The black-haired girl strolled down the two-lane Main Street in quaint Bennington, Vermont, checking out a row of Mom and Pop businesses. Noting her favorite pizza joint and then a new restaurant humorously called The Angry Egg, Effie Thomas started to get pangs of hunger, but she focused on her mission. Her research said that there was a bookstore located somewhere on this street, so she followed the even numbers and ignored the crystal shop as well as the other artsy window displays which sought her attention. At the moment, she obsessively desired new books. That remained her focus. She craved a new adventure to lose herself inside of.
Deep down, she hoped to find T. Jelkes, Antiquarian Bookseller, here, but had to settle for a store called Green Butterfly, Second-Hand Books. Located on the second floor of a neglected brick building, a red door beckoned her to enter. A strange aura hung over it as if invisible words above it were carved “Be ye far from us, O ye profane.” She boldly strided in.
Once inside, a green staircase led to a few small storefronts. One was a counseling center, another was empty, and the last one on the end was the used bookstore. The white French doors were wide open, and there was a simple seating area outside, consisting of a wicker bench and also a few wooden chairs in a circle, in which to enjoy the new purchases. It gave the area a welcoming feel.
Though it had a soothing energy about it, Effie cautiously peeked inside. She almost hoped to find a balding man with a fringe of carrot red hair. But, no, it wasn’t a vulturine Jelkes in his dressing gown ready to light a lamp in order to see better. It was a serious-looking man nonetheless. To the left of the entrance sat a middle-aged man at the counter, going through a pile of receipts. With a red goatee and closely shaved head, he kind of alarmed her. Maybe he was some sort of Pan who she invoked into her life. The thought frightened her a little, because he didn’t seem very friendly at first impression. His brows furrowed and he grumbled. In fact, the myths of Pan detail how he caused panic in some people. Maybe the energy was too intense, especially for a girl like her, already cowering from life, in her opinion. Unless this is what was set in her path for a reason, in which case an adventure might unfold. She wasn’t convinced yet.
Ignoring the bookseller, the petite girl wandered about. Genres were divided into different sections by very small rooms, which were each colorful and charming. Above each entrance were signs about finding treasures. Here, she searched for bargains. Browsing, she hoped to find a bin where she might find an assortment of rare arcane books. She hunted them in particular.
She thought, “I guess I was a little disappointed that I didn’t find a room containing an ancient leather chair and the curtain parted so that I could peer inside Jelkes’ living area. There, I’d expect to find a table with a coarse blue and white checkered tablecloth. Near it, I’d see a white marble mantle and also a teapot warming on a metal grate. I feel a little sad.”
She closed her eyes and almost caught a whiff of black tea as if beckoning to her. The vision burst when she realized that the thin man with closely-shaved, reddish, but slightly graying hair stood peering at her with a confused expression.
In a brusque manner, he said, “Oh, I didn’t know anyone entered. We don’t get much traffic here on a Tuesday.”
“I’m just browsing.”
“Anything in particular? Most general fiction is sorted alphabetically by the author’s last name, but I have a few sections such as romance, fantasy and SciFi in different rooms. A few of the new arrivals are unsorted in the back. Nothing fancy here.”
Gathering her nerves, she twisted from side to side and hesitantly asked, “Do you have any Dion Fortune books?”
His eyebrows almost crossed in contemplation. The stern man in jeans and a black T-shirt studied the strange creature before him. A high schooler and obvious loner by her Goth attire, she had an aura of sadness about her and yet also a sense of untested strength, which might unleash personal power. That was his assumption whether right or wrong. Her pale face beckoned to him like a priestess of the Moon.
“What brings you interest in this author? TikTok?”
“No,” Effie answered, glaring as if a little annoyed. “I’ve read a few of her books and I hope to find more. I don’t have much money, so I was hoping to find a cheap copy of one that I can afford.”
“Well, I don’t have many esoteric titles at the moment, but I’ll show you what I have.”
The man with the piercing eyes reluctantly led her to an alcove in the back, where a few old books sat on a rather bare shelf. He quickly found one that brought a smile to his lips and he held it out to her with a sense of triumph.
“I guess you’re in luck. I have this one in stock.”
“The Demon Lover,” Effie read aloud, grimacing. “It sounds like a horror book. Thanks, but I’m not sure that is my thing.”
“Don’t go by a title. Occult fiction is a bit deeper than that. Give it a try.”
A little unsure, Effie stared at the cover, noting a woman in a yellow dress who sat typing at a desk while the ghostly figure of a man behind a red curtain held onto a chain that encircled her neck. Knowing the author’s talent for whisking her away to a strange world of fraternities and tales of magick, she had a feeling that she should give it a try, no matter that she didn’t want to read about a potentially abusive man. Dion Fortune’s books made her see things so vivid in her mind that she feared she’d relate too much to the woman and feel her turmoil.
“Oh, well, I’m bored. I guess I’ll take it.”
“You might find it interesting.”
“I’m sure you are right.”
“Come back next week and I’ll see if I can find some other interesting titles from my next delivery. I’ll put them aside for you.”
“Thank you.”
The short girl with dark hair and bright eyes smiled an elfish grin. She had rather pointy ears, was wearing a black dress beneath a cropped jacket and a worn pair of boots. One was untied. His view of her seemed to soften. Perhaps, she was a true seeker of the Mysteries afterall and not just a dabbler.
“Be prepared. These books have a way of getting into you and changing you.”
“Did they change you?”
Ignoring her, the man wearing black loafers went to the cash register and simply said, “That will be three dollars.”
She took out a credit card from her pocket.
He sighed and asked, “Don’t you have cash? Credit card fees eat up my profits.”
“No.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You can have the book, but you need to read it with…an understanding. It is not just mindless entertainment, you know.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” he continued in disbelief. “There is something very deep behind them. But you might think they are just out of date and rubbish like kids your age might think.”
Effie shook her head, but he didn’t seem completely convinced yet. Perhaps it had to do with her young age.
“I can read a book and understand that it was written from a different point in time,” Effie said and then shrugged. “Besides, I feel I need to read it…like something is waiting for me. I have to see what is calling to me.”
“Ahh,” he told her with a wink. “Then this book is in good hands.”
“But you never answered my question. Did the books change you?”
He simply nodded. Effie wondered if he was really secretly like Jelkes.
“I’m sure I’ll be back,” she said, watching him closely for any clue about him. She was sure that he did the same.
“The door is open.”
“So what is your name?” she finally asked him.
“Les Rogers. And I own this store. It doesn’t make much money. It is more of a hobby. I simply love books and like to find good homes for them.”
“And I’m Effie Thomas and I will give them a good home.”
“Okay then.”
In a happy mood, Effie headed home. The sun shone bright and she felt as if she had a new prize in her possession. Unfortunately, her mother Rose Thomas saw her with a book when she returned home and her smile faded. It was as if having books signaled that she was alone instead of being out with friends. To Effie, a book meant that she was engaging with a world where she was included, heart and mind, in an otherworldly adventure.
Her parents weren’t too interested in adventures. Her dad was a car salesman. Her mother was a hairstylist. They were somewhat traditional. But Effie was mousy and not interested in make-up or in fancy hairstyles. She always felt a little different from them. Maybe it was because she was adopted and not sure of her heritage.
Her mother didn’t understand either. Rose thought that her interest in the strange books is the same; her seeking some mystery about her being, which will only bring heartache. Effie tried to be open, even if it invited disappointment. She felt tossed in a rope in a place where she had no other obvious lifeline. She didn’t want to end up being committed like Hugh Paston’s family sought to commit him. To be honest, being a teenager was hard and sometimes she acted out, but she assured herself that it was all within normal limits.
Closing her bedroom door, Effie wanted to shut the real world out for a short while. Getting cozy, she propped up her soft pillows and laid down in bed. She pulled the maroon covers over her torso and started reading The Demon Lover. Already, she was rapt and her mind tried to take it all in.
Whoa, she thought. Imagine being in a real Lodge. She wondered if she’d even be a candidate and if her aura was the right kind of “occult green” that was mentioned in the book or whether it was the “clear blue for the higher mysteries?” Would she be brave enough to pass any tests along with their hidden dangers? The possibilities fascinated her.
Effie had never heard of some of the strange things mentioned such as an occult telephone. Was that a real thing? That intrigued her. She was hungry for more information. If only she could enter the pages and start the journey from there. Dion could be her guide to learn the Mysteries. Then she’d find her way. She was sure of that.
Soon, she got more absorbed into the story. She read that the self-serving Lucas searched for a secretary who he could influence for his selfish deeds. When he found one who suited him, he wasted no time in controlling her and making her spy on the Lodge. Using the power of suggestion, he told Veronica that a steel collar encircled her neck along with a chain, like she had seen on the cover. He also said that it would constrict and choke her if she told anyone about him. Hypnosis or suggestion made her believe it. A sense of horror filled Effie. What a horrible man this Lucas was! She never wanted to be controlled like that. How would she escape?
All day, she thought about this Fraternity. She didn’t think much of them either. Just a bunch of men who think they are above the world, in her opinion. And the Lucas guy was even more creepy. Still, she was captivated by a story involving a secret lodge and its wayward member. It was a good thing they didn’t admit women, because it didn’t appeal to her. There must be a group somewhere more suited to her.
“I wonder if I was a past priestess of Isis,” Effie whispered, closing her eyes and envisioning a temple in ancient times. She used her imagination to make it come to life. Made of stone with a sacred circle in the center, it called to her. Candles burned and shadows danced.
“That is more my thing,” she whispered, imagining more.
Wearing an ankle-length sheath dress and singing hymns to Isis, she presided over the offerings. Smoke from myrrh incense whirled around her in the solemn chamber, where lotus flowers were placed on the altar near the flames. Being of service fed her soul. Precise rituals filled her days and fulfilled her sense of purpose. She worked with the tides of destiny. That was power.
But alas, that was only a daydream, so she got out her math book and did some homework. In the back of her mind, other thoughts kept her going. She wanted to keep going wherever all this strangeness might take her. Surely, the real world would offer her some chance to experience the secret side of things. Time would tell.