Weaver

The Mystic's Gallery

                “Coming up,” the woman reached above her and grabbed some of the floating magic overhead. Alice and Maya looked on in astonishment as she reached out and lassoed the muffins one at time, so that they appeared to be floating into the paper bag of their own accord. The woman smiled at their surprise, “Here at Hey Presto we do everything by magic. It’s part of the charm.”

                Alice stood on her tiptoes to watch and noticed another woman just beyond the front counter who was slicing bread in another section. She hadn’t been kidding. The other woman was slicing the bread with magic, using a dark blue thread to cut the loaf into wide, even pieces.

                “Anything else, dear?”

                Alice glanced back down at the case, “Er, yes. A blueberry scone please.” she stepped back so Maya could place her order. A blueberry scone began to float towards the open bag as Maya asked the woman for an apple strudel. Finally the bag was all packed and ready to go, and Alice paid the woman and took the change she was handed, “Thank you.”

                “You’re most welcome, dear.” The woman gave her another motherly smile, “have a nice day, come again!”

                The exited the shop. And Alice remarked, “I think we should come again. Man, it smells good in there!”

                “I can’t wait to eat that apple strudel,” Maya was eyeing the bag in Alice’s hand, “I guess we should wait until after the gallery. I don’t know if they’ll let you eat in there.”

                “Probably not,” Alice stopped in front of the art gallery, “The Mystic’s Gallery”. It was a tiny little shop wedged between “The Enchanted Inkpot” which appeared to be an ancient book shop, and “Bewitched” a clothing store with lacy camisoles and silky robes in the front window. In the window of the gallery were several framed paintings, and Alice stared at them with her jaw hanging open. Really, nothing should surprise her by now, but occasionally something still came up that made her blink in disbelief.

                The largest painting in the window was of a young woman in a yellow dress. The woman stood in a sunny field of bright buttercups. The detail was exquisite, but the most shocking thing was that the painting was constantly moving. The buttercups and the long green grass swayed in an invisible breeze, and the woman was running through the field, arms outstretched, laughing. As she watched, the woman tumbled backwards, her dress swirling around her legs. She lay on her back in the field, kicking up her bare feet and l laughing at the sun.

                The second picture was of a man walking in the rain. He had held a white umbrella that stood out vividly against the grey city backdrop. Alice almost imagined that she could hear the tapping of his feet as he walked over the wet sidewalk, passing colorless, old fashioned storefronts.

                In the opposite corner was the third painting, a little girl in a colorful candy shop who kept jumping from one case to the other, pressing her noise to the glass, pointing at the sweets. Her mother, in an old fashioned thirties style dress, smiled indulgently and nodded.

                “Wow,” Maya breathed, “these are fantastic!”

                “They’re incredible,” Alice walked up the stone stairs and pushed the door open, “I can’t wait to see more.”

                The store was narrow and long on the inside, paintings decorated every spare inch of the high, white walls. The front desk was empty, but they could hear movement in the room at the far end of the shop. The owner was probably back there unpacking new paintings or something. They walked down the length of the store, feet making muffled tapping sounds on the hardwood. The paintings were gorgeous. There were galloping wild horses with sleek chestnut coats, beautiful fall colored trees with birds and squirrels that flicked from branch to branch, rivers that constantly flowed over rocks and ended in rushing waterfalls. There was even a large painting that took up half a wall that depicted a bright carnival. The carousel went around and around, and the children hung off the painted horses, laughing silently, calling out to their parents who stood at the fence watching and snapping pictures.

                “Wow,” Maya shook her head, “this is incredible. Beautifully done. I would love this for our suite. I think Gabriel would really like it.”

                “It’s amazing,” Alice murmured.

                A voice came from the back of the room, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

                They both turned to see a tall, slender woman with light brown curls that draped over her shoulders. She was dressed in a tight red dress and black boots that clicked sharply on the floor as she paced towards them. Her lips were painted bright red, and one side of her mouth curled in what Alice would have readily described as a smirk.

                It was Sara.

                Alice tried not to let her disappointment show. She had really liked this shop, but if this was the person who owned it, it wasn’t likely that she’d be back to visit again. There was something that just rubbed her the wrong way about this woman. Not even the fact that she’d been hitting on her boyfriend, it was more than that even. She was just…sleazy. The way she talked and moved, everything about her.

                Sara stopped about a foot away from them and quirked one dark brow at them, “How are you ladies today? Alice and Maya, right? I remember you.”

                I bet you do, thought Alice.

                Maya didn’t seem to notice that there might be any tension. She gave Sara a wide smile, “How much is this painting? I’m really interested in having it for my suite.”
                “I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” Sara’s voice was a purr, “come back over to the desk with me, “I always give interested costumers my brochure, it tells you a little about each painting.”

                Alice stayed where she was while the two woman walked back over to the desk at the front. Sara’s voice was a low murmur, but Alice could pick up what she was saying. At first the conversation was about the painting, she told Maya that it had been painted by an eccentric witch name “Matilda” who had done most of the paintings in the shop. Apparently the threads were liquefied and poured into each color, allowing the paintings to come alive. Gradually though, the conversation shifted to other things. The shop, the merchandise, the employees…

                “Gabriel and I are dating,” Maya said, giggling a little, “it took him forever to ask me.”

                “And Altair,” Sara said, “what about him? He’s hot.”

                Alice ground her teeth together, her fingers curling into fists around the edge of the counter. She heard Maya say carefully, “Oh, he and Alice are in a relationship. It’s very serious.”

                There was a brief pause, in which Alice couldn’t help smirking. Good old Maya, she’d made that one pretty clear, hadn’t she. There would be no more nonsense anymore…

                Sara was speaking again, her voice low, “Well, as they say. Hockey isn’t any fun without a goalie, right?”

                Alice could feel her mouth drop open, and a ripple of angry heat ran through her. Just who the hell did this woman think she was?

                Another pause, this one far more awkward, and then Maya said, “Anyways, I think we best get back to the shop now. Thanks for telling me about the painting.”

                “Of course, darling.”

                The two girls came around the corner again, still talking. Maya’s face was bright red, but Sara looked as cool as a cucumber. Alice tried to keep her face blank. Something told her that getting angry would just amuse this woman further. This was clearly all some sort of demented game to her.

                She kept her voice cool though, she certainly wasn’t going to be friendly, “We best be on our way. Lovely shop you have here.”

                She turned, hearing Maya’s footsteps following behind her. Sara called after them, voice filled with false cheer, “I’ll come visit you’re shop again soon, see you later ladies.”

                It took everything she had not to slam the door shut behind them.