Page 17 of Two’s A Charm

CRAFTY WITCHES

Effie

It was craft night at the library, and Effie was rushing about printing last-minute signage and hunting for the boxes of safety scissors, which always seemed to go walkabout.

Perhaps there was some connection between this and the missing pages in the National Geographic collection, thought Effie, as she rifled through the storeroom.

‘It’ll be fine, Eff,’ called Tessa easily, leaning back in her chair as Effie hurried into the community room again, this time with a box of crayons, which she was fairly certain weren’t needed for a crochet turtle night.

But you could never be too prepared. Especially at this particular moment in time, where anyone could come striding through the doors with an armload of poetry and a giant donation cheque.

‘Found the scissors,’ she panted, setting down a red plastic tub shaped like a giant Lego brick.

‘Brilliant,’ said Tess. ‘And I brought stress balls for when everyone gets stuck trying to figure out the slipknot and casting on. Well, not actual stress balls. Hacky sacks. But close enough.’

Effie and Tessa spent a few minutes arranging and rearranging yarn and crochet hooks until everything looked perfect, then slumped down in their chairs, ready for the chaos to begin.

‘I do love these classes,’ said Tess. ‘Gives me something to do.’

Effie straightened the chairs around the table. ‘The dog walking isn’t fulfilling you, huh?’

‘I’m starting to think I might need something that involves occasional conversations with someone of the human persuasion.

’ Tessa’s phone buzzed, and she smiled down at the message.

‘Oh hey, Claudette just received her cat statue. His name is KitKat, and he’s going to have pride of place on her bookshelf. ’

She flashed a photo of Claudette’s room, which was packed like Tetris on hard mode with cat statues of all shapes, colours and sizes. Effie wondered how Claudette could sleep without worrying about being crushed to death.

‘I’m glad Uncle Oswald was able to do some good,’ Effie said, zooming in on the cat picture.

‘Ah, he can’t be all bad. He’s Lyra’s brother, after all.’

‘I’ll remember that when Claudette starts frantically texting you about the cursed cat in her bedroom.’

Tessa laughed. ‘At least Claudette will get some good viral video content out of it. Which means dear old Ozzy will, too.’

Effie blanched. ‘Uncle Oswald does social media?’

‘Wow, Effie, we need to get you into the twenty-first century.’

‘I’ve posted photos!’ Effie did some simple posting for the library’s social media accounts, which had been stuck at under twenty followers for three years. However, she’d never ventured into the world of short-form video. That was more Bonnie’s realm.

‘Anyway,’ Tessa went on, ‘he did this rant about how Gen Z’s obsession with the New Age movement was bad for society. It was a full boomer moment. I wish I’d screenshotted it. He took it down almost immediately.’

‘Sounds like a repeat of the infamous Chalmers family dinner party five years ago when he got into the after-dinner port,’ said Effie wryly. ‘Mom had to drive him home.’

But Tessa had turned her attention to the door. ‘Ooh, we’ve got some crafters!’

A small cluster of baggy-clothed teens loafed into the room, shouldering novelty tote bags adorned with fluffy animal keyrings and sparkly beaded adornments. From their woollen beanies and bracelets, they all looked as though they were old hands at crocheting.

‘Welcome to craft night!’ exclaimed Tessa, clapping her hands. Tessa loved a crowd almost as much as Bonnie, just a different type.

Then she faltered, for Alana was peeking around the open doorframe. She looked slightly nervous, as though she’d been swept up by a tornado and deposited into a strange land. A giant takeaway coffee cup from The Winged Monkey wavered slightly in her hand.

‘ I want coffee,’ said one of the teens enviously. ‘Being awake is so hard.’

‘It’s the worst,’ agreed another, who was twirling the crochet yarn between their fingers.

‘Come on in, Alana.’ Effie pulled up a chair for Bonnie’s friend, surprised to see one of Bonnie’s entourage, who were well known for their preference for photos over words.

But the library was for everyone, and it was Effie’s goal to make sure every single person who entered was greeted with the kindness and inclusion that only a library could offer.

Alana perched at the edge of the seat, her floaty kaftan wafting like a peacock’s feathers. She fiddled with the large wooden crochet hook that Tessa had set out before her.

‘Hi,’ said Tessa shyly. ‘I really enjoyed yoga the other day. I think I discover new muscles every time.’

Alana idly spun the crochet hook on the table. When it stopped, pointing at Tessa, she clapped her hands over it, her cheeks growing red.

Effie felt a light twist of jealousy, but pushed it deep back down inside her where it belonged. Tessa was her best friend, and always would be.

‘So, we’re making turtles, huh?’ Alana said finally, tapping the pattern with her rainbow nails.

Tessa nodded. ‘In honour of Shelby’s centenary, plus or minus ten years.’

Alana grinned. ‘Hey, when you hit that age, you deserve every celebration. Anyway, my uncle has a tortoise habitat in his backyard. He has a whole arrangement with the zoo in Emerald. His birthday is coming up, and I thought he’d like one. And when I saw that you—’

She broke off as a knock at the doorframe interrupted them.

‘Room for one more?’ Theo shot the crafters a crooked smile filled with decidedly uncrooked teeth.

The pair of scissors Effie had been holding snapped shut.

What was he doing here? When she’d said the library was for everyone, she hadn’t meant interlopers from the city in fancy loafers and extremely well-fitting shirts that were most definitely professionally tailored.

Even if they did read poetry and have lovely eyes.

‘Always,’ said Tessa, patting the empty chair next to Effie, who drummed her scissors on the table. ‘Have you guys crocheted before?’

‘Nuh-uh.’ Alana rolled a length of wool between her fingers.

‘A bit.’ In demonstration, Theo made a slipknot and quickly knocked out a chain stitch. ‘My mom is really into it. When I visited on weekends during college we’d watch 80s movies and make creatures to donate to local non-profits.’

Tessa, standing behind Theo, raised an eyebrow at Effie. ‘A keeper,’ she mouthed, jabbing a finger.

Standing, Effie set her hands on her hips. Everything felt unsettled and odd, like she’d been drawn into a game of musical chairs without knowing it. ‘I have to do some reshelving. Let me know if things get unruly, and I’ll bring the spray bottle.’

The teens looked alarmed at this.

‘Not the spray bottle!’ exclaimed Tessa in faux alarm. ‘Won’t someone think of the children?’

Effie shook her head and left Tessa to her crafting session.

Tessa was a natural. From the murmuring and giggles that emanated from the room, the session was proving a hit.

Alana looked surprisingly engaged, and even Theo was happily crafting away, Effie noticed, as she stood on her tiptoes to see over the Fantasy book display that took up most of the window space.

Not that she particularly cared whether Theo was having a good time, unless it was reflected in any future reviews he might leave Tessa or the library.

Theo seemed like a reviewing type, and you never knew what kind of rating system he might employ.

All right, Effie. Less hypothesizing, more shelving.

She pushed the books cart along the plush carpets, glancing about as she surreptitiously used her magic to scoot books back into place or return them to the top shelves.

Yes, the library had ladders, and Effie had made good use of them early on in her career, but a quick flick of magic moved things along faster than her arms and legs could.

Just so long as she stuck to her base rules: only use magic on non-human things, and even then, only use it when no one was around.

Things got weird and complicated otherwise.

Spells on people tended to backfire, as there were so many factors to consider.

The ripple effect of shifting someone’s behaviour could never be properly predicted, and even worse than that was the risk of becoming known as the person who could cast spells.

No, much better to simply use magic to clean up litter by the side of the road, or reach something on the top shelf.

Effie rolled the cart around, diligently returning books and gathering up the occasional baby sock or stuffed animal that a parent would no doubt shortly call about.

Every book she put back, she gave a quick once-over, running her thumb over the jacket and scanning the back cover copy.

She was always intrigued by the books that people picked out.

Just what inspired an obsessive foray into the fauna of Papua New Guinea?

How many tomes about artisanal cheesemaking could one possibly flip through?

Why were there so many folded pages in the ogre erotica?

She suspected she knew the answer to this one, but didn’t want to think too deeply about it.

She was returning the cart to the circulation desk when she happened across two of the library’s most avid graphic novel readers browsing the crystal display she’d put together after her visit to Behind the Curtain the other evening.

‘Wow, it’s so shiny,’ said one of the girls, who was studying for an audio engineering certificate and could often be found, headphones on, fiddling around on Pro Tools in the reading room.

Amy something. ‘And the descriptions. Can you seriously just find this stuff out on the trails? I don’t know, I thought that you had to mine it or something. ’

‘From the moon,’ agreed her friend, who was a tattoo artist apprentice, always sketching out designs in her notebook. Abigail.