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Spring - Lingering Cold - 2 (Kibble, of course)
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Josie raced around Veilwood’s rooms and passed a frowning Nan a few times.
The old woman's face showed a look of slight puzzlement, but Josie didn’t have time to explain everything to Nan now, as her plan had her on a tight schedule. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that Josie was not just ahead of time this morning, but that she had more than an hour left to get to the bus station.
“Why are you in such a hurry? It’s not time to go to the bus yet!” Nan called as Josie entered the mud room after skidding over the kitchen floor tiles.
“I need to go to the store before school,” the girl called back as she slipped into her wandering boots and hurried tying the laces; the warm and comfy moon boots ignored on the shoe rack. While she put on her parka, Nan appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.
“I have to buy a few things to take to school with me.'' Josie said and shouldered her backpack, way less loaded today, in case there needed to be some more running to be done.
“Can't you get your sweets after school?' Nan enquired.
“I don’t need sweets. Bye, Nan!' With that, she was out the door and was greeted by the still dark morning sky and air so cold it made her shiver. Ah, she’d be warm soon enough.
Josie went to fetch her small red bicycle from the garden shed. She hadn’t been able to use it much because of the snow, which had just begun to recede. Here, in the rural area outside of town, most of the grounds and fields were still covered in a white blanket; yet already dots of green peeked through here and there. Josie tucked her backpack into the luggage rack and checked if her bike light was turned on. Mindful of the school bus schedule, she pedalled her way to Brigspeel’s town centre, a calm village-like place, especially in the morning hours before the commuters went on their way. Her small legs were working hard as the stinging wind turned the knuckles of her hands white and made her eyes water, while her breath puffed away in little white clouds. The biting cold air carried no scents and made Josie wide awake and expectant of the day. But, sure enough, five minutes later, Josie had reached the town square, a touch miffed that she hadn’t broken her record time. It was still dark with dawn almost another hour away, and many houses had glowing windows, revealing sills adorned with flowers and knick-knacks and the shadows of the inhabitants moving behind curtains.
Leaning her bike against the convenience store's steps, she ascended, checking her parka’s pocket for the tiny embroidered coin pouch. Nan had made the intricate item for her, it had been one of the gifts Josie had received last year for her eleventh birthday. Little glossy pearls adorned the sparkling, metallic threads of the stitched pattern, and Josie was always very careful not to lose it. Upon entering the store, the little doorbell chimed a welcoming tune.
Mrs. Wolfe, the owner and keeper of Brigspeel’s charming convenience store, stood behind the counter at a marvellous, painted vintage cash register. She was an elderly woman with dark brown, dyed hair styled into short permanent curls. While working in her store, she always wore one of her colourful signature aprons, always pressed with perfection. Today's choice was a vivacious floral pattern, a mix of small blue and violet flowers.
The delicious scents of baked goods, still warm from the oven, and brewed coffee filled the space, creating a special sort of welcoming atmosphere one could only encounter in the mornings. A variety of purchasable goods were stacked on the built-in shelves at Mrs. Wolfe’s back, with large woven baskets in the middle cradling the golden flood of sweet pastries and savoury oven-fresh treats. At the remote end, a door connected to storage and the Wolfe’s family home. It was flanked by refrigerators, and their soft hums were all but drowned out by the amiable gurgles of the coffee machine. Sitting at a small To-Go station beside the register, it was cooking up a fresh batch of Mrs. Wolfe’s popular brew; paper cups stacked beside and sugar packs were ready at hand for thirsty customers. When she heard someone entering, she looked up and recognized Josie. The girl bypassed the colourful displays at the entry and the well-organized rows of tidy shelves, which were lit by the warm glow of overhead lights. To Mrs. Wolfe’s surprise, Josie ignored even the lavish candy displays, where she tended to linger most times to pick a selection of her taste. Today, the child headed straight for the counter.
“Good morning, Josie!” the shopkeeper greeted the girl and looked at her over the gold-rimmed half moons of her glasses with kind eyes. “How can I help you today, little Miss? You look in a hurry!”
“Good morning, Mrs. Wolfe! I need to buy something a cat would eat, please.” Josie stated, her face flushed and a tad breathless, while she supported herself by clutching the edge of the counter.
She seemed to have come here in a rush, and before school even. The woman had to smile because the girl’s head barely reached over the worktop, the energetic rosiness of her cheeks in stark contrast to the white surface. A convenient metal rail was fixed to the bottom of the counter, which most children used to step on to get a better view; but for reasons unknown, Josie never did that. Mrs. Wolfe had already taken note of the girl a few times before, who was always visiting alone and never in the company of other children. Didn't seem to mind being on her own, though. An unusual girl, that Josie.
“Something a cat would eat? Why not just buy canned cat food? Or maybe some kibbles?” the woman mused with the tiniest of frowns at the quirky question.
“Oh,” the girl exclaimed. “I didn’t know you sold that here.”
“Why, of course we do! There's a cat in almost every household here in Brigspeel,” Mrs. Wolfe responded in her kind manner and left the counter with a gesture to a row of shelves amidst the store.
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She led the girl to the right section, almost an entire shelf filled with a wide variety of cans and bags; animal feed for many pets. Try to imagine that, Mrs. Wolfe thought. Not selling cat food! The senior ladies of Brigspeel would let Mrs. Wolfe feel their indignant disdain if she didn't provide them sustenance for their furred treasures. All the Colonel Whiskers, Mr. Mittens, and Professor Purringtons would get their meals and treats, you could bet on that! Reminding herself of the task at hand, Mrs. Wolfe cut off her rambling thoughts and returned her attention towards the girl.
“Here we are, Josie. See? We even have different sorts of food, although most people buy the chicken sort. I am told that, for some reason, many cats like that one best.”
The girl ran one of her little fingers along some cans, checking the price tabs.
“And here we have the kibbles,” Mrs. Wolfe pointed out with her hand. “Smaller bags to test if your cat likes them and bigger ones if you like to buy in bulk and store it at home to have reserves. Bigger bags also offer better price per weight.”
“And you say chicken is really popular?” Josie asked, her intense big eyes studying Mrs. Wolfe under her furrowed brow.
A few strands of her rebellious hair had escaped the confines of her ponytail and were invading her view. The shopkeeper was tempted to brush them out of the child's face.
“Why, yes - but you could also try the Salmon. It is supposed to be a close second to the Chicken. At least, that’s what I have heard. Cats seem to be very picky eaters. That is why there are so many little packages of food. You can try if a cat likes the sort before committing to a large quantity,” she explained patiently.
“So maybe I should buy a few of the smaller bags and test them out?”
“Sure! I would recommend you buy two small bags of Kibbles and maybe four cans of different sorts. That should get you started on the taste testing. Would you like me to pick something out for you? I could pack the most popular ones.” Mrs. Wolfe suggested and went to get a paper bag from their storage under the counter.
“Yes, that would be great, please;” Josie nodded and flared the nostrils of her cute, broad nose with a deep breath of obvious relief.
The shop owner smiled; she knew Josie to be a very direct girl who was nonetheless always intent to be polite - in her own way. Unusual for such a little girl, but Josie was an unusual inhabitant of Brigspeel in many other regards, as well, wasn’t she? Once more a bit distracted by her thoughts, Mrs. Wolfe forgot what she had already put in the bag and had to recheck its contents. Satisfied with her choices, she led the girl back to the counter. Mrs. Wolfe rang her up, which made Josie giggle with glee every time she was here. When she had asked the girl about it, Josie had explained that pushing the vintage register’s buttons almost composed a melody of its own. Who would have thought? Mrs. Wolfe watched the girl count the coins meticulously, as she always did. On another earlier occasion, Josie had told Mrs. Wolfe that she had to be mindful of her savings because her allowance were but a few coins of pocket money.
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Wolfe,” the girl expressed her gratitude while stuffing the paper bag into her pack. A practised swing slid it in place on her back after Josie had stowed her coin purse into her parka’s inside pocket, checking twice if the zip was, indeed, closed.
The woman nodded and smiled once more, but the girl had already made to leave.
“I didn’t know you even had a cat at Veilwood, Josie,” Mrs. Wolfe, craning her neck, called after Josie. The thought had just sprung to her, and the child had already reached the exit.
Josie turned her face back over one shoulder. With baby hair stirring in the morning breeze and creating a dark halo on the top of her small head, she answered:
“We don’t, Mrs. Wolfe!”
The store’s door cut off the crisp gust of spring morning air left in Josie’s wake and closed with the familiar chime. After watching the girl’s small, dark shape descend the shop’s stairs, Mrs. Wolfe remembered what she had planned to do prior to Josie’s arrival. She returned to the task of restocking her shelves, her hands completing the work with almost automatic motions. Business would pick up soon with the usual morning crowd - customers eager to exchange a few bits of delicious gossip with their purchases - but for now the store had returned to its serene state of the wee hours. As the coffee machine finished its production cycle, the almost melodic buzz of the refrigerators could be heard again. The shopkeeper enjoyed the temporary calm, the aroma of fresh, baked items mingling with the rich fragrance of coffee around her.
What an unusual girl, this Josie, Mrs. Wolfe thought again and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. But not just the girl herself, everything about the girl as well. The family of Veilwood was a mystery in and of itself, the girl’s parents never present, and their whereabouts unclear. As far as Mrs. Wolfe was aware, no one in Brigspeel remembered why and when exactly Josie had come to live at Veilwood; not even she herself could dig up memories about it. And no one was able to provide any other details, either. The single known fact was that the girl was in the care of Veilwood's sole other inhabitant, the elusive Agathe Sedlmeyr (a strange name of German heritage, was it?); to whom Josie referred to as “Nan”. The old woman was never seen about Brigspeel’s town proper and seemed to just keep to the grounds of Veilwood - if she left the house at all, that was.
The Wolfes had been in Brigspeel for generations and once even run a small beverage factory. Every working day, goods from the factory had been delivered all around the area with a charming old truck. As more modern production facilities had forced the beverage factory out of business, Mrs. Wolfe had still kept the delivery service in place for elders and inhabitants of the town who grappled with physical challenges. Brigspeelers took care of each other.
Once a week, a delivery with bare essentials was sent out to Veilwood. Nothing had ever suggested a lack of attention for the girl, though, as Josie was always very well-kept. It was also apparent that she was brought up to be considerate and polite - even if she never shied away from voicing her opinions in a rather direct manner.
A shame, she thought, that Josie didn’t seem to have any friends. Ah, well, children would be children, wouldn’t they? Mrs. Wolfe was getting lost in her musings again. She shook her head as if to clear it, the dark curls of her hair not even moving an inch, but her thoughts remained tangled in confusion about her latest customer.
What an unusual girl, indeed.
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