The sound of footsteps gets closer as her voice gets louder, “Where are you, my lovey duckling? Come out, come out . . . wherever you are,” she coos.
Helga hears Brimstone hold his breath as the footsteps stop. Helga holds her breath as well not wanting to give him away even though she’s on the phone and not there with him.
Lady Ava coos once more, “Brimmy? Are you in here?”
Silence. No one dares breathe a single breath. After a few seconds Lady Ava’s steps start once more and fade out.
Brimstone exhales. Helga follows suit, and her sisters also let go of their breaths that they both held during the suspense.
Helga takes the chance to ask Brimstone in a low voice, “What’s going on, sir?”
“One second,” Brimstone responds. The sound of a door creaking slowly open and then closed comes over the phone as Helga waits on Brimstone to answer. She starts to tap her foot impatiently.
“Hurry up!” she shouts.
“SHHHHHH! She’ll HEAR YOU! I’m switching my hiding spot. You’ll have to wait.”
“UGH! I don’t have time for this, sir. Call me when you’ve relocated,” Helga slams the phone down on the receiver.
Startled by the loud slamming of the phone, Agnes and Ursa snap their attention to Helga, both of them about to say something when the phone rings again. Grabbing the phone Helga answers, “Mr. Jenkins, this isn’t funny.”
A young man on the other line answers, “Mr. Jenkins? No, this is Jay. Helga, I need you and your sisters’ help.”
Ursa mouths, “Who is it?” and Agnes nods in agreement of the question.
Helga mouths, “It’s Jay.”
Closing her eyes and sighing into the phone, Helga answers, “Look, Jay, today isn’t a good day. Can we help you later this week?”
“No, it’s kind of urgent,” he insists.
“Everything is urgent with you.” Helga replies back.
“Helga, please listen—”
She cuts him off, “Your crisis is going to have to wait. We have more urgent matters to attend to instead of dealing with your teenage wizard drama.”
He grumbles, frustrated, and says, “Argh, just listen—”
“Nope,” Helga replies, hanging up on Jay.
Ursa butts in, “Helga, what if there really is an emergency with Jay?”
“Pffft, yeah right,” Helga laughs, “That boy thinks morning issues are a magical problem. He’ll get over it.”
Pursing her lips, Ursa replies, “What if it really IS an emergency?” Agnes nods as she takes another bite out of her sandwich.
Agnes, with her mouth full, adds, “Besides, what other matters are urgent? We don’t have any.”
Scowling, Helga juts out her chin and narrows her eyes at Agnes. She takes two steps towards Agnes who gulps loudly. Helga points her finger at Agnes and shakes it, “No urgent matters? NO URGENT MATTERS?”
Helga takes another step closer, and Agnes bumps into the table. Helga continues, “Have you forgotten, you mil headed ninny?”
Agnes squeaks, “Yes.”
Helga grabs the sides of Agnes’s blue apron and shakes her back and forth as she shouts, “I. CAN’T. USE. MY. POWERS! YOU. NIN-COM-POOP!!”
She releases Agnes who falls back against the table toppling the dish that held her sandwich. It clatters to the floor. Helga stands there, opening and closing her fists, still fuming with anger.
Agnes looks at the dish on the floor, pouting, “Darnit, there goes the rest of my lunch . . .”
Helga lunges at Agnes. With a flick of her right wrist Ursa magically commands a chair to fling into Helga. It knocks her to the ground.
Agnes, grinning, strides forward, shoving her sleeves up her arms and waving her spatula at Helga, “Ha ha! Now that you’re pinned . . .”
With the flick of her other wrist, Ursa magically lifts another chair and launches it in Agnes’s direction. Agnes jumps back as the chair knocks the spatula out of her hand.
Ursa holds her left hand out at Agnes, ordering, “Stop, just stop.”
Agnes frowns, turning slowly towards Ursa to ask, “Why’d you stop me?”
“We have to stop fighting,” Ursa replies as a slight trickle of sweat streams down her face, for she did work two spells at once without a wand. If she had a wand like Agnes, then she could work more than one spell without so much of a strain. She still has Helga pinned to the floor.
Helga shouts, “I would hardly call this fighting. If anything . . . this is called ganging up on me—like both of you usually do.”
“Oh shut it,” Agnes shouts at Helga. Stepping closer and then bending down, she says, “I’m Helga, and I never get things my way . . . oh woe is me . . . my magic is bound. OHH I can’t do any spells . . . oh boo-hoo-hoo.”
Helga growls pushing as hard as she can against the chair that has her pinned to the floor.
Ursa yells, “AGNES!”
Dusting her hands Agnes picks up her spatula from the floor, saying, “Seems to me SOMEONE NEEDS to be taught a lesson.” She looks up the spatula handle to inspect it for any warping or cracks.
Ursa warns, “Agnes, don’t you dare.”
Helga starts to thrash on the floor as Agnes continues, “Me? What would I do? Why . . . I’m sooo forgetful . . . right? That I’ll forget what I’m doing . . .” She walks slowly around the chair.
Helga screams, “LET ME UP! LET ME UP! SHE’S GOT THAT LOOK!”
A puckish glint gleams in Agnes’s eyes as she continues to circle Helga like a shark.
Helga pleas, “Ursa, let me up . . . You see that look in her eyes . . . Please, please, please let me up.”
Ursa watches Agnes while also concentrating her magic on holding Helga down. She glances between the sisters as though trying to decide who is the more dangerous one.
Agnes continues in a serene voice, “It’s not like I can follow through with a simple threat without getting distrac—”
She whirls around and snaps her spatula at Helga, calling out, “SQUIRREL!”
One minute Helga is her usual pudgy self, pinned on the floor by a chair, and the next she is a very chubby squirrel running full speed at Ursa.
Ursa screams, “EEK! A RAT! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!”
She tries to run away from it. She jumps onto the table as the squirrel scurries around the base. Agnes slaps her own thigh as she doubles in half from laughter.
Raven, their black cat, emerges from one of the shelves under the counter. Its bell tinkles as it moves along the countertop. The ears on its head twitch as its tail swishes back and forth while it scans the room. Ursa sees Raven and pleas, “Agnes, change her back. Please change her back.”
Agnes snorts, “No, it’s an improvement.”
“I can’t have my sister be a rat,” Ursa shudders, “I can’t stand rodents.”
“She’s a squirrel,” Agnes laughs, “not a rat.”
“PLEASE change her back,” Ursa begs while staring down at the chubby squirrel trying to work her way up the table and then back at Raven who quietly landed on the floor, slowly stalking Helga who is unaware of her own impending doom.
“Why? She’s perfect as a squirrel. Less trouble she’ll get into,” Agnes chuckles, “You did see her records, right?”
Ursa moves her legs closer to her chest. “Yes, but—”
“No buts,” Agnes replies, “She’s better in this form. Less trouble AND less bruised shins, right?”
“Ugh,” Ursa whines, “I can’t stand rodents. They’re so icky.”
The cat gets closer to Helga who turns around in time to see Raven crouch down. Helga jumps up squeaking loudly. She runs for Agnes scantily escaping the cat’s extended paw. Helga aims for Agnes in hopes that her older sister will save her fuzzy squirrel butt. She races by Agnes with the cat in hot pursuit. Agnes swoops down and snatches up the cat.
Helga, out of breath, leans up against the counter as her little furry chest puffs in and out. She watches Agnes place Raven on the bookcase and bop
the feline on the nose with a sleeping spell. The cat curls up into a ball and falls asleep.
“There, that should do it.” Agnes turns back to her sisters. “Raven should be out for awhile.”
“See?” Ursa says, “Raven’s why Helga cannot be a squirrel.”
“Bah,” Agnes replies, “maybe her having a few scrapes with the cat will improve her attitude.”
The phone rings. Everyone in the shop stops. Ursa, Helga the squirrel, and Agnes all look at the phone, waiting for it to ring again.
It rings again, and then they all scramble to answer it. Helga being on all fours beats her sisters to the phone but is unable to lift it off of the receiver.
Ursa stays on the table watching because she can’t stand rodents even if the squirrel IS her sister. Agnes grabs Helga by the tail pulling her away from the phone and then answers it.
“Baubles and Brews, how can I—OUCH!” Agnes starts to answer, but Helga bites her on the arm.
The phone clatters to the floor.
Agnes shouts after Helga, “YOU WICKED LITTLE THING! BITE ME, WILL YOU? I’LL SHOW YOU!”
Agnes tries to swat Helga again but gets bitten on the hand, making her drop her spatula.
“SHHHH,” Brimstone says.
Helga scrambles down Agnes who hops around madly because of the several squirrel bites. She scurries up to the phone, asking, “Squeee?”
“I don’t have much time,” Brimstone whispers, “She knows most of my hiding spots now.”
Helga tries to ask, “What do you need?” but it all comes out as squirrel chatter, “Squee scree squeak?”
Brimstone mildly says in a hushed tone, “Cute, look . . . like I said . . . I don’t have much time before she finds me. You see, you made a mistake with the potions, so that I ended up giving our lady a love potion. I need you to make an antidote for the love potion . . . for FREE.”
Helga squeaks, “SQREE? [WHAT?]”
“Cut the chipmunk talk. I don’t have time for this . . . Shhhh, she’s coming.” Brimstone becomes quiet.
A door is heard opening, along with a few dainty steps. “Brimmy? Are you in here, my love? Come now, Brimstone. I know you are here somewhere. I heard you a minute ago.”
Brimstone remains quiet over the line as Lady Ava calls into the room where he is hiding.
The door closes, and he waits a minute before releasing his breath. He continues, “In addition I would like the correct potion to be ready when I come to get the antidote.”
The squirrel places her hands on her hips, squeaking vibrantly into the phone, “Scree squee squee squeak squeak scree [AS IF! You’ve got another thought coming IF you think you’re gonna get these for FREE!]”
Agnes snatches Helga by the tail again and flings her across the room. Helga chitters loudly as she lands on Ursa, who screams, “EEK! AGNES!”
Agnes picks up the phone. “Sorry, sir, what do you need?” Agnes asks.
Frustrated, Brimstone shouts, “AUGH! YOU GIRLS ARE WORTHLESS! I NEED AN ANTIDOTE AND A REPLACEMENT POTION!”
Brimstone utters, “Oh no . . .”
Hurried footsteps become louder and then comes the sound of doors busting open with a shrill of delight coming from Lady Ava’s voice, “BRIMMY, APPLE OF MY EYE! HERE YOU ARE!”
More shuffling sounds along with thuds are heard as Brimstone cries, “ACK!”
Kissing sounds become louder over the phone, and Agnes winces as she holds the phone away from her ear.
The sound of fumbling occurs before Brimstone gasps, “Have them . . . (ack, not there . . .) ready . . . (hee-ho-ho-hee) this . . . (ah, stop . . . please) ,” Lady Ava is heard giggling as Brimstone struggles to finish his sentence, “. . . afternoon . . . (eek!) . . . or else!”
Another loud thump is heard before the line goes dead.
Agnes peers at the phone, “Who the heck is Brimmy?”
“I don’t know.” Ursa said while cupping Helga the squirrel in her hands then shuffles up to Agnes. Holding Helga up to Agnes, Ursa glances away.
Agnes, on the other hand, sneers back at Helga, picking her up between her fingers, snarling, “You little brat. Why should I turn you back after YOU BIT ME?”
Helga shrugs her little squirrel shoulders while her bushy tail tries to swish back and forth.
Ursa hands Agnes her spatula, pleading, “Please, Agnes. You’re the eldest. Show her that even someone as rotten as she is can be forgiven.”
Taking the spatula, Agnes ponders Ursa’s words, deciding, “Ehhh, as much as I would like to keep you in this form . . . Ursa is right.”
She places Helga down on the floor. Stepping back, she waggles the spatula at Helga and declares, “Normalize!”
The squirrel stands on her hind legs, waiting for the spell to take effect. In a flash of bright light the hint of shadows of her form morphing from squirrel to human occur.
Within seconds Helga is no longer a squirrel but her usual pudgy self. She blinks a few times and then gets up from the floor. She examines herself to make sure that no squirrel appendages are left behind. Knowing her older sister, there could be a chance for a squirrel likeness to have remained. Her black dress with the standard blue apron hangs on her shapely form.
Lifting one finger into the air she opens her mouth to say something to her older, taller sister but then stops when Agnes smacks the spatula into her right palm.
Stepping between the two, Ursa asks, “Agnes, if you could change Helga so easily, why could you not do that for the customer, earlier this morning?”
Tapping her chin Agnes looks at the ceiling, “Hmmm, good question . . . I guess . . . I guess I forgot that I could do that.”
The other two fall face forward, shocked, even though they expect that type of answer from Agnes.
“Humph,” Helga remarks, “If you had ‘remembered’ that this morning, then MAYBE I would still be able to do magic.”
Agnes hitches her hip to one side, narrows her eyes, and then says, “Well, maybe if someone did not depend on others to clean up their messes, then MAYBE someone would still be able to do magic.”
Ursa yells, “Stop it. We have other things to discuss . . . like what does that weirdo Mr. Jenkins want?”
Helga, curling her lip, answers, “Free potions.”
Agnes flaps her hand at Helga, saying, “Shush. He wants an antidote, for what I don’t know, and another potion of some sort . . . which I don’t know.”
Ursa challenges, “Helga, do you know?”
“Of course I know!”
Ursa bows and gestures her hand in an opening-like fashion, “Then by all means, continue, please.”
Helga continues, “Mr. Jenkins wants an antidote for the love potion,” she holds up her hand to tell her sisters to keep quiet, “and a re-make of his original potion which is my extra special energy drinks.”
Agnes points out, “Wait, how’d he get the love potion? That’s Mabel’s potion.”
Rolling her eyes, Helga responds, “Obviously!”
Ursa adds, “The potions got mixed up? How?”
Helga eyes Ursa, agreeing, “Hmm, good question. Considering that one of you knuckleheads was in charge of these last few orders . . .”
Reaching into her top apron pocket, she goes on, “Which reminds me,” she pulls out the crumpled piece of paper, “Does either one of you know what this is?”
Ursa’s eyes grow wide, but she quickly bites her bottom lip.
Agnes grabs the crumpled piece of paper and straightens it out. “Hmm, looks like a label.” She squints her eyes reading the label, “It says, ‘Vivacious Vixen.’”
Helga glances over at Ursa who is busy with her smartphone, not making eye contact with either sister.
“Ursa, do you know anything about this label?” Helga asks.
“Er, no,” Ursa replies, not looking up from her phone.
“Are you sure?” Helga grills, leaning towards her sister.
Ursa’s fingers flick a few times at the phone screen before she answ
ers, “I’m quite sure . . . Agnes, what about you?”
“Why do I feel like you’re hiding something, Ursa?” Helga inquires.
“I’m not hiding anything, Helga.” Ursa sniffs, flicking a few more times at the screen of her phone, still not looking up, asking again, “What about Agnes? You know how she forgets stuff.”
Helga turns around to Agnes, “Yeah, what about you, Agnes? Didn’t you help label the last batch?”
Agnes moves her hands frantically in front of her. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa . . . I did not have a hand in this at all. I was busy making a sandwich at the time that these were labeled and packaged up.”
“Food! It’s always food with you.” Helga throws her hands up into the air. “Doesn’t your gullet ever have a bottom to it?”
“HEY! Leave my tummy out of this,” Agnes pushes back, “I can’t help it if I got to eat.”
Helga, crossing her arms, says, “Humph, makes me wonder if you placed a spell where ALL the weight from the food that you eat gets sent to me instead.”
Agnes sighs, “Whatever. It wasn’t me this time . . .”
Helga and Agnes turn their heads towards Ursa. Helga asks, “So, what were you doing, Ursa?”
Ursa shrinks down a little and replies, “I guess I labeled the bottles, but I don’t really remember clearly. I do remember that I was late to a podcast, so I had Jay take care of the rest.”
Both sisters eye Ursa a little harder.
“I SWEAR I did not mess these potions up!” Ursa cries.
They both shrug and sigh. Agnes turns to Helga, “What were YOU doing during that time?”
Gesturing towards herself, Helga says in an exasperated manner, “ME? Making more potions. It was a special order of energy drinks. I printed out the labels, placed them on the counter, and told YOU to label the potions.”
The three sisters stood there staring at one another waiting for the other to fess up on who messed up the orders.
Ursa pipes up, “How many orders do you think got swapped?”
Agnes shakes her head. “Dunno. I didn’t count the bottles or look at the order sheets.”
“Thirty-two,” Helga answers.
“Thirty-two?” Agnes and Ursa bust out in unison.
Potion of the Hound Page 7