Parasol Rain sat by the coffee table in her family’s mid-century classic living room, surveying her Christmas shopping list, over a glass of orange juice. Her Mom, Francine, an interior designer, was an expert in refurbishing vintage furniture. Their house was void of any, as she would put it, cheap modern revival travesties. However, this meant Francine was a little paranoid about liquids in the living room, especially after last semester's science fair incident.

“Parasol, watch your paws with that orange juice!” She called from the kitchen. “Are you using a coaster? Remember that’s-”

“Genuine New Hamster maple wood passed down from my great-grandfather, I know. I’m using a coaster!”

“Okay, just checking, Pari.”

“Uh, Mom?” Called Grape, Parasol’s older brother, who was in the laundry room.

“Yes, muffin?”

“You know that red wool sock I was missing? Well, I found it in the washing machine.”

“Always in the last place you look, eh?”

“Yeah, it was in the load of white towels… And now they’re all pink…”

“Oh, dear!” Yelled Francine.

“Don’t lay an ostrich egg,” said Parasol. “I’ll add hydrogen peroxide to my shopping list.”

 

Parasol, Grape and their two best friends, Frederick, nicknamed Flappyface, and his older sister, Daisy, were about to set out on a grand expedition to the Eden Centre, colloquially known as The Magpie Nest, to get the majority of their Christmas shopping done. The timing couldn’t have been better as the nest was having their big early Black Friday sale, and there was no school that day. The only downside was that particular Friday was the 13th, but they wouldn’t let some silly superstition assuage them.

Parasol hopped into the kitchen to put her glass in the sink, only to find Grape rummaging through the bakeware cupboard for a loaf tin.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I’m trying to perfect my Christmas cake recipe,” he said. “You know, the one with frozen instead of candied fruit. I think I’ve finally figured out how to keep the raspberries from making it too soggy.”

“Well, brother dearest, nothing is anything until later. Now come on, the bus will be at the terminal in 10 minutes!”

“10 minutes? Okay, we gotta go!”

“Are your scarves going to be warm enough?” Francine asked.

“Yes, mother,” said Parasol.

“Alright. Have fun, and keep an eye on your brother. Dinner will be ready at six.”

​

Grape followed his sister, tail between his legs, to the bus terminal. Flappyface and Daisy were waiting underneath a shelter, keeping warm and dry from the slight drizzle.

“Pari! G-Dog!” Called Flappyface. “What took you so long?”

“Just the master chef’s sudden stroke of genius is all,” said Parasol. “How are you guys?”

“We’re doing great,” said Daisy. “Did you guys see the season finale of Cobra Cat?”

“Totally,” said Grape. “It was so awesome! But they were definitely implying that Ty-Lee and Joslyn have a thing for each other. Still not sure how I feel about that.”

“What, why?” Daisy asked.

“Well, I don’t think Leelyn is a bad ship,” he said. “It’s just that Ty has better chemistry with Shelbie.” 

“Valid point,” said Daisy. “Holly Hermit is an amazing actress. She’s like the best at combat out of everyone on the whole show. Shame she doesn’t get more screen time.”

“Yeah,” said Parasol, “but we all know Levi Salmon's opinions on peak performance, acting or otherwise.”

“She’s comin’ round the mountain! Here she comes!” Yelled Flappyface, pointing at the big red bus.

Parasol, Grape, Daisy and Flappyface boarded and took their seats near the back. The bus whizzed by their suburban neighbourhood sidewalks, lined with picket fences and naked trees.

​

Flappyface glanced at his own shopping list.

“Let's see, I’ve got Mom, Dad, Grape, Pari and you,” he said to Daisy. “I’ve also got Uncle Custard, Aunt Charge, Patrina, Earl and Honey. Am I forgetting anybody?”

“Maggie and Chirpy, remember?” said Daisy.

“Right! Added to the list.”

“So, is Maggie a family friend?” asked Grape.

“She’s our parents’ girlfriend,” said Daisy. 

“Girlfriend or girlfriend?”

“They're a polycule,” said Flappyface. “It’s Maggie's first Christmas with us, and she’s bringing her daughter. Our mom wants everything to be perfect.”

“Well, that certainly sounds excit-”

With a jolt, the bus came to a sudden stop.

“What happened?”

The doors opened.

“Everybody out,” said the bus driver.

The four friends begrudgingly shuffled off. Outside, the wind had picked up, and the slight drizzle had turned to a fine snow. 

“Rats!” Flappyface said, having noticed one of the tires was flat. 

“Hey, it’s no big,” said Parasol. “The nest is only 15 minutes away.”

​

She led them on a trek through the billowing wind and snow showers that, with each passing minute, became stronger and heavier. Grape, who was right behind Parasol, slipped and landed on his belly, causing Flappyface and Daisy to bump into him.

“Pari, we should call our folks and see if they can give us a ride home,” said Grape. 

“But we’re almost there!”

“I don’t think it's safe,” he said.

“Look, we're cold and damp, but it will only be more hazardous if we stay here,” she argued. “Besides, with this weather, everyone else will be at home. We’ll be able to shop in peace.”

Grape stomped his foot down in the increasingly deepening snow. 

“Parasol, I’m oldest. You could stand to listen to me more often. I’m calling-” he pulled out his phone, unable to turn it on as he forgot to charge it the night before. “You’re calling Mom!”

“Oldest? When has that ever mattered?”

“We can go someplace else in a few weeks.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Likely story with how absentminded and forgetful you are!”

“Guys!” Yelled Daisy. “I can see the nest from here. Let’s move!”

​

With nearly frozen toes, they finally made it to The Magpie Nest. Despite arriving a few minutes later than they would’ve liked, a security guard had just opened one of the back entrances and welcomed them inside. The nest certainly lived up to its name, as it was filled with all manner of shiny objects. It resembled an opera house or the local ballet school’s concert hall more than a mall. The walls were a glossy white, and from the high ceilings hung crystal chandeliers that would twinkle as the sunlight shone through the skylights. The imposing environment was more noticeable than ever as they marvelled at the lack of pedestrians.

“Right then,” said Parasol, shaking the snow from her cotton tail. “We’ll reconvene by the boba stand at noon.”

“The boba stand? Why not the pizza place?” Grape asked.

“The wait time combined with the extra carbs will just slow us down!”

“We’ll need actual food to keep us going!”

“Boba!”

“Pizza!”

The arguing siblings felt the linoleum floor shake beneath them. 

“Uh, guys,” said Daisy, “don’t look now, but…”

“Stampede!” Yelled Flappyface.

 They all scattered in different directions: Parasol made a beeline for the consignment shop, Flappyface ran for the bookstore, Daisy took refuge in a Shepherds’ clearance t-shirt rack, and Grape hid behind the Kawii Kitty display inside Crazy Topic.

***

​

I ducked into a random store to catch my breath. The air in the establishment was unusually musty, lingering with the stench of mothballs. Instead of the store supplying the typical variety of cashmere and silk, the racks were packed with old wool sweaters, which presumably had been unearthed from a cardboard box at the back of a closet. I was in the consignment shop.

“Francy, ” called the cashier. “How are you?”

“Um, I’m Parasol,” I told her. “Francine is my daughter, I mean mother.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “You look just like her.”

“Really?”

“Why, of course. Let me know if you need anything, kiddo.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

​

I hopped up and down the aisles, looking for something my mom would find useful. There’s nothing worse than gifting someone something that will just sit in a corner collecting dust. With how frequently she shops there, I figured getting her a gift card would be practical, if a bit lackadaisical. Passing by a shelf, I caught my reflection in a mirror and glanced at the blue eyes and grey floppy ears that the cashier spoke of. While I understand where people are coming from when they say I’m the spitting image of my mother, I always get taken off gard by it, assuming they must be exaggerating. Although I do spend more time pondering than I do observing. Despite us being different species, I always identified more with my father. We are animals of science, cognizant and cautious of our innovations' impact on society, to the extent that we are often called upon to clean up others' messes. He’s working on anti-AI software, while I’m devoting the majority of my studies to ecology and climate change. It’s my mother and brother who are more artistically inclined. I still wasn’t sure what had perturbed Grape so much that morning.

​

As I contemplated the AI apocalypse via hostile takeover, or heat death do to increased CO₂ emissions, I found the perfect gift for my mother – an antimacassar that felt more like a lace doily. If I could fix the spots where it had yellowed from age, I could prove to her that I respected her refurbishing prowess while proving my own. It would also relieve my conscience of guilt after my Sea Level Simulator almost ruined the coffee table. Plus, we wouldn’t have to use those stupid coasters anymore. As I checked out, I had another semi-awkward interaction with the cashier. To think I can deliver a several-page-long speech to the entire student body, yet I can barely articulate myself to a stranger.

I left to grab a carrot smoothie from the juice bar nearby.

“Good carrot. I’d like an afternoon smoothie.”

Never mind.

***

​

“Hi, may I help you?” said a Shepherd’s employee.

“Oh, no thanks,” I said, squirming out of the t-shirt rack. “I was just browsing.” I pulled out a random one. “Cute, right?”

“Totally,” they said.

I looked at the shirt. Thaughty Scotty was scrawled across the back.

“FYI, we’ve got a buy one, get two 30% off sale right now.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said as they left.

Flustered, I put the shirt back. I looked around at the unevenly lit store. I always found it impressive how they were able to shove so much stuff into one small place – not an inch of wall space spared. Most other stores had a signature scent that the employees would periodically spray outside to entice customers like pheromones. Shepard’s, however, just reeked of cheap pleather. I was about to leave when I spotted the perfect gift for my best friend, Kiesha. A white collar studded with silver spikes and a red iridescent butterfly charm. Kiesha loved butterflies. She would surely kiss me at the soccer team’s New Year’s party if I gave it to her. I flipped it over to check the price. Woof, that’s expensive. Not that I was unable to afford it entirely, but I promised my little brother I’d buy us a new video game we really wanted. Then, we could play it together over the holidays.

 

I stood there staring at the collar, pondering. I still had a few weeks to make some extra allowance money, but the game could be sold out by then. I might not even have time for chores with studying and festivities. Not to mention that Flappyface would no doubt suspect something. I had been standing still for too long to be considered normal. I ultimately decided to just buy the collar and figure out the money for the game later. I went up to the check-out. As soon as the transaction was approved, the nest went black in sudden midnight. I turned my phone’s torch on and messaged the group chat.

***

​

Parasol: WHAT THE HECK?! (°△°|||)

Flappyface: BLACK OUT!╭(°A°`)╮

Daisy: Where are you guys?

Flappyface: Bookstore.

Parasol: I’m outside the salon.

Daisy: Any idea where Grape is?

Flappyface: Nope.

Parasol: No, sorry.

Daisy: (⊙＿⊙)

Parasol: He probably had the brilliant idea of getting Taco Bell for lunch. 

Now he’s most likely in the bathroom with food poisoning.

Flappyface: (－‸ლ)

***

​

I crawled out from behind the Kawii Kitty cardboard standee and looked around at the menagerie of merchandise. The aforementioned Kitty was well represented, along with last season's anime tees, Spiral Tour throw pillows, Cobra Cat friendship bracelets, and socks with this week's heartthrob’s face stitched onto them. When I was younger, my favourite thing was having staring contests with the void-eyed vinyl figures near the back until an employee passed by; then I would ask what was playing over the loudspeakers. It was usually some alt-metal band I’d never heard of and would immediately forget once I left the store. But for a brief moment, I’d live out a fantasy of being someone way cooler and more hardcore. These days, they just play the same string of K-pop songs on repeat like any other store.

I noticed a sign taped to a door that read, Discounted Creatures and Caverns cards. 

Discounted cards? Sign me up!

 

I stepped into a small backroom that resembled a janitor’s closet. The door slammed behind me, and I blacked out.

Later, I opened my eyes to the dingy room, now lit only by five candles arranged on what appeared to be a demon-summoning circle. My legs were tied to a rickety folding chair, and I couldn’t squirm free.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be rude,” I said to the shadowy figures in front of me, “but I think you're a few decades behind on the whole demon summoning thing. Like, wasn’t this more popular in the '80s?”

“If synth wave and virus denialism can make a comeback, then why can’t demonic  sacrifices?” 

The slightly taller of the two figures stepped into the light and swept his floppy emo bangs out of his face. The other moved within view.

“Patrina!” I yelled. “What the heck are you doing?”

“Grape, chill,” hushed Patrina. “This is my… Friend, Trevor Spanielson.”

“What’s your twisted damage, Trev?!”

“My damage?” he scoffed. “This is an act of righteousness, my boy!”

I rolled my eyes. That guy had to be only five years older than Patrina.

“The demon Letzroch (lits-ol) shall command these pebbles to reject modernity and embrace tradition,” he continued. “I call upon his great powers to cleanse this wretched Crazy Topic of Cobra Cat, commodities. May this store be the domain of Levi Salmon no more!”

“Okay, so what do you want from me to accomplish that? My blood?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Just your soul.”

That’s worse.

“Look,” I told him, “I’m all for not lining the pockets of an anticrustaceanist, species essentialist, conspiracy theorist, but do you really think sacrificing me is the best optics? I mean, come on, man. Did you really have to do this today?”

“Silence!” He snapped. “Qwick, get the duck tape!”

“What tape?” Patrina asked.

“Trina, you’re so stupid! I’ll be right back. Just keep him quiet!”

Trevor left, leaving Patrina and I alone in the darkness.

 

“Patrina, why are you doing this?” I asked.

“Trevor didn’t want to lose his job,” she said, “but he couldn’t in good conscience work for a company that sells this crap.”

“Sure, but why do you want to go through with his?”

“I wanted to help him so he’d think I’m cool. Then, maybe he’d wanna go out with me.”

“You like this guy, I get that. But do you really think dog napping and holding a hostage inside a Crazy Topic storage closet is cool?”

“Whatever!” 

“That creep is a senior at your high school, right? If you let him get away with this, just think of what he’ll try to make you do next!”

Patrina looked down at her feet, about to cry.

“Do you have your phone on you?”

“No, sorry,” she whispered. “I left it at Trevor’s place so no one could know where we were.”

“I need you to go out there! Call the police and a priest STAT!”

***

​

Once the authorities determined that it was safe to go outside, everyone was escorted off the premises to avoid any patrons or employees getting possessed by evil spirits. Flappyface, Daisy and Parasol we're anxiously waiting outside on a patch of snow-covered grass between the road and the parking lot. After being dowsed in holy water, Grape was allowed to leave the storage closet. He circled the building, looking for his friends and sister.

“I am never going to the mall with a dead phone again,” he said, approaching them.

“Grape!” Called Daisy.

“Thank goodness you're okay,” said Parasol.

“Dude, what happened in there?” Flappyface asked.

“Some occult kid tried to sacrifice my soul to a demon to cleanse the Crazy Topic of Cobra Cat merch… With Patrina’s assistance.”

“Oh, that’s why Father Retriever showed up,” nodded Daisy.

“Wait, as in our cousin Patrina?!” Flappyface exclaimed.

“Yeah,” said Grape. “But I convinced her to call for help.”

“Dang,” said Daisy. “I knew people were mad, but that was certainly a unique form of protest.”

“So, how much progress did everyone make on their Christmas lists?” Parasol asked. “I got something for my mom, and that’s it.”

“I got nothing,” said Flappyface.

“Same here,” said Grape.

“Well, looks like the nest is going to be closed for at least a few more hours,” said Daisy. “Wanna check out another mall?”

“Sure,” said Flappyface.

 

Parasol pulled her brother aside. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m just glad it was me and not you,” said Grape. “What Mom said this morning kinda rubbed me the wrong way. I’m the oldest! I should be the one looking out for you! I know I’m an oblivious screw-up.”

“What, No?! You’re a creative, funny, and personable. Sure, if someone rote gullible on the ceiling, you’d look up, but-”

“Not appreciating the scathing review of my personality today, Pari.”

“But it's good to be trusting, so others will trust you. You got Patrina to confess to the priest. Let’s go to the other mall.”

“Pari, I appreciate your determination, but I’m tired,” said Grape. “I’m catching the first bus home.”

“You know what, I’m tired too,” said Parasol. “I’ll call Dad and see if he can pick us up.”