Gray Magic

Beanie knew for sure she was being followed when the man also turned onto Silver Street. There was little reason for anyone to take Silver, even Beanie. The main entrance to her building, the one everyone used, was on Astor. But the streetlight by the front door was still broken, and she didn't want to give the man any extra advantages. The man already towered over her slight frame, and if he got within arms' reach, it would be easy enough for him to use her ponytail as a lever to take her down. If she was honest with herself, she knew she was being followed much earlier, pretty much from the moment she left the bar. But she wanted to be wrong, hoped he just happened to be going in a similar direction for a different reason.

Now it was almost too late. The back door was less than fifty paces from her now, but she was wary to lead him straight to her home. Where else could she go? Her eyes roved wildly as she picked up the pace. Could she run between the buildings on the left to Rosewood Lane? If she made it, she would be just a block from the gas station. A public place would be a safe spot. But if she didn't make it, if he caught up with her before she got there, who knows what might happen.

"Oh, Bianca, there you are," came a slow, dry drawl from the shadow of the building.

Beanie stopped and turned toward the sound. A woman stepped out into the street, her face in shadow. She was backlit from the porch light, and the way it hit her frizzy curls made her look some combination of lion and angel. It took a minute for Beanie to recognize the thin frame as that of Cassandra Seda, the woman who lived in the apartment beneath her.

"I've been waiting for you," Cassandra said. She was clearly speaking to Beanie but she delivered the line while staring directly at the man who was now stopped in his tracks just a few feet behind. "Dear Agnes isn't taking her dinner. Perhaps I'll have better luck if you offer it to her? Do you have time to come in?"

Beanie knew most of her neighbors by sight, but she wasn’t close with any of them. She said hello when she passed someone in the hall, had exchanged pleasantries in the parking lot, but she had never been inside any of their apartments. Certainly, she had no idea who Dear Agnes was. But she was grateful the woman understood the situation and offered assistance. Beanie stepped quickly toward her, her heart beating so ferociously she feared she might pass out.

"Yes, sure," Beanie said loud enough for the man to hear, her voice shaking. She made a point not to look at him. "I have a few minutes."

Cassandra ushered Beanie through the door and down the hallway to her apartment. Beanie kept looking over her shoulder, even though there was no way the man could get through the outside door without the code. She expected him to be staring through the window, but he never appeared.  Cassandra closed the apartment door and at the sound of the lock clicking into place, Beanie finally let out the breath she’d been holding. She stood awkwardly in Cassandra’s kitchen rubbing her palms together in an attempt to mitigate the sweat that had gathered there.

The apartment was very warm, much hotter than Beanie's, even though she lived directly above, but there was a coziness to the heat. With the amount of plants unfolding their leaves from every surface, the room felt like a rainforest. Beanie waited by the kitchen table while the older woman took two mugs from one of the higher shelves. She was so tall, her elegant arms so long, that she didn't even need to stand on her toes to reach.

"Tea?" She placed two mugs on the counter just as the kettle on the stove started to scream.

"Yes, thank you," Beanie said. The rush of adrenaline was subsiding, and she could no longer hear her pulse in her ears. "Thank you for rescuing me out there."

"I didn't want to interfere if that man was someone you wanted to follow you." Cassandra filled two small satchels with tea or herbs from a tin and placed one in each, then filled the mugs with water. “But I got the impression that was not the case.”

"No, uh, that was not the case," Beanie said, trying to keep her mind off other potential scenarios that might have played out. "I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do."

"I had a feeling," Cassandra turned and placed the mugs on the table. "Please, sit."

She sat down in one of the chairs. Beanie was about to sit on the other when she noticed a smoke-colored tabby staring up at her with sage green eyes. 

"Agnes," Cassandra said. "Let Bianca sit."

The cat hopped down onto the floor and slinked away. She crouched on an elaborate woven carpet in front of a ceramic bowl and carefully picked out a tiny piece of kibble to crunch. The basic layout of the apartment was the same as Beanie's but everything about it was a little extra. Instead of a simple metal faucet, water poured from the mouth of a tall brass snake. The curtains were made of a heavy fabric that would have been right at home in an ancient library. The table and the countertops were made from large slabs of wood that had been shellacked to a glistening shine.

"Agnes thinks everything is hers."

"I guess that means she doesn't actually need my help with her dinner," Beanie said. It felt both fantastic and insane to be joking, but there was a soothing quality to Cassandra that made her feel like maybe there had never been a man following her at all.

"Oh, our dear Agnes never needs help with dinner. Unless she saving someone from danger."

Beanie took a sip of tea and let out a deep sigh. She was suddenly aware of the ache in her muscles from holding tension, in her jaw from being clenched. It was her turn to volley in the conversation, she knew, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Are you feeling well?” Cassandra asked. “Do you need anything? Do you want me to call anyone?”

“No,” Beanie said shaking her head. She’d considered calling the police, but she knew that wouldn’t help or change anything. “Truly, though, thank you so much.”

"You already thanked me," Cassandra said with a wink. "But you are more than welcome. We all find ourselves in trying situations from time to time."

"I was stupid. I stopped into this bar after work and had a couple of drinks with some friends. Then this guy sent us over another round, and we never even talked to him, but then when I left, he did too. I just kept convincing myself he was going to eventually walk away."

"You were not stupid, Bianca. You took Silver because the streetlight is out, right? That's very smart."

"I did. How did you know that?"

"It's what I would have done."

Beanie smiled. It felt reassuring to be validated by this woman who so clearly had her life together, judging by the number of plants she managed to keep alive. She took another sip of the tea, which tasted like earth. At a different moment, she might have made a face and poured the rest of it down the drain. But something about the vibe in the apartment made the challenging flavor oddly inviting. She felt both sharper and more relaxed with each sip, as if the liquid was simultaneously intoxicating and sobering. 

"He wasn't even really that nice to us at the bar. He sent us lite beers. Like that's supposed to impress anyone? What a loser."

Cassandra smiled but didn't say anything. She watched Beanie with golden eyes over the lip of her mug as she took another sip of tea.

"Sorry. Is that mean? It's easy to say that now that I'm not worried he's going to leave my body in a ditch."

"I think some hostility is justified given the circumstances."

"Right? He's the one who belongs in a ditch. By the way, this tea is amazing."

"I know," Cassandra said. She squinted at Beanie like she was making an assessment and then announced her findings. "You're an interesting woman, Bianca. You start your day quite early. Making the most of those early hours has a lot of benefits."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Seda," Beanie said. "Is it annoying? If my TV is too loud, let me know."

"Oh, please. Call me Cassandra. And no, the volume is fine. It's good for your energy to rise with the sun."

"I don't know if I use that time particularly wisely. I work for this marketing company and I’m just an assistant in the graphics department, but I have these ideas, you know? And really, my boss doesn’t ever bother to look at them, but sometimes I just have to get them down on paper. Plus it’s a great time to watch weird horror movies from the bowels of Netflix."

"I believe there are benefits to anything that leaves you feeling fulfilled in some way."

Beanie laughed. Cassandra was probably referring to the drawings, but she wanted to deflect from that subject. She didn’t want to give the impression they were any more than rough sketches that would never see the light of day. "Well, some of the movies are actually pretty good. In the way that they're so terrible that it reverses itself. You know?"

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean," Cassandra said.

#

The next morning, while she lay safe in her bed, Beanie thought again about how lucky she was that Cassandra had stepped in when she did. The sun had just appeared over the horizon and gentle light filtered in through the curtains. She noticed her sparse shelves, holding the basic necessities, the only decoration a photo from her sister’s law school graduation. Maybe it was time to commit to a plant or two to liven up the space. Not anything fancy like Cassandra had. But maybe a low maintenance succulent or two.

She got out of bed, turned on the Sunday morning news, and made some coffee. It didn't taste as satisfying as it usually did. Beanie wished that she had some more of the tea from last night. The next time she saw Cassandra she would have to remember to ask exactly what it was so she could get some.

"Police have discovered the body of an unidentified man in a ravine near Royal Creek," the news anchor said. "They found no identification on the body. If you recognize this man, please call the number for the police station here on your screen."

Beanie looked up in time to catch the photo for just a second. Her brain was slow to process what she saw, but a moment later she was sure. The unidentified man was the same one who followed her home. She turned up the volume.

"Police have not established a cause of death," the news anchor continued. "But there is no evidence of foul play."

Beanie left her Chex soggy in milk and ran down the stairs. She didn't notice until she was knocking on Cassandra's door that she was still in her sweatpants and slippers, but there wasn’t time to be embarrassed.

Cassandra opened the door with Agnes in her arms. She was already fully dressed in black pants and an intricately embroidered yellow sweater that made her legs look like the stems of the sunflower of her body.

"Bianca," she said. "How lovely to see you again so soon. Please come in."

"Have you seen the news?" Beanie whispered. She closed the door behind her.

"No, I haven't. I don't really watch television."

The room, of course, looked exactly the same as it had the night before, but there was something different about it. It felt alive, as if the plants had woken from their slumber and were active participants. Cassandra let Agnes down, and she rubbed the side of her furry body against the base of a mahogany hutch that displayed an array of mis-matched but coordinated glassware.

"The man? The one who followed me last night? He's dead."

"You seem very upset by this turn of events," Cassandra said. "I'm not sure that I can say I'm terribly disappointed to hear our disrespectful friend is no longer with us."

"Did you know that was going to happen?"

"What do you mean?"

Beanie studied Cassandra's face. If she was lying she was incredibly good at it. 

"Do you want to know how he died?"

"Sure."

"They don't know. It's like he just...dropped dead."

"Well, I can't imagine he was very bright. It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't take particularly good care of himself."

"Do you remember what I said last night?"

"Bianca, dear. This is an awful lot of questions so early in the morning."

"I said he was the one who belonged in a ditch. I said that to you. And then it happened."

"A fateful coincidence for sure. But the human brain is miraculous at finding patterns."

"So you're saying you had nothing to do with what happened to that guy."

"I wish harm on no one, not even creeps who follow young women on the street. And even if I did, I was here with you. We don’t know where he went once we came inside. How would I know where to find him?"

It was a good argument, but Beanie wasn't entirely convinced. She felt a gentle pressure at her ankle and looked down. Agnes was rubbing against Beanie's leg. She reached down and scratched the cat's soft head.

"Do you have time for a cup of tea this morning?" Cassandra asked. If the implication of Beanie's line of questioning insulted her at all, she shrugged it off with ease.

"Uh, sure, I guess," Beanie said. She hadn't planned on spending this much of the morning downstairs, but now that she was in Cassandra's lush apartment, she found herself in no rush to leave. "I actually wanted to ask you about the tea."

"You like it?" Cassandra asked as she set a copper-colored ceramic mug in front of Beanie. Elaborate designs were carved around the side that could be some kind of ancient language. "It's my own blend."

Agnes jumped up into Beanie's lap the moment she sat down.

"It's not something I would usually go for, but yeah. I love it."

"If you want some, I can give you tin. I sell it at my shop. Here, take a card. It has the hours on it. Stop by anytime."

The cat rubbed her head into the middle of Beanie's chest. She curled Agnes's long tail around her hand absentmindedly.

"Someone has a new best friend." 

"This is amazing, actually," Beanie said. "Animals don't usually like me."

"Agnes is drawn to people who possess great power."

"Power? I'd hardly describe myself as powerful."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. She certainly sees something in you."

Beanie just smiled and looked down at the cat, who leaned against her with gentle pressure. 

"I think you might be wrong," Beanie said quietly as she stroked the cat. "But I'll take a misplaced compliment like that any day."

#

"Are you coming out for happy hour?"

Beanie looked up from her computer. Meg, one of the other administrative assistants at Wotcher and Bowles stood in front of her desk. She was already wearing her red pea coat, already holding her purse and the New Yorker tote bag she used to carry her lunch.

"What time is it?" Beanie asked. She'd been buried beneath pointless emails all day. She hadn't looked at the clock since she returned from lunch.

"It's just past five," Meg said. "Let's get out of here, it's Thirsty Thursday. Four dollar margaritas at Thalia's."

Beanie had joined Meg and a couple of other assistants for happy hour before, but she just wasn't interested. It had been four days and she still felt a little unsettled from the events that had taken place over the previous weekend. It had been the kind of day where she'd wasted an exhausting amount of time cleaning up after other people's mistakes: deadlines they missed even though they'd received several reminders, requests for information that they could have found themselves in less time than it took to send the email. She'd had enough.

"Raincheck," Beanie said. "I have some stuff I have to do this evening." 

Beanie turned off her computer and grabbed her coat from the rack. The black wool was covered in tiny gray hairs. As she walked down the stairs and out the door, she tried to pick as many off as she could. Where had they come from? Her first thought was that it was Agnes's fur, but they couldn't be. Beanie had never worn her pea coat to Cassandra's apartment. Was it possible she'd tossed it into the same pile as her pajamas, and the fur transferred? Had the fur come from someone else's coat? Regardless, she would have to spend some time looking for the lint roller.

She reached into her purse for headphones, but her fingers found a small stiff card instead. She pulled it out and saw that it was Cassandra's. The shop was called Seda and the Swan. "Vintage Goods and Curiosities," the card said. The address wasn't too far out of Beanie's way, close to the library and a café that served the best Boston Crème donut in the city.

The shop was on the ground floor of an old brick building, apartments or offices on the floors above. The large front window was painted with the name of the shop and a large swan that appeared to have one body but two heads, one black and one white, the necks twisted together. The design was astonishing; Beanie could have stood there in front of it for hours as if she were in a museum. She wondered if Cassandra had designed it herself. When she pushed the door open, a bell tinkled above her.

"Welcome," a young woman said with a hint of an eastern European accent. "Can I help you find something particular? Or are you just browsing?"

The woman was seated on a tall stool behind the counter. Her smooth, dark hair was parted down the middle, held out of her face with a thick pair of glasses.

"Is Cassandra here?" Beanie asked.

"I'm sorry, no. She's out. Would you like to make an appointment for a consultation?"

Beanie was curious what kind of consultations Cassandra gave, but she thought it might make more sense to ask her directly instead of a stranger.

"Oh, no that's okay. I live in the same building as Cassandra. I just thought I would say hello if she was here."

"You must be Bianca, then?"

Beanie was surprised Cassandra had talked about her. She suddenly felt awkward and nervous. How much did this woman know?

"Cassandra told me that you might be in. She left you a tin of her special tea blend. I'm Anna."

"Beanie. Well, Bianca, but everyone calls me Beanie."

"Nice to meet you Beanie. Is this your first time in the shop?"

"It is. I've lived above Cassandra for close to a year? But we're only just really getting to know each other. What is all this stuff?"

Beanie looked around. On the left wall were floor-to-ceiling shelves overflowing with books. She picked up one bound in green fabric, Sacred Botanicals by Arianna Blackwell embossed onto the front in gold. She slipped it open to a random page and found helpful tips for growing hyssop (hyssopus officinalis), and how to use it as an antiseptic, cough reliever, and expectorant.

"Well, most of the items Cassandra acquires from estate sales or flea markets and, if they need it, she revitalizes them so that they can have a second or third or fiftieth life. And then the rest are bits and bobs that Cassandra loves and wants to share with the world. Like the plants. And her tea. It's a very special blend. I don't think you can get it anywhere else."

Beanie reserved the book and walked toward the counter elaborately carved mortar and pestles, brass candelabras fitted with tapered black candles, and lush green plants that reminded her of the ones in Cassandra’s apartment. The collection didn’t seem organized with any sort of system, and yet there was a completeness to the overall effect.

"A lot of this stuff is really unique," Beanie said as she touched the wing of a taxidermied crow that sat on the counter. "It almost feels, like, magical. Doesn't it?"

Beanie searched her face, but if Anna read anything deeper in Beanie's choice of words, she didn't show it.

"Yes, Cassandra really has an eye for very special items. That crow is rumored to have belonged to Queen Victoria. Please take your time and look around."

Beanie immediately pulled her hand off the bird. Before she could apologize, Beanie saw a familiar pair of eyes peering out at her from beneath an intricate footstool. "Is that Agnes?"

At the sound of her name, the cat leaped out from her hiding spot and onto the counter.

"Yes," Anna said. "Agnes is often around. But it is unusual for her to be so friendly."

"We've been getting to know each other, too."

Agnes lifted her butt and tail each time Beanie ran her hand down the cat's spine.

"If you'll give me just a moment, I'll run out back and get the tea."

While she waited, Beanie continued to pet Agnes. She started softly talking to the cat, first about the fur on her coat, then about her day, about how annoying her coworkers had been, about how incompetent her boss was.

"I practically carry that place. And no one ever bothers to say thank you. You'd think they could throw me a raise here or there."Agnes started rubbing her head against Beanie's chest.

"This isn't exactly helpful in solving my problems."

"Sorry?" Anna said as she emerged through the purple velvet curtain that separated the main shop from whatever was behind it.

"Oh, nothing," Beanie said. "I was just talking to Agnes."

"She's a good listener."

Beanie started to laugh, but from the look on her face, Anna wasn't joking. She handed Beanie a brown paper bag that contained two tins of Cassandra's special tea blend. Agnes jumped down from the counter and disappeared between a wrought iron lamp shaped like a rearing horse and a rack of woolen fisherman sweaters.

"On the house," Anna said.

"If you see her before I do, please tell her I said thank you."

"Of course. Nice to meet you."

"You too. Thank you for your help."

"I’m sure we’ll see each other again," Anna said.

Beanie had a feeling that she was right. As she pushed the door open, she whispered goodbye to Agnes before stepping back out onto the street.

#

Friday morning, Beanie had an email from human resources. At some point she'd heard that the recommended day to fire people was Friday. Had someone complained about her? She always tried to come across as kind and professional in her emails, even when the recipient didn't deserve it. But her fears were assuaged the moment she stepped into the HR office.

"Thank you for meeting with us today," Laura said. She was the head of HR. "We would like to discuss an opportunity with you."

"An opportunity?" Beanie asked. If anyone would paint getting fired as an "opportunity for growth" or something like that, it was a human resources professional.

"Martin Laskey, who as you know, has been overseeing your group for some time, turned in his resignation letter yesterday."

Beanie was shocked. Martin seemed to love his job. He sat around doing almost nothing while the staff handled everything. His only daily responsibilities seemed to be going to lunch on the company's dime and stealing ideas from other people and passing them off as his own.

"And," Laura continued. "He recommended you to take his place." 

Before that moment, Beanie would have bet every dollar she had that Martin didn't even know what her name was. He called every woman in the office "madam." using a jaunty faux-French accent to make it seem like a quirky choice rather than lazy necessity. Maybe he'd just chosen someone at random, or her name was close to the beginning of the alphabet. But however Martin had landed on her, she was ready to run with it.

The new position came with the burden of her underperforming coworkers becoming her responsibility, but that was a small price to pay for her own office, a significant pay increase, and her own company card. 

"Is that something you'd be interested in?" Laura asked after she'd explained everything the new position would entail.

"Absolutely," Beanie said. She could see visions of a completely different office, one where people were happy and pleasant to each other. A place where everyone put their own mugs in the dishwasher, replaced the paper in the printer, and knew when a time-wasting meeting could just be an email.

Beanie experienced the world differently as she walked home. If her life was a musical, this would be the number where she swung around post of the "No Parking" sign and took a staircase of clouds into the sky. She hummed a little to herself as she passed the shops and restaurants, and then the blocks of townhouses and apartment buildings as she got closer to her own. She was halfway up the stairs to the second floor when she thought better of it, turned around, and knocked on Cassandra's door.

"Bianca! How wonderful to see you looking so buoyant. Please come in."

Cassandra's curls were piled on top of her head like a halo. She looked pleasantly relaxed, like maybe she had recently been meditating or napping.

"I don't mean to take up too much of your time, but I wanted to come by and thank you."

"Oh, yes, Anna told me you were in the shop yesterday. I hope you're enjoying the tea."

"Thank you, yes, the tea is wonderful. And your store is amazing. It's like walking into a fairytale. But that's not why I'm here."

"Oh. Do you need something?"

Cassandra poured a mug of tea and handed one to Beanie.

"I need to ask you something."

"By all means," Cassandra said.

Beanie took a sip of her tea.

"Do you know what happened to me at work today?"

"Is that the question?"

"No. Well, that's part of the question. Do you?"

"Of course not. How could I? What happened to you at work?"

"I got a promotion today."

"Congratulations!" Cassandra said. She put down her tea and opened one of the cabinets. "That calls for more than tea."

"Thank you, yeah, I am really excited," Beanie said. "But I thought you might have had something to do with it maybe."

"Oh, did you list me as a reference? They didn't call."

Cassandra poured two shots of a thick brown liquid. She handed one to Beanie.

"No, I actually didn't even apply for it. I wondered if maybe you had, I don't know, influenced someone or something, the universe, I don't know, into making this happen for me."

"I think you're overestimating my abilities," Cassandra said. "I can refinish furniture and I can make a great cup of tea. But I cannot pull a promotion from a hat."

"I just thought..." Beanie said as she took the shot glass from Cassandra. "Well, honestly, I don't know what I thought."

"I think you're underestimating yourself. You're the reason you got that promotion. Na zdravi!"

They clinked their glasses together and drank down the liquor. It tasted like pine trees and ginger and infused Beanie with warmth and satisfaction. She'd taken many shots with her friends and none of them had ever made her feel so fortified.

"That's very good."

"Becherovka," Cassandra said. "From my country. It's very good for celebrating. At my age, I should probably only have one, but I can pour you another if you want?"

"I'm seriously tempted," Beanie said. "But I'm meeting some friends for dinner. To celebrate. I should probably get going."

Cassandra congratulated Beanie again, and after she reiterated her gratefulness, Beanie left and headed for the bar. She wasn't sure whether or not she believed Cassandra. There was something about her that made it feel completely plausible that she had made sure the stalker could never stalk again, had orchestrated Beanie's promotion. She seemed to vibrate at a different frequency than other people. But was she subscribing some kind of mysticism to Cassandra simply because she was an older woman who lived alone with a cat? Because she had an interesting shop and drank loose-leaf tea? 

It wasn't as if Cassandra had a cauldron or a crystal ball in the middle of her kitchen. Everything that happened since Beanie had met Cassandra could easily be explained away as a coincidence, and even that sounded too dramatic. Everything that happened was a boring, normal experience that could apply to anyone on any given day. Especially the promotion, which was a surprise, but which Beanie knew she had long deserved. And yet, there was something about that explanation that left Beanie feeling unsettled and incomplete.

"Hey baby!" a man yelled from across the street as Beanie walked by. "Where you headed? You want some company?"

Beanie looked over at the man. He was leaning in the doorframe of a pizza shop. She instantly wished she hadn't. The movement of her head seemed to fuel him.

"You like what you see?" the man yelled, as he took a couple steps forward onto the sidewalk and stretched his arms out to the side. 

Beanie normally ignored catcallers, pretended that she couldn't hear them and walked on like nothing happened. But this time she stopped and turned toward him. Maybe it was her new position or maybe it was the Becherovka.

"Eat dirt, asshole!" she yelled.

Immediately the man stepped off the lip of the sidewalk. His eyes were on Beanie, so the change in level caught him by surprise. He let out a strangled yelp and reached out for a nearby trash bin in an effort to keep his balance. But instead of recovering his footing, the whole bin went down with him and he landed in a puddle at the edge of the road. The contents of the bin emptied out around him, decorating the street with a grease-stained pizza box, wadded up fast food bags, and a dead poinsettia which had come free from its pot.

Beanie chuckled to herself and continued on, leaving the man lying on the pavement covered in soil. Just before she got to the corner, a gray smudge caught her attention just as it disappeared into the bushes.