Chapter Text
“There you go, Hilary,” Zelda said soothingly as she carefully reached towards the guinea pig, giving her an affectionate head scratch that only lasted a second before the animal ducked away and scuttled off towards her freshly filled drinking bottle.
Hilary was one of the more... fussier residents of Spellman Sanctuary. Although Zelda filled her cage with fresh water every morning, the Peruvian guinea pig refused to drink anything more than a day old. Zelda watched the rodent for a moment before sealing up her cage, double-checking that the latches were secure. On top of being fussy, Hilary was crafty, and the last thing Zelda needed was a fussy, crafty, and slightly grumpy old ball of fluff at large, especially on the day that a dozen children were expected to roam around the place.
Zelda straightened up and ran a hand over the side of her face, capturing some strands of hair that escaped from her ponytail during her rigorous early morning cleaning. She tucked her hair behind her ear and surveyed her surroundings one last time, checking to see that everything was as it should be.
The area that Zelda found herself in was no bigger than a convenience store, kitted out with a reception area against the wall next to the door, closely followed by a humble shelf filled with pet food and an array of toys. There were other items too; collars, beds, scratch posts, and the likesー all handcrafted by Zelda and the rest of the Spellmans. The items on the shelves were normal run-of-the-mill pet shop items (with the exception that they were made with love, as Hilda liked to say), but despite the items they stocked, Spellman Sanctuary wasn’t a pet shop.
It used to be a pet shop onceー before Zelda came to own it, and in some ways, it still functioned as one. They had a handful of loyal customers that opted to buy Hilda’s homemade dog treats or the local brand of food they supplied, even though similar items could be acquired at the supermarket down the road. Despite the items for sale, and the fee one had to pay before leaving with any of the animals, Spellman Sanctuary mainly functioned as a shelterー or a sanctuary as it said on the weather-worn sign above the door. A safe space for animals who didn’t have homes.
Unwanted or unplanned kittens got dropped off once every blue moon, the residents of Greendale ashamedly placing cardboard boxes filled with tiny crying felines on the reception desk, prompting Zelda to give a stern lecture about the importance of sterilizing one’s animals. Sometimes adult cats, bought by unwitting owners who suddenly developed red and watery eyes or rashes, were plopped onto the counter and only given a series of violent sneezes as a goodbye. These instances were as rare as they were unfortunate, but Zelda usually sent the poor souls off with another animal that needed a home.
Runaway dogs, some coming from as far as Riverdale and other surrounding towns, usually found their way into Zelda’s care too. Sometimes their owners came looking for them. Sometimes they found new owners. Other times, on rare occasions, pregnant dogs would find their way to Zelda, like the basset hound that Joe Putnam found roaming around his farm months ago. Left with no choice, Zelda would have to accept the responsibility of caring for a litter of puppies in the coming months too, despite the enormous dent it would put in the Sanctuary’s bank account.
Dogs and cats were not the only creatures that the sanctuary housed. There were rodents, like the aforementioned Hilary. Leviathan the mouse scurried around in the cage next door to Hillary, a handful of his family members snoozing beside him, burrowed underneath their wood shavings.
There were the more unusual animals too. A large iguana lived in a tank that took up a substantial portion of the back wall. Zelda had little experience with caring for reptiles, but after Mr. and Mrs. Kemper dropped off their late son’s pet, she had to learn. At first she was skittish of the large lizard, but she quickly learned that as long as he had a UVB and heat light to bathe in during the day, and a large array of leafy greens and fruit to chomp on, he was happy and practically harmless. Despite that knowledge, Zelda still walked over to his enclosure to tug on the lock. He might have appeared to be lazy and docile, but Zelda knew that one wrong move from a child could result in nasty scratches or even bites.
The sanctuary truly was a mixed batch, a crazy halfway house, and on bad days a terrible headache, but Zelda wouldn’t have it any other way.
As Zelda observed the iguana through his glass cage, the faint sounds of shouting could be heard in the distance, followed by the low hum of excited chatter. The youthful voices grew louder and more excited as laughter floated in through the open windows.
The bell above the front door let out a pleasant jingle as Zelda pushed it open. Leaning against the doorway, she watched as about a dozen children walked along the sidewalk, led by a woman close to Zelda’s age. The teacher, Miss Jackson, had a hard time keeping the children from running when they noticed Zelda, and even though Shirley admonished them, some of them still skipped the last couple of steps to Zelda’s open door.
Every term, the kindergarten class of Greendale Elementary would make the trek from a couple of blocks away to visit Spellman Sanctuary. It was a longstanding agreement, one that started back when Sabrina was in kindergarten. Under Zelda’s and Shirley’s watch, the children would spend an hour or two helping with simple tasks like cleaning enclosures, filling food dishes, and petting whatever dogs or cats Zelda had in the back of the building, while simultaneously learning about the animals and how to properly care for them. Occasionally, and if the dogs in her care were well behaved on a lead, Zelda allowed the children to take the pooches to the park, where they’d take turns in walking the dogs on the grass.
It was a great program, one that was commended by teachers and parents alike, and over the years Zelda found herself looking forward to the end of each term. Educating the young minds of Greendale was fulfilling in a special way, and Zelda knew that this hands-on approach would in turn help enlighten their families too.
“Shirley,” Zelda greeted politely as the woman came to a stop before her.
“Good morning, Zelda. I’m guessing you’re all ready for us?”
Behind Shirley, her class had lined up in a neat single-file line against the window of the shelter. Given that it was the last couple of weeks before summer break, and thus this particular group’s last visit with Zelda, they knew the drill. They looked up expectantly at her, waiting with surprising patience as she stepped out of the shop to stand before the children.
“Good morning, guys,” Zelda said brightly.
She was immediately greeted with a mismatched singsong of ‘Good morning, Miss Zelda!’ and ‘Good morning, Miss Spellman!’
“I am so happy to see you all this morning,” she continued, letting her eyes drift over the six-year-olds. At the far end of the line, she noticed an unfamiliar face. A boy with dark brown hair. She smiled at him before continuing. “I have a very special surprise today. If all our chores are done in time, and everybody behaves, I’ll show the newest addition to the Sanctuary.” Zelda paused for effect. “Puppies!”
The children let out a collective gasp, some clutching their chests or turning to their friends with wide eyes. Zelda laughed at their reaction and even caught Shirly smiling fondly as she shook her head.
“Alright children. I’m sure you all remember the rules. No running inside the shop, no touching any of the animals, or opening their enclosures without permission. Use your inside voices please, and above all listen very, very carefully to Miss Spellman’s instructions. Does everybody understand?”
“Yes, Miss Jackson!” the children answered in unison.
The children were, as always, thrilled to be let loose inside. Let loose being used mildly. They walked briskly, thankfully abiding by the rules set up upon their visit when the school year started. Nothing had changed since their last visit. The walls were still a dull grey (which really needed a repainting, Zelda reminded herself) and all the enclosures were still in the same spot. To the children, of course, it was like stepping into a miniature animal kingdom. They gasped once more when they crossed the threshold and pointed towards their favorite animals.
“So, kids,” Zelda started as she closed the door behind them. “Today we’re going to start with the simplest but most important task; giving our animals fresh water!”
There were cheers and then suddenly ー silence. One of Shirley’s famous stares reigned down upon the kids and their mouths snapped shut. “Inside voices, children,” she said as she handed Zelda a thin stack of documents.
“Yes, Miss Shirley!” They chorused quietly.
Zelda quickly signed the forms, stating that should any injuries occur, Spellman Sanctuary could not be held liable. She knew the children’s names by heart, and recognized them all as she signed in allocated spaces, but the form at the bottom of the stack held a new name: Adam.
Zelda smiled as she looked over to where the newest addition to the class stood. He still hovered towards the back of the group, his eyes drifting across the room curiously.
“Oh yes,” Shirley began as she followed Zelda’s eyes. She stepped closer to collect the signed forms before continuing in a lower voice. “I meant to tell you of our newest addition. He transferred a little over a month ago, but he’s still awfully quiet.”
Zelda nodded and made a mental note to try to make him feel included. It couldn’t be easy to join a new school this late in the school year.
It was easy to delegate the children after that. Shirley might’ve come across as a strict teacher, but over the years Zelda had come to learn there was no real malice behind her glares or stern voice. Instead, she did what few others did. Year after year she produced the best-behaved class in Greendale Elementary. Every child was friendly and extremely well-mannered, and a lot of that was down to Shirley and her teaching methods.
The children each took turns to empty the water containers and dishes into an empty bucket, before filling them with fresh water from another bucket. One at a time the children placed the fresh water in the cages, with the exception of Hilary, who merely watched the commotion from inside her hide house. After that, Zelda proceeded to help them top of the dry kibble where needed, and then the bravest of girls helped her place fresh green leaves into the iguana’s dish.
Some enclosures needed cleaning, like the parakeet’s cage. Zelda let the bird perch on her finger as Shirley helped a pair of boys to lay fresh newspaper at the bottom of the cage. As the bird chirped happily, Zelda looked over the enclosures once more. There wasn’t much else for the children to do other than feed the fish.
“Miss Spellman,” one girl asked as she walked forward to pet the parakeet. “Didn’t you say you had puppies?”
“Yes, she did!” a handful of children insisted immediately, while others nodded their agreement.
Zelda couldn’t help but laugh with twelve pairs of eyes trained on her. Thirteen if she counted Shirley, who looked equally expectant.
“I did, didn’t I.” Zelda carefully placed the parakeet back in its cage, latching the door shut before wiping her hands on the green apron she had around her neck. “Give me two seconds to see if they’re awake first, okay?”
Leaving the children under Shirley’s watch, Zelda walked to the door next to the iguana’s cage and pushed it open with her shoulder, disappearing into the back room of Spellman Sanctuary.
The space wasn’t very large, basically just a rectangle with another door leading to a small bathroom, but Zelda made it work by splitting it into two. The right side held a modest kitchen, with a microwave and a kettle on top of a small work surface. There was a sink as well, and above it, the wall was lined with a cupboard filled with various teas and the like. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough for Zelda and her part-time colleague, Marie to warm up their lunches or prepare coffee.
There was a tiny desk as well for Zelda to do any work that she needed, or place stock orders, and a small couch with faded brown leather served as a room divider, dividing the kitchen area from the largest part of the room.
To the left, there were an array of cages, like the ones one would expect at a veterinary. This is where homeless cats or dogs would spend their time. Zelda tried her best to make the small spaces homey, filling them with blankets and toys. Zelda found these cramped spaces to be cruel, so whenever they were occupied, and if the animals were socialized enough (and spayed) she’d let them roam the back freely while she or Marie manned the front.
It was a circus sometimesー especially if there was a sudden influx of animalsー and Zelda was certain that some professionals might frown upon the practice, but throughout the years she found it worked wonders to keep the animals happy until they were adopted.
Today, all the cages were empty except for one. Right at the bottom, atop a bed of blankets, laid a proud momma basset hound, the very same one that Mr. Putnam had brought in months ago. Next to her, her pups were happily nursing, their tummies round with milk.
Zelda walked over to check on them but decided not to disturb them. None of them bothered to look up, and Zelda merely patted the mother on the head gently as she readied herself to break the disappointing news to the children. She never let the kids enter this area of the sanctuary, but perhaps an exception could be made for this class. She had promised, after all.
Just as Zelda meant to stand up, she noticed something. A pup was missing. One, two, three, four, five... she counted in her head. One was missing, and it seemed like it was the tiniest one of the litter. He couldn’t have gone far on his still slightly wobbly legs.
“I’ll bring him back,” she whispered to the mom, who only blinked in response.
And then Zelda heard it. A... giggle? She stood up and listened carefully. There it was again, coming from the kitchen area. Silently, she made her way to the couch and leaned over the back. Much to her surprise, she made eye contact with the bluest pair of eyes she ever saw.
“Please don’t be mad,” the boy whispered fearfully.
It was the new boy, Adam. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, and in his arms was the missing basset pup. The puppy’s tail was wagging, and he was desperately trying to inch closer to the boy’s face, likely what caused the previous giggles.
“I didn’t take him out of his cage, I promise!” The boy continued, eyes wide. “He was already out and I justー I just wanted to say hello.”
Zelda rounded the couch and lowered herself to her haunches once more, ignoring the way her joints complained at the motion.
“That’s okay,” Zelda said gently. Adam immediately tried to hand the puppy over to Zelda, but she shook her head. “You can hold on to him for now. I was actually coming to see if any of them were awake.”
The boy cradled the dog back against his chest. Zelda wondered how Adam sneaked through the door with no one noticing, but she decided not to quiz him, knowing that Shirley would give him a stern talking too. Besides, the boy seemed genuinely apologetic.
“You’re Adam, right?” The boy nodded. “I’m Zelda, and this here is Vinegar Tom.” Zelda reached out to pet the puppy, and he immediately started nibbling on her fingers. “He’s my secret favorite,” Zelda lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Don’t tell the others.”
She winked and Adam broke into a shy smile.“Come on, what do you say we introduce Vinegar Tom to your classmates?”
The rest of Adam’s class was sitting cross-legged on the floor, patiently waiting. They gasped and cooed when Zelda led Adam out with the dog still resting happily in his arms. Shirley shot Adam a look, but he barely seemed to care as he gently lowered himself onto the floor before encouraging Vinegar Tom to get off his lap.
“How did he get in there?” Shirley whispered to Zelda as they watched Adam introduce Vinegar Tom to his classmates.
“I asked him to help me,” Zelda lied smoothly. Shirley narrowed her eyes, but before she could respond, Zelda clapped her hands together once and strode towards the kids. “Now who can tell me what breed of dog this is?”
***
Zelda didn’t expect to see Adam again. At least not so soon after his class’s visit, and certainly not at the Sanctuary. That same week, as another quiet Friday drew to a close, the bell above the door jingled. Zelda straightened up from where she was lounging behind the reception and put her book aside, just in time to see Adam bound into the place, followed by a slightly less excited-looking woman.
The woman in question was, simply put, breathtaking.
Dark curls framed her face, bouncing with every step she took. Her heels clicked on the laminated floor, and when she came to a stop next to her son and removed her dark sunglasses, Zelda found her previous statement about Adam’s eyes to be false. This woman had the bluest eyes Zelda ever saw, only intensified by the smoky eyeshadow blended across her eyelids. Her lips were painted a dark red, matching the blouse that she had tucked into a black pencil skirt.
Zelda found herself momentarily stunned into silence, and the well-practiced, warm greeting that she reserved for potential customers died on her lips. Somewhere at the back of Zelda’s mind, she knew she was living through a cliché worthy of one of Hilda’s romance novels, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. The woman met Zelda’s outright stare and tilted her head inquisitively.
Adam was the one to break the trance. “Miss Zelda! We’re here to see Vinegar Tom!”
Zelda tore her gaze away from the woman to find the boy standing on his tippy toes as he tried to see over the reception desk. He was slightly out of breath, but a smile lit up his face.
“Is that so?” Zelda asked with a smile of her own, pulling herself together.
“My son has been begging me since Monday to see this Tom dog.” The woman placed one hand on Adam’s shoulder but made no move to introduce herself.
“Vinegar Tom, mom,” Adam corrected. “Can we see him, please, Miss Zelda?”
“I can’t see why not,” Zelda announced as she moved out from behind the desk. “Would you like me to bring him out?” Adam looked up at his mother for permission before nodding. “I’ll just be a minute then.”
Simply visiting an animal wasn’t an outlandish request, but not one that Zelda received often. Yet, there was no harm in it. Vinegar Tom looked up from where he was lounging next to his siblings the moment Zelda entered the back room, his tail wagging excitedly.
Perhaps it was unfair to the other puppies, seeing as they all deserved special attention, but Zelda didn’t plan on making a habit of it. She carefully scooped the chosen pup up in her arms, scratching his head as she walked back out.
“Vinegar Tom!” Adam exclaimed. He abandoned his mother next to the fish tank they were inspecting and ran over.
Zelda couldn’t help but smile at how gently he took the dog from her before turning to show his mother. Zelda was relieved to see the woman offer a small smile as she reached out to pet the dog.
Vinegar Tom wiggled around in Adam’s arms, his tongue lapping the air as he tried to lick the boy’s face. “Isn’t he so cute!” Adam giggled as he sank down to the floor, gently scratching the dog’s ears.
“I’m sorry about that,” the woman piped up as she walked past her son and leaned against the reception. “He couldn’t stop talking about this place, and especially this dog.”
“It’s no trouble,” Zelda assured the woman. “He’s good with animals. Gentle. Most kids his age don’t understand how fragile puppies are.”
“Mom!” Adam exclaimed again through a giggle. “Did you know Vinegar Tom has a really good nose? Miss Zelda told us so!”
The woman shook her head and smiled fondly. “Yes, Adam, you’ve told me about Vinegar Tom’s spectacular nose about twenty times this week.”
“That bad huh?” Zelda asked.
“You have no idea.” The woman rolled her eyes. “All day, every day, I’ve heard about the fantastic Miss Zelda and her animals. It’s literally all he’s been speaking about. I guess I had to see what all the fuss was about.”
The woman smirked at Zelda and despite the sudden blood that rushed to her face, Zelda managed to smile back too.
Another set of giggles echoed through the shop as Adam reclined onto his back with Vinegar Tom attacking him with sloppy kisses. “Look mommy, he loves me! Can we take him home?”
“Oh dear,” the woman muttered before pushing herself away from the reception desk and walking towards her son. “I’m sure he loves you too, honey, but we can’t take him. He belongs to Miss Zelda.”
Adam pushed himself upright, cradling Vinegar Tom in his lap again. “Miss Zelda said he needed a home. They all do,” he said seriously.
The woman shot Zelda a look, a silent plea for help.
“I did say that,” Zelda began slowly, trying to figure out how to get them out of the conundrum “but they’re all still way too young. Remember how I said they still needed to stay with their mommy dog until they’re big and strong?”
“So, when he's big and strong, then can we take him home?” Adam asked again.
“No, Adam,” the woman said sternly. “We’re not getting a dog.”
Adam pushed his bottom lip out and produced a set of puppy dog eyes that shamed even Vinegar Tom. “Please?”
“I said no.”
That did it. Adam’s lip trembled, and a sniffle followed soon after. Despite her restrictive skirt, the woman sank to her knees and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Mommy knows you like this dog, but we can’t take him home. Please try to understand, honey. It’s not the right time yet. Maybe someday soon, once we’re settled here, I’ll get you one. Just not now.”
“I don't want just any dog,” Adam said in a voice so small that it tugged at Zelda’s heartstrings. “I want him.” His voice cracked and guilt flooded Zelda. Somehow she felt responsible.
The woman pulled Adam into her chest and hugged him tightly. “Say goodbye to Vinegar Tom. We can visit him again if you behave, but we’re not taking him home.”
Despite feeling as if she was intruding on a private family moment, Zelda was impressed with the firm, yet gentle approach the woman took with her son. Zelda knew from experience that if she was in a similar position, she’d cave. That’s how Sabrina ended up with Salem. A little pout and a few drops of tears was all it took for Zelda to bring the damned cat home all those years ago.
“Give him a hug and say goodbye,” the woman reiterated, “and say thank you to Miss Zelda for letting you play with him.”
“Thank you, Miss Zelda,” Adam mumbled without meeting Zelda’s eyes.
“I’m terribly sorry,” the woman said softly as she handed the puppy back to Zelda. Adam remained on the floor, staring into space despondently.
“It’s okay. It happens.”
Zelda half expected the mother and son to be gone by the time she returned Vinegar Tom to the back. Instead, Adam was standing in front of one of the fish tanks again, his face almost pushed up against the glass.
“He wants a goldfish now.” The woman sighed before walking back to the reception. “They’re not easy to kill, right?”
Zelda had to laugh at that. “No, you guys should manage to keep a goldfish alive just fine.”
By the time the sun started setting, Adam was once again balancing on his toes in front of the reception as his mother paid for their newest family member, a small glass tank, some gravel, and food.
“What are you gonna name him?” Zelda asked as she waited for Lilith to fill in the necessary adoption papers. It seemed rather silly for her to fill in the forms since it was just goldfish, but Zelda liked her admin to be done properly.
Adam peered through the plastic bag and watched as the goldfish swam through the water. He lowered the bag after a moment’s contemplation. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll tell you next time we come to visit.”
Zelda bit her lip and the woman exhaled loudly through her nose as she pushed the clipboard back over the counter.
“Thank you,” she said as she carefully lifted the tank into her arms. “And sorry again for the temper tantrum.”
Zelda smiled reassuringly as she moved to open the door for them. “It’s perfectly fine. And if you have any issues with the fish, you know where to find me.”
“Will do,” the woman said as she repositioned the fish tank to one arm. “Adam, what do we say?”
“Thank you, Miss Zelda,” he said with a small, albeit still a sad, smile.
“No, thank you, young man.” Zelda lowered herself to his level. “You and your mom have been my favorite customers today. Have fun with your new friend.”
Zelda leaned against the doorframe and watched as mother and son walked down the street. When they reached a stop street, Adam paused and turned to wave at Zelda. She returned the wave and chuckled before heading back inside, closing the door behind her. She turned the sign that hung on the door, indicating that the sanctuary was closed for the day.
After a quick check-up on the puppies, Zelda could head home for the night. On her way to the back, she grabbed the clipboard and tore off the newly completed adoption papers, ready to leave it on the desk for Sabrina to file over the weekend. As she did so, her eyes landed on the ‘pet parent’ details.
There was a local Greendale address, and a couple of contact details, but what caught Zelda’s eye was the name.
Lilith.
No surname. Just Lilith. Zelda let the name roll over her tongue as she dimmed the main lights and headed to the back.
She had a feeling that she hadn’t seen the last of Lilith and her son.