The Wildcard Witch

7 || Wonderful Disasters

      "I bet you're wondering why would someone keep so many creepy old dolls," the man continued, dusting off his hands on his apron.

      She nodded, surprised that the man read her expression so well.

      "Because it's history. If we don't hold onto pieces of history, we lose touch with the past. It's one thing to talk about the things people played with in the past, but to see them, touch them and hold them connects us. You might see scary dolls now, but back then, these dolls brought some small girl joy and happiness," he said, staring over the shelves fondly.

      The man picked up a small wooden doll with black hair. The doll had on a dress the same color as Phoebe's shirt. In fact, weirdly, she couldn't help, but feel like the doll looked too much like herself.

      He placed the doll back where it was meant to be and adjusted it, so it sat perfectly, just as it did before. "Eventually all things become antiques, even people," he said wistfully.

      "Phoebe! It's not here, let's go!" Rebecca called out.

      Quickly, Phoebe mumbled out goodbye and scrambled to rush over to her mother. She knew it was rude to leave the way she did, but something about the store, the man, and everything just felt wrong.

      She eagerly hurried back to the car and only felt relief once the doors were locked and her mother drove out of the parking lot.

      "I didn't like that place," Phoebe admitted, exhaling out all her tension. "There was an old man in the back and he was trying to talk to me about dolls."

      "Ah. That was Mr. Hammond, he's the owners' husband. He's just a nice, harmless old man. Nothing to be afraid of,"

      "He wasn't the scary part. Everything about that place just felt..." her voice drifted. She tried to think of a word to describe the feeling.

      Haunted. That was the word she was looking for.

      "The energy was wrong," Phoebe said instead.

      Rebecca smiled at the road and humored Phoebe with a brief glance. "It was just a shop filled with old things. Nothing more, nothing less. Remember what I told you?"

      She did know. Phoebe's mother raised her without believing in Santa Claus, the Easter bunny, or any fantasy creatures that brought joy or terror.

       "In this world, there's you, there's me, there's them and there are the things of the earth," Phoebe recited with an eye-roll.

      "That's right. That's all there is. Just us, and them. . ."

***

It had been three years since Phoebe had last visited Norfolk. The trip she'd taken with her mother to the antique shop was their last trip before her mother's disappearance. They never did find that apothecary cabinet her mother so desperately searched for, and with the realization that witches and warlocks were real, Phoebe began to question everything she was ever taught.

      She allowed Xavier to drive, but only because she didn't know where they needed to go. After a lengthy car ride, they arrived at Norfolk late in the afternoon, just on the cusp of the sun making its journey down towards the horizon.

      Xavier parked the car in front of the same old antique shop Phoebe had visited in the past with her mother.

      Phoebe rested both hands on the dash carefully, feeling her whole body freeze over. "Wait. Why are we here?"