The Book of Spells: Part One

Tom Williams is a Marco Islander and the author of two books: Lost and Found and Surrounded by Thunder—The Story of Darrell Loan and the Rocket Men. Both books are available on Kindle and Nook.

Julie loved garage sales. She loved everything about them. October on Marco was one of the best months of the year for driveway bargains because of the wonderful change in the weather, but also because all the friends and neighbors began to come back to get ready for the winter season. After a long hot summer, most people were ready to clear out the clutter and offer some real driveway deals, or on the good days, the almost-giveaways were spilling out to the sidewalks.

Saturdays were best for the October sales. An unmistakable energy was in the air and was a perfect match for the crisp, clean air after the first cold front. After Julie sat down with her coffee, her latest copy of the Coastal Breeze News, and the most recent social media, she was ready to hit all of the garage-sale offerings on her list.

The first sale was a dud. Clearly, someone just wanted to clean out some closets and wipe away spider webs because all that was waiting in the driveway was bric-a-brac and clearance gifts that were not even good enough to be re-gifted.

The second house on the list was more of the same, but with some classic items that were screaming nostalgia from the 1960s. The blustery wind, however, was indeed delightful and alive with the haunt of a chill. Halloween skeletons were dancing in the breeze and jack-o’-lantern pumpkins and Frankenstein monsters were haunting at least one house on every street.

The third house on the list was more than a perfect match for Halloween and the Southwest Florida autumn day. Although the blue skies were flawless, windswept, and reaching out forever, the old Deltona home was almost as dark and creepy as anyone could find on Marco Island. 

Whatever curb appeal the home might once have had was long gone. The sun-faded stack of blocks was lonesome, and lost, and without any charm whatsoever. The sign out front proclaimed that the contents of the house were an estate sale, but the lack of interest in the islanders who were gathering to poke at the dusty items was clear.

Beyond the cracked driveway, the dark windows of the house appeared to be watching with a sinister interest. Below the ramshackle roof that was sagging with mildew and the weight of a thousand storms, the overgrown and weedy lawn was another item on the list of neglect.

Julie, however, was a garage-sale trooper and was not afraid of a little dust and a displaced spider or two. Despite the anxious gathering of competitive treasure seekers, the lone wolf sitting at a table beside a stack of books was also, apparently, nothing to fear, but his appearance was a fun encounter with people watching.

The misplaced youngster between the stacks of obviously musty books was too busy to be frightening, but he did fit nicely with the haunted house background and the image of Halloween. The odd young man at the book table was living up to his gothic image. His spiky raven hair was at war with the gusts of the autumn breeze and disabling his ability to scroll through his phone. His windblown hair was a mess and in constant contact with his sweeping black fingernails. The spider web tattoo crawling up his neck was screaming for attention but also whispering an almost sad tale of regret. 

When Julie approached and picked up a book, the boy was indifferent as he continued the battle with his hair, his screen, and the gusty breeze. Apparently, not even a cute redhead with an exciting figure could charm the vampire want-a-be away from his internet searches.   

Without preamble, but with a little bit of frustration, Julie began searching through the books. The irony, however, of shopping at a garage sale on a tropical island in front of a creepy old house with a would-be vampire watching the store was enough to crack a smile.

The smile stopped, however, when a large book with old English script emerged from the bottom of the pile. The covering was strange. The face was an odd type of leather that appeared as though it had not seen daylight in more than a few decades, and the title was equally bewitching: The Book of Spells.

“What can you tell me about this book?” Julie interrupted the vampire boy and his busy phone. He looked up for a moment and smiled with a charm Julie had not been expecting. The vampire was friendly and he laughed. “All I know is that the woman who was living here was really old and from England. Before living here, she worked in Hollywood in the movies.”

For Julie, the explanation was perfect. The Book of Spells was an old movie prop! Most probably from the depression era before World War II. This was when all the great monster movies emerged and changed the film industry forever.

The dust on The Book of Spells was thick and there was no price sticker. After finally finding something that was casting more of a charm than his phone, the vampire boy with a spider web neck smiled again and offered simply. “All the books are ten bucks each.”

Julie engaged the smile and pulled out her cash. After jumping in her car, the cute redhead with the exciting figure drove home with The Book of Spells and went to bed just before midnight. She woke, however, at 3:30, which is always the witching hour, and The Book of Spells—that she knew she left on the living room table- was beside her in bed.

Please look for part two of The Book of Spells next week!