The last vestiges of summer hung in the air as the sun burned off a mid-morning fog. Gates Thatcher stood in Rabbit Hash General Store’s doorway, staring across the road at a small fairy-tale looking cottage. Embellished with rows of lush green boxwoods and flowering plants of every color, a modest wood sign planted among the joyous garden was hidden. Scanning the landscape, Gates picked out the sign with no problems. His deep blue eyes outlining the elegant letters spelling, Babington D.D.S. He turned a small amethyst crystal over in his pocket, shifting to lean on the doorframe.
Rabbit Hash wasn’t on his radar until a few days ago. He’d been living in Mentone, Alabama, a comfortable existence, as the guardian of four wolf Shifters who lost their parents in the Great Quake of 2003. Living atop Lookout Mountain, Gates and his Shifters had settled into a quiet existence—one he both loved and loathed. He longed to be back in the game of protecting others, which contradicted the serenity and peace that came with being the guardian of young magical creatures. Three days ago, when purple and teal crystal bubbles appeared on his doorstep, and the Goddess popped out in her mom jeans, t-shirt and a chunky argyle sweater, he knew he was facing one of the toughest decisions of his immortal life.
“What about the boys?” Gates couldn’t ignore his love of the pack of wolf Shifters.
“I can reassign them.” Rather than a booming voice, the Goddess spoke in a soft and guiding tone.
“But I can’t do that to them. They’ve been through too much. I’m sorry, my Goddess, I’ll have to decline.” He bowed his head, hoping the Goddess wouldn’t zap him for declining.
“Decline?” The Goddess strode to his side. Gates Thatcher was one of her favorites. Dedicated and hardworking, smart and intuitive, he reminded her of the true purpose of mystic angels—to serve those who needed them most, to right wrongs, prevent catastrophes, and avenge atrocities. As magical beings caught somewhere between existing and not, mystic angels walked among the living, spoke with the dead, never aged, and protected the world—often from itself. It wasn’t an easy eternity. The one thing they rarely ever did was decline the Goddess.
“But Gates, you can’t decline. I chose you for this assignment. You must go.” A smile crawled across her face, and she crossed her arms. “I know what’s best for you, Gates.”
“I imagine you do.” He admitted.
“Why not take that pack of wolves with you?” She shrugged, “they could use a change of scenery.”
Gates’ eyes widened, and his eyebrows rose with them. “Sort of like a vacation, huh? It’s a perfect idea.”
“Perfection is what I do best,” she flashed a persuasive look in his direction.
A rush of joy and excitement flooded his body, and almost sent him forward to hug his boss—a temptation he squashed before his feet moved an inch. “Thank you.”
Handing him a stack of files, the Goddess continued, “My sweet, precious Gates, I’m glad we straightened this out. Our little town of Rabbit Hash has a messy and tangled snag. Someone there needs to be protected. Someone needs to achieve their true purpose, and someone needs to be sent to Salem.”
“Vague, as always. Let me see if I understand the assignment. I’ve got to protect someone, guide someone, and ship someone off to the pokey in Salem.” Gate’s snark made her chuckle.
“Right!”
“And you’ve given me a bunch of files full of what?” he thumbed through the papers. “Not a lot here, but names, addresses, family trees. General life sketches and a glimpse of personalities, and a history of Rabbit Hash. Who was my researcher this time?”
“It’s all there, Gates. Let me know how it goes.” The Goddess disappeared in her crystal bubbles as quickly as she had arrived, leaving Gates to uproot the wolf Shifters, move to Kentucky and investigate a potential rip in the fabric of someone’s magical balance.
Now, standing in the middle of the town with a tear, Gates breathed in the trouble, allowing whatever was rotten in Rabbit Hash to sink into his bloodstream. A tingling sensation accompanied the literal ‘taking in’ of the energy, creating a brief, woozy feeling. This inhale was different. He exhaled, then breathed in deeper. More than woozy, Gates felt dizzy, a mix of joy and power—like the over exuberance of a raucous crowd tittering on the edge of something. He fumbled with the amethyst crystal in his pocket, squeezing the calming power from it.
The overreaction had to be, in his estimation, coming from an unworldly powerful source. The crystal mine. Yes, he knew it was there. Gates wasn’t sure where it was, but the surging impact was close. He felt its joy and its lure. He could sense the undulating magic in the air, like an aphrodisiac, thick and sultry. Such a powerful source was capable of driving witches and warlocks mad. Wells of such influential power were the reason cracks happened, and where the darkness seeps into a picturesque, quaint town. Rabbit Hash and its inhabitants would always be on the precipice, in his opinion, because they’d never be able to get away from the influence of the mine that didn’t exist.
“Dad, dad, dad,” three stair-stepped boys ran to his side.
“Slow down, boys.” Gates held out his hand to stop the train of pure energy.
“Fin said we’re staying here.” Jasper, the youngest, gave a groaning sound to his disappointment.
“He did, did he?” Looking over his shoulder into the old General Store at Fin, he grinned. “Well, Fin is a smart guy. I’d say you should listen to your oldest brother.”
“Ugh,” Jasper spat.
“Really,” Wilkes, the next-to-youngest, kicked at a non-existent rock.
“I don’t think I like it here.” Miles spoke direct and calm, checking his milky, chocolate tuft of short hair with his hands. “Nope, I don’t.”
“Well, boys, we’re here. For now.” Gates stepped forward on the porch and looked both ways down the main stretch of Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. “I’ve got a good feeling about this little town.”
“Can I at least get a snack in this store? They got some pretty interesting stuff, like weird candy I’ve never seen before.” Jasper looked up at Gates with a guilty smile.
Chuckling, Gates scrubbed his golden tinted hair. “You can pick something out, but we’re going to get the tooth you knocked loose last night seen about. So, no eating until after you’ve seen Dr. Babington.”
“Why are we here? Is it whatever’s across the street, in that cottage?” Fin joined his family on the porch, his tender tone laced with worry. He mirrored his father in stature and size, but his manner was unsure.
“Maybe, yes.” Gates gazed across to the cottage, again.
A rumbling thunderous sound turned every Thatcher's head south toward the big elbow—a curve in the road where Main Street disappears and begins its winding dance with the Ohio River. A cacophony of clangs and pops followed until a large, dark green delivery truck made its way through the elbow and headed straight toward them.
“Is that a Colossus.com delivery truck?” Wilkes looked at his father.
“It sure looks like one, doesn’t it?” Gates said, never glancing away from his focus on the truck.
“Well, at least we can order stuff from Colossus.com out here in the middle of nowhere.” Fin rested his hands in his jeans pockets and chuckled.
“That’s a relief.” Jasper rolled his eyes.
“Hey now, boys. Everyone calm down with the sarcasm.” Gates’ frustration shone in his creased brow as the delivery truck came to a stop in front of the General Store.
“Why don’t you all hurry along inside and grab one thing each. We’ll need to be on our way to Dr. Babington’s office soon.”
“Yeah, my tooth doesn’t hurt right now so I’m going to get some candy.” The small boy giggled and took off toward the door, leading the pack of Thatcher boys back into the General Store. They trooped through the rows full of items from all walks of life—human, magical, and otherwise. Gates lingered in the doorway on the porch, his attention split between his boys and the delivery truck.
The big green oversized cargo van sat running, as the delivery guy jumped from his seat to the back compartment, rocking the entire vehicle back and forth as he rummaged through the stash of packages. In less than a minute, he jumped out of the back door carrying two extra-large boxes that overwhelmed him. Bounding up the General Store porch steps, the weight and girth of his load did not seem to faze him.
“Good afternoon, sir.” The delivery guy said with joy. “It’s a scorcher out here today, right?”
“Afternoon to you, too. It is pretty hot.” Gates agreed. “Would you like a hand with those packages?”
Stopping even with Gates at the General Store’s double-wide glass doors, the delivery guy lowered the two boxes to the wood plank floor. “That’s mighty kind of you, sir. But this is as far as I go with these deliveries, just leave ‘em right here on the porch.” His smile widened. “I could carry ‘em wherever, anyway. No trouble at all for me.”
“I have no doubt you could.” Gates paused when he saw the guy’s eyes flash from gold to blue in a blink. Checking out the name tag on the man’s dark green uniform, Gates read the word, ‘Guy’ and cleared his throat, allowing the awkward silence to hang in the air for a moment too long.
“Uh… I’m Gates,” he held out his hand as always, “Gates Thatcher. I’m… I mean, we’re new to Rabbit Hash. And you are, Guy, the delivery…. guy.”
Guy’s smile never wavered as he shook Gates’ hand, “Correct. I was born for this job.”
“Again, I have no doubt.” Gates nodded in agreement.
“Well, Gates Thatcher, welcome to town.” Guy leaned in and lowered his voice, tapping his temple with his index finger, “I repeat everyone’s name at least twice in a conversation, so I can remember.”
“Clever. And most likely good for business.” Gates took a step back to regain some personal space.
“Exactly, but unnecessary. Business is booming. I come through here every day. Sometimes twice a day. So, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Really? That’s interesting. I know everyone loves to shop online now, but I wouldn’t imagine you have enough people out this way to make it worth two trips a day?” Gates inquired.
“No. It’s just a couple of primary stops. The General Store, Dr. Babington, Granny Franny’s and a few other random ones.” Guy stopped himself short.
Detecting the recoil in conversation, Gates looked across the street to the cottage. “Makes sense, if you think about it. I mean, everyone from around here has to shop in this one store, right?”
“Yeah. But, actually no. There’s an Ogre’s Supermarket a few miles up the river. That’s where I do most of my shopping.” Guy backtracked again. “I mean, yeah, I guess if you don’t want to travel out of Rabbit Hash, this place is all you got. Well, besides Colossus.com.”
“Right. Good to know we have options.” Gates chuckled. “I better get in there before my boys buy everything they’ve got. I’m sure they’ll need to unpack these boxes and restock after we get finished shopping.”
“Well, enjoy, Gates Thatcher. I’ll get on over across the road to my next stop.” Guy’s smile widened again. “Be good. I’ll see ya around.”
Gates watched Guy, the delivery guy, board his cargo van once again and jump out of the backside with a large satchel stuffed full of lots of tiny boxes. He threw the cloth container over his shoulder and leapt up the path to the enchanting cottage. When he disappeared through the front door, Gates turned and joined his boys in the General Store.
“You’re not from around here, are ya?” The small and slender woman behind the General Store counter spoke with a slow drawl and thick accent, so distinct Gates was sure he’d heard it before. He was on the lookout for any sign of trouble. Sometimes the mystic side of his angel duties worked overtime, and not in a good way. He reigned in his senses.
“No ma’am. We’re not, but I would guess you are from around these parts.” A grin played at the corners of his mouth, spread across his close-shaven, bearded face all the way to his deep blue eyes.
“Born and bred, right here in Rabbit Hash,” she matched his playful expression.
“You might be just the person I need.” Gates rested his elbow on the glass case that held a scrumptious selection of baked goods and fudge, to be eye level with the striking woman. “We’re looking for a place to stay for a few days, maybe longer. Something closer to town, but with room to spread out.”
“Hmm,” she scanned the store full of Thatcher boys milling up and down the aisles in search of treasure. “I suspect so.”
“Can you help us out?” He followed her gaze around the store, watching his sons. “They’re really good kids. We prefer to be on the edge of the woods.”
“Shifters,” she whispered. “But you ain’t one. That’s curious.”
“That’s correct. My boys are indeed Shifters. Wolves, to be exact.” His pride hung on every syllable of the two small words, ‘my boys.’
“You is something,” she creased her eyes and tilted her head. “But I can’t seem to pin down just what you is.”
Gates scoffed, “no matter. I keep to myself. I just need room for my guys to get some exercise. You know of anything like that?”
“What’s your name?” She lifted her chin.
“Thatcher. Gates Thatcher. And you?”
“Vera. Vera Vaughn.”
“Well, very nice to make your acquaintance, Vera.” Gates straightened and stretched out his hand to shake hers.
She held onto his hand and turned it over to display his palm. Outlining the folds and wrinkles with a long skinny finger, she mumbled, “interesting,” and released him.
“You’ll need to call on Mayor Porter. He’s got an old place on the south end of town. A cabin with a lake, all tucked into a nice grove of big oak trees that back up to the mountain. I suspect it’ll suit you and your Shifters nicely.” She let a small laugh escape her throat.
“Thank you, Vera. How very kind.” Gates’ appreciation overshadowed his concern. He wasn’t sure if a reader, like Vera, could see eternity in the lines on his hand.
“You can find Porter right here on my front porch after work. I’ll make sure he knows you comin’ to see him ‘bout that old cabin.”
“I’ll be here. How much damage did my boys do?” Gates looked at the line of kids behind him; hands full of treats.
“This one’s on Vera. A welcome to our neck of the woods gift.” She grinned. “Rabbit Hash has a long and colorful past, Mr. Thatcher. If you ever wanna discuss, or your boys enjoy listenin’ to some rather large tales, you let me know. Seein’ as you like to dig stuff up. I saw it there in the lines on your palm.”
“I love history, and do my best to soak up as much of it as I can.” Gates glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “Can’t say I’ve passed that gift onto these guys, but I try.”
“You a gazer?” The wheels in Vera’s head were nearly visible.
A relieved sigh escaped through his nostrils. “No ma’am. Not me. I like to learn about the past, but I’ll gladly stay grounded right here in the present. I don’t have any desire to look into the future. Too complicated and distracting.”
“Hey dad,” Miles muttered. “Can I have one of those cupcakes in the case?”
“Which one do you want?” Vera didn’t give Gates time to disapprove.
“I’ll take that one.” Miles pointed to a large chocolate chocolate chip confection.
“Those are a real favorite ‘round here.” Vera smiled and handed the boy the oversized treat wrapped in brown paper. “Y’all enjoy yourselves.”
A chorus of ‘thank yous’ rang from the Thatcher Shifters.
“Much appreciation, Vera. I promise we’ll return the kindness.” Gates nodded toward the witch and led his boys to the door.
“I gotta feeling that promise will come in handy.” Vera chuckled.