The Black Tourmaline

By Thom E. Booton

The Black Tourmaline is the first book of a trilogy in which Chapter one and two are non-fiction. Thereafter it morphs into a fictional tale that is laced with murder, mystery and a pitfall riddled romance. An enthusiastic fan of Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys in my youth, I would like to think I have taken the art of masking mysteries with hidden clues to a new level. If you look close enough, you just might find a number of such clues and discover who is actually behind the murders...and why. By the end of “The Black Tourmaline,” the stage will not only be set for more danger filled adventures but reveal that love’s fight for survival has only just begun. Should you enjoy the ride and be left with more questions than answers, please look for book two of the trilogy, “Clearly in The Dark,” in late 2024 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Release date: Jul 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781977268006

Book preview

Prologue

Although he has a full head of salt and pepper hair and is 52 years old, Adam Thurston is still booking roles in TV and Film and living the actor’s dream. Well, at least making enough to pay all of the bills and survive from audition to audition. It doesn’t hurt that he’s dark complected and has high cheek bones with deep set, hazel eyes that, more often than not, tend to change to the color of shirt he’s wearing. Adam also has a square jaw that no one has actually seen in a while, due to the well trimmed goatee he’s been sporting for the past 25 years. He is built pretty solid at 6 feet tall and 200 pounds, all of which, he says, is due to the many years of aerobic exercise and full court basketball games he played throughout his thirties and early forties.

Tattooed over his heart, Adam has a barbed wire shaped heart with a cross, protected by a shield, in the center of it. Just below the thorny heart, are the words, Laus ad Deus, which is Latin for, Praise to God.

Fairly early in his career a reporter at a film premiere, cast interview, once asked him, Adam, did you get the crucifix tattoo to show that you believe in God? Adam replied, No Sir, I did it to show how much I love him.

Although Adam’s life is by no means boring and can even be a little adventurous, given his career, as a general rule it tends to stay on an even keel. That all being said, this portion of Adam Thurston’s journey begins today, Saturday, November 18, 2017.

Chapter 1

Looks pretty nice out there this morning, Adam thought out loud, as he gazed out the second story window of his older brother’s guest bedroom. He was standing there leaning forward, with his arms crossed and elbows resting on the sill, completely mesmerized by the morning dew as it glistened across a seemingly endless pasture of two month old corn that ran gradually over the hill, away from the house. There was a second window several feet to his left with two, square maple night stands and a matching four poster, double bed sitting perfectly in the space between the two windows. The room was pale blue, with a much darker shade of the same blue on the wood trim and crown molding. There was a white wicker rocking chair in the corner directly behind Adam and a tall maple chest with a small TV on it in the corner, diagonally across from him. Man, what the beauty and serenity of this place can do for the soul, Adam muttered to himself, then let out a long, relaxed sigh.

The 5000 square foot, two-story brick house sat on the property line in the center of the back section of Michael Thurston’s, 1500 acre farm. The house butted up to the timberline at the base of Peter’s Mountain, just north of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The trees no longer had their leaves and from his vantage point, Adam could see the 300 yard wide, Susquehanna River as it curved gently around the tail of Peter’s mountain, making it’s way to the state capitol. This was his third trip up, this year, from his home in Charlotte, North Carolina. When the stress of money, dating and off the mark auditions finally caught up with him, he liked to take off to Pennsylvania to chill out and be with the people he loved most...his Family.

Adam’s usual routine was to arrive in Harrisburg on a Thursday evening, then play golf with a select group of old high school buddies on Friday and go to dinner with them and some of his, non-golfing, alumni friends that night.

Saturday mornings, Adam and his first cousin Rale, usually went to one of the half dozen Flea Markets that were an hour or less away from Harrisburg. Saturday afternoons, Adam would make the visitation rounds to as many of his other relatives as possible and hang out with either Rale or one of his brothers, on Saturday night.

On rare occasions, however, The Guys, his two brothers and a few cousins, made Saturday night their night out at the movies. Sunday mornings Adam usually played pick up basketball with Rale and a bunch of local regulars in a neighborhood, church gym. If everything went as planned, by Sunday evening, he would have gotten a visit in with his two brothers and most of his first cousins, whose feelings would have been hurt, had he not stopped by to see them while he was in town.

On Mondays, Adam played golf with his older brother Mike and a couple of his golf league buddies. Monday nights, he would hang out with his younger brother, Alexander and Mona, Al’s significant other of thirty years. Come Tuesday morning, Adam was on a jet on his way back home to Charlotte...completely…rested. Although he usually crashed at Al and Mona’s, they were in Vegas on vacation…so Mike’s it was.

As Adam stared out the window, enjoying the serenity of the field of sparkling diamonds, the song Dream Weaver broke the spell. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, slid his thumb across the face of it and put it up to his ear, Good morning Glory, what’s your story? Are you ready to face the mobs, slobs and nut case jobs at the market, Flea Man? spewed an energetic Adam, knowing it was his cousin, Rale Holidey. He and Rale, short for Raleigh, had been best friends since they were old enough to know what it meant to be best friends. They grew up spending countless hours together, playing Cowboys and Indians, Super Heroes, and Secret Agents. They read nearly every Marvel and Dell super hero comic book published and saw every James Bond, John Wayne and Elvis Presley movie that played at their favorite drive in theater. It came as no surprise that they often carried on their conversations in lyrical type verse, using nicknames, quips and wit from comics, cartoons, movies and television. There wasn’t anything they didn’t know about, or share with each other. In fact, the only thing that they never shared between themselves, was a cross word.

Don’t you think it’s gonna be a little too brisk out there, Chilly Willy, for us to be walking around those windy, country fair grounds looking for rare old rags and LP’s, Rale pleaded. Adam started collecting MAD magazines when he was in college but has been an avid reader of the history keeping, satirical rag, since he was twelve.

Nah, Adam said, it’s not that cold out there. My weather app said it’ll warm up quickly, once the sun rises up over the cow turd...uh, pastures next to the market. And why the worry, Furry? Half of the wares, stares and who cares are indoors, remember, Fearless Flea? Although the cousins usually alternated flea markets, this time they were going back to the one they went to on Adam’s last visit. The Big M Flea Market in Middletown. That was the trip the pair had dubbed, Some very Hoppin’ Shoppin.

Yeah, but the indoor fleas always have same old stuff and can be fairly freaky too, Quasimodo. I’ve seen toddlers scarier than Chucky, stray cats that mimic gargoyles, and man oh man, those dogs, Rale warned, Lots and lots of dogs in there, believe you me. I’m not talkin’ about our four legged, furry friends either, Woofy.

Adam knew his best friend was fairly accurate in his descriptions of some of the flea folk and probably wanted to stay home, especially after the major Wine-a-thon they had just 5 short hours ago, but he followed his gut and exclaimed, Well, I’m already up and anxious, McToasty. Don’t ask me why, but I’ve got a feeling we might find one of those European, Bill Nelson LP’s that you’ve been dying to add to your collection. It’ll make your sniffles and shivers, worth all the time and temp. He paused a second, then in his best ‘Eastwood’ said, So, I guess what I’m really trying to say here is…Do you feel lucky, Punk? Adam paused a moment, then continued, Well, do ya?

Alright, Harry Dirt, you got me covered. Just let me energize the photon cells and I’ll zip the Boogie Buggy over to your biggie bro’s, with all she’s got, Captain, he quipped in a fairly smooth Scottish accent.

You mean you’re not up yet, Dead Head? Well, Jerry G. ain’t proud, Mcloud. I can hear your silk sheets slipping all the way over here, Slick. Adam spouted teasingly, realizing his cousin was still in bed. He thought about it for moment, then continued. OK! I’ll give you thirty minutes to get here before I head out on my own. You better chop chop, Hop Singh, there’s something cooking, I can smell it. One Adam, out, he spouted and ended the call.

Adam went to the bathroom, hung his wet towels over the shower door, brushed his teeth, then headed down the stairs at the end of the hall and walked into the living room. On his right, which was the front of the house, was a huge picture window with the front door just to the right of it. Centered against the wall across from where he entered the room, was a blue denim and maple wood, country style sofa with matching end tables and coffee table. To Adam’s immediate left was the doorway into the kitchen. Sitting in front of the wall on his left, just past the doorway, were two denim, easy chairs with a small round table, also maple, in between them. He sat down on the closest of the two chairs, and eased his head back slowly, gradually closing his eyes.

Adam was very peacefully drifting off, when he felt someone suddenly grab him by the wrists and ankles and hold him down. His eyes flew open wide to find that he was chained, spread eagle on a bed. Adam raised his head, quickly looked around the large, smoke filled, dimly lit room, until he was turned all the way to his left. There, next to the bed, stood a seemingly faceless figure in a hooded robe, brandishing an iron fireplace poker, high over it’s head. The figure bellowed in a low, gravely voice, This is your last chance psycho, where’s Adam. What have you done with him?

Adam cried out, What do you mean, I’m right here. I’m Adam? What the hell is going...

Shut up! the hooded figure roared as it brought the poker down, fast and hard, toward Adam’s face.

Adam closed his eyes, turned away and screamed out in terror, NO! STOP!!! Then, instead of the sound of his skull being crushed, he heard a couple of quick car horn blasts, Beep! Beep!

Adam gasped, and his eyes flew open wide. Holy shit! What was the hell was that? he spewed as he jumped up, off the easy chair and looked frantically around the room. Damn, that sure felt real, he mumbled, shuddering at the thought, then looked around the room again, a little more carefully this time. Phew, I thought they went a little heavy on the Cajun spices on my blackened salmon last night, he thought to himself as he stood there, leaning against the door jamb to the kitchen, trying to catch his breath. Guess I need to start... Beeeeeeeeep!!! The car horn blast was longer, more insistent, this time.

Adam went to the hall closet, got one of his brother’s fleece pullover jackets and put it on. Then he ran back up to his bedroom, pulled a hand made, denim tote bag out of his suitcase, hung the strap over his shoulder and was down the stairs, out the door in seconds.

Wow, I thought I’d catch you, nose to the pane, McFlypaper, Rale quipped, as Adam climbed into his cousin’s, hunter green, 1991, Mazda, MX5 Miata. Unlike Adam, his cousin still had black hair, was clean shaven and though he wasn’t quite the pretty boy, model type that Adam was, Rale was a looker. The best friends were the same size, with Adam being barely a year older. The biggest difference in the two of them was that Rale found his soul mate early in life and Adam was still looking, which was perfect for his acting career.

Here, I brought you an A-One Bar, A man. Okay? Rale said, finding it hard to keep a straight face, as he continued, Since I’m running a little late this morning, I really don’t think we should stop to get something to eat.

Say what? Could you speak up a little, Mr. Rah Lee Holidey? This tiny recorder in my pocket doesn’t have a very good mike, Spike. Did I just hear you admit you were, LATE? Remind me again which one of us is the total, A plus, plus, personality here, Pal-o-mine. This overly active, unorganized, outside the box, creative brain of mine can’t seem to recall, Adam quipped, with a wide grin.

Well, if we had set a definite time, I guess I could possibly be considered late but since we didn’t, I’m not. I’m just here…and freezing. Shivering, he rubbed his hands together. If I catch a cold, I’m gonna sue you for Vitamin C and Zinc! Rale spewed, his teeth chattering.

Rale’s 26 year old convertible, not only had a tear in the rag top, but the rear window wouldn’t zip all the way closed and the heater hadn’t worked in years. At 50 degrees and breezy, the faster he drove, the colder it got.

No worries, Wimpy! I think I have just what you need, right here in the bottom of my treasure tote, Adam said, as he reached down into the old, worn out shoulder tote that Rale had given him years before on one of their earlier treasure hunts. He pulled out two vitamin bottles. Here, with these tabs, you can nip it in the bud, Bud Adam said and handed Rale a large bottle of 1000 mg, Vitamin C and a smaller bottle of 50 mg Zinc.

No thanks, Doc. I don’t have anything to chase it down with and if memory serves, taking those huge vitamin C tabs of yours, is like swallowing marbles coated in sand, Rale replied, made his, kid eating split pea soup, face and continued, Are you looking for anything special today? I mean, besides your old LP’s and MAD issues.

Hey, I got rid of all my mad issues when I divorced Candy, remember? Adam quipped and added, It’s issues of MAD, McSniffles and as a matter of fact, the last time I played my very rare edition of Madden NFL 09’ on Xbox, I counted 245 games on my Xbox display shelves.

Oh, so you’ve been collecting on the side, Clyde? Can’t let that slide, don’t cha know. Rale quipped, trying hard to look serious. They chuckled.

To answer your original question...yes, I’m going to start collecting Xbox video games, too. These are the ones I have so far. It’s a shorter list than the ones I don’t. Adam said as he pulled a one inch thick pile of index cards from his tote and tossed them in Rale’s lap. I haven’t had time to put the info into my computer yet, so I brought along the game files...so to speak, he muttered with a grin.

Rale flipped through a few of the cards, shook his head, then tossed them back to Adam. Are you kiddin’ me, Curly? In all the years I’ve known you, your chicken scratch handwriting is still just that, chicken scratch. I thought you graduated from college. What did you major in, doctor signatures? Rale teased.

Yeah, yeah, real funny. Just keep those peepers on the road, blind as a bat, Man, Adam said as he glanced out his window. Hey, isn’t that the flea market you just passed? he blurted out with a chuckle, then poured it on, I can see how you might have missed it though, Cuz. I mean, after all, the building is only the length of a football field, two stories tall in the middle and doesn’t have so much as a shrub to block it’s, less than desirable, bright blue color.

Well, Miss Daisy, why don’t you just hop in the back and make it official? The only thing worse than a back seat driver, is a back seat driver from out of state, Rale spouted, looking for a place to turn around.

What do you mean, McClean? You don’t have a back seat," Adam said, motioning over his shoulder.

Wow, don’t let much slide past you, do ya, Slick? Rale said, grinning as he made a U turn in the middle of the road, sped back to the entrance and whipped his little green bomb, into the parking lot.

Holy Cow! Adam spewed, Look how many people are already here. Let’s hope all of the fantastic finds haven’t been found yet or you’re nickname is gonna go from Flea Master to swatted disaster, in the blink of an eye, Spy.

Well, they don’t call me, Harry eyeball for the color of peepers, Jeepers. Rale quipped.

They laughed, then Adam suddenly stopped and looking a little awe stricken, he spouted, Hey, turn up here and let’s see if I can talk that cute little blonde over there by that Hummer, out of those skinny jeans, she’s making look so good. He pointed down the left side of the row.

Rale checked the blonde out as they slowly drove by and said, You’ve really got to get some glasses and a clue, Magoo. If she was naked, she might be an eight on a twenty scale. Besides that, I’m pretty sure the official list of the best places to meet the love of your life, doesn’t include a small town flea market, Lil’ Abner.

They laughed for a moment, then Rale asked, When are you gonna start dating again, anyway? It’s been what… three years now? He pulled the Miata into an empty space, 100 feet from the left end of the big blue building.

Nearly four, but who’s counting? Adam replied, with an innocent look on his face and said, Listen, It’s not that I’m picky or anything. I’m just looking for the right woman, that’s all. He was obviously making a feeble attempt to hide his lack of desire to date. They got out of the car, put everything valuable in the trunk and headed across the parking lot, to table after table of various wares.

Oh, I see. But how is the future Mrs. Thurston going to find you, if you don’t get out there and expose yourself to the world of single, foxy ladies? Rale asked.

Adam stopped walking for a moment, looked down at his crotch, shrugged his shoulders and acted like he was unzipping his pants as he muttered, Well, Okay, if you say so...but isn’t this type of hanging out, illegal?

Rale laughed and muttered, You know what I mean, Green Jeans, then shook his head and still grinning, added, Look at you. You’ve got movie star looks, a big heart, super cool job and a fun personality. With the exception of your transient lifestyle, that’s a great recipe. So what the heck is the problem?

There is no problem, Adam answered, defending himself as he walked past the hummer blonde, surprised at how right Rale was about the girl and his needing glasses. He muttered, Honestly though, I’m just tired of having sex in an, ad lib romance. There’s no real connection or depth to it. In this business, finding a playmate is easy, but finding love, that’s a whole ‘nother story, my friend.

Rale rolled his eyes. Agreed, but don’t you have to actually be looking for someone, to be able to find them? he asked grinning at Adam, who then replied, May not be able to tell, but I am looking...in my own, inconspicuous sort of way. They laugh out loud.

Seriously though, Cuz, Adam said, I have every bit of faith that the woman who will make my dreams come true, will somehow let me know that, the day we meet. They stopped and changing the subject, Adam asked his friend, Alright, Card Shark, do you want to head up the first row or down the last? His hands and voice trembling from the cold, as he pointed at the rows of baseball cards.

Well, Mr. Vibrato, first I think we should shimmy and shake ourselves inside and get some hot chocolate. I mean look, you can see my breath, Rale said and exhaled in Adam’s direction.

Yeah and it ain’t pretty, Adam said, waving his hand in front of his nose and making a sour face. PHEW! What is that smell, Le Pew? Did you have garlic for breakfast or just mistake your vampire repellent for mouthwash, again? he spouted with a clever grin.

Gee, you’re a one man riot, aren’t you, Sir Laughsalot? Maybe I should call Bellevue and have all of those guys in your head, locked up. With any luck, you’ll meet Mrs. Dreams-come-true in the loony bin. I bet you’d be irresistible in one of those ties-in-the-back jackets they hand out at the door, Rale said, as they turned down the beginning of the row nearest the building and on their way toward the doors of the huge, aluminum frame structure.

It was about the size of two large barns, joined end to end with a roof that started 15 feet above ground on both sides and was pitched high enough in the middle to house a second floor, restroom area.

Wow! Look over there, it’s the mother lode, Rale said, as he spied three large tables, that were completely covered with box after box of baseball cards.

Just keep on walking, Baby Ruth, Adam said, playfully towing Rale along by the strap on his tote.

A balding man with a long white beard, in coveralls and a Steelers T-shirt, was sitting on the tailgate of a pick up that was backed up to within a few of feet of the tables. He was leafing thru an old issue of Playboy. Deys tweny fi cens ‘piece, ‘cep fer da wuns in nah plasi bahs...‘em’s two buhs, the man muttered, his eyes fixed on his magazine.

I am sure, that out of those 14, some odd thousand baseball cards you have at home, he doesn’t have anything you need, Adam suggested, stepped between Rale and the tables and muttered, Besides, we’re freezing and need some muddy hot water covered in sewer foam, remember? He was shaking so much, his voice quivered.

With a bit of disappointment on his face, Rale replied, Yeah, you’re probably right. We can check em’ out later, on our way back to the car. Unable to keep from rubbernecking, he looked back over his shoulder and eyeballed the boxes like a junkie in need of a fix, as Adam towed him toward the main entrance.

Moments later, they wove their way thru all the people going into and coming out of the bright red, double doors, and entered the building. The inside of the flea market consisted of four aisles going up and down the length of the structure, intermittently dissected by rows of various size shops and booths. All of the vendors areas were separated by drywall, plywood, paneling, curtains, even chicken wire...anything that could be used as a partition. Adam and Rale took a left on the first aisle and headed directly for the third vendor on the right.

When they reached the counter of their favorite snacks and food vendor, the owner was behind it, facing the back wall and talking on his cell phone. Lagging a little behind, Rale caught up to his cousin and whispered, You ever notice that sign above the slushy machine, before? Adam looked up at it and shook his head, no. I would have never guessed Groucho’s real name was Sammy. I thought it would at least be something like, Anthony or Georgio, he said, still whispering. I thought that he...

How can I help you guys? Rale was interrupted by the guy behind the counter, who was now facing them with his cell phone still up to his ear. He was in his late twenties, medium height and build, with short black curly hair, a full beard and ear lobe plugs the size of a nickel.

Where’s Grouch...uh, Sammy, today? Adam asked, as he grabbed a pack of spearmint gum off the rack and tossed it on the counter.

He’s no longer with us, the young man replied, a slight frown on his face. Oh...he doesn’t work here anymore. Did he retire or something? Adam inquired.

No, I mean he died. Been about three months now. It was so…unexpected. He was a picture of health. the young man stammered with sorrow in his eyes.

I’m so sorry, I had no idea, Adam apologized, took a deep breath and asked, Are you his son?

No, Sir, I’m his nephew, Anthony, the vendor replied. The cousins looked at each other, halfway smiling. He didn’t have any kids. Momma let him work here on weekends because he was lonely and liked helping people, Anthony added, then scanned the gum on the counter and politely asked, Will that be all, Sir?

Oh, I almost forgot. I’d also like two chicken biscuits and a couple of Yoohoos, please, Adam answered. The young man turned around to a tall cooler behind him and opened the door to get the drinks.

He appeared to be a picture of health every time we ever saw him. Do you mind if I ask how he passed? Adam inquired, a bit sheepishly.

The young man thought about it for a moment, then replied, Strange you should ask. No one seems to know. They did an autopsy and every test known to man, but the doctor’s best guess...based on the look on his face when they found him... he stopped abruptly, then took a deep breath and continued, Uncle Sammy was literally scared to death! And judging by the photographs they took when they found him, I’d have to agree with them.

Anthony went to a warming case and retrieved two chicken biscuits. Then he got a couple of Yoohoos out of a cooler, bagged them with the biscuits, placed the bags on the counter and handed Adam a pack of spearmint gum.

Did he die, here? Rale asked in a quiet voice.

No! They told us a Detective found his body on the floor in a hallway that led from the kitchen to the garage. Wouldn’t say why he was there. Anthony replied, stood there for a moment, then quietly implored, Look, if you guys don’t mind, I don’t wanna talk about Uncle Sammy anymore, his eyes glazing over.

I’m so sorry I brought it up…You could tell he really enjoy being around people, though, Adam apologized.

Anthony halfway smiled and said, Yes...he sure did. Thank you for your kind words, Sir. That will be $9.52

When did you put up the sign? Rale asked looking up.

We put it up the day after he died. He never liked the American nickname we gave him. We tried to get him to put it on the wall for years but he refused to let us. He was very proud...and stubborn, Anthony replied.

Adam smiled, handed him a twenty and said, Here you go. Anthony took the bill and opened the cash register. What did you mean, his American nickname? His given name was Samuel, wasn’t it?" Adam asked.

Anthony chuckled a little. Oh, no. Sammy was what we use to call him when we wanted to pick on him. His given name was Salmoni. He was half Greek and half Italian. He had a different Papa than my Momma.

Well, that would certainly explain the resemblance between your uncle and Groucho Marx. Adam muttered with a smile.

Anthony teared up again and with a smile on his face, he explained, He always got a big kick out of people telling him he looked just like Groucho. That’s why he always wore the same outfit to the shop. Uncle Sammy had three complete sets of Groucho clothes and glasses. An elderly couple made their way up to the counter. Thank you gentlemen, Anthony said, as he handed Adam his change, for remembering my uncle, so fondly.

The cousins nodded and were turning to go, when Adam suddenly stopped and asked, Oh, I almost forgot. Do you know of any shops in here that sell incense?

Anthony smiled and answered, Yes, go over to the last aisle and take a left. It’s about half way up on your right. It’s called, uh...Something or another, Notions, he nodded toward the aisle and turned his attention to the customers.

Thanks, Adam said as he handed Rale one of the paper bags and the pack of gum, then started down the aisle, to the next intersecting row.

Oh, you’re subtle, Slick, real subtle, Rale said, with a slight grin, then asked his friend, The old breath is really that bad, huh? Adam nodded an emphatic, yes, his eyes open wide, in agreement. Rale looked sideways at Adam for a moment, then asked, Hey, you’re not planning to burn incense in my ride, are you? I like that old car smell. Besides that, it’s a smoke free environment. Adam was so caught up in the colorful wares and vendors, that he didn’t seem to hear word of what Rale had just said. Testing, one two! One Adam Thirteen, One Adam Thirteen, there is a thunder struck zoner loose in the Big M flea market? Rale reached over and tapped lightly on Adams head.

Huh...Oh, Adam snapped back to reality and quipped, As old as that mean, green, boogie machine of yours is, I’m pretty sure it’s way too flammable to be anywhere near something hot, much less burning. You don’t actually think that missing clip in the fuse panel of your car is the real reason your cigarette lighter hasn’t worked in years, do you? He looked back at his cousin and winked, as they turned left on the first row that led to the last aisle on the other side of the building. Anyway, the other day I was reading that Frankincense has been found to be one of the most relaxing of all the scents, to the senses, he said with a chuckle and added, I want to use it while I’m meditating. Sometimes, the way I stretch and twist in my yoga positions, I get gas. They turned left, up the aisle toward their destination.

Enough said, already, Rale blurted out, then waved his hand in front of his nose and acted like he was choking, TMI man, TMI. Then all of a sudden, he froze, and without moving anything but his lips, quietly whispered, Hey, I think this is the place Anthony was talking about. Looks a little spooky to me. Rale could see a row of shelves stocked with statues and figurines in the shape of dragons, skulls and gargoyles, just inside the door. The shelves below them had a wide variety of bongs, hookahs, glass pipes and Zig Zag rolling papers..

So, why are we whispering? Adam whispered, with a perplexed look on his face..

Are you sure you want to go in there? You know what people are gonna think we’re going in there for, don’t you? Rale whispered as he held his fingers to his mouth like he was smoking a joint.

Oh, I seriously doubt it, Dick Tracy. Not after that interview I did in ‘High Times,’ last year. Everybody, not only knows that I partake in the smoking of herb, but that I also prefer a pipe or bong, to rolling papers. Adam continued in a whisper. Then he went up to Rale, grabbed him by his tote shoulder strap and pulled him into the shop.

Chapter 2

It sure smells good in here, Rale commented, as they walked into the shop, but I just can’t seem to put my finger on the scent.

It’s called essence of head shop, Dr. Nose. Adam quipped as he sniffed around like he was a dog looking for a bone. Three of the walls of the shop were covered with black light posters of several of the early rockers like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jim Morrison. On the wall beneath the posters, hanging on racks, were hand made, beaded Indian clothes and a wide variety of tie dye T shirts, with funny and social commentary on them. The first display case they came upon had top hats, capes, magic wands and a number of tricks with assorted props, in it.

Oh my God, they stuffed Fluffy, Adam cried, feigning horror as he pointed at a very real looking, black and white, stuffed rabbit, sitting on the end of a display case, staring silently back at them.

And here, all this time I thought that old man Wilson’s dog got him, Rail quipped. They laughed. He turned to look further up the first of the two other aisles that ran the length of the shop and noticed a couple of women talking at the far end of it. He poked Adam in the ribs with his elbow, nodded toward the women and whispered, Hey, check out Mata Hari and the Good Witch back there. At least I hope she’s a good witch.

Adam turned to look and froze, locked in a steady gaze at one of the two women. Several moments later, he turned to Rale and said, Phew, that sizzle in black can cast a spell on me, any day. Then he returned his gaze back to her. The look on his face was one of awe and wonder.

And check out, Miss Incognito in gray, with the hat and those shades, Rale muttered, trying to bring his life long friend back down to earth.

Hey, maybe that’s Angelina, you know who, looking for a Hookah and a hunk, Adam muttered, then quietly added Quick, call the Gazette, I think we’ve got a cover story here. They laughed and slowly began working their way toward the two women.

Next, the cousins came upon a shoulder height, bookcase filled with several shapes and sizes of books. They stopped for a moment to check them out. On the top shelf, there was a variety of unknown but tempting titles like; The Alchemist’s Handbook, 17th Century Black Magic, The True Hue in You, Crown of the Firstborn Twin, and The Witches of Wangle. Adam picked up the witches book, to better see the name of the author. He read it out loud, Written by, A. I. Styne, grinning a little at the sound of her name. I wonder if there is anything in here about Epistemic or Ontic wave function at the quantum level? he quipped, as he opened to the section in the back of the book about the author and quickly pored over it.

Rale chuckled at Adam’s snappy wit, then he turned his attention back up the aisle, to where the two women were. That’s when he noticed a large, square sign with purple letters on a white background, up on the wall behind the cash register. Hmm. Oddities and Notions. What an interesting name for a head shop, he muttered, then asked