The Magic Cupcake

by River Laurent

  Chapter Four

  Lauren

  I don’t know if it’s the alcohol but I’m feeling extraordinarily excited about the whole thing. It’s like an adventure. And I can’t remember the last time I had an adventure. I think it was when I was a kid and my parents took me to a fun fair and I got lost in the Horror house. I was so terrified I nearly peed myself while I was inside, but when I got out at the other end, I felt very proud of myself.

  I’ve never met a gypsy before or had my fortune told. In fact, I haven’t done very much with my life at all. At the very least, this will be a new experience for me. I avoid making eye contact with Andrea’s gaze as I find my own phone. The numbers of the screen look kinda blurry.

  Fortunately, Nina gently relieves me of my phone and types the number into it for me.

  I take my phone and clear my throat.

  All I have to do is go through with the call. It’s a little loud, here in the bar, but I can always go outside. I want to do this, I really want to, but my nerves are jangling like crazy the closer I come to going through with the craziest thing I’ve ever done. It’s one thing to talk a big game, especially with Andrea telling me how nuts I am, but another to follow through.

  “Shall I call her now?”

  “Unless you need a little more liquid courage to go through with this?” Nina offers.

  “I might. I might need a bit more.”

  “No, you don’t,” Andrea cuts in. “We’ll both follow you out while you make your call.”

  I try to protest, but Andrea will not hear of it.

  So we troop outside together. It’s cold out. I use that as an excuse to huddle a little, my coat collar pulled up to sort of hide my face from my friends. At least the freezing air gives me a reason to have flushed cheeks.

  It rings once…twice…maybe she won’t pick up? I feel a sense of disappointment. What did I expect? This day is going to suck to the very end.

  “Hello?”

  I’m so startled I jump. The woman’s voice is low, smoky. Dare I say exactly what I would’ve expected from a woman who sells love potions? I imagine her sitting in a dark room, wearing multiple layers of flowy, gauzy caftans or something, with a cigarette in a long holder sitting between her first two fingers. I’ve watched a lot of TV. Maybe too much. “Uh, is this Madam Zelda?”

  “Yes,” she says shortly.

  I blink hard. “My name is Lauren.” Andrea snorts loudly and I quickly turn my back to her. “I understand you provide—um—solutions to women.”

  “I provide many services to many young women. And the occasional young man. What is it you are looking for Zelda to provide?”

  Talks about herself in third person. That’s healthy. But then again, this could all be an act. She’s got to keep up appearances. I clear my throat, ready to choke on the words, then cup my hand around my mouth before replying, “A-a—potion.” Jesus, this is so weird.

  “If you are calling at this time of the night it must be a love potion you are looking for.”

  “Yes, it’s for love,” I confirm, my stomach is a mess of nerves and excitement.

  “I can certainly provide a love portion,” she says in that smoky voice. “But it must be done tonight. There is a full moon. Come to my home no later than midnight, or it will be too late and I will see if I can help.

  “You want me to come tonight?” I ask, throwing a panicked look at my friends.

  Andrea shakes her head. “Tell her tomorrow,” she mimes.

  I turn away. “So you need the full moon to make your potion?”

  “Yes, for it to work fully, a full moon is necessary.”

  I take a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll come now.”

  “Us,” Andrea hisses. “We are all going. I’m not letting you go to a stranger’s house alone in the state you’re in.”

  “Your friend is right,” Zelda agrees.

  My eyes widen. I had no idea she could hear that…or was she able to sense it? No. That would be ridiculous. I should’ve stopped at the third martini.

  “So long as,” she continues, “they respect the nature of the work which you and I will do together, your friends are welcome if you would feel more at ease with them in your presence.”

  “Yes, yes, I believe I would,” I say in a rush, very glad I won’t have to face the strange old gypsy woman myself.

  “Wonderful. Bring four hundred dollars to the following address—”

  “Four hundred?” I repeat stunned as I lock eyes with Nina, who shrugs. I don’t know why I was thinking it would be in the region of twenty dollars. I guess it’s because in all the movies I’ve seen gypsies tell fortunes in exchange for tiny amounts of cash. I don’t even dare look at Andrea. I know exactly what she’s thinking.

  “You want a love potion, do you not?” Zelda demands.

  “Uh, yes.”

  “My dear…” Zelda chuckles. “…you sound old enough to know by now that in life, we get what we pay for.”

  I straighten my back. This is an adventure. It would be silly to give up on an adventure because of the cost of it. “Of course, yes. What’s the address?”

  She rattles it off. Of course, I didn’t catch it, but thank god, Nina mouths that she knows where it is. I thank Zelda and the line goes dead.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Andrea says as we stumble along Chestnut Street in search of the nearest ATM. “We’re going to withdraw four hundred freaking dollars from your account—”

  “Oh, my God, say it a bit louder, don’t you? The muggers in Philadelphia didn’t hear you,” Nina scolds.

  “—and we’re going to go to this stranger’s home, and you’re going to get a love potion. Is this really what’s happening?”

  “Look Killjoy, you can always go home, you know,” Nina mutters.

  For a moment, they glare at each other, then Andrea breaks into a big grin. “Hell, no. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. This is like, the most interesting thing we’ve done in a long time.”

  “So? What are we waiting for?” Nina cries excitedly.

  “Come you two crazies,” Andrea shouts as she links arms with me and Nina. We continue to walk. Unsteadily. Because we’re all drunk. Andrea just takes longer to show.

  While I withdraw the money, they both keep a watch, then wait for me to secure it in my purse. God, we are so obvious, it’s a wonder the cops haven’t stopped us to ask what we’re up to. I’m pretty sure Nina thinks she’s one of Charlie’s Angels or something, looking back and forth at all times. As I put the money into my purse, Andrea spots a taxi and runs at it yelling.

  It stops in front of us and we all pile into it.

  Ten minutes or so later, the taxi pulls up and we find ourselves in a rather shabby neighborhood. Dark and a little eerie. If I wasn’t so drunk, I think I might be scared right now.

  “There can’t be much demand for her potions,” Andrea mutters, next to me.

  “That must be it,” I say as I make out the number 696 on one of the doors. The number 9 has almost fallen off, making it look more like 666. Creepy. Very creepy. I’m so glad the girls are with me. I pay for the cab and we all tumble into the street.

  “This is nice,” Nina says, looking up at the house and shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Yeah, I don’t get a mass-murdery feel at all,” Andrea adds sarcastically.

  “Even if the potion doesn’t work, we’ll have a hell of a story to tell,” I say.

  It was good that we walked for a bit though. The cold air has cleared my head a little, so I don’t feel as fuzzy as I did earlier. The money seems to weigh a ton in my purse. The psychic weight of it is much heavier than its physical mass.

  I have to pretend to be a lot braver than I am when I raise my fist to knock at the door. That slight motion pushes it open. She left it cracked for us.

  “Here we go,” Andrea whispers, patting my shoulder before giving me a gentle shove forward.

  The door opens onto a long, dark hall line
d with a couple of doors on either side. They’re closed with only the lighting fixtures on the walls showing us the way, ornate iron sconces with little pink, beaded shades on each. The wallpaper is dark and our shoes click on the hardwood floor.

  The door at the end of this hallway is open, revealing what I guess is the living room. The air here smells musty and it’s cluttered with antiques and all sorts of bric-a-brac. There must be a fortune’s worth in here, I think to myself. Or is it all old junk? It’s hard to be sure.

  The windows would look out onto the street we arrived at if they weren’t covered with dark velvet curtains, the same sort of draperies which cover the walls. Lit candles sit on pretty much every flat surface. There’s incense burning somewhere. It hangs heavy in the air and fills the room with a haze. I have to force myself to keep from fanning away with my hands.

  “Come closer, my dear.”

  None of us noticed her until she spoke, meaning all three of us jump at the sound of her voice. No wonder it sounds so smoky. The woman is surrounded by actual smoke all the time.

  She sits at an old, round wooden table partly covered by the same purple velvet that she’s hung throughout the room. There’s an honest-to-God black cat seated on the table which she slowly pets as her eyes take in the three of us—and we take her in, as well. Her long, glossy brown hair is streaked with gray, arranged in thick ringlets which cascade over her shoulders that are wrapped in a huge shawl. Gray eyes lined heavily in black under dark, perfectly arched brows. Her plump, ruby lips curve into a smile as she stands, revealing her purple robes. She is wearing a long skirt that hides her feet.

  She fixes her eyes on me. “You are the one longing for love.”

  I wonder how she can be so sure. “Yes,” I reply.

  She beckons for me to follow her further into her lair.

  When she raises one hand to shake, I wonder how she can even lift it considering the number of rings and bracelets she wears. They match her hoop earrings and multiple necklaces. In other words, she’s magnificent and pretty much everything I would’ve expected.

  “I am Madam Zelda,” she announces with pride. “I welcome you to my home.”

  “I’m—Lauren,” I whisper. “My friends, Andrea and Nina.”

  She acknowledges them, but barely. Lifting her chin, she announces, “They can sit. I have no need to speak with them. It is you who’ve come to me for the assistance from the other world which only I can provide.”

  Andrea chokes on a laugh behind me, and her soft groan tells me Nina elbowed her.

  Zelda pretends not to notice or care, waving a hand toward a small sofa in the corner before turning full attention to me.

  I feel like a prize cow getting looked over at the state fair. She takes in every last bit of me, walking around me in a circle. I expect her to ask to examine my teeth. I think she might even sniff my hair, but that could be my imagination trying to make sense of the absolute shit-storm of crazy I’ve walked into.

  Once she’s finished her examination, Zelda pulls out the chair sitting opposite hers. “Sit at the table, my dear. Let us speak of he whose love you wish to obtain.”

  I do as I’m told because, hey, who wouldn’t?

  Zelda sits too, and that black cat jumps up in front of her as if on cue. It stares at me with its green cat eyes and I wonder for a second if it’s actually thinking, actually forming opinions of me.

  Maybe it’s not incense Zelda’s burning, because this makes no sense.

  “First, the matter of payment.” Zelda’s eyes are sharper as she watches me fumble for my wallet—she counts the money quickly, red-nailed fingers flying over the bills.

  Andrea snorts.

  Nina shushes her.

  “Very well, then.” The money disappears into Zelda’s ample bosom. “Tell me about this man.”

  I’m at a loss. “He’s… my next-door-neighbor,” I murmur, tucking my hair behind my ears. “He’s handsome. Young. I’ve seen him walking in and out with rolls of blueprints under his arm. I think he’s an architect.”

  “You think?” she asks, one brow arching even more than before. “You do not know?”

  “I mean, I’m not stalking him or anything like that,” I correct hastily.

  “But you haven’t spoken with this man? Haven’t asked him about himself? You know nothing about him?”

  Shit. My heart’s sinking faster than a stone. “I— uh, no. I haven’t really spent time with him. We’ve met once. This morning.”

  “You have a crush on him, then?” She almost spits it out like it’s a dirty word.

  “I-I—um maybe—no—I mean, well there is something there.” And I think I just threw my money away.

  Madam exhales loudly.

  “What’s so wrong with something? Every relationship has to start with something,” Andrea says over my shoulder.

  “There is a difference between love and a mere crush, child,” Zelda points out, glancing at Andrea. “It is not advisable to play with love. Love is the greatest force imaginable. Love conquers all. Love is the strongest of all our emotions.”

  “All you need is love…” Andrea sings softly.

  Nina giggles are muffled by her hand over her mouth.

  “Enough! Silence!” Zelda raises her arms.

  I would swear on the Bible that I feel a chill come over the room. The candle flames actually flicker in unison.

  The girls go silent.

  I think I might have just peed a little.

  Zelda lowers her arms, staring at me as she does. “Your story is not unlike that which I’ve heard time and again. You are not unique, my dear, in your pining for a young man you know little about. There is no crime in this. The tea leaves will tell the true tale. The tea leaves never lie.”

  Chapter Five

  Lauren

  “Tea leaves?”

  At that precise moment, there’s a whistling sound which makes us all jump.

  Madam Zelda stands and takes a whistling kettle off an old stove in one corner of the room.

  I turn to stare with wide eyes at the girls.

  Nina makes a face.

  “I knew you would come,” she croaks.

  I notice for the first time a teapot on the little table beside her, and two cups.

  There is a tense silence while she makes the tea. Then she sits down opposite me again, pushes back her sleeves and pours a dark, strong looking brew into both cups.

  I finally see the trace of a smile on her wrinkled face as she stares at me.

  “Now, drink,” she orders, “And tell me about this love of yours.”

  I lift the cup to my lips and hold my breath before downing the tea. Even though I’m not breathing, I can still taste how bitter it is.

  Would it be rude to make a face? It would be rude to make a face.

  Andrea and Nina stay silent, for once. I think the candle thing scared them.

  I drink the bitter tea quickly and pass the empty cup back to her. Then I haltingly tell her as much about my neighbor as I can, given my limited knowledge of him. I’m doubting it’s enough for her to make her decision, but it doesn’t seem to bother her as she studies my teacup from different angles.

  The cat jumps into my lap. Good thing I’m not allergic. I can only sit here, stroking its sleek fur, watching as Zelda weighs my future in her hands.

  For a few moments more, she swirls the cup round and round, scattering the soggy remains around the inside of the cup. Zelda turns the cup this way, that way, examining the leaves in the bottom. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

  “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” I whisper.

  “That depends,” she murmurs. “I’ve seen these patterns before. Rarely, however. Once or twice.”

  “What—what do they mean?” I’m almost not sure I want to know, honestly. What if they say I’m going to lose my job, go into debt and become homeless?

  She puts the cup down slowly. The air is full of the drama created by her. “Yes. You are ready fo
r love. It is certain.” She looks up at me, then rises from the table. Without a word, she sweeps out of the room, followed closely by her cat.

  I turn and look at the girls.

  They shrug.

  The sounds of clattering, banging and the occasional cries of a cat come from the room next door.

  “What the hell?” Nina whispers.

  “I think we should haul ass out of here,” Andrea hisses.

  “Easy for you to say. You didn’t spend four hundred dollars for this experience.” Even though she has a point.

  We all cringe as something heavy falls.

  Moments later, Zelda returns, brushing dust from her robes. But she’s holding a dark glass vial with cork stopper in one hand.

  My eyes widen when I see it. “Is that…?” I ask.

  “It is.” She sits down again, placing the vial on the table.

  I reach for it—then cry out in surprise when she slaps my hand back. “Hey!” I rub the spot where her hand made contact.

  “It is not ready yet,” she whispers. “Do not be greedy.”

  “Says the woman who charged four hundred dollars,” Andrea mutters, and Nina mutters in agreement.

  Zelda shoots them a cold glare before raising her hands over the vial. “I must imbue the potion with the magic needed to bring it to life.” She closes her eyes, moving her hands in slow circles and humming. Loudly. Her body starts to undulate. The humming is even louder.

  I don’t know whether to laugh or leave.

  When her hands slam against the table, the three of us jump. Nina even squeals.

  Zelda’s chest heaves up and down like she’s just finished some huge physical feat. Her eyes pop open. “It is finished.”

  I blink, waiting for more. When nothing comes, I ask, “That’s it? The magic is ready? Or something?”

  “Indeed.” She stares at me. “Well, take it.”

  Sorry, but I didn’t want to get my hand slapped again. I reach for the vial, expecting it to tingle or sizzle in my hand after all that hocus pocus stuff. It doesn’t. It’s just a little glass bottle, like any other. I turn it upside down and can indeed see liquid moving around inside. “What should I do with it?”