Page 29 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“So it is.” Kiki’s eyes were brighter than usual, shining with almost-tears. They blew Talula a kiss; then, with a bracing breath, they stepped into the shining portal. They vanished.

Talula wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. She wasn’t always around when a magical being transitioned into their next life. But when she was, it always moved her.

“Yes, well,” Simon said, as blue filaments of magic fluttered around the Volta’s archway. “That wasn’t totally botched.”

“Thanks.” Talula let out a sniffly laugh. “Let’s go home.”

When they’d begun the walk to the house, Talula had a thought. “What’s your name?”

“What?” Simon said.

“I called you Simon before I knew you could talk. Is there anything you’d prefer to be called?”

“No,” Simon said hurriedly. “My name is unpronounceable.”

“Let me try. It’s the least I can do.”

“You don’t have the right mystic vocal organs.”

“And you do?”

In answer, Simon let loose an ear-splitting shriek that somehow made Talula’s inner ear feel like it was bleeding while also being tickled. When it was over, all the night animals had gone completely silent.

Talula shook her head. “You’re right. I don’t have those organs.”

“You certainly don’t.”

“Would you like to pick a name to go by? One that I have the right organs for?”

Simon was silent. He continued taking quick, small steps alongside Talula’s strides. After half a block, a cricket felt brave enough to resume his night music.

“I like Simon,” Simon said.

Another cricket joined the first. Then another.

“Me, too,” Talula said.

After a welcome feast of pork chops in pancetta and herb sauce, Talula showed Simon to the guest bedroom.

“Tomorrow the real education begins,” he declared. He hopped onto the bed, turned around three times, and settled into a fluffy ball of exhaustion. “Organic matter can be so tiring.”

As Talula got ready for bed, she reran the events of the day through her head. Would Simon bring up Dahlia’s presence in the café? Would he decide to wipe her memory? But her mother said a local coming in once in a while was good, right? Could Talula play it off that way? As she brushed her teeth and picked through her worries, Talula’s phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. An unknown number had sent her a text.

After today, I have quit cold quesadillas cold turkey

Thanks again for everything

I’m going to dream of cheese tubs tonight

Btw this is Dahlia. Not a stalker.

Talula gave a delighted gasp (and nearly choked on her toothbrush). She drafted text after text before deciding that simplicity was the best option.

Sweet dreams and good riddance to cold quesadillas!

Talula got into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, a grin stretching her cheeks taut. She didn’t sleep for hours.

8