympathetically, twirling a golden curl around her finger. “I’m afraid not, dear. It’s not something we usually need here. Could you maybe stay in town until the window arrives? I’ll obviously cover your stay and the repairs for your car. It’s all my fault, after all. Well… mine and Semargl’s, but he’s very sorry. Aren’t you, Sema?”
The dog sitting at Koko’s side lets out a single deep bark of apparent agreement. Sema is watching the exchange with sharp eyes and ignoring Mango in my arms. I don’t know much about dog breeds, but I think the dog is some kind of all-white husky or maybe a Samoyed. Whatever he is, he’s enormous. He must’ve lost the fake wings in the chaos, but his fur still sparkles with gold dust in the late afternoon light. I look down at my cat, worried he will panic again, but he gives the dog one lazy look before closing his eyes and snuggling under my chin.
There’s a moment of silence while I mull over my options. It’s not like I have much choice, and this town, strange as it is, doesn’t appear threatening.
“Fine. I can stay for a few days,” I relent, my voice just above a whisper. “I’ll stay… at least until the car gets fixed. Um, do you guys have a hotel here?”
Koko shakes her head at me, “We’ve got a couple of places you can stay. Why don’t you pack a quick bag with enough stuff to hold you over for a few days and come into my shop? Rog will get your car to his garage, and we can get you all set up in the meantime.”
I gape open-mouthed at her, “B-but I don’t—” She cuts me off with a wave.
“Nonsense,” she says, her gaze locked on mine. There’s a steeliness there, hidden beneath the soft exterior. A stubbornness mirroring my own, “Consider it a welcoming gift.”
CHAPTER 8
Lily
Iunlock my car and gather my belongings. I grab my travel bag – carefully packed and repacked for this journey – from the passenger seat. Behind it, nestled in the backseat, is Mango’s crate.
