What did it matter?
She wondered if Oscar was watching her from his own window, though she doubted he could see her where she stood even if he wanted to.
What a shame.
She had had him where most any man or woman would have dared to dream to have such an amazing, handsome, talented star. He was right there in bed. In Bed! They had both been tipsy. Why did she waste time talking about ghosts when she just should have snuggled up with him instead? Or locked her lips with his when he was talking about weird things?
No wonder I’m alone.
Dorothy hurried on by a couple more stores and then ducked into an alleyway. She put the broom against the wall and rubbed her arms, trying to shake the chill.
Was it Alloysius in the window? One of the maids?
Why did it matter if someone was looking out the window at the sunrise?
Did Oscar regret kicking her out?
Get a grip!
Dorothy yawned. The sun was rising rapidly now, and it looked like it was going to be a warm, if not hot, spring day. She hopped on her broom and certain that there was no one nearby on the streets, she rose up and then flew home.
Chapter Ten
The Devil: Lust and obsession fuels temptation.
When Dorothy arrived home, she leaned her broom against the wall and then sat on her couch with a heavy sigh. She stared at the TV but it wasn’t on.
The whole way home she wondered just what the hell had happened.
When she left the bed and breakfast, she had flown over by the lighthouse and Lucy’s house for a while, trying to understand all the crazy things that were going on that night. As she hovered over Lucy’s back garden, she saw that all the leaves that had been collected were gone, presumably put away by her staff.
She had taken a few minutes to stop in one of Lucy’s gardens and scoop up a handful of soil and put it into her cloak pocket. She did the same at the beach by the lighthouse.
What a night!
Dorothy reflected on all the craziness of the past 24 hours. She had just about died from mermaids, more than once even, then she was nearly rewarded for her celebrity crush only to be tossed out by him. She thought about what Oscar had said about a person threaded together.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone was haunted in this manner.
Even though Oscar had been scared, she didn’t believe that he was in any real danger there. Otherwise there wouldn’t be a successful bed and breakfast for him to stay at. That building would have been an old abandoned house that no one would want to go visit, let alone pay money—a lot of money—to stay the night at.
Some people like to get scared; they work with Ouija boards, others don’t mind seeing ghosts and still others do mind seeing ghosts. Many people couldn’t handle the idea that haunted houses were real.
She wondered what had happened that made her look translucent to him. Had she ever appeared translucent before to people? It was likely a trick of the light, the night light shining shadows from the mirror and bouncing off her pale skin. It had been nice to see the sun more than a day or two at a time recently, but it was barely spring and there were still more days of gloom than there were sun ahead.
She closed her eyes and tried to feel inside his head.
He wasn’t letting her in.
“Okay, here we go.”
She lit the candles on her altar and then a stick of incense.
She spread out his gym towel on the floor. Then she took some salt from her alter, a big handful of salt and sprinkled along the ground, making a circle around the towel and a space where she could sit next to the towel. After she did that, she took the comb that she had stolen from his room and was pleased to see some hair in the teeth. She rolled the comb and hair up into the towel. Then she sat cross-legged inside the salt circle and put the towel in her lap. She closed her eyes and put her hands lightly on her knees. She grounded herself, pulling in focus.
A ball of flames erupted before her, the heat so powerful that she smelled her own hair singeing. She jumped up.
“Get back, be gone, whatever you are!” she commanded the fireball.
It rolled around the towel, leaving smoke rings, and then rolled along the salt circle, blackening the salt as it rolled by. It puffed out into a gigantic ball of colorful flames and then poofed out.
Dorothy’s heart was racing.
“Okay, I get it. Go to bed.”
Before she readied herself for bed, she remembered the dirt she had gathered. She went into the kitchen and took the little pot that she had put some of the island dirt into. She added the dirt from Lucy’s garden and from the lighthouse. She mixed them all together. Then she took the tin that held the plant and opened it.
The plant twitched as she gently put it into the pot. She carefully covered the roots. The broken leaves were a bit wilted until she added a bit of water. The plant seemed happier, stronger, and she put it on the windowsill.
* * *
“That’ll be $4.95. Please,” Dorothy said. As she waited for the customer in front of her to fumble through her purse, Dorothy rolled her eyes wondering why the hell people always acted like it was a surprise they had to pay at the end of their grocery experience. Her feet hurt even though she had the new cushioned mat that she actually bought at the sports store to try and help her with the long hours at the till. She had done a bit of a spell and even soaked her feet in anointment of oils but there was only so much the body could cope with between gravity and endless hours of standing with no relief.
If only she could float all day at work as she floated over the sharp rocks at the beach. But of course, she couldn’t do that at the store.
She thought longingly of her broomstick and wondered if she could ride it after work. Even though half the town were witches only a small portion of them thought there was magic that included broomstick rides. Most were pretty much just parlor witches or kitchen witches using their magical combinations to cure colds or to create delicious if not trance-inducing delicacies.
Dorothy was glad to have the distraction of work since the rejection from Oscar was too much to bear. She needed to get his attention again and she needed him to not be afraid of her.
How could she prove herself?
She had discovered that he had two days off. Today and the next. She’d gone to the production office while it was closed, and she had managed to let herself in to see the schedules.
If Oscar had some time off, she had time to work on him. Since he was single, he presumably wouldn’t be running off to be with anyone far away in his off time so hopefully he would stay in town. Then she could have a chance to charm him properly as he should be charmed. As long as no other witch was going after him as well.
The annoying fumbling person was gone and she cashed out a few more customers.
Toni came through her line, buying a few items. She smiled.
“Hey! So how did it go with you guys the other night after I left?”
“We had a nice talk. I appreciate it, thank you. I really do think he’s a great guy still.” Tony didn’t smile. “Well, he an odd duck, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I mean, yeah, he’s an odd duck but I didn’t think he was strange. He’s just an actor, right?”
“He came in while I was working yesterday, before he had to go to set. I asked to read his palm.”
“Oh, really?” Dorothy asked. “Tell me, what you see in there?”
“It was a very dark and twisted road that I saw in his hand.”
“For an actor? Maybe because he’s had some dark and twisted roles. He seemed pretty on the up-and-up around me.”
“He has secrets, that’s for sure. But he is single, that much is very sure.”
“Good! I thought he was too. I even kind of poked into his mind a little bit but you know I’m not a mind reader, I’m a crystal ball reader so I wasn’t sure if my intuition was correct with him. I mean, he told me with his mouth that he’s single but
we all know how the tongue can lie, whether we mean it to or not.”
“Don’t I know it!” Toni said.
“So, is he an asshole? Was he a wife beater? What gives? What’s wrong?” Dorothy asked.
“It’s not that he’s abusive cuz he’s not. He does have a hot temper but he’s never hit anyone that I could tell. I feel he has dark passions, he really gets obsessed over people and ideas. He’s paranoid really... a lot of paranoia. I think he had some bad times with drugs in the past. He may have a drug struggle right now even,” Toni said.
“The only drugs he talked about to me were pot and booze and those are both legal. People can have their dark demons with alcohol, I guess, but he didn’t seem... at least in the time I saw him, like an out of control drunk. Of course, he is in show biz...”
“No, no. He didn’t seem to overly indulge any other times I’ve waited on him. No more than any other man his size and age. I mean, some may say drinking at all is a problem. However, he’s in show biz and he looked to me like he could handle his booze. As for weed, loads of people smoke weed these days and that’s really a de-stresser, a way to keep us all eating!”
“He didn’t say anything to me about cocaine although I didn’t bring it up and neither did he. But he may have other issues.”
“Just stay clear because the stuff with his wife seemed rather complicated even though he doesn’t have children and it does appear he didn’t cheat on her. I suspect she cheated on him, multiple times, and I suspect she was jealous of his fame,” Toni said.
“I agree absolutely,” Dorothy said. “Just reading between the lines of his online bio and the few times of interacted with him, that’s pretty much how I see it, too. I guess I have to be careful.”
Dorothy took a deep breath.
“Toni,” Dorothy said. “He’s afraid of me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Toni said. She realized someone had come up behind her in the cashier line. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Dorothy said. “I didn’t mean to get talking to my friend here, I didn’t see you come up.”
“That’s all right,” said the customer. I know what it’s like to work long hours.”
“We’ll talk later,” Toni said. “Give me a call.”
Dorothy didn’t call Toni but Toni’s comments did weigh heavily on her mind. She turned them over and over in her head for the rest of the day as she checked customers through her line.
* * *
Once home and armed with her new information, she sat with the towel rolled up and her tools nearby. She perched very large crystal ball on top of it. The crystal ball was wrapped in a velvet cloth. Once she had the ball balanced, she removed the velvet cloth.
Dorothy waved her hands over the crystal ball, testing its energy. She took a smudge stick and lit it up. She held the bowl of sand that was also by her side underneath it as she bathed the glowing crystal in the soft spiralling grey curls of smoke rising from the smudge stick.
The crystal sparkled with translucence, its clear cuts and mottled lines, inclusions peppering it. She plunged the smudge stick into the sand until she was certain it was extinguished.
She returned the stick and bowl to her altar. She plucked up a vial of elixir. She sprinkled a few drops of it onto the ball and the towel and the comb. A sweet perfume scent filled the room, mixing with the sage. She wiped the elixir into her ball with trembling fingers. The drops disappeared into the glass.
She waved her hands over the crystal ball.
She closed her eyes for a minute, breathing deeply in-and-out. The strong odor of the smudge filled her senses.
“Show me what I need to see,” she asked it.
She opened her eyes and stared into the ball, watching the swirls inside go from nothing into whirling and swirling lines and colors. Images danced, going from a standstill into whirling vortexes, swirling as a kaleidoscope of miss-matched shapes into elongated limbs. Spherical circles became humanoid shadow figures with glowing figures dancing in waltzing across the interior of the ball, gliding from one side to the other and swooping up-and-down.
She stared into the crystal ball. The figures dancing swirled into more jagged and angry movements. They looked like they were fighting or pushing instead of gliding up-and-down. They morphed into each other, bouncing off each other, shooting through each other or tearing at each other, gripping a limb from one and hitting another with the rest. The crystal ball grew darker. A spiralling swirl of blackness curled up from the bottom of the ball, spreading like a vein or blossoming tree until the entire sphere was completely black.
Dorothy felt nothing. Then she held her hands over the ball and they tingled furiously. The whirls grew darker as her hands went from tingling to burning. White hot sparks shot from her fingers. Some of the sparks bounced off the crystal ball, leaving more inclusions, only this time, they were on the outside of the ball. She pulled her hands away so as not to burn the ball more. She continued to stare at the ball and she realized that as she moved her hands away, the ball was able to gain a bit of clarity in the blackness. It swirled back to gray. Inside, the battle with the stick people continued.
Interesting.
Dorothy stood on the outside of the circle and the ball returned to its original clear state.
“Well, I guess you see how that’s all working,” she said. She stepped closer to the ball and with every step closer, the ball grew darker, spiralling once more to pitch black. She put her hands near it, causing her hands to spark yet again.
“Ouch!”
She stood up and backed away.
My energy is somehow disturbing the ball’s energy. Fine. I’m not sure if it’s the ball’s power I’m disrupting or if it’s Oscar’s energy since I am asking about Oscar and I’m using his articles.
She looked again at the ball. She picked up the velvet cover for the ball and draped it over top so that her sparking fingers wouldn’t burn the ball any further. Her fingers stopped sparking when they touched the velvet.
She carefully wrapped up the ball and returned it to its rightful place on one of the large freestanding crystal ball stands over against the far wall. She gently put the ball down and pulled the cover away, stepping back.
The ball was fine, or rather, back to normal. It didn’t swirl, it wasn’t black or grey. It had returned to its regular quartz clearness with a few inclusions.
It wasn’t even scuffed even though she had feared dropping it at one point.
I guess we know the answer to that one.
I must have done something wrong with that spell. I wonder what I did.
AHhhh... .
She rushed into the kitchen and went over to the plant that was growing in a little glass bowl by the window. The plant had already tripled in size since she had brought it home. There were even tiny buds growing on it that were kind of peanut-shaped and, surprisingly, peanut- sized. The other leaves were thick and bushy and even though it had just started off as roots and a few broken leaves, it was growing quite heartily as any normal plant would grow.
She plucked several leaves from the plant. She placed three on the windowsill to dry. She took the others into the living room and mashed them with her mortar and pestle. She took the mashed pulp to her altar and added in one of the many elixirs that she kept there.
There was a high-pitched squeal that seemed like it might be coming from the kitchen. She ignored it, figuring it was likely a bird flying around outside.
She mashed the pulp and elixir together. A steamy smoke rose from the container. A new pungent fragrance filled the room.
She returned to the kitchen and grabbed some oven mitts. She didn’t know if her fingers would spark again and she didn’t want to destroy anything.
It wasn’t easy, but she was able to navigate the container and poured a couple of drops of the new elixir onto a towel.
A delicious fragrance wafted into the room, a combination of flowers and a musky scent along with Oscar’s natural smells.
She went into the kitchen to look for the source of the high-pitched squealing sound.
She looked up to the ceiling and down on the floor. She even opened a couple of the cupboards.
She still didn’t see anything and she wondered if there was a mouse caught somewhere or maybe a raccoon or something. She couldn’t imagine what would make such a noise. Maybe it was something in the walls.
When she returned to the room, the crushed leaves had turned into many plants. They were circling and growing like vines around the towel. Dorothy watched in surprise as the plants were not only growing but they were weaving around the towel, like they were knitting a sweater for it. They grew and weaved until the towel was completely covered in vines.
When they seemed to be finished, Dorothy reached for the plant encased towel. This time her fingers didn’t spark.
Wow, it made a covering for me. How cool is that? No wonder the witches want to keep these plants to themselves.
Dorothy carefully placed the plant encased towel onto her altar.
Chapter Eleven
Four of Cups: Keep an open heart and open mind.
Oscar was walking with his entourage through the market on Saturday afternoon. It was his day off, Dorothy knew. She was sitting at Maggie’s stall, hoping, well, knowing he’d come by her aisle at some point. She and Maggie had both put a spell on him that he would come through the market at some point on Saturday afternoon to check out all the various wares and to see what he might find out about his future; his love life and his career.
Taurus: A Hearse of a Different Color Page 13