Page 50 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

Talula laughed and continued speeding along to the farmers’ market entrance.

The plan was this: They were just going to get groceries like Talula normally did. She would remind vendors that Samhain was run by Talula, who said “please” and “thank you” and asked about their children’s ballet recitals and the progress of the rutabaga crop. If Talula could smile through her fear of townwide rejection, she could take the first step in changing their minds about Samhain in a meaningful way. Maybe they could avoid Sara having to magically alter anyone’s brain.

“Right.” Simon spoke in hushed tones as Talula swung off her bike. “Back straight, chin up. Let your aura emanate confidence. Smile, but not like an insipid mongoose—”

“Simon,” Talula whispered patiently, “I got this.”

“Very well,” Simon said, still in the crate at the back of the bike. “I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you. Do you want help getting out?”

“No.” Simon sat his rump down emphatically in the crate.

Alright then.

Talula strode forward, wheeling the bike (and Simon) into the market.

Their first hurdle was at the entrance. Two young women about Talula’s age held clipboards, giving “Come talk to me” eyes to every passerby.

“Do you have a moment to talk about Samhain?”

“Say no to Samhain! Keep our community free from devil worship!”

Simon muttered darkly, “When you’ve magically advanced enough, I’ll teach you how to turn them into earwigs.”

Talula walked over, keeping a friendly, nonthreatening expression on her face as she came within the petitioners’ orbits. The women glanced at her for a moment.

Then they spotted Simon.

“What a cutie!” cried the one on the left, her perky ponytail bouncing.

“Can we pet him?” asked the one on the right, her blue-eyed gaze locked on Simon’s dour expression.

“Um.” Talula glanced at Simon. He gave a great, self-sacrificing hrmph and a tiny nod. She smiled apologetically. “Sure!”

“What a sweet little guy,” said Ponytail, reaching for his ears.

“I love corgis.” Blue Eyes gave Simon a good scritch under the scruff of his neck. To Talula’s surprise, Simon’s stern gaze began to soften.

“Hrmmmph…”

He likes it! I knew he would!

Talula took a closer look at Ponytail. “Josie, right? I think we worked the canned-food drive junior year.”

Ponytail, now Josie, brightened mid-scratch. “Oh yeah! You handled the inventory.”

Tension eased out of Talula’s body. “You were so good at sorting. Remember when you figured out the Bryant brothers had donated expired cans as a prank?”

“And you called their mom!” Josie shook her head, laughing. “What was it you said? ‘Did the numbers confuse them?’ It was perfect. I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”

“Talula.”

Josie’s face fell. She asked, almost pleadingly, “Not…that Talula?”

“I’m afraid so.” Talula’s heart twinged, but she kept smiling.

“I, we…uh…” Josie looked at the clipboard in her hand, then back at Talula, like she was desperately trying to remember her lines.