Frozen Father [FICTION]

“Janie?!?” My mother’s normally inflectionless voice pours out of the phone with nuances of meaning wrapped around my name.

“What happened?” My heart clenches behind my ribs, refusing to beat again until she reassures me.

“Something has happened to your father…” She takes in a deep breath in order to release a sob.

I wait for her to continue.

“What?” I finally ask as the sobs continue.

“He has been frozen solid. It’s almost like someone cast a spell on him.”

In inhale sharply and mutter, “This is my fault.”

“What. darling?”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom. I know just what to do.”

“Are you sure?” The hope in her voice tugs at my heart, amplifying my guilt.

“Of course, mom. Call me if anything changes.”

“You, too, honey.” She says absently and the phone goes dead.

I take a few deep breaths to brace myself and quickly place another call. As the phone stops ringing, a familiar laugh floats out of the speaker to taunt me.

“Janie, I knew you couldn’t let me go.” Joshua croons.

“Joshua, you warlock…”

“You know it, baby,” he interrupts. “I’ve cast a spell on you.”

“You mean on my father!” I exclaim in exasperation.

“Whatever works to get you to come around.”

“I am not coming around. You need to undo whatever you did.”

“Sorry, hon. I can’t discuss this over the phone.”

Another call rings through as I begin to reply. “Gotta go.” I mutter. “I’ll deal with you later.” I switch over to my mother. “Did something happen? Is daddy okay?”

“He is still frozen, dear, but now he looks like he is in pain.” My mother wails.

“I’ve got this, mom. Keep me posted.”

I barely remember the roads between my apartment and Joshua’s townhouse. I stare at his mammoth SUV with distaste as I step out of my tiny, fuel-efficient hybrid. 

“Opposites attract.” Joshua whispers as his breath caresses my neck.

“Stop doing that,” I wheel around to face him, feeling the skin all over my body crawling.

“You used to like for me to breath on your neck.” He grins lecherously.

“I have gotten smarter since then.”

He frowns at me. “So you like your pop-sicle?”

“No. And you won’t like yours either if you don’t reverse whatever you did to my father.” I raise my hand and point menacingly at him.

He laughs, a deep rumble that keeps rolling until I flick my wrist. His good humor gives way to a cry of pain as a small flame blossoms from the collar of his t-shirt.

As he finishes patting out the flame, he glares at me incredulously. “You couldn’t have.”

“But I did.”

“But you know nothing of magic.”

“I didn’t until you used it against me.”

“And now, I will use it against you every time you try to do so again.” I flick my wrist in the opposite direction and his waistband erupts in blue flames.

He screams, throwing himself to the ground to extinguish the flames. I step on his chest to keep him from getting up again. 

“Care to reverse that spell before I try something new?”

“You witch.”

“Indeed. Want to see how much of a witch I am?”

His eyes widen and he mumbles something under his breath. I frown at him, letting spells run through my head as I decide which will get the best response. As I decide on the perfect one, my mother’s ringtone pierces the air. I push my foot down a little harder to keep Josh from getting ideas or interrupting as I answer the phone.

“Yes, mom?”

“I am not your mother.” My father’s voice rumbles through the speaker, weak but still laced with his normal good humor.

“Dad, so good to hear from you.” I lift my foot from Josh’s chest.

As he sits up, I raise my finger in warning. He lays back down and watches me leave. I glare at him as I back up my car. He smiles and I flick my wrist. His pants erupt in flames again. I roll up the window to block out his screams of fear as he smothers the flames. As I drive away, my father tells me about his strange experience.

~~~I feel like you would have liked something more scary. Though this might be scary to exes, who don't want to get a little of their own misused magic back. Hope you are gearing up for a fabulous Halloween. Candy and costumes for the the win, my friends.~~~

The Worst Disappearance [FICTION]

“Thanks, mom.” Jimmy’s grin, minus his two front teeth, is everything I needed for my efforts to find the perfect birthday gift.

I have long since outgrown the wonder of magic tricks, but he still has that look of wonder in his eyes when someone picks his card or produces a coin from behind his ear. Anyone but me, that is. My slow fingers always bumble every trick I try, so I leave that to my husband. I glance over to see him staring as intently as our son at the closed curtains. I shake my head a little, wishing I could still catch hold of that wonder. For now, I content myself to borrow some of their wonder.

After a few simple card tricks, the Amazing Max moves on to giant metal rings. Having explored the secrets behind the magic of most of these as a teenager, I remain impassive, only smiling in response to Jimmy’s exhilarated enthusiasm. 

“And this is the moment that separates one lucky audience member form the rest,” he intones with a flourish. “So who will it be?”

Jimmy leaps to his feet and the magician’s eyes fall on him as I put my hand on his shoulder. “Please sit down, honey.”

“Let the boy have some fun.” My husband whispers to me.

I frown at him but slowly pull my hand back as the magician steps toward us with his cane extended.

“A young magician wants to help show us what true magic is.” He booms as he steps forward to extend a hand to my son.

As I reach out again to hold him back, my husband wraps his arms around me. “It’s okay, hon, let the kid have some fun.”

I let him pull me into his arms and hold me tight. Jimmy takes the magician’s hand and steps toward the stage. I watch anxiously. I can’t hear any of the presentation as my eyes focus on my son and I struggle to distract my mind from the tension building in my gut. 

I inhale sharply as he draws the curtain across the front of the Closet of Invisibility. I don’t start breathing again when it opens to reveal a now empty cabinet. My husband’s arms tighten around me.

“This is the way the trick works.” He hisses in my ear before giving me a peck on the cheek. “Just wait.”

I nod my head, tuning my ears back into the magician’s rhetoric. “And now, I shall make the young magician rejoin us. Abracadabra.” He spreads out the last word for emphasis before pulling back the curtain.

I start breathing again, but the ragged breaths border on a panic attack as I look into the still empty closet. “James?!?!” I turn to my husband as he releases me from his embrace and stands up.

He doesn’t answer. Instead he takes ten long strides to the stage. I am right on his heels as they pound the gleaming hardwood. The magician turns to us, eyes wide. His eyes seek out the stage manager, who pulls the curtains closed, blocking our view of the obviously flustered magician and his assistant whose face shows both worry and terror as they disappear behind yards of heavy red velvet. My husband heads toward the stage manager, holding out his hand to suggest I should stay where I am.

Undeterred, I fight may way through the heavy fabric. On the other side, the magician and his assistant flee toward opposite ends of the stage, peering into the shadows. I place my hand over my heart, trying to sooth myself with its rhythmic beating. I close my eyes and listen to their footsteps.

“James.” I call out as I slowly open my eyes.

The magician and his assistant both turn toward me, glaring daggers. Then they remember they just lost my son and turn their eyes back to the floor without a word.

“That’s right. Don’t glare at me.” I mumble under my breath

Soft giggling reaches my ears from the back of stage. The tension on my heart releases as I step through the curtain again. I follow the soft sound until my feet bring me to the curtain at the back of the stage. A small hand reaches out to pat my shoe. I sink to my knees, lifting the heavy curtain until I see my son’s mischievous face.

He laughs as he launches himself into my arms and the tears I have been holding back finally break free and course down my cheeks.

~~~Hope this little bit of a mother’s terror was worth the wait. It has been a long week. Longer for some I love than for me. Feel free to offer up extra prayers for those you love. They probably need it.~~~

Sensational Surgeon [FICTION]

I hate hospitals, but when one’s best friend tells you she is having a baby, you linger in the waiting room forever in order to be the first to meet your godchild. Well, one of the first. Of course, as I sit impatiently in an uncomfortable padded chair, I meet the other weirdos who couldn’t resist an excuse to inhale the antiseptic smells of the hospital in hushed silence or the soft scuff of nurses shuffling or rushing by in soft-soled shoes.

A little girl snuggles in her father’s arms, waiting to meet a new baby brother or sister. An old woman wanders in and out of a nearby door every ten minutes to lower her mask and pop a hard candy into her mouth. She gives me a sweet smile each time she pulls the mask back up and heads back into the labor and delivery room. Another little man enters the waiting room and scans the room. He gives off a vibe that makes me uncomfortable even from the protection of my obscure corner across the room.

The little man rubs his hands together as he observes me. I shudder and look away. I am not sure what thoughts dance around his brain, but the gleam in his pale eye echoes their demonic dance. I feel his eyes on me still, so I take a few steps further down the hall. I hear shuffling feet following me. I pick up speed, heading for the bend in the hallway. When I reach it, I let out an eek of surprise. The hallway does bend, but two heavy doors bar me from going forward without an I.D. badge. 

“I hoped we could talk,” the man wheezes as he catches up to me.

“That’s okay. I don’t need any.”

He blinks at me, smiling maliciously. “It’s not about you, dear. It’s about me and what I need.”

“Ugh.” I groan and try to push past him.

“I have an offer you can’t refuse,” he says as he takes my arm, gripping it with surprising strength.

I manage to pull free, but as I step forward again, I find an invisible force keeping me trapped in the dead-end hallway. The old man grins, this time revealing crooked teeth. I shudder and push forward again. Invisible arms wrap around me. A hand covers my mouth before I can scream. When my attempts to do so finally subside, he steps forward and leans into me.

“Calm down, girl. You really have no choice except this: you will cooperate or I won’t let you choose which sense gets heightened and which one dies a little.”

As his invisible goon wrenches my arm behind my back and uses it to lever me forward, I ponder those words. None of this makes sense. I’m just an average girl with average problems. How did I end up in this situation?

As if reading my mind comes naturally, the man explains. “You happened to come along right when I was thinking about a new experiment. Call it fate, my dear.”

He giggles before falling into silence. Somehow we manage to run into no one on our way out of the hospital. I guess even a hospital can be quiet at two in the morning.

~~

Despite my struggles, I still find myself in a crude imitation of an operating theater with the surgeon grinning down at me. “Last chance to choose, my dear. Do you want super hearing or super sight? Do you want to hear less of the world’s distractions of smell less of the aromatic wonders?”

He blinks slowly as I stare back at him, fear finally setting in as I realize how deeply his intent runs. “Have it your way. I’ll see you when you wake.”

“But, I…” I finally open my mouth to protest, choking back my words as an anesthesia mask floats over my words.

“Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…” A disembodied voice counts dully as the world around me spins and fades into darkness.

~~

“I don’t want to have my senses altered…” I scream.

I throw my hands up to cover my ears as my own voice thunders in my ears. I lower my voice to a whisper.

“What did you do to me?” It still sounds like I am shouting.

The surgeon’s voice rumbles through my head like a train making its own tunnel through the mountain. “I am sure you can tell me.”

I close my eyes against the pain and realize I only remember seeing the blur of his face. I open my eyes as he waits in silence for my response. The world around me remains blurred and unfocused.

“You took my eyes?” I whisper. 

This time my voice registers so low that it sounds like I am speaking normally.

“No, dear. I just dialed them down, so you can harness the power of those beautiful ears…”

My now unusable eyes weep as soft chuckles surround and overwhelm me as they echo through the room.

~~~Ever worry about losing one thing only to find you have found something else? What if you didn’t have a choice? I am trying to tickle your terror. I hope it worked…a little.~~~

Fortunate Peril [FICTION]

As a rule, I don’t seek out the local fortune teller. I have been known to laugh at her declaration that she can tell the future. Wouldn’t she live someplace besides the rundown blue house on Main Street if she could tell the future? Wouldn’t she have known her sister was going to run off with their inheritance and her fiancé on their twentieth birthday? A real psychic wouldn’t have been blind-sided by something everyone else in the county knew about. 

But even when you want nothing to do with hucksters and snake oil salesmen, they somehow find their way to you. They must enjoy the challenge. Phyllis the Psychic brings her act to me in the produce section of the grocery store. 

I didn’t notice her because I was too involved in my pursuit of the perfect cantaloupe. Between sniffing and knocking and assessing the coloring, a semi truck could have driven by without causing me to raise my head. Phyllis refused to be ignored. She grabbed the cantaloupe from my hands and replaced it with another.

“This is the one you want, dear.” She says as if we didn’t go to high school together.

“Thank you,” I frown as the aroma I have been searching for wafts over me from her selection.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” She turns away but turns back quickly, taking my hand as I pull it away from the cantaloupe I placed in my cart.

“Um.” I try to take my hand back.

She clutches my hand desperately. Her eyes roll back into her head. A low hum emanates from deep in her throat.

“Please let go of my hand,” I hiss, trying to stop the hard sell before it begins.

“Shh. The spirits want me to tell you something.”

“Phyllis, I barely have money for this melon.” I mutter and offer a friendly smile to a couple who have stopped to gawk.

Realizing their attempts to feign disinterest in our conversation have failed, they shuffle toward their next destination.  Phyllis still doesn’t let go of me, but her eyes roll back into their normal position. She leans in until her nose almost touches mine. Her breath smells of lemons and peppermint.

“Don’t insult me. I never asked you for money. The spirits want you to know two things.” She pauses for emphasis waiting for my encouragement. “First, you will finally find your soul mate. Second, you will lose something you love soon after.”

I roll my eyes and finally reclaim my hand. “So I will find the love of my life and then lose him, probably to another woman?” I spit out scornfully, realizing as the words leave my mouth that I have picked the wrong way to express my disbelief.

“You’re cruel…” She fights back tears as she turns from me.

I sigh and return the cantaloupe to the display. I don’t deserve it. I look up and find that members of the audience had doubled back just in time to see the real show. I lower my head, keeping my eyes pointed at the floor as I beat a quick retreat to the door. I stop abruptly as my cart bounces off of something.

“Oomph!” A deep voice exclaims as a man sinks into my line of vision, clutching his knees to his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” I sink to my knees at his side, fully aware that the blood has rushed to my face. “Are you okay?”

He grunts something unintelligible. I stay on my knees at his side as a crowd gathers around us. Soon the doors are completely blocked by rubberneckers and would-be helpers. The store manager finally pushes his way through the crowd. 

“Move along. Move along. What’s going on here?” He addresses me as the crowd disperses.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going and ran into this gentleman with my cart.” I reply sheepishly.

“She sure did.” The man agrees through gritted teeth.

As he slowly uncoils amidst sharp intakes of breath, the manager kneels down to help him. “That smarts, doesn’t it, son?”

“A little bit.” With a little help, he manages to stand up.

“I’m so sorry.” I reach out to take his other arm as the manager steers us away from the door.

He accepts my arm with a look of trepidation. “Watch where you’re going.”

The manager continues to lead us toward the back of the store. “I’ll let you borrow the stockroom for a few minutes to work this out. Anything to keep you from blocking the entrance to the store.”

I murmur my thanks.

The manager pulls out two folding chairs for us and rushes back out to supervise his kingdom of canned goods and essentials.

“Are you feeling any better?” I ask as the man raises his pants leg to inspect his knees. 

Reassured to find no broken skin, he offers me a weak smile. “I think it will bruise, but I should live.”

“Glad to hear that. I am so sorry.” I take a breath an ask the inevitable. “How can I make this up to you?”

He looks up from his knees to take a long look at me, assessing whatever reparation has come into his mind. “As I am sure you have guessed, I am new to town…”

I hadn’t given it much thought. “It is a small town…”

“Maybe you could tell me where the doctor is,” he grins at me, “Or a good place to have lunch?”

“The diner is always good. We have a couple of fast food places near the highway.”

He ponders this. “Should we take this conversation to the diner?” He glances around the storeroom. “This doesn’t seem like the right place to get acquainted.”

I stare at him for a moment, confused why he would want anything more to do with me after I tried to break his knees with a shopping cart.

He grins. “What can I say? I like dangerous women.”

~~~Self-fulfilling prophecy or nothing more than coincidence? ’Tis the season for the spooky, strange, unexplainable, and terrifying.~~~

Surgery Scare [FICTION]

“You’re sure you want to do this?” My mother hovers over me.

I have already reminded her ten times that I can’t eat anything before my surgery, but she still clutches a breakfast burrito in her hand ready to hand it to me at a moment’s notice.  For her, food is love and food wards off any danger to my person. Perhaps she remembers how Hades won Eurydice for half a year by getting her to eat some pomegranate seeds and believes such a ploy will give her more control over the outcome of my surgery. If she had to deal with pangs of gull stones, she wouldn’t be so anxious to keep me intact.

“Mom, we’ve been through this,” I put up my hands to fend off her attempt to wave the breakfast burrito under my nose again.

“But, honey,” she protests as soft-soled feet pad into the room, cutting off her next argument.

“Okay, ladies, give each other a hug. Miss Perry needs to get ready to go down to surgery.” The nurse smiles sweetly at us.

“I can help her,” my mother insists.

“Now, now, Mrs. Perry, you can relax in the waiting room. I’ve heard we have new magazines this week.” She places a gentle hand on my mother’s shoulder and guides her to the door.

My mother continues to protest, but the nurse artfully deflects her and offers assurances that I will remain healthy and safe in as few words as possible. Then she turns to me. She breaths a sigh of relief.

“I can tell how much your mother loves you by how much convincing it took for her to let me do my job.”

“Oh, I know. Trust me I know.”

“So are you ready to be free of gall stones for life?”

“Yes.” I say with a sigh and lay back to pull the blanket up to my chin.

“Glad to hear it. Let’s just double check something.” She draws the sheet down and gentle lifts one corner of my gown. “Yep. Still there.”

I peek down at the x carefully written in over my gall bladder. “You said it was semi-permanent marker and we put it on less than an hour ago.”

“Yes, but your mom seems very determined.”

“Good point.” I giggle as she covers me back up with the sheet and raises the safety bar.

“Time to roll,” she declares as she pushes me out into the hall, where another nurse steps up to the foot of the bed.

I rest my head on the pillow and close my eyes. Watching the hallways with their dull walls spin by makes me dizzy. Soon I am breathing deeply of the gas that will help me sleep through the procedure. As my eyelids drift toward each other, the door opens and a surgeon enters. I try to smile at him and then I realize this surgeon has dark brown eyes. My surgeon has pale blue eyes, almost the color of a clear summer sky.

~~

I wake up in an unfamiliar room. A long, purple curtain separates me from someone moaning sleepily nearby. A few nurses argue in hushed tones about who should be waking up soon. I try to sit up and fall sideways, squeaking in surprise. The voices subside and the curtain moves.

“You’re up early.” One of the nurses pulls back the curtain and steps forward to gently reposition me against the pillow. “Someone will be here soon to help you back to your room.”

I nod my head and nestle back into the pillow. Soon I am resting my eyes as two nurses navigate my bed through the maze of hallways. Back in my room, I find a new nurse waiting to help me with my recovery.

“Hello, Miss Perry,” he greets me, eyeing the reflexive movement of my right hand . “You shouldn’t scratch the incision.”

“But it itches.”

“Then let’s take a look at it, shall we?” He steps forward and waits for me to nod my head before unveiling my stomach. His confusion mirrors mine as gauze and dressing is unveiled that covers my entire midsection. “That’s odd. Dr. Lance was scheduled to do this surgery laparoscopically. There should only be one little square of gauze.”

“And a quick recovery,” I feel tension rising in my chest and temple as I wonder if something went wrong.

“I’ll be right back.” He covers me back up and disappears into the hallway. 

I hear the soft sound of hushed voices. The conversation goes on for a while. Soon I recognize my mother’s voice as she demands admittance. The nurse informs her that I won’t be seeing any visitors until I have spoken with the doctor, which increases the volume and anxiety of her demands. Another voice rises to match hers, leading her away down the hallway.

A few minutes later, two doctors enter the room. Dr. Lance frowns down at his hands, refusing to meet my eyes. The second doctor can’t take his eyes off of me, the same eyes from the operating room. He scans my face over and over, shaking his head in response to some inner turmoil. My nurse returns, giving the doctors the same look I got on my one trip to the principal’s office. He steps forward to take my hand reassuringly. 

“The doctors have something to tell you.”

Dr. Lance gestures toward the new doctor. “This is my colleague, Dr. Newsome. He has an explanation and apology for you.”

Dr. Newsome glares and sets his jaw as he bites out a few words for me. “Our operating room assignments got mixed up, so you received the surgery my patient was supposed to receive and Dr. Lance removed my patient’s perfectly healthy gallbladder.”

“I don’t understand. How could that happen?”

“You both had an x in the same spot since your surgeries were taking place on the right side of your abdomen.” Dr. Lance explains.

“So what surgery did I get?” I ask, feeling anxiety building.

By way of explanation, the nurse gently snips the bandages away. “Dr. Newsome is a plastic surgeon.”  He gently pulls back the gauze, so I can look down at battered striations across one half of my stomach. 

“I don’t understand.” I murmur.

“My patient wanted the appearance of well-defined abdominal muscles on one side of her body.”

“Who would want this?” I weep as I look down at my three pack abs.

“You’d be surprised what people pay to have done to themselves.” The nurse mutters, but closes her mouth tight when the doctor throws him a disapproving look.

“Obviously, Dr. Newsome and I will cover the cost of the surgery and the other two surgeries you will need to make this right.” Dr. Lance assures me.

“Two surgeries?” My eyes widen at the thought of going back into an operating room after this debacle.

“Yes, Miss Perry, I would still like to remove your gallbladder, when you are done recovering from this…” He waves his hand at my abdomen. “And Dr. Newsome has agreed to either reverse this current surgery, which he could do as soon as an operating room opens or do the same thing to the other side.”

I place a protective hand over my unmarred side, looking to the nurse for moral support. “I guess I am going back into surgery to reverse it?”

She squeezes my hand, “I can stay with you, if you like.”

I nod my head. I have only just met the nurse, but I trust her more than either of the doctors.

“Let’s get you ready then.”She turns scolding eye to the doctors, who almost trip over each other in their hurry to get out of the room.

Soon I am dressed in a fresh gown and cap and ready to go under the knife one more time. Hopefully, this time I don’t come back out as a completely different person.

~~~Surgery isn't so scary...as long as there isn't any confusion. Right?~~~