Chapter 11

Mysti wandered up and down the aisles of the Gladstone Grocery and Fresh Market. Her dad special ordered the herbs she carried. He didn’t sell them in his store, except the ginger and sage. Her little shop exclusively offered the wholistic remedy herbs to the public.

While waiting for him to bring them around to the front, she shopped. Mike, a high school kid and one of the sacker-stock boys, would Bungie the box to her bike. These few groceries, she’d carry in a cloth backpack she wore as a purse.

She picked up some fresh spinach and strawberries. That’d make a nice salad. The produce looked decent, considering it no longer came from her dad’s garden out back of the store. A zucchini caught her eye and she added it to the basket hanging from her arm.

Lex had been gone twelve hours, but it felt like a week. She missed him so much, her body ached for the feel of him. They’d only been dating for a few weeks, but already she had become quite accustomed to his being around. Cooking dinner together, watching tv, or just reading, he had molded into her life as if he had always been a part of it. His absence bore an empty space in her consciousness that literally hurt.

She sighed. Just two more days. Three tops. She frowned. He had reassured her he was coming back. Why couldn’t she believe it to be true? Better question: why did she feel so certain he wouldn’t come back at all? His family lived in Bastrop, near Austin, Texas. It was a good 15-16 hour drive straight through. Man, she didn’t envy his backside when he got there. Although, if he’d asked her to go, too, she’d have dropped everything and gone with him. Why didn’t he want her to go? What was he really doing?

“Well, look what the black cat drug in and left on the family rug!” A repulsive voice broke through her tempestuous thoughts. She glanced up, still smelling the tomato she had lifted to her nose.

Reverend Begley glared at her with such disdain. “I didn’t realize you shopped here. I thought you’d be in some cultic market, buying eye of newt or wing of bat?” He laughed too loud.

Mysti looked over the reverend’s shoulder in hopes her father was nearby. No sign of him or Mike. “Hardly,” she said as dismissively as possible.

Obadiah stepped closer to her and leaned in to speak near her ear. “Well, I want you to know, your witcheries haven’t worked.” His breath reeked of onions and sauerkraut and she moved back from him. “Pastor Cayden came to me a few days ago and repented. He realized what you are and what you had done to cast your spell or whatever your kind do to people.” He straightened with a self-righteous smile stretching his mouth wide on his abundant face.

Mysti pressed against the tomato bin, displacing one which fell to the floor. The precision with which they had been stacked on the angled bin caused a domino effect and one by one they began to roll down the side of the bin and out onto the floor. Mysti tried to stop the avalanche with her hands and arms, but they kept coming. She stepped away, but slipped on the tomatoes and fell on her bottom. Tomatoes continued to cascade over her, covering her in tomato guts. Every effort she made to stand, squished another tomato and caused her to slide back to the floor.

Obadiah stood triumphantly over her, watching her helplessly flounder on the white tiled floor. A huge evil smile dimpled his cheeks. She hated him more than she had before. He was a horrible man. Once the tomato avalanche slowed and then stopped. He leaned down to her ear. His breath sickened her.

“Alexander Cayden told you he went to see his family for a few days, didn’t he? That was my idea. Never tell your enemy the truth. Especially when she’s a witch!”

Begley stood straight again. Mysti struggled to regain her footing but the slimy tomato mess prevented her from gaining any footing. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she bit her lip to prevent them from falling. She would not give Begley the satisfaction.

“He’s not gone to his mother’s, you stupid girl. I sent him to the Denominational Headquarters for a spiritual cleansing. We needed a specialist in the occults to clean out the filth you adhered to his soul. Close the gateways you opened to make him vulnerable to your master’s evil influences. That boy needed an exorcism to set him right again. All because of you!” Spit flew from his lips and she felt the spray. Nausea gnawed at the back of her throat.

Mysti managed to get on her hands and knees. She still slipped and slid but clawed and crawled away from the barrage of hateful words that Begley kept riveting at her. Where was her dad? Why wouldn’t anybody help her? She wished she was a witch. She’d shoot fire from her fingertips and cremate this hideous gargoyle of a man.

“We sent him to Baja, California,” he continued. “To a retreat specialist who will undo everything you did to my Youth Pastor. In three or four days, he’ll return to us a new man, a whole man, a righteous man.”

“Mysti!” Her father’s voice boomed across the vegetable bins. Still, on all fours, she lifted her head. Tears spilled and she cried out. “Daddy, make him stop!”

Henry’s eyes darted to Begley who raised his hands as if in surrender. “I just now walked up and she flopped on the floor. I suspect her demons threw her down. You should bring her to the Denominational Headquarters for deliverance, Henry. We’ll be praying for her and you, shoot, we ought to pray for the whole Gladstone family, till then.”

“Get outta my store, Begley, and never come back!” Henry’s cheeks flushed almost purple. “You’re not welcome to shop here ever again!” Henry lifted Mysti, holding her under the armpits. He pulled a white rag, which he kept in the ties of his apron, and wiped her face. She sobbed against him. Glancing over her shoulder. Begley sauntered toward the automatic doors.