A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

70 Days
Until the Store Closes

Pepper

One of the best things about having my soul eternally tethered to a seasonal holiday store was that I could eat anything I wanted. The bag of Skittles crinkled as I reached deep into my pocket and grabbed a couple before popping an orange one in my mouth as I stood in the center aisle.

The Dead of Night wasn't your typical Halloween store. Aside from the fact that it needed a human soul to operate, it wasn't just a place to buy costumes but an experience. People were always in awe as they walked through the doors-even the employees gaped at the decor the first time they entered-but they never asked any questions about how it got there. Plus, it was nice that I didn't have to put in all the manual labor to make it happen, unlike the weeks and weeks of work when I'd been in charge of the town's annual haunted house-magic was cool like that. Too bad I didn't really have any of my own.

In the moments before the first employee arrived, I took it all in. Holiday-appropriate music played quietly overhead. The scents of plastic and cinnamon swirled in the air. Most of the shelves were already filled, and all types of costumes, from seasonal favorites like zombies and witches to more elaborate things like kings and queens, hung in every aisle. Halloween was by far the superior holiday, and now I celebrated it full-time. Some people would likely argue that Christmas mornings were the best-but no way. On Christmas once the morning was over, everything kind of settled down. Whereas with Halloween, the anticipation rose from the moment you opened your eyes-waiting for the first glimmer of darkness that lasted well into the night. On Halloween, you could be anything you wanted-no matter how old you were, costumes were always appropriate and candy was handed out freely. What wasn't fun about a fun-size Milky Way? Nothing. That was what. And today was the first day to get ready for the holiday, which meant it was the first day in a long many I got to exist at all.

As far as curses were concerned, I considered myself pretty lucky.

Questions about all the adventures that awaited me spun through my head faster than an electric mixer. Which of our regular staff would come back this year? How long would it take for them to warm up to me? How much had Clover Creek changed since last year? I could hardly wait to find out the answers.

Being Keeper of the Store was never a dull moment.

A door in the back creaked open.

It was showtime.

Twenty minutes later, everyone had arrived, and the energy of opening day was palpable.

"Pepper! Why does Molly get to work the prosthetic and mask counter today and I'm on general cleanup?" Caleb, one of the other Dead of Night employees, whined, his tawny skin taking on a much more pinkish tone.

Even with all the pros of this job, listening to employee complaints was definitely on the list of cons, but it was better than the complaining I had to endure before I got stuck here-at least these complaints weren't directed toward me-so it also wasn't terrible.

"Well, what did Dewy say?" I popped a few more Skittles into my mouth-breakfast of champions. The chaos had already begun as staff rushed this way and that, trying to prepare the store for this season's grand opening.

"They said I have to do general cleanup."

"So then-"

"Can't you do something about it?"

This was the common misconception that came with being the Keeper of the Store. All the staff instinctively recognized me as upper management, but I really didn't have any say in scheduling-I didn't have much say in anything at all. "Look, I know it seems like you got the short end of the stick, but what if I told you we're getting a huge shipment today and someone is going to have to count and tag every scab, scar, and wart that comes into the place?" Being Keeper, however, did mean I knew everything about the store. Everything.

Caleb glanced at Molly, sitting on a stool behind the glass case of fake blood and vampire teeth-dressed as an angel, her pale cheeks painted with pink hearts, a halo perched on top of her red hair, and wings secured to her back with some elastic straps-and his thick dark eyebrows rose. "General cleanup sounds amazing."

"I agree." I winked. "A few for the road?" I offered him some Skittles, and he opened his hand while I poured a pile inside.

"Taste the rainbow," he said as he shoved them all in his face, straightened his giant clown bow tie, and scampered away.

Wearing costumes was highly encouraged, but even pieces of costumes with the signature Dead of Night polo and khakis were preferred to nothing Halloween related at all.

Caleb grabbed a broom and started sweeping. He was a good kid. Even if he didn't remember me. He'd been tentative the first day he walked into the Intro to Theater class I'd taught at Clover Creek High School-he shuffled his feet and stared at the ground the entire time he introduced himself-but that didn't last long. There were those kids whose only knowledge of "theater" was a bucket of popcorn and a reclining chair, but when they got on a real stage-even the small one we had in the classroom-they bloomed right before your eyes. That was Caleb. That was also five years ago. My stomach clenched.

That was the toughest part of this job-remembering people and things about them when I was nothing but a stranger to them. There were always the awkward moments when I "knew" something they didn't think I should. But it was especially hard when I wanted to celebrate their accomplishments with them.

Dewy-standing there behind the register dressed as a scarecrow-had been the manager of this store for the past three years. They weren't the kind of person who trusted easily, so it took them a couple of weeks to open up. Last year they confided in me that they and their partner were looking to adopt-they hadn't told anyone about it but me. I'd been dying to know what had happened on that front since then-if anything at all-but there was no way I could straight up ask. How could I possibly know something so personal when we hadn't ever "met" before? And from experience, I knew they weren't one to share personal things with people they didn't know. So I would have to take my time with them.

Then there were people like Molly who were new to the store, but not new to the town-so while she had no idea who I was, I remembered that last year her hair was blonde, not the fiery red it was today, and that she had the most obnoxious boyfriend-who made quite a scene in the store last year. Did she finally see what the rest of us saw in him? There wasn't a ring on her finger, so that was a good sign. And did she ever register for cosmetology school like she had wanted?

So many questions I still needed to find the answers to. It was all so exciting. Nearly ten months had passed since I'd seen any of these people. Or the sky.

Looking back at how it all went down, I couldn't help but wonder if the woman who'd duped me into this got the life she wanted or what took place exactly when she passed it on to me. All I knew was that as soon as I started fulfilling my Keeper duties for the first time, the last Keeper was nowhere to be found in Clover Creek. That's one thing they don't mention in the rules-the after. So if I did break this curse, what would happen to me? To the people who knew me before? How would they reconcile the time I'd been away? Did I want to subject them to that even if it were somehow possible?

Perhaps they were all better off. One less thing to worry themselves about. I was fine before, just as I was fine now. Maybe even better in some ways. I dumped a handful of Skittles into my mouth, the mixture of flavors dancing across my tongue. Caleb was really onto something.

"What do you think, boss?" Dewy came up from behind, rubbing their hand over their head. Last year their hair had been in twisted locs; this year it was cut short and colored teal blue.

"Not your boss." I shook my head, and Dewy laughed. "Still waiting for more teen costumes, but they never decide until the last minute anyway, so I think we're in pretty good shape."

"Prosthetics are looking a little thin." They gestured toward Molly.

"Shipment should be here before noon."

"Corporate said you were good." They adjusted their name tag with the title Store Manager clearly written across the top. My name tag had no title, just my name-Pepper White-not that it mattered. "I'm glad to have you around this year. It'll be nice to have the extra hands for once. New corporate initiative, is it?"

"Yep." My throat was a little thick-probably from all the Skittles. "So what's your story? Do you have any special Halloween plans this year?" Like taking a little one out for their first Halloween? It took everything in me to resist grabbing their arm and jumping up and down to find out if there was any news.

The corner of Dewy's lip tugged upward. Was that a good thing? Were they thinking about that first costume? "That's real kind of you to ask, but I know you have more important things to do than chitchat with me." They tipped their head toward some boxes that still needed to be unpacked. "We should get back to it."

"Sure," I said, but they were already walking away.

My watch chimed. It was almost opening time for us, which meant the entire town would also be opening up soon.

Everything-as chaotic as it seemed-was running on schedule. Shelves stocked, costumes hung, and the decor this year was excellent if I did say so myself.

Everyone was busy as I made my way through the back of the shop, grabbed my sweater from over one of the office chairs, and exited for the first time in 294 days.

The chilly fall breeze pushed my hair into my face as I stepped out the back door of the store. It always took me a moment to orient myself. Clover Creek wasn't a big town, but I never knew exactly where the store had set up shop for the year until leaving for the first time. A line of trees and wooden fence separated me from the back side of the town bank. To my left was Glazed & Confused, and to the right, across what had to be Apple Street, was Queenie's Burgers. Meaning we were in the old pharmacy. Did they relocate? Or did Dr. Fisher finally decide to retire?

Regardless, I was on the edge of downtown, so I wouldn't have to take out the "company car." Having the option was great even if I did hate driving it.

Another gust of wind sent the sugary scent from early morning apple fritters swirling around me, and I raised my arms, allowing the breeze to lift my magenta cardigan like wings. People probably thought being cursed was all bad, but one upside was that whenever I did finally get to go outside, it was always fall. My favorite season. The time for pumpkin everything, and hayrides around Baker's Farm, and hot apple cider. The time for colorful sweaters and boots and scarves. There was something special about fall. As if dormant magic woke up this time of year and it felt like anything was possible. Because for me, at least, it was.

Bing.

Bong.

Bing . . .

The clock started to ring. Time for me to get going. I only had seventy days to live my best life, and I couldn't wait to see what new experiences this year would hold.

70 Days
Until the Store Closes

Christina

The handle on the toilet jiggles as I try to flush. Great. Just great. Next it won't flush at all, and then we'll all have to use the porta potties that haven't been delivered yet for this year's event-or they might not show up, and we'll have to cancel the haunted house altogether.

As soon as I exit the bathroom, I jot down fix toilet handle on my ever-growing to-do list. Patty will fix it. She can fix anything. The school is lucky to have her on staff. There's absolutely zero need to freak out. I quickly write down confirm porta potty delivery-just in case.

I take a deep breath. Okay, you can do this. It's just another Halloween-only the most important event that everyone expects to be wowed by, used to raise money for the arts programs at the school, and if it fails, it will be all my fault-but absolutely zero pressure. Dread rolls around deep in my stomach as I take my first real glance around the staging room for what will be this year's main Halloween attraction in Clover Creek. A tradition that brings in people from towns near and far. My high schoolers are up to the challenge-they always are-just like they have been for the nineteen years this event has taken place. The real question is, Am I ready this year?

As a way to signal the start of the season, I hang a special black apron with skeleton bones printed on the front from a hook on the wall, which happens to be right next to Break a Leg painted in bright purple with a rudimentary-looking flower. Five petals, swirly middle, nothing fancy. Not sure how the two things go together-nor have I ever bought into the breaking-a-leg thing as good luck. The historical reason is relevant, but keeping the tradition of the phrase has never really sat right with me and has my thoughts spiraling faster than Alice down the rabbit hole. Generally speaking, breaking things is bad, and let's face it, the insurance policy the school offers isn't that great.

Darn it. I stop rubbing my arm-the spot with the scar-and focus back on the task at hand.

It's time to get the initial walk-through of the house started, but, of course, I have to circle back once I'm outside because I forgot my pen inside, and it'll be extremely difficult to write a list without it.