Witches vs. Aliens

by Raven Snow

  Tina hesitated, staring at Rowen with a blank expression until she finally shrugged. “Oh, it’s all right. I don’t mind being here.”

  “Well, I do. I’m pretty sure just about everyone here isn’t thrilled about working today. You don’t have to try so hard to make us like you, you know? We all consider you a friend of the family now… Well, except Peony. I guess she thinks of you as a little bit more than that. Either way, though, we like you. That goes for Lydia and Nadine as well. I know I’ve probably mentioned it a million times by now, but they’d be thrilled to know that you and Peony were an item. Not that you need to hurry up and announce that to the world or anything. That part is your business, obviously. I just mean, they like you right now too. It would take a lot for them to change their minds.”

  Tina’s smile wavered. Finally, she dropped it. “I’m really mad at Peony for dragging me here,” she sighed, sounding exhausted. “I wish she had asked me before, you know, just saying that I would come. I was kind of hoping I would have the day off.”

  Rowen nodded, thinking back to how she had woken up this morning. “You and me both.”

  ***

  The day felt like it stretched on for ages. At long last the sun began to set. The streets miraculously cleared after that. It was with a sigh of relief that Lydia was finally able to shut the door again. “I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to handle another day like that. I’m getting too old for this.”

  “At least we did a lot of business,” said Nadine, putting on a smile that didn’t last long. It seemed to require more energy than she actually had.

  “She’s talking sense, Lydia. You have to think of the bottom line. We can always hire on more help if things stay like this… Speaking of which…” Norm paused in the middle of counting the till. He stacked some twenties on the table and offered them to Tina. “Thanks for the help today. If you feel like coming tomorrow, we’ll pay you for your time then too.”

  Tina wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were glued to the portrait above the register. It was a painting Peony had done. The subject was a naked Tina. Thankfully, you couldn’t really make out her face in the painting.

  “Hey,” Norm said, waving the money to try and get her attention.

  Tina’s eyes snapped to Norm. “Hm? Oh, thanks.” At least it seemed like she had taken what Rowen had told her to heart. She wasn’t just aiming to please anymore. She deserved that money and then some. If she was smart, she would refuse to come tomorrow. “Are you guys going to that meeting tonight?” Tina asked the room as she shoved her earnings into her purse.

  “Meeting?” Norm repeated. He looked to his sisters, like they might know what Tina was talking about.

  “I don’t know about any meeting,” said Nadine.

  Lydia looked to Tina. “What meeting are you talking about?”

  Tina looked from face to face, a little flustered. She had been put on the spot. It seemed very much like she wanted to take all she had just said back. She shrugged. “I probably misheard or something.”

  “Misheard what, Dear?” Lydia prompted. She wasn’t one to let stories go untold.

  At this point, Tina must have realized that there was no way out of explaining herself. “Like I said, I probably just misheard. I was down at the general store this morning. They were talking about having a little get together after nightfall, when everyone would be heading back out into nature to try and spot a UFO.”

  “What are they having a meeting about?” asked Nadine.

  “Business, I guess?” Tina shrugged. “I’m not even sure that they are having a meeting. I mean, they would probably have told you if they were still planning on it.”

  Lydia swore under her breath. Norm did the same and went back to his counting. Nadine looked to Tina who was frowning, like she was trying to gauge what it was she had done wrong. “They might not have included us on purpose.”

  “Might?” Norm repeated with a mirthless laugh. “They definitely aren’t including us on purpose. And you know what? That’s just fine with me.”

  Lydia nodded in agreement. “We did more business than all of them combined. Let them put that in their pipe and smoke it.”

  Rowen didn’t point out that the fact that they were doing so much business was problematic. She wasn’t sure how long they could keep this up.

  ***

  It was a miracle that Rowen managed to get out of the store with Eric in tow when she did. They wouldn’t even need to hurry home in order to catch Margo on television. She hadn’t used the TV to watch something on the internet in a while, but she could figure it out. Rowen was just starting the engine when her phone rang. Letting go of the gearshift, Rowen reached into the back and wrestled the phone from her purse. Speak of the devil. It was Margo calling.

  “I’m headed home to watch you now,” Rowen assured her, hoping that was all she had called for. Somehow Rowen doubted that was the case.

  “Can you come here instead?” Margo asked, speaking quickly.

  Rowen suppressed a groan. “What? Why?”

  “Well, I need you to stop by my house first. I need my makeup bag. Jasper was supposed to bring it to me, but he flaked out. I don’t know why. He isn’t even answering my calls.”

  “Don’t they have makeup there?” Rowen imagined they had someone on standby to make folks camera ready.

  “Oh, they do, but it’s just awful— I’m sorry, Dear, but it is. It’s awful. This foundation is all wrong. I look like a dandelion.” There were some flustered, tearful noises in the background before Margo addressed Rowen again. “My travel kit is on my vanity in the master bedroom. You can’t miss it. Please hurry.”

  Rowen began to object, but Margo had already hung up. Rowen gave a sigh of defeat before turning to Eric. “Looks like there’s a change of plans. We’re going to the campground.”

  ***

  Margo lived in a trailer on the Greensmith’s land. All the talk of a house and a master bedroom had undoubtedly been for show. Rowen did find the makeup bag easily enough, but she found it on the nightstand in the trailer’s only bedroom. She hurried back to the car with it as fast as she could. Eric was driving and, thankfully, the roads were clear. There was no telling how traffic would be down at the camping ground. That was why Eric was driving. Worst case scenario he could let her hop out of the car and let her run and hand the makeup over to Margo.

  There wasn’t really a place to park near the campground, not one that Rowen could see anyway. “Go on,” said Eric, slowing to a stop near the mouth of the camping ground. “I’ll drive around or find a shopping center to park in or something. Call me when you’re done.” The way he said all that seemed to imply that he expected Rowen to be gone a while. Rowen hadn’t given the matter much thought, but now she realized he was probably right. She wouldn’t be able to rush home in time to catch Margo’s interview now.

  Rowen nodded and pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “If I’m longer than twenty minutes, feel free to go home without me. I’ll catch a ride home with Margo. She owes me after this.”

  “Well, give me a call first. Let me know you’re okay.”

  “Will do.” Rowen scrambled out of the car and jogged into the campground, the contents of Margo’s makeup bag clattering about with each footfall. It wasn’t difficult to spot WNT. A ways in, they had a big van emblazoned with their acronym and the smiling face of a freckled, red haired woman holding a microphone. There was a stage of sorts set up behind the van. Behind that there were several trailers. One was labeled office; another had the name Irene Jones on the door. There was a third that said it was makeup and costumes. The lights were on inside. Rowen could see glimpses of people walking past the windows. She tried that trailer first.

  She had only gotten one foot on the bottom most stair when someone stopped her. “Excuse me,” said a broad shouldered man in black. “You’re not allowed in there.”

  “It’s all right,” Rowen assured him. “I’m Rowen Greensmith. My cousin called me to br
ing her some makeup from home.”

  The security guy didn’t look like he knew what to make of that. Decisions made in the makeup department clearly weren’t his field of expertise. “You hold on right there.” He pressed something on his ear and began to speak in muffled tones. “I have a woman here claiming to be Rowen Greensmith. She says she was called here about makeup or something… Yeah… Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He looked to Rowen again. “Don’t move,” he repeated before walking toward the other trailers. Rowen didn’t wait to see where exactly it was he was going. She went the rest of the way up the stairs and knocked on the trailer door.

  A blonde woman with running mascara opened the door. Rowen held the makeup bag aloft. “Margo called me.”

  The blonde’s face screwed up in anger. “Right. Because my makeup isn’t good enough for her. Do you know how long I’ve been doing this? Do you have any idea how many awards I’ve won?”

  “No,” Rowen said honestly. “I don’t have any clue who you are, but I don’t doubt you’re good at what you do. Don’t take it personally. Margo is a ridiculous person all around.”

  The makeup artist’s tense posture relaxed a bit. No doubt, she was glad to find Rowen was sympathetic. “Come on in then.” She opened the door wide, allowing Rowen to step inside the trailer.

  Half the trailer was taken up by lights and a couple of vanities. The other half was taken up by racks of clothes. Margo was seated before one of the vanities, in a black chair bolted to the floor. A young man with gelled silver tips was trying to take a hot wand through Margo’s hair. She kept raising her hand to bat him away. The young man backed away every time, clearly nervous about Margo burning herself.

  “When are you going to listen?” Margo snapped. “I’m the only one who’s going to take heat to my own hair. I’m not letting someone else do it. You don’t know me. You don’t know my hair.”

  “Ma’am, I’m trained to assess hair types. I do Irene’s hair. She swears by me. It’s going to look fantastic, okay?” The hair stylist was trying to keep his tone polite, but his face told a different story. He looked mere moments away from beating her with that hot hair wand.

  “I know what’s best for my hair. Give that here.” Margo held her hand up and snapped her fingers.

  Rowen stepped in before the stylist handed it to her hot end first or something. She wouldn’t blame him for it. “She’s not worth the trouble, guys. Just let her do her thing. I’ll vouch for you two if you wanna, like, report the situation back to your boss or something. It’s definitely not your fault if she wanders on stage looking like a washed-out fashion doll.”

  The stylist looked to Rowen. “Who are you?”

  Margo looked as well. “Oh, good.” She reached out her hand. “This is my cousin, Rowen. She’s the one I called.” She snapped her fingers at Rowen this time. “Come on, hurry up and give my makeup here. There’s a lot to do.”

  Rowen wasn’t going to be ordered around by Margo too. She gave her cousin her makeup, but she did so by tossing it at her. Margo outstretched her arms, her eyes wide and startled. She caught it, and after a split second of relief came anger. “Oh, don’t start with me. Stop being a pain to these people. They’re just trying to do their job.”

  “Well, I can do it better. I’m sure other people could use their help, but I know what I’m doing here.” She unzipped her bag. “You better not have broken anything.”

  The stylist and makeup artist made a show of storming out. Rowen didn’t blame them. She just hoped they didn’t get in trouble because of Margo’s antics. “You know you don’t have to be so difficult all the time.”

  “I’m not!” Margo said immediately. She was already working on applying her makeup. “This is a big deal. This broadcast is going to reach a lot of people. I need to look my best. It’s not my fault that those two aren’t up to the task. I let them try, but it wasn’t up to snuff. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Dunno. Maybe you should try not being a jerk.” Rowen saw Margo’s reflection in the mirror roll its eyes. Maybe she wouldn’t stay for the interview after all. Heading home seemed like a much more enjoyable idea. “Well, you have at it then. Break a leg out there.”

  Margo acknowledged all that was said with a grunt. She was too busy working on lining her lips to speak. She raised a hand in a very lackluster goodbye.

  With a sigh, Rowen went to the door. She should have just refused Margo in the first place. Oh, well. What was done, was done. There was leftover Chinese food at home. The thought of it was awfully tempting right about now.

  Rowen opened the door and stepped out of the trailer just in time to nearly bowl over someone else. A red haired woman on the steps stopped and smiled. “Whoa there,” she said, placing a well-manicured hand over her heart. “You scared me.”

  The woman didn’t look particularly scared, Rowen thought. There was a certain emptiness behind her green eyes and in her pearly white smile. It was like she was wearing a mask. Somehow, Rowen recognized the woman. She stared for a few awkward seconds in silence before it hit her. This was the woman whose picture was on the van. This was Irene Jones, the woman from WNT, the woman conducting Margo’s interview. “Hi. Sorry. I’m Rowen Greensmith.” Rowen continued down into the grass when Irene moved out of her way and into the grass as well. “I’m sorry to just barge in like that. Margo called me. She’s my cousin. She needed something.”

  “I heard,” said Irene, her tone knowing, suggestive. Given the stylist and makeup artist flanking her, she had probably already been given the gist of what was going on.

  “I’m sorry about her. She can be difficult.”

  Irene waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it. There’s no need to apologize. I know her type. It certainly isn’t your fault.” She paused then to look Rowen up and down. It was like she was considering something. “You must really love your cousin to come all this way just to humor her.” She held out her hand. “I’m Irene.”

  Rowen shook her hand before inclining her head toward the van. “I noticed.”

  Irene chuckled at that. “Oh, have you seen our show?”

  “Haven’t had the pleasure,” Rowen admitted. “I’ll certainly be tuning in tonight, though.”

  “Well, I’m sure you have your hands full with your own publication. I love your work, by the way.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you want to step into my trailer for a moment?”

  That caught Rowen off guard. She couldn’t help but wonder if Irene had an ulterior motive here. “Well, my husband is waiting out in the car, so—”

  “It’ll only take a few minutes,” Irene assured her. “I would really like this opportunity to get to know you. You’re a very popular person right now, you know?”

  “I am?”

  Irene nodded. “All the Greensmiths are.”

  Rowen wasn’t sure the Greensmiths were actually “popular.” It seemed like they were more of a town oddity, something for the tourists to get a quick glimpse of while they were here. Still, it didn’t seem like there would be any harm in speaking with Irene. As long as she was there, she might as well get a feel for the woman. She was about to interview Margo, after all. If Rowen could get a sense that things were about to go badly, she could at least try to warn her cousin. “Sure.”

  “This way.” Irene led the way to the trailer marked with her name.

  Irene’s trailer was rather nice. The place looked like a sort of home away from home. It sounded like she traveled a lot for work, so it was no surprise that her trailer would be furnished comfortably.

  “Take a seat.” Irene sat herself down in a plush red chair.

  Rowen sat herself down on a small love seat. All the furniture was likely bolted to the floor, though the pictures and awards and strange oddities on shelves looked like they must have been unpacked and arranged by someone. “Do you cover alien sightings a lot?” Rowen asked, her eyes settling first on a picture of what looked like a downed alien craft. It was undoubted
ly fake. Rowen was sure news of such a thing would have been slightly bigger.

  “Hmm?” Irene followed Rowen’s gaze. “Ah, yes, that was something we covered a couple of years back. It was in New Mexico… Or so people claimed. It was gone by the time we got there, unfortunately.”

  “Why keep a picture of it then?”

  “It was one of our bigger stories,” Irene said, her eyes still on the picture. Her smile grew fond. “People trust you more when you report just the facts. A healthy layer of skepticism. That’s what the people want these days.”

  “So, you don’t believe in aliens?”

  “I haven’t seen any myself, but I would like to.” Irene sat up straighter in her chair, careful not to let anything mess with her hair. “You have to come at these things from a place of logic. That said, we’ve come across plenty of oddities. You should really go back and watch some of the archived episodes of our shows. We once spent a night in an old, abandoned psychiatric ward. It was thrilling. We picked up some truly astonishing stuff. It was one of our most popular episodes ever.”

  Rowen wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Irene had caught her off guard. When she had heard World News Tonight, she had assumed that they were a serious news station that covered world news and only the occasional “fun” piece like this.

  Irene seemed to guess at what she was thinking. She laughed. “I guess you really haven’t seen our show.”

  “Has Margo?” Rowen wasn’t sure she could imagine her cousin going along with a tabloid news program. Margo was the sort of person to hold out for something she considered worth her time and energy. She wasn’t ever going to make it big with that attitude, especially not in Lainswich. Granted, Rowen wasn’t sure precisely how Margo intended to “make it big.” It was like she was already famous in her own mind and was simply waiting for the rest of the world to catch up and recognize it.

  “She told us she watched the show religiously.” Irene didn’t sound like she actually believed that.

  Rowen shrugged. “All right then.” It wasn’t her job to warn Margo. She was being a royal jerk tonight anyway. “Do you believe she’s a witch?”