Dr. Oracular’s House of Wonders

The bell atop the door jingled and the smell of patchouli incense greeted Tim Wayford as he stepped inside Dr. Oracular’s House of Wonders.

         It was a cramped, cluttered curio shop fashioned from an old, one-story house. The outside was painted (poorly) black, while the inside featured all manner of oddities, mostly crafted or curated by the supernatural avant garde community and placed haphazardly throughout the store.

         A group of small Mason jars filled with a gold-colored substance were situated front and center on the main counter, each with a piece of masking tape slapped on their lids with the words “GHOST GOO” written on them in permanent marker.

         Behind the counter – taking up the entire back wall – were troll dolls of various sizes and hairstyles. What made these novelty items different is the glass eyes common in most had been replaced by eyeballs that seemed particularly large – and particularly human.

         It was creepy, but creepy was what Tim was looking for.

         His best friend, Burton, had long been fascinated by the occult, and had acquired quite a few oddities of his own. Surely, he had already been to Dr. Oracular’s House of Wonders; Tim figured it might be the only place he could’ve gotten a vintage Ouija Board from the early 1900s.

         But Burton had a wedding coming up in two weeks, and Tim wanted to find a fun gag gift to give him during the bachelor party set for Saturday night.

         As Tim picked up one of the Mason jars, a young woman emerged from the back of the store, dressed in black from head to toe – complemented by black lipstick and heavy black eyeliner. The only other color aside from her alabaster skin was a long orange streak that seemed to be painted down the left side of her raven hair.

         “Dr. Oracular, I presume?” Tim said with a smile.

         “Afraid not,” she said, forcing a slight grin. “Name’s Tara, but I’m sure I can answer any questions you might have for the good doctor.”

         “I’m sure you can,” Tim said. “Really, I’m just looking for a gag gift for a buddy of mine. He’s into this kind of stuff and I thought maybe you could steer me towards something that’s small and inexpensive and neat.”

         Tara gave Tim a puzzled look.

         “Yeah,” she said. “We don’t really do gag gifts here. It is, after all, a house of wonders.”

         Tim slowly looked around at the array of products, and then picked up a jar of Ghost Goo.

         “Seriously?” he said. “I mean, I’m not trying to be insulting, but how could something called Ghost Goo not be a gag gift? I’m pretty sure if I opened it up and poured it on a biscuit, it’d taste a lot like honey.”

         Tara snatched the jar away from Tim and placed it back on the counter.

         “Once you buy it, you can do whatever you like with it,” she said. “But if you open the jar, you break the seal. You break the seal, then you cast the spell. And once you cast the spell, you’ve made the purchase, and whatever happens after that is none of my concern or the concern of Dr. Oracular.”

         Tim shook his head.

         “OK,” he said. “I’ll play along. This stuff has magical powers, which is why it costs $25. But it looks like honey … and I can get a jar of honey for about six bucks. So, I could take the label off, write “Ghost Goo” across the top, and my friend would never know the difference.”

         Tara looked at the floor and fidgeted.

         “Oh, he’d know the difference,” she said. “And if he didn’t when you gave it to him, he’d find out quickly. I know Burton … he’s been a patron of ours for years. He’s a serious person, and he takes what we do here quite seriously.”

         Tim sighed and pointed at the trolls.

         “How much is one of those?” he asked.

         “Two hundred dollars,” Tara said.

         Tim’s eyes widened. “Shit … you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he said, almost shouting.  “What’s the cheapest … sorry … what’s the least expensive item you have for sale?”

         Tara placed her hand on a jar of Ghost Goo and pushed it toward Tim.

         “This is it,” she said. “It’s $25. But I tell you what, since you’re new to our shop I’ll sell it to you for $17.50. I’ll even put it in one of our cool little Dr. Oracular’s House of Wonders gift bags and FedEx a certificate of authenticity, signed by Oracular himself with a personalized message. When he comes back in, I’ll have him do it right away and get it to you no later than tomorrow.”

         Tara produced a piece of paper and pen.

         “Just write your address down and I’ll have it sent to you.”

         Tim threw up his hands before leaning over and hurriedly writing down his information. “All right,” he said, reaching for his billfold. “Here’s a 20 – just keep the change. I guess if knows I got it from here it’ll mean something to him.”

         Tara quickly bagged the Ghost Goo and placed it in the bag. “Thank you,” she said. “All of us at Dr. Oracular’s House of Wonders appreciate your business.”

         Tim took the bag, turned toward the door, and pushed it open, exiting the shop with a half-hearted wave. Tara watched him get into his car and drive away.

         “He’s gone, Doc,” she said, glancing back at the storage room.

         Dr. Oracular – a small, round man with a cheap hairpiece and red horn-rimmed glasses – trundled toward the counter.

“Glad you got rid of another jar of honey,” he said, looking at Tara. “I’d have gone as low as 10, so you did well by convincing him to fork over a 20. Say … did you get a look at his eyes, by any chance?”

         Tara gave the thumbs up.

         “Yep … they were blue,” she said.  

    Dr. Oracular glanced at the troll dolls and started taking inventory.

“Wait about an hour and then go to his house,” Dr. Oracular said. “The toxins on the gift bag should’ve taken effect by then, and you’ll be able to do some harvesting. We have a new shipment of dolls coming in, and we’re low on blue eyeballs.”