Piety didn’t always bring her dog to the store, for one thing the husky mutt could be overly enthusiastic about greeting people. Having close to 90 pounds of fur and pink tongue licking you suddenly; with an unholy interested in your hands, handbag or backpack and if they held anything edible, could be disconcerting. Then if the XM radio station, that the store played, put on anything with Native American music and a wolf howl, Finn felt it was his duty to join in. This could be unsettling to shoppers not used to his personality foibles. Piety would only take him on slow days with fewer customers. Today she didn’t care if all of Pulaski, New York, was in her store. She wanted her giant furry security blanket.

On the drive to her shop she stopped at dunking doughnuts for coffee and an egg flat bread sandwich. She took a bite discovered that it was cold and rubbery. She handed the sandwich back to her dog who happily scarfed the food with his tail wagging punctuating the loud chewing. Finnegan had no scruples concerning eating her castoffs, he gleefully took anything passed his way. They pulled onto the gravel parking spot behind the store and Finnigan circled anointing the planter with a splash of urine, the last remnants of mums were still alive. She sighed it sucked to be those mums right now.

As she unlocked and deactivated the alarm the Husky mutt reported to his bed in the corner under a picture of Piety’s aunt. The only memory Piety had of her Aunt Charity was as an older woman with grey hair. The picture on the wall was one of her Aunt when she was roughly 25 or 30 years old. Her hair defied gravity in the mass of curls and the oversized framed glasses . While the glasses had been fashionable for the time, they gave her aunt a slightly owlish appearance. Piety kissed her fingers and touched the glass, “I miss you.” She said quietly.

Piety returned to turning on lights making sure the open sign was faced out correctly on the door. The shop had that scent that all New Age stores had. Piety wished she could bottle the combined scent of all the smudge sticks, incense, resin, charcoal tabs and incense cones, she would name it “Newage” and sell it at all the hippy festivals and psychic fairs. She would make millions. First thing people did when they entered the store was inhale and say, “I love the way this place smells.” Yup there was the ticket to millions right there.

“Okay” she said to her dog, “Next task to keep me not thinking of dead Amish men is pulling out the catalogs for the Azure-green company and then making my US Games Tarot order."

Finnegan cocked and ear but otherwise had nothing to offer. He only cared about food and going for walks.

Could she go on the computer and do this? Sure, she had to just focus and not think, just do the work. Piety turned over the slick pages of the order catalog . Piety thought of her aunt and the sole employee Glenda, she had a slight smile thinking of them as  luddites in love with thumbing through catalogs and then placing orders with the phone affixed to the wall. The post-it notes of “Ohhh this new deck looks good” were still on some of the pages, except, she thought sadly, there would be no new post it notes. There would never be any new notes. Piety felt the prickle of tears, this was fucked up, Aunt Charity had been gone for a while. She still be over this bursting into tears shit, 6 months had passed she should be able to look at an old catalog...right? Then again, she saw a dead guy in her kitchen so, she might just be a bit off today. She shut the catalog with a slap and took a slow deep breath like her grief counselor had taught her. The dog gave an inquisitive whine. 

The bell above the door tinkled merrily announcing a customer, she looked up wondering who would be wanting to come to her shop this early in the morning. Piety saw an elderly lady wrapped against the morning chill in a plaid wool jacket bearing a tray with two cups of Dunkin Donuts coffee and a bag her gloved hand. Piety smiled she knew this person well.

Mrs. Peabody had been her aunts’ friend and loyal compadre for the many years. When Aunt Charity had been alive and was the original owner of the shop, Glenda Peabody was her sole employee and co-conspirator in passively aggressively annoying the preacher of the local Baptist church. The preacher, who liked to denounce the metaphysical shop as a “hot bed of satanic worship”. When it came to their ears that they were described as the Thelma and Louise of corrupt morality, they would dress as the two movie characters to hand out candy to trick or treaters at Halloween.

Mrs. Peabody never failed to check in on Piety at least twice a week and was also her back up for whenever she wanted a day off or if she wanted to go on vacation. The elderly woman with her iron grey hair in a bun at the nape of her neck always wore a skirt to her ankles, a t-shirt with a funny slogan or pagan theme or thick wool sweaters that she must order from an Irish catalog. She wore a perpetual squint since she refused to wear glasses unless she was driving or reading.

Piety asked with a grin, “What brings you here with the donuts and coffee?” she knew that the old woman never just appeared for no reason this early in the day. Glenda was a confirmed night owl. Finnigan lifted his head made a small woof sound and settled back to his nap. The woof was perfunctory and just him upholding his dog duty to woof at people coming through the door.

Mrs. Peabody pulled up a stool that had been in the corner of the shop, placing it in front of the checkout counter as she pulled off her gloves, stuffed them in her coat pockets. The coat then went on the coat rack behind the register. With all of that completed the older woman perched on her stool and said, “I brought donuts and coffee so we can chat.”

Piety gave her a quizzical look, “about?”

Mrs. Peabody replied in a tone that said “I know ,you know , that I know something isn’t right, don’t play dumb with me” accompanied by a look that made Piety glance away, “ I know something's not right. I can feel it in my bones.”

Piety, stalling for time, made a show of deciding between the two donuts in the bag. One was a Boston cream the other was a glazed chocolate, she went for the Boston cream. “I thought you felt arthritis in your bones?” she said biting into the donut enjoying the delicious Taste of sugar, grease and whatever the cream filling was in the middle. Most likely crack she decided. Upon reflection Piety thought should have went with the doughnuts, rather than the rubber egg sandwich when she had purchased earlier. 

Mrs. Peabody laughed, “You're not getting away from me that easily. There is something not quite right around here. I woke up this morning with you on my mind, knowing that there was just something very wrong. So, here I am asking you what is not right?

Piety sighed; she knew better than to try to evade these questions forever. Mrs. Peabody was a bloodhound when it came to the quote “something's not right feeling” Glenda Peabody had a knack for just knowing things. While Piety didn't buy into every aspect of the woo-woo metaphysical shop. God knew that when her aunt was alive all the rituals and witch meetings going on around her, it did little to convince Piety there was anything really to witchcraft. It’s not like she ever saw her aunt fly on a broom or cast a spell to make things levitate. All Piety did know that when it came to sussing out feelings and things that were just not fitting into the normal scheme of the universe nobody could beat out Mrs. Peabody, her gut feelings. They always seemed to be correct.

Piety sat on her own stool behind the register and sipping coffee. She would just have to get this over with, “Have you heard about that accident that happened last night? An Amish man was run off the road and he died.” She noted that her voice had a bit of a tremble to it.

At this is Peabody nodded, “I heard a bit about that, but not a lot of details. The police really saying much on the news. The people in line at the doughnut shop all were gossiping about it.”

Piety knew that when it came to dirt Peabody was the county hoover. “Well Glenda, it was I who found that poor man with his buggy in the ditch. His horse was in the middle of the road and his ass end almost torn off.”

Mrs. Peabody gasped and put down her coffee, “Oh my goodness and you're here working?! You should have called me! I would have opened today.”

Piety Shrugged, “I didn't want to sit at home and think about last night.” She was not going to talk about seeing ghosts.

Mrs. Peabody nodded, “I suppose I could see that. So, besides what happened last night. I felt something this morning. I woke straight up, and you were the first thing on my mind with a feeling of just dread.” The older woman had said it cautiously knowing that Piety was not comfortable with some aspects of the metaphysical world or psychic ability.

Piety didn't like where this was going. If she admitted that she had seen a ghost she knew that Glenda like a broken record would be all about the crystals, sage, spirit summoning and all the things that Glenda and her aunt did on a regular basis when her aunt was alive.

Piety did not want to be involved in all of that “witchy stuff” as she liked to think of it. Piety viewed the little shop as more as a gift store with a new age bend. As much as Piety tried to avoid the older woman’s eyes the steel grey blue, bored into Piety with eagle like intensity. The little wrinkles in the corners becoming crinklier as the elderly woman’s eyes continued to stare holes into her, the older woman said flatly, “I'm waiting.”

Piety snorted she should have known better to try to delay giving the whole of it. She said to Mrs. Peabody, “Okay fine! I think maybe last night was more stressful then I realized. I thought maybe… I had seen… well a ghost.”

Glenda Peabody sat back she said, “A ghost, or the ghost as in the man who died?”

Piety finished her last bite of donut as a further postponing tactic hoping to think of a way to not talk about this. Then Piety realized that she was in for a penny in for a pound. The old woman would not give up. Piety knew she would have to give the whole of the story or be badgered all day. So, she did. Piety told Glenda about how the dead man appeared in her kitchen asking if she could see him and requesting help. Piety embarrassed at how like in a bad movie she had slid down the cupboards and sat on the floor passed out until her dog started with enthusiastic licking. There she had told Glenda everything and maybe the woman would just let it lie.

Peabody sat for a moment and then she said in a matronly voice booking no disagreement “Well move out of the way girl! I need to get a shopping bag and will need to get a few things before we report to your house.”

Piety said quickly, hoping to derail any nonsense, “Oh no! No, we're not we're not doing all this magical witchy crap. I'm not my aunt, thank you very much, I probably just need a counselor and a stiff drink.” She made a chopping motion with her hand indicating she was not going to do any voodoo, woo woo or séances.

Peabody didn't listen, she made a snort worthy of a Clydesdale. This made Piety a little irritated to be dismissed by the older woman. Piety stood arms folded with “I said no” look on her face. This was an aspect of Glenda that Piety hated , she could be bossy and commanding.

Glenda Peabody didn’t notice or maybe didn’t care, as she bustled about picking up a sage bundle, one common recipe she recalled, recommended combining Pepper, Aloe, Musk, Vervain, and Saffron to be burned in a brazier. The old woman moved fast as her mind was clicking on how this would have to be done at Piety’s home, they would have no access to an Amish graveyard. Peabody determined she would have to, adapt the recipe by adding sweet grass or tobacco.

“Did you hear me?” Piety said tersely.

Glenda ignored her and the only response was one finger up. The universal “wait a minute” sign and she continued gathering items. As she hustled Piety wondered if she had been a mother hen with chicks in another life. Glenda almost clucked as she assembled things from the shelves. The older woman was slowing that meant she would announce some sort of ridiculous thing would occur.

The pronouncement came as a small bundle of tobacco went into Peabody’s voluminous purse since the store bag was full. “Close up, for the day it’s Wednesday it’s never a big sales day anyways. Time to go home.” The dog who had been sleeping on his bed popped up and knew the word home, he gave a short bark.

“I don’t suppose you recall I am an adult woman and the actual owner of this store Glenda? You can’t tell me what to do.”

Glenda gave a stern look that silenced Piety. It was a “don’t trifle with me child’, with a heavy dose of “I will start giving you hell at any moment” stare. “Tell me piety was Finnegan with you when you saw the dead Amish man?”

“Well, yes but…” Piety was cut off by Glenda

Next Glenda said in an even voice, “Finnegan come boy.”

It was Piety’s turn to snort. That husky mutt rarely obeyed any commands. Oh goddaman it! Her traitorous mutt for once in his life obeyed.

“Glenda you can take him for a walk if you like, but I am not wasting a day of work to have a séance with you.”

The dog rose and came to the older woman. Mrs. Peabody murmured and touched the dogs face covering his eyes. Finnigan sat his curved tail swishing lazily.

“Hey, what are you doing …” Piety asked wondering what the old woman was doing to her dog.

Pulling her hands away she held them as if she had a ball balanced in her palms. Glenda’s murmuring became louder and with a shout she said, “viderunt te mihi in exspiravit” and flung her hands wide and in not quite color a wavering image stood. It was of a man his head not on quite right and his lips moved soundlessly. The view was from someone who only stood to the height of the mid-thigh of Piety. The size of the dog.

“Is that him?” Peabody asked sarcastically and acidly. She didn’t care for Piety’s dismissive attitude.

Piety said not believing her eyes, “How, did…” the image wavered but held in the air.

“Yes or no dear.” Glenda said tersely with her hand on her ample hip.

“Yes, it is.” Piety replied contritely wondering if someone had spiked her doughnut with acid. How in the hell had that happened? “What the fuck Glenda how?”

Peabody suddenly sat heavily on the stool by the register, and her voice trembled a bit, “I really shouldn’t do that sort of thing without preparation and things to augment my power. I’m getting too old for that.” She waved her hand and image faded. “Now” She said clapping her hands making piety jump, “Turn the open sign over and let’s go. I will need a pot of black tea and time to prepare for this summoning.”