Tuesday Tales: From the Word CRAZY

Welcome to August and this week’s Tuesday tales, based on the word CRAZY. I’m continuing with Pumpkin Spice, and I have a surprise for you. The cover is ready!

“If I had the power to do so, I’d shrink that bully’s testicles to the size of peas and then shove them down his chauvinistic throat,” Clara declared. “The minute he took over the bar, he started treating you and the other women working for him like chattel, as if, like the stools and the rest of the furniture, you belonged to him, and he could do whatever he damn well pleased with you. You did the right thing by walking out on him. Of course, I would’ve poured that pitcher of martinis over his head on my way by. You should ask your aunt and her Wiccan sisters to curse him for us. Would she do that?”

I shook my head. “As much as I would enjoy seeing Stan taken down a peg or two, the Wiccan Rede, their moral code, is very specific when it comes to harming others and stresses personal responsibility and integrity.”

She harrumphed. “Fine, if they say so, but that’s crazy. Some people don’t deserve compassion. They could benefit from a dose or two of their own medicine. Witch or not, your Aunt Selma is the nicest old lady I’ve ever met. What are you going to do?” She placed the bowl of popcorn on the table and muted the television.

I’d taken Clara to visit my aunt at Easter last spring, They’d hit it off with Clara claiming to have heard Hester—no doubt to humor my aunt. A few weeks later, Aunt Clara had visited Boston, loading up with goodies from Vintages. Clara was the consummate salesperson, and if claiming to believe in ghosts helped with sales, she was all over it. She’d picked up several questionable items from estate sales. No doubt they’d all be gone by Halloween. Lots of people believed in the supernatural. Why was I so determined that it didn’t exist?

“What can I do? I’m going back to Salem. I’ll stay as long as she needs me. She isn’t getting any younger and living by herself … I doubt I’ll come back to the bar, but if I can’t find anything in Salem…” I shrugged.

“Sweetie, you can always work for me. I’m considering opening a second location in P-town next year. Think of it. You can manage this place for me—open a consulting room in the back. That degree of yours shouldn’t be wasted. Imagine buying new-to-you clothes and cleansing your soul. Recycling your wardrobe and your attitude. The possibilities are endless!”

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales