Page 36 of Hex You

“I swear I heard waves. Or water. And do you smell—” Squealing tires interrupted her and pulled their attention back to the street in time to see a man get out of a car stopped at Goodeville’s only light. He sprinted to the car behind him just as another man was getting out of his car. The two men were red-faced and shouting, though she couldn’t make out their words. Then the first man pushed the second, who fell against his car and then as he straightened he came up swinging punches at the other guy.

“OMG, are there actually two grown menfightingin the middle of Main Street?” Emily shook her head in shock as they stared.

“Is this normal behavior for your people?” Khenti asked.

“No. I really don’t think so,” said Mercy.

A sheriff’s car pulled up, lights flashing but sirens off. Deputy Carter jumped out of the car and rushed to separate the two men, who were now rolling around in the street.

Across from the pizzeria the bell on the door to Kingpin Lanes chimed manically as two matronly women burst from the bowling alley.

“I know you threw that water on me!” the first woman shouted as she shook water from her damp hair.

“Oh, Judith, don’t be ridiculous. You’re just going through The Change and sweating like a whore in church. Stop blaming me and get you some hormones, old woman.”

“Is that the Freeman sisters?” Emily asked as their attention shifted from the street fight to the bowling alley.

“Yeah,” Mercy said. “Patricia and, um, I can’t remember her sister’s name. Wow. They’re a big part of the booster club. I’ve never seen them so much as say one mean word to each other before.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to doorcall me old!” Patricia’s hand snaked out and she slapped her sister across the face before spinning around and stomping away.

“I won’t be going to the city with you for Sunday dinner this weekend!” her sister shouted after her.

“You’re uninvited anyway!” yelled Patricia without turning around.

“Something is wrong,” Khenti said. Then he wiped moisture from his forehead.

“It didn’t feel this humid earlier. Maybe there’s a storm rolling in,” said Mercy as she lifted her hair from her neck. “Ugh. Where’s a breeze when you need it? Let’s get our pizza and go home.”

Mr. Mitchell looked up from the bar at the sound of the door opening. “Oh, hey there, Hunter and Emily.”

“I’m Mercy,” she corrected automatically. “I wanna place a to-go order.” She, Emily, and Khenti slid onto barstools and Mercy quickly ordered Xena’s disgusting pizza and two large veggie pies with four salads—as well as root beer floats for the three of them while they waited.

“What is a root beer float?” Khenti whispered to her.

“Well, it’s usually a yummy dessert, but with what’s going on outside I thought we deserved a treat,” said Mercy as Mr. Mitchell put the floats in front of them. “Thanks, Mr. Mitchell. Hey, um, have you noticed any weirdness in town this evening?”

Mr. Mitchell sighed and placed his hands on his hips and jerked his chin in the direction of the street. “Well, I don’t know about out there. I’ve been too busy taking care of business in here. I’ve had to kick three people out of the pizzeria this afternoon for rudeness—and that’s a first in my two decades of owning this place.”

“I like it,” Khenti said.

“I don’t.” Mercy frowned as she stared out the picture window atthe second Freeman sister, who was backing out of her parking space and narrowly avoided hitting a car. She actually rolled down her window and, red-faced, shouted atand flipped offthe driver of the car she’d almost hit.

“I meant the root beer float.”

“Oh, sorry, Khenti. Yeah, they’re yummy. Em, how old would you say the Freeman sisters are?”

Emily followed her gaze to see the Freeman sister squeal tires down Main Street. “They’ve gotta be, like, at least sixty or so. Seriously grandma old.”

“Have you ever in your life seen grown women fight like that in public?” Mercy asked.

“Never.”

“As I said before: something feels wrong.” Khenti kept his voice low so that the families eating at the red-and-white-checkered tables couldn’t hear them.

“Well, yeah, grown folks hitting each other in the middle of Main Street is definitely wrong,” said Emily.

“It is more than that,” continued Khenti between sips of his float. “I spent almost the entire day outside with Xena. We walked a lot, visited your Norse tree, followed that little path through the fields. That all felt right. But this”—he gestured out at Main Street—“doesn’t feel anything like that. It reminds me of the banyan tree—death and decomposition and darkness. It is as if your town has been cursed, or more precisely, hexed.”