Carmen’s Candles

It was a freezing February afternoon with a chance of thunder. Already the rain had cued, pelting the streets with sharp droplets. Bell chimes signified my presence when I yanked open the door, their soft calls delivered without a rowdy announcement. Wet soles squeaked against white tiles, a noise of discomfort. Warmth sank into my skin and thawed out my chills.

A steady serenity flooded my senses the moment I rushed inside, followed by a delicate fragrance I couldn't quite distinguish. Oddly enough, the tranquil aroma that hugged the store smelled something like dewdrops collected in a golden dawn or a garden of ripe roses-

"Hello," a woman of plump and stout stature chirped, cutting off my train of thought. With a smooth sidestep, she slipped away from one of the shelves she had been tending to and approached me. In bold cursive, the name tag attached to her orange shirt flashed CARMEN.

"Hello," I echoed back, though in a monotone that clashed with her sunny nature.

"Welcome to Carmen's Candles. As you already know, my name is Carmen," one of her hands rested against her chest, where her heart resided, "and I'm here to assist you. Would you like me to start by showing you around?"

"Okay."

"Great. Follow me."

With that, she turned her back, her ruby earrings winking at me. As I tailed behind her, mimicking her expert sense of direction, I soaked in the gathering of candles that had begun to crowd around us. Each jar, which was sealed tight with a metal cap, was color-coded an individual scent.

"Your name is Oscar, correct?" Carmen asked. "Just wanna make sure."

"It's Oscar," I confirmed.

"Good to know. I've been expecting you after contacting to you through email. We haven't spoken much about what kind of candle you'd like or your preferences, but we can work it out." While humming a foreign and soft melody, her manicured fingers crawled their way up to a jar. "Since this seems like your first time here, lemme introduce you to this candle. It's a popular classic." With a twist, she tugged the cap off and offered me a whiff. A pool of blue wax greeted me.

The second I inhaled, the salt of tears washed over me as black memories wormed their way inside the caliber of my mind. Scenes of me being raised behind iron bars and stone-faced scientists flashed before my eyes and swirled together to depict a watercolor canvas of the past.

A gasp shuddered from me as I jerked back.

"What was that?"

Carmen, who was unfazed by my reaction, pushed the cap back on. "Sorrow."

A frown wrinkled my brow. "Sorrow?"

"Sorrow. That's the name of the scent you smelled."

"Sorrow," I repeated, still numb with disbelief. "I smelled sorrow."

"Did you feel it?" she asked, an omniscient vibe hidden in her smile. "Did you live through sadness, even if for a second?"

A pair of wide eyes reflected back at her. I was speechless, unable to conduct a response for anything.

As if she expected my silence, she tucked the candle back in its original spot. "Perhaps you'll reconsider it later. Here, I'll show you another one." She grabbed a yellow-white jar, uncapped it, and thrust it in my face.

Sugar.

When I caught a sniff, I dove into an all-natural perfume known as sugar. Flashbacks of all-dessert picnics and visits at the local bakery came to life. Since my first time tasting them, I have always been enticed by sweets, and now the smell of cookies and cakes were a strong temptation I found difficult to resist.

"That one's joy," Carmen explained, once the yellow-white candle was sealed shut and the scent had worn off. "Joy is another classic that customers often purchase." As she promoted her products with practiced zeal, she switched out the candle of joy with a pale pink jar. "Now try this one."

Vanilla tickled my nostrils when I leaned in, and then a bomb of sparks exploded. Suddenly, a rose-colored filter of copper hair and starry freckles flickered in my mind. Honeyed laughter, her laughter, resonated within me and bounced around like a herd of untamed bubbles. A lopsided smile sat on my lips, snug and fit.

"Love," Carmen said, her voice a reminder of the reality I was in. "It's literally love in the air. Speaking of which, what's your relationship status?"

"Taken."

"You have a significant other." She quirked a brow up. "How are your terms with them so far?" Before I could speak, she interjected with a rapid-fire babble. "Do you still love them, or do you think it's time to break apart? Have they betrayed you? Have they cheated on you? Do you want revenge? I have the perfect product to fuel your vengeance if that's the case."

With that, she quickly swapped the candle of love out with a flaring red one. "This," she pried the jar open with a pop, as if it required strength to unleash the next scent, "is rage."

The second she freed rage, spices broke out around me and itched my nerves. Suddenly, the room temperature shot up and matched that of a smoky sauna. A series of raw memories, of daily experimentations and blank laboratories, pounded down on me like an avalanche of boulders. Lava scorched my neck and white spots invaded my vision—

A manicured claw shot out and squeezed my shoulder with a vice-like grip, snapping me back to rationality. All sense revived within me.

"You okay?" Carmen asked, her voice an anchor that steadied me.

Numbly, I nodded before clutching my head.

"Rage can encourage a person to carry out many actions," she resumed, quick to recover. As she glanced over me, she hid the candle of rage behind a candle of sorrow. "Some of them unspeakable." A finger pressed against smiling lips. "If you, as my customer, decide to purchase rage and it encourages you to act on unsavory actions, I am not responsible for anything. There's a contract on my website about this, which I'm sure you've already read before emailing me."

"I'm not looking for anything related to rage," I clarified, a hand raised in easy surrender.

"Good to know," she chirped. "Everyone has their different preferences."

As we browsed deeper behind the shop, my gaze swept back and forth until it landed on a black candle.

"That's a special edition," Carmen explained, mirroring my focus.

"Special edition?"

"Yes." Quickly, she swiped the candle off an individual rack and yanked the cap open, revealing a jar of concrete darkness.

Then, she inhaled.

In an instance, her features were blown wide. A crazed glaze awakened within latent eyes. Madness skittered up her arm to nestle into the crook between her neck and shoulders. Hysterical laughter followed, erupting from magenta lips in a bubbly, high-pitched stream.

I could only stare, disturbed by her transformation. "Ma'am, are you-"

"I'm fan-fucking-tastic, thank you for asking!" Carmen hooted, her head slanted to the right and posed crooked.

"Uh," I paused to think, "you seem to be, yes."

She squeezed both sides of the black jar and breathed in the scent for a second time. Funny jitters quaked her body and her left eye spazzed out with a sequence of twitches. "Hell yeah, this is the good shit right here!" She offered me the jar with shaky fingers, looking like she would shatter it at any given moment. "Want some?"

"No thanks. I don't think I want any of the 'good shit' right now."

"Right, right." A giggle burst from her, accompanied by slurred words. "That's cool, that's cool." With a clumsy spin, she twirled round like an impaired ballerina before sliding the candle back inside of its rack in all her drunken grace.

In bold caps lock, the title of the candle spelled out INSANITY.

“Oh," came my recognized response.

"Oh what now?" Carmen blinked, apparently stable again.

"I didn't think you had something like that in stock."

An impish grin carved her mouth. "You'd be surprised how much my shop has to offer." One of her brows lifted. "Are you interested in getting high off insanity? Don't you wanna let loose and go bonkers for an hour or two? Though again, I am not responsible for whatever actions you commit under the influence of this," she coughed, "special edition."

"No thanks, I'm drug free."

"Suit yourself."

"All of these scents are nice," I said, halting to a brake alongside her, "but I'm hoping to purchase a candle that can be burned after a day's work. Perhaps a candle that can relieve stress."

Like Christmas lights on a winter evening, Carmen lit up. "I have just the thing for that."

With a giddy twirl and a snap of her fingers, she reversed her steps and led me up in the front, where a lone candle stood shining beside the cash register. Three baby flames floated atop a circle of liquid orange, assisted by a triangle of wicks.

"This is it," she declared, the roundness in her voice punctuated with a satisfied note. She gestured to the lone candle. "This is the candle you're looking for."

The word calm whispered to me when I studied the orange jar. Its angelic glow offered a fragrance familiar from my entrance here, resembling something like dew drops collected in a golden dawn or a garden of ripe roses-

"I'll take it," were the words that left my mouth.

"Perfect!"

I slid her my card. A soft hum vibrated from Carmen's lips as she charged the card. She tore off a newly printed receipt, snatched up a pen, and shoved them onto the wooden countertop.

"Sign here," she instructed, her magenta acrylics outlining the bottom of the receipt.

As I scribbled my signature onto the slip of paper, she packed my candle of calm into a brown bag.

"Thank you for making a purchase at Carmen's Candles," she chirped, as if she's rehearsed the line hundreds of times in the mirror every morning. "Please come again."

I nodded, with the bag in hand, before making my departure.

~*~*~

My girlfriend Sierra and I entered the cabin with soft smiles after a heavy trip from the grocery store, enchanted by the rosy ambience that embraced our home.

“Wow," Sierra exhaled, outstretching her arms wide. Then, in a grand gesture, she twirled round and round, the hem of her skirt fluttering about. "This new candle works miracles!"

All of the groceries floated behind us and migrated to the kitchen according to my command. When the last bag swooped in, the door closed on its own. The psychic energy buzzing within me faded off, leaving me to rest from my power for the time being.

Sierra and I both settled in the living room couch, where the candle was lit on a coffee table. The stress-free aura it emanated could melt any tensions with a delicate roast in the air.

"Where'd you even get this?" Sierra inquired, examining the orange jar with wide amber eyes. "It's almost like magic."

"It is."

Wonder brightened her features. "Really?"

“I got it from a witch's shop."

"Huh. Go figure that this isn't legal."

Items produced from black magic were typically not showcased to the public. Any consumer goods that were an outcome of such magic were dubbed to be apart of an underground market shrouded in mystery.

Sierra snorted. "Not that I care whether it's legal or not, as long as it benefits me it should be fine."

I raised a brow at that. "You are a cyborg who occasionally teams up with law enforcements in missions that require your assistance."

"Pft, that doesn't mean I agree with all of the policies the law has to offer."

"Interesting."

She shrugged. "What can I say? I'm selfish."

"I am too. We can be selfish together."

With that, Sierra's laughter delivered within the cabin like a song. And for the rest of our night, we spent Valentine's Day cooking, baking, and dining in a turkey feast and cupcakes galore.