REMEDY

In a small town on the outskirts of New Orleans lies a little shop called Blooms' Cures and Remedies, known locally as Blooms' Remedies. For generations, it had stood at the corner of Martins and Finch, that even the oldest person in New Orleans, Mrs. Cramberry, at 117, could not remember when it even opened.

It was this very store that Miguel Raphael Jacob Jr was looking for.

He had heard from one of his sources that this store offered cures and remedies so potent and effective it was simply magic. Miguel was a skeptic, but it was desperation that made him fly all the way from Spain to New Orleans.

Miguel was dying, but he wanted to live.

He wasn't born with this strange illness; instead, it developed in his late twenties. He had gone to all the doctors and specialists money could buy, yet his sickness still prevailed. Now in his mid-thirties, he was close to giving up and had accepted his fate like a guilty man with a death sentence.

When one of the private detectives he hired to find a cure mentioned a tiny little shop in New Orleans, Louisiana. He was desperate and willing to try anything.

The sun was high in the sky, shining ever so brightly, which was rather old, as just this morning, it was raining and gloomy.

Miguel carried an umbrella nevertheless, just in case. He was always now in a state of constant worry and vigilance. Repeat health scares had seen to that.

He thrived in it, though. It was what had made him so successful — always waiting for the wall to crack, for peace to become war and success to failure.

From a distance, Miguel saw the Blooms' Remedies sign. Sighing to himself, he hoped this trip would prove fruitful and not just another dead end.

As he opened the door to Blooms' Remedies and stepped inside, he was immediately greeted by a soft voice, "Hello, I am Eloise, but you can call me Remedy. How can I help you today?"

Miguel turned to face the voice and saw a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties, beautiful with dark curly hair and eyes like fresh green leaves.

Her name was Remedy, and she works at in remedy shop? How quaint, thought Miguel.

"I'm looking for Ms. Eloise Bloom?"

"Yes? My name is Eloise Remedy Bloom. How can I help you?"

"I am sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I thought you'd be older."

"Oh, I see", chuckled Remedy, "you might be looking for my grandmother. She is also Eloise Bloom but with a Sarah in the middle."

"Oh, how nice."

"Well, she's not here, but if it's a remedy you are looking for, I can still be of assistance." offered Remedy.

Miguel hesitated. He was told that there was an old lady in New Orleans who ran a herbal shop. She was said to possess the healing touch. He wanted to speak directly to her, to save all the hassle. He was literally up against a ticking clock.

"I wish to speak to your grandmother. When can I?"

"She comes by the store in the evening. It is 2 pm now. You can try again later today, maybe?"

"Thank you; I will."

And with that, he turned to leave but was quickly halted by a soft voice.

"Are you sure I can't be of any help? I do know a lot about remedies as I mainly run this shop."

"Thank you for the offer, but I came to see your grandmother. I'm afraid only she can help me." He said as smiled and he gave her one last look and was gone.