Page 41 of Two’s A Charm
Effie made a slow loop around the town, trying to take in the quietude and draw the stillness of the night into herself to quell the anxiety that wouldn’t settle after her nightmare.
She skated past the local landmarks: the belltower was all that stood of the church that had burned down a decade before after votive candles and pigeon nests had come together to cause a terrible (but memorable) conflagration.
The Wall of Moss by the old theatre. The huge oak that soared over the garden park not far from the library, which all three of the Chalmers women had chalked their initials on over and over with every visit – Mom had made them promise never to etch their initials into a tree, for doing so caused a rift between you and its spirit.
They’d stuck with chalk, although Bonnie had famously made her mark on various bits of wet cement over the years, and there was a patch of graffiti on one of the underpasses that Effie had her suspicions about as well.
The night remained quiet. It was just Effie and the nocturnal animal denizens out and about now.
A possum’s eyes glowed, regarding her from the safety of an azalea bush as she skated past; a thatch of raccoons paused their looting of a dumpster; an owl gave a staccato serenade to the moon.
It was hard not to be mesmerized by it all, by the spell that the dark cast over the town, like they were all Sleeping Beauty under the magic of the stars.
Everything in its own way was magic.
Her anxiety slowly gave way to the different kind of heart-pounding that came with physical exertion.
She started to retrace her steps – glides, perhaps – continuing her loop back towards the stately family home that Effie was determined to hang on to, no matter how much of the wiring needed to be replaced or the plumbing redone, and no matter how much Effie’s librarian salary did not stretch that far.
Hopefully her patchwork of hexes and charms (and Bonnie’s help with the electrical box) would stave off the worst of it for now.
Ah, the familiar Yellowbrick Grove of Garden Perfection sign that meant she was a few scoots from home.
But as Effie got closer, she frowned. Something was amiss with the house, which was known for its dramatic floral displays (Freddie had spent countless hours in the library researching how to achieve pH neutral soil conditions).
And, of course, its lush, rolling lawn, which had somehow been kept safe from moles and gophers, something she considered Freddie’s own particular brand of magic.
Effie pulled up on her roller skates, albeit not very well.
She had to grab the fence to stop from falling over.
Although even if she’d been wearing regular shoes, she might still have toppled over in shock.
For Freddie’s magnificent, putting-green-worthy lawn was.
..ragged. There were yellowy bits like a dog had been peeing all over it with a vengeance.
(Effie had learned from Freddie’s library expeditions about the high nitrogen levels in dog urine, which could alter lawn pH levels and kill grass.
This was the primary reason that Freddie was an indoor-pet kind of guy.)
And it wasn’t just the lawn that was in sorry shape. The shrubs were unkempt, the pretty pansies were dehydrated, and the usually voluminous hydrangea bushes looked like they were hanging on for dear life. Moreover, was that a weed ?
Effie tried to think when she’d last seen Freddie.
She had bumped into him at the supermarket a few days earlier, and he’d seemed well enough.
They’d laughed over how he couldn’t remember where he’d parked his car, and that every car these days was a silver SUV.
Effie had told him he needed a golf cart, or a membership to the rental scooter company.
Besides, Freddie was only sixty or so, and extremely spry from all that gardening.
A light was on inside, so presumably he was up. Would it be wrong to go and check on him?
Effie steeled herself. Introverted as she was, she couldn’t abide the thought of bypassing someone who needed her help.
She swung open the perfectly balanced gate – much smoother than the one at the Chalmers house, which had seen better days and sagged like the ultra-comfy bra Effie couldn’t bring herself to throw out.
Pulling her sleeve down over her wrist, she knocked lightly, hoping that would be less startling than ringing the doorbell in the middle of the night.
‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Freddie?’
Relief as she heard some shuffling and scuffling about inside.
Freddie was alive at least. Although now she felt a bit silly, banging on someone’s door to do a welfare check when they were probably just up watching Golden Girls reruns.
She waved awkwardly as she saw a shadow pass over the peephole on the door.
‘Hi,’ she called, trying to look unassuming and not like a weird stalker as Freddie opened the door. ‘It’s just me.’
‘Who are you?’ he asked, looking judgementally down at her roller skates.
Effie stammered. This wasn’t the greeting she’d been expecting. ‘Effie. Effie Chalmers. I live a few houses down.’ And then, because it tended to help people place her, ‘Bonnie’s sister.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Freddie, in a tone that didn’t sound any less confused. ‘Well, that’s good to know.’
‘So, you’re okay?’ she pressed, giving him a once-over to make sure he wasn’t sporting a head wound or something that might indicate why he’d suddenly let his beloved lawn quite literally go to seed.
She sniffed. No gas leak that she could smell.
Although it could be carbon monoxide, which was unfortunately odourless.
Freddie squinted at her. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? Are you okay? You’re the one coming to my door in the middle of the night. Is someone chasing you? Do you need me to help you get home?’
Effie shook her head. ‘Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about. Sorry to bother you.’
As Effie carefully made her way back down the front steps, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something odd was going on in the town.
Sabine’s tardiness, Freddie’s lawn, Bobby’s shift in allegiance from Bonnie to Kirsty – it all felt so strange.
Was Effie just being hypercritical and overly set in her ways, the way Bonnie always said, or was something else at play?