The Talisman

“Man, where did that chill come from?” Alex pulled her cardigan tight around her torso as they walked. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon and a fierce wind had picked up, the temperature having dropped twenty degrees in minutes. 

Trevor shrugged. “You know what they say about Colorado. If you don’t like the weather, just wait ten minutes.” 

“Okay, dad,” Alex said, rolling her eyes, her teeth beginning to chatter. “But I am not walking all the way to Joey’s freezing to death. Let’s stop in that thrift store and see if there’s a rad vintage coat I can buy.” 

“What thrift store?” Trevor started to say. He’d walked the route from his own house to Joey’s a hundred times and could have sworn there was no thrift shop on the way, but there it was - and not a new one either. It looked old and dingy and frankly, a little scary. He started to protest but Alex was halfway through the door, looking back at him impatiently. 

“I see a Bob Ross wig,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows tantalizingly. 

“Ew, you think I’m gonna put a thrift store wig on my head? I don’t want lice,” 

“But the ones you already have could really use the company!” Alex skipped ahead, down aisles of worn t-shirts, to a coat rack full of jackets in various states of distress. Trevor looked around nervously, not entirely trusting of the clientele of this store. An old man in a holey camouflage jacket flashed him a toothless smile as he passed, and he found himself increasingly annoyed with Alex’s impulsiveness. Sure, it was part of the reason she was so interesting, and he had to admit his life would be a lot less interesting without her. Ever since they were kids, she had been getting him into trouble. 

“What do you think of this one?” The coat was long, hot pink and fringed, and made her look like an overgrown stuffed animal. She twirled and strutted down the aisle as if it was a catwalk. 

“Please stop. You’re embarrassing me,” 

She grabbed him by the collar and kissed his cheek. “You have always so wanted to impress people who thrift shop at 9pm,” 

“Yeah, why is this place open so late anyway? Will you hurry up? We’re going to be late.”  

She rolled her eyes again, hanging up the pink monstrosity and sliding into a black leather biker jacket. 

“Late for warm Bud Lights and being peer pressured to play strip poker? Tragic,” 

She found a mirror and adjusted her clothes. “You know, I actually really like this, but I don’t think it goes with my cardigan,” 

“Librarian meets Hell’s Angels,” he grinned. 

“Hey! Does this cardigan really say librarian to you?” She pouted, taking off the cardigan and putting the leather coat back on over her t-shirt. 

“Sexy librarian,” He amended. 

“Wait, I see the perfect one,” Alex tossed the leather coat over the rack and shuffled through the coats, extracting an army green anorak covered in hand sewn patches. 

“And my size, too!” She put the coat on and twirled, making Trevor smile despite himself. 

After paying for the coat, they headed back outside. The wind had died down but the night was still chilly. It was the time of year when the constant heat had started to give way to cool nights, the sticky sweetness of summer replaced with crisp autumn evenings. The full moon cast a silvery glow over the street. Alex took a deep breath, closing her eyes. 

“I love the smell of seasons changing,” she said whimsically.

“I don’t know how you can smell it over the reek of body odor in that place,” Trevor grumbled, and she punched his shoulder playfully. 

“I have a tolerance to the smell of body odor, having spent so much time with you,” 

They walked on happily, Alex enjoying the feel of a cold nose and cheeks but sticking her hands in the pockets of the coat to warm her fingers. Her right hand hit something small, hard and disk shaped. She pulled it out, and stopped under the street light to examine it. 

“Hey, check this out,” she mumbled, and Trevor stopped to bend his head over the object in her hand. 

It was almost coin shaped, about the size of a quarter, but slightly raised where a coin would have been flat. It was made out of some gold-ish metal, maybe bronze, and engraved on both faces. In the middle of one face was an inset shiny black gemstone, surrounded by twisting, swirling lines. On the other was a figure, humanoid on the bottom but with a mischievous, almost taunting, animal-like face, eyes wide and pointed tongue emerging from the mouth. 

“Whoa,” said Trevor. The image made him uneasy; it seemed almost devilish, but something about the object drew him in. He wanted to touch it, to feel its weight in his hand. He reached for it without consciously telling his arm to do so, but before he could grab it Alex’s hand closed around it tightly, pulling it away from him. They looked each other in the eye, both breaking out of a sort of trance. 

“Sorry,” she said, blushing. “Here,” She reluctantly dropped it into his palm, not taking her eyes off of him, as if he was going to run off with it. As soon as it touched his skin, he felt his body warm with a crackling energy, like Pop Rocks dropped into Diet Coke. 

“Do you feel it too?” She asked quietly, still watching him. He swallowed hard, nodding his head. He gave it back to her, uncomfortable with both the intensity with which she watched him and the way it made him feel - hot, reckless, almost violent. Not entirely in control of himself. She grinned uneasily as she slipped it back into the pocket of the coat. 

“My precious,” she said, as if it were the One Ring to Rule Them All, and he laughed half-heartedly. 

“What do you think it is?” Alex asked. 

“I don’t know. It feels old. And...powerful. But I don’t know if it’s good,” 

“It’s an inanimate object,” She said, trying to sound authoritative. “How can it be bad or good?” 

“Is it though - inanimate? You felt what I felt. I’ve never felt anything like that before.” 

Suddenly going to Joey’s felt so juvenile and unimportant, their walking had slowed down, losing urgency and purpose. They were both quiet for the rest of the walk, shaken by the little object that sat at the bottom of Alex’s pocket. 

“Oh my God, look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Joey slurred, opening the door. He held tight onto the door frame with one hand as he swayed, nearly losing the Bud Light in the other. 

“Oh no, are we late? Did we miss hors d’ouevres?” Alex and Trevor sauntered past him without bothering to wait for an invitation, into the wreck of a living room. Joey shared the old house with three other twenty-year-old men, and it showed. The beige carpet, which may or may not have started out beige, was spotted with stains, and empty beer cans were tossed carelessly all over the room. A ragged, dented couch sat below an open window. The only nice thing in the room was the entertainment center, a 65-inch plasma TV with an expensive sound bar which, at the moment, was blasting the Chainsmokers at five decibels short of volcanic eruption.

A ping-pong table at the edge of the room bordering the kitchen was the center of the action, an intense beer pong game between two teams who, despite their drunkenness, were treating it with the seriousness of an Olympic match. Alex grabbed a beer, daintily moved a half-eaten piece of pizza from the couch cushion and sat down. 

“Next game with me?” Trevor raised an eyebrow at her. 

“You know I suck at beer pong,” 

“Oh, I know. But you’re the only one sober enough to be tolerable,” He pointed out, and Alex grinned and agreed. 

The previous game ended dramatically, with the necessity of a referee stepping in, but was finally resolved. The winning team had been at the table for hours and could barely stand, but that clearly wasn’t hurting their beer pong skills. They sunk their first two shots. 

“Ready for a quick game?” Alex grumbled, setting up her shot. She fingered the object in her pocket, finding it brought her comfort, and threw - and to her amazement, dropped the ball right in the cup, earning her a high-five from Trevor and incredulous stares from the opposing team, who had thought this as sure a thing as she had. 

They both wrote it off as dumb luck until she dropped another shot, and another. She couldn’t miss if she tried, and neither could he. They won the game with most of their cups still intact, and Alex gaining the bravado to talk smack to the other team, who were clearly embarrassed. As they set up the table for the next game, Trevor shot her a meaningful look. 

“Since when can you play beer pong?” He asked, eyebrows in the air. She grinned and shrugged. They both couldn’t help but wonder if the charm resting in the pocket of the anorak had anything to do with Alex’s sudden prowess. 

“So it’s what, like, a beer pong talisman?” Trevor asked later, as they started the walk home. It sounded even stupider out loud than it did running through his head. Alex hesitated, thoughtful. 

“I think it might just...give you what you want.” 

“Like, it grants wishes.” 

“I mean, that sounds so ridiculous and simple, but...yeah. I think so.” 

“But who would give that up? Who would be so foolish as to leave that in the pocket of a coat they gave to a thrift store?” 

Alex had no answer to that. They walked on, so deep in thought they failed to notice the dark figure that followed in the shadows behind them.