Love, Love, Love

by Deborah Reber

  “Archery practice,” answered the girl with a nod, then she snuggled into Cody’s armpit. “I’m giving up archery.”

  “Don’t you know what your name means?” asked Laura, begging her to come to her senses. Although she had never admitted to being Cupid, the new girl didn’t seem to be putting on an act. She had been honestly smitten with her own dumb love bolt, just like Emma and Jake … Megan and Peter … and how many others!

  “How do you reverse the spell?” Laura pleaded.

  Cupidity just giggled and hugged Cody. “You’re crazy, girl. I don’t care that you got into my trunk and messed with my bow, I just didn’t want you to hurt anyone. You don’t need to come up with a wacky story to explain it.”

  “You’re Cupid!” shrieked Laura. “Don’t you know who Cupid is?”

  “Sure, we know who Cupid is,” answered Cody, “one of Santa’s reindeers.”

  “That’s so true!” chirped Cupidity, hugging him tighter. “You’re so smart, Codykins! Let’s go back inside and find one of those mattresses.”

  “Good idea,” answered the skater dude, looking as if he had been brainwashed.

  Laura wanted to scream, but instead she tried a desperate ruse. “I’ve got a terrible headache—can we end the date early and go home?”

  “No,” they answered in unison, turning their backs on her. Looking like the most darling, devoted couple, Cupidity and Cody ambled arm in arm back to the party.

  “Oh, you idiot!” Laura yelled at herself. “What have you done?” She threw the magic bow back into the trunk as if it were a live snake, then grabbed her purse and slammed the trunk shut.

  Maybe Cupidity is just pretending to have amnesia, Laura told herself. Maybe she’s only punking me in order to stick to her lame cover story. But I shot her with one of her own arrows and pricked Cody a moment later—it’s got to have had some effect! The two of them are exactly like the other Stepford Lovebirds.

  Laura stomped around the darkened parking lot, trying to forget the distant laughter and music, because she had to think. There were two possible explanations. One was that the Roman god Cupid was real, that she was living as a teenage girl in Denton, Ohio, and that she had just gotten amnesia. The other possibility was that Laura Sweeney was insane. At this point, she wasn’t sure which explanation she preferred.

  I might need proof, she told herself. Laura looked around to make sure that Cupidity and Cody had gone and left her by herself in the parking lot. That alone was suspicious behavior, because normally Cupidity wouldn’t leave her bow and arrows for Laura to use again. She had rushed out here to stop Laura from handling the bow, and now she was willing to just walk away from it. That didn’t seem likely.

  For the second time that night Laura reached under the dashboard and pulled the lever to open the trunk. Gingerly she grabbed the bow and put it back into the duffel bag, making sure not to touch any of the arrows. After shooting the bow, Laura was sure it had powerful magic—so powerful that Cupid didn’t have to be the one using it.

  I could have the power of Cupid, she realized. But I don’t want it, especially if I might make as many bad decisions as Cupidity has. Look at the ridiculous couple I just created! she thought in despair. No, this is too much power for any teenager to have. But then again, what if I need proof?

  Despite her misgivings Laura again grabbed the duffel bag, stealing Cupidity’s bow and arrows. She looked around and slammed the trunk lid shut before scurrying into the darkness.

  As she walked back to the road, Laura pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed a taxicab company. Normally she would have called a friend, like Taryn, but Taryn was out with Chester tonight. Plus she didn’t want to have to explain carrying a large duffel bag on a blind date, or what had happened on that blind date. Love was still in the air, like the flu, and Laura felt bad about making the epidemic worse.

  Laura gave the taxi company her general location, then checked to make sure she had enough money to get home. I’ll figure it out, she told herself. I’ll do something to correct this.

  In time, headlights cruised down the road, coming toward her, and she recognized the slow-moving vehicle as her taxi. Laura waved it down and bounded into the backseat, anxious to get out of there. As she clutched the precious duffel bag to her chest, she realized that magical weapons could turn their bearers evil or insane. She knew she was taking a terrible chance keeping the bow and arrows, but it was a great relief to know the truth, especially about Peter Yarmench.

  It’s not Peter’s fault that he’s in love with Megan—he’s under a spell, in the clutches of her undeserved affection. I have to save him!

  Laura worried all night about what had happened and what to do, and by morning she was bleary-eyed and confused. She had almost convinced herself that she had to be crazy—no bow and arrow could make normal people fall madly in love with people they hated. Although it seemed that was exactly what had happened, especially with Jake and Emma. But then again, hate and love were similar, she had always been told, and maybe she had just let Peter be stolen by Megan. Only one person could really solve this mystery and tell her the truth: Cupidity.

  So by eight o’clock Saturday morning Laura was waiting at the door of Cupidity’s apartment, stomping her foot. She had already rung the doorbell twice, and then she heard stumbling sounds from inside. Laura was about to ring the doorbell a third time when it finally creaked open; looking disheveled and sleepy, Cupidity peered out through the slit.

  “Laura,” she croaked. “What are you doing here? There isn’t school on Saturday, is there?”

  “No.” Laura pushed her glasses up her nose and tried to stay calm. “Can I come in and talk to you for a moment?” When the other girl seemed hesitant, Laura added, “It’s an emergency.”

  “Oh, emergency,” muttered Cupidity as she opened the door. “Hey, what happened to you last night? You disappeared on us!”

  “Remember me telling you I didn’t feel well?” answered Laura. “Well, I went home early. Besides, you didn’t need me.”

  Cupidity smiled wistfully and scratched her ribs through her silky nightgown. “No, we sure didn’t need you. What a dreamy night.”

  “You and Cody—” Laura wiggled her fingers instead of saying more.

  “Me and Cody did what?” asked Cupidity, sounding offended. “He was a perfect gentleman—more or less …” She strode into her living room and began to pick up various bits of trash. When she found the cigars on the mantel, she wrinkled her nose and touched them as if they were bugs.

  “Ew! Where did these come from?” The blond girl marched into the kitchen and threw the cigars into the trash.

  “Wait a second,” said Laura. “You were smoking those cigars last time I was here.”

  “As if!” shrieked Cupidity, sounding totally offended. “My dad must have left them here. What’s going on with you, Laura? You didn’t make any sense last night either.”

  Laura stared intently at her friend and begged, “Please remember what happened last night. You’re forgetting something important. You left the rave, came outside to your car, and found me holding your bow. You shouted at me to stop—do you remember that?”

  “Yeah,” she answered doubtfully. “Sure, I remember it. But mostly I remember Cody.” A blissful look swept across her innocent face.

  “I know we can’t forget Cody,” said Laura, trying not to get frustrated, “but that wasn’t on your mind when you shouted at me. You didn’t want me to hold your bow … because … because?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to hurt Cody.” Cupidity smiled sweetly at the thought of her beloved. “He’s so smart and cute.”

  Laura rubbed her face, knocking her glasses askew. “All right. Let’s back up a bit. Where did you say you grew up?”

  Cupidity scowled. “What are you, my guidance counselor? I get asked questions all week long in school, and now I have to answer questions on Saturday?”

  “You don’t know where you grew up,” declar
ed Laura, “because you have amnesia. Last night you lost your memory.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” scoffed Cupidity. “I know you—I know my friends … and my boyfriend. And I know how you ditched poor Rip last night. Poor boy was heartbroken. Those skaters are like really sensitive, you know.”

  Laura sputtered with disbelief. “You’ve known all of us for a whole week! Do you remember your old friends, before you moved here?”

  “I told you … I was homeschooled!” Cupidity folded her arms and stomped into the living room. “I don’t care about my past, anyway. My life begins now … now that I’ve found Cody.”

  Laura followed her friend across the room, waving her arms. “But you’ve got to care, because that proves that you’ve lost your memory. The bow and arrows—don’t you know what they do?”

  “I don’t care about the stupid bow,” replied Cupidity. “You can keep it—you’re the one obsessed with it!” When the phone rang, she dashed toward the device as if she already knew who it was.

  “Hello, Codykins!” she cooed, slumping into an overstuffed chair. “Yes, I’ve been longing to hear your voice! Laura is over here now, and she’s being a real grump. She doesn’t even care that she devastated poor Rip last night. And she keeps asking me all kinds of weird questions about my past. Do you care about my past?”

  She giggled and curled into a cute ball. “I didn’t think so.” After a moment, Cupidity looked up at her guest and said, “This is private stuff, Laura. Good-bye. And don’t bring the bow and arrows to school anymore, like you did before. You’ll get us in trouble.”

  While Laura clenched her fists and her mouth, Cupidity went right on babbling to her boyfriend. After a moment, her conversation degenerated into gooey baby talk, and Laura had to flee from the apartment. She climbed back into her mom’s car and pounded her fists on the steering wheel.

  I can’t help any of them, she despaired. They’re doomed to mindless, pointless love. From her misery, Laura thought of another friend who might be more helpful than Cupidity had been. She scrounged around in her purse for her cell phone and dialed Taryn’s number.

  “Good morning!” said an incredibly bright, cheerful voice.

  “Taryn?” asked Laura uncertainly. “Is that you?”

  “Well, of course it’s me,” she chirped. “I had a great time on my date last night. First of all, I wore my new tank top, the blue one—”

  “Listen, I’d really love to hear this,” lied Laura, “but I’m driving and I’ve only got a moment. Can I get a phone number from you and then call you back?”

  “Hey, how was your date last night?” asked Taryn, oblivious to everything but love. “Did you hook up?”

  “Yeah, he kissed me,” said Laura, glad she could tell the truth. “Listen, what’s the name of that psychic you once told me about? The Conjure Woman, you called her.”

  “Oooh,” breathed Taryn, sounding impressed. “The one with the love spells? Are you that serious about someone? I want to warn you, Laura, once you get involved in that stuff, you may not be able to get out. It can backfire on you too.”

  “No kidding,” said Laura sharply. “The number, please?”

  “I’m looking! Madame Luisa is her name, or something like that.” Taryn breathed a triumphant sigh. “Ah, here’s the number.”

  As she rattled it off, Laura wrote it down on a slip of paper. She was uncertain whether she would have the courage to call the Conjure Woman, but she had to get help from somewhere. “Thanks,” she answered glumly.

  “Are you sure about this?” asked Taryn, “I didn’t figure you to believe in love spells and stuff.”

  “Well, some things have changed my mind lately,” admitted Laura. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Going out with Chester again,” answered Taryn in a dreamy tone of voice. “And you?”

  Laura shook her head. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll call you back later. I do want to hear about your date, really.”

  “Yeah,” answered Taryn, “and since you’re hunting for love potions, I want to hear about your date too.”

  Laura said good-bye and clicked off her cell phone. She stared at the number in her lap, wondering if she had the courage to call it. But doing nothing meant leaving things exactly the way they were, and that was unacceptable.

  With determination Laura dialed the number. Nervously she tapped her steering wheel as the phone rang. Finally a sleepy voice answered, “Hello.”

  “Hello, I’m looking for Madame Luisa,” she began.

  “Well, you found her … at an ungodly time of the morning, I might add. What can I do for you?”

  Laura gulped. “I need to see you.”

  “I can give you an appointment next Wednesday—”

  “No!” exclaimed Laura. “I need to see you today!”

  She heard a low grumble. “I’m booked up all day, from ten o’clock on.”

  “It’s not even nine o’clock yet,” said Laura. “Please! I’m desperate.”

  “Aren’t they all?” muttered the sleepy Conjure Woman. “Do you have my address?”

  “No, but I’m ready to write it down.”

  “Bring forty bucks with you too,” added Madame Luisa.

  Laura didn’t know what to expect from the Conjure Woman’s home, but she was still a little surprised to find a typical split-level ranch house in a nice part of town. Of course there weren’t any steamy swamps in Denton, Ohio, so it might be hard to find a shack surrounded by gators and lightning bugs. Running around in the front yard were three little kids, wearing bath towels as if they were capes, and Laura had to dodge them on her way to the front door.

  The door opened before she reached it, and Laura found herself confronted by a very tall woman with dusky skin but bright blond hair. She was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a long cardigan sweater with a chain around her waist.

  Madame Luisa looked surprised at the sight of her visitor. “You’re a teenager? What problem can you have, being young and cute?”

  “Plenty,” answered Laura. “May I come in?”

  “Sure, my consulting room is in the back. I’ve got a pot of tea brewing.” Leading the way, the statuesque woman led her customer through a neat living room, down a long hallway, and into a bedroom in the back of the house. Looking around, Laura felt better, because this room was very atmospheric, with walls bedecked in religious symbols, candles, and artwork from around the world.

  “You have all the bases covered,” said Laura in amazement. She didn’t add that Cupidity’s bow would fit right in with the clutter of artifacts on the walls.

  Madame Luisa shrugged. “You never know. Normally in a case like yours, I recommend Blue Succory. It makes a wonderful love potion—you can blow the powder up his nose or put it in his underwear, next to his skin.”

  Laura sat solemnly at the table and chose her words carefully. “That’s not my problem. I’m looking for an anti-love potion.”

  The Conjure Woman sat at the table, scratching her blond hair. She gazed curiously at the girl and asked, “You want to get rid of a guy, right? I’ve got something you can put in your bath water—make you smell like a week-old fish.”

  “Ah, it’s not something for me,” said Laura carefully. “I can make people fall in love with each other, I just can’t make them fall out of love.”

  “Is that right?” growled the tall woman, sitting back in her chair and looking very skeptical. “If you could really do that, then you’d ride up here in a limousine.”

  Laura leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at the Conjure Woman, hoping to convince her how serious she was. “If I can prove it to you, will you help me?”

  Madame Luisa scowled. “How are you going to do that?”

  Laura took a deep breath, then blurted, “You must have couples that you’re supposed to get together. So give me one—their names, addresses, and stuff—and I’ll make sure they hook up. I’ll do your job for you, but just this once and with a pair who really deserve to be together
.”

  “Whoa,” replied Madame Luisa, looking impressed. “You seem to have confidence in this skill of yours. Okay, I’m going to give you a file, and you’re going to fix them up.”

  She rose from her chair and walked to a closet, took a key from the chain around her waist, and unlocked the door. Madame Luisa disappeared inside the closet, but her voice boomed, “Honey, it’s not fair that you know all about me—where I live, what my kids look like—and I don’t know nothin’ about you. Giving you this file, I’m putting a lot of faith in you …”

  “I’ll give you my address and phone number,” offered Laura.

  “There’s pen and paper by the teapot.”

  Laura dutifully wrote down her details, wondering whether Madame Luisa was for real. She didn’t want to put powder into people’s underwear, and she really doubted if that would help. But she had made the offer, and she had wisely kept quiet about Cupidity’s bow.

  The Conjure Woman stepped out of the closet holding a file folder, and she carefully locked the door behind her. “Okay, your assignment is to put these two oldsters together,” she said, tossing the folder onto the table. “She’s rich, and she’s my client. They’re truly in love, but he won’t marry her because he’s proud about money and his independence. Otherwise, they’d be hitched. So you really only have to work on him.”

  “They’ll both be completely smitten by tomorrow,” Laura promised grimly. She opened the folder to find photos and extensive notes about one of the wealthiest and most famous women in town, Dorothy Planchett. “Wow, she has trouble finding a husband?”

  “No, she’s got him going, but he just has issues,” said Madame Luisa. “You think you can wipe them out?”

  Laura closed the folder and rose to her feet. “Mr. Barclay won’t know what hit him. I’m going to do you this favor to prove that what I say is true. But in return you need to promise me that you will show me how to make people fall out of love.”

  The Conjure Woman picked up the paper with Laura’s information. “Hey, I’m good for it. I didn’t charge you the usual forty bucks, did I, Laura Sweeney?”