Sweet Menace (12 page)

“Oh, no! I made this because I wanted to; not because I required or needed a paycheck. Dariel owes me nothing.” -I refuted quite offended.

“Come on. Everything costs a price these days. There’s much more food in here than what you charged her. Let me repay the favor. Ten thousand dollars is enough?”

The words
slap him across his whole fat cheeks
crossed my mind quite a few times in just a single second. Hadn’t him understand I told him no?

“Look, this is very uncomfortable. A favor has no price. No money can repay the capacity to make others happy.” -I was flabbergasted by my words of wisdom. -“I did this to help Dariel. If I’ve known she was going to say a word of this, I wouldn’t have done a thing. I hate public appreciation.”

Without waiting for his response I turned around and walked away.

“Wait.” -Viktor held me softly by my left elbow and the electricity I felt was like coming from an FBI taser gun. -“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just a city guy who knows nothing on how to treat independent and well behaved girls.” -He laughed partly in shame.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” –I answered twisting my lips, but the only thing I felt for him was angriness. The only thing I wanted was to go back to my table and send this conversation away. When I diverted my eyes from Viktor and looking for Sam, I found out that he was looking at me with amused face.

“Can I take you to dinner to the city tonight? I bet you want to go there desperately.” -He offered as if I was a naïve little girl and he was a predator offering candies.

Full of disguised disbelief I looked at him. This has to be a joke. For one side, been invited to two dates the same month was a record. Lets be honest. Been invited to one single date in one year was a record for me. The answer to his request was obvious; however I didn’t know the right way to mouth the words. Looking at Sam in search for inspiration, I realized he was holding his breath in expectation. I was grateful for not been the only one chocking for the lack of oxygen.

Finally I looked back at Viktor with a wide smile.

“Whoa, the city!” -I said with cheap and sarcastic emotion. Most importantly, I managed to retain the smile as a tattoo in my lips. -“No big deal. Thanks anyway, but I’m busy tonight. Good luck hunting.”

Morning was brought hastily and fretful with strong knocks on my front door. I tried to scramble in my bed to see who was hitting my door merciless but I was tied in Sam’s arms as if he was a rubber band made of hard candy. This was turning into routine. Sam, staying to sleep in my house! Not that I complain. No way.

“Morgan? Morgan? Open the door.”

I pushed Sam away when Lavender’s voice shrieked in my bedroom’s window. He fell to the floor and was about to argue my hostility when I covered his mouth, motioning him to remain quite.

“Morgan… I warn you. If you don’t open the door, I’ll force my way in.” -Lavender threatened. -“I know there’s a man in your house. Open the door for me now.”

“Wait a minute.” -I yelled back at her, still not knowing what I was going to do. -“I’ll be there in a moment.”

I took a black cami and put it on followed by a tight jean-like legging.

“Please, go.” -I told Sam caressing his scared face with my left hand. -“Back door?”

Arms crossed in front of me, I went to open the door. Lavender stormed into the house as if she was an angry mother and was already planning my punishment and spanking.

“What is so urgent that took you out of your love nest?” -I asked without considering my words. Her face had aged in a matter of days. The bride of days ago was just a faint shadow now.

“Haven’t you seen Jerome since… what happened in your shop?” -She asked with a demanding tone. I just denied with my face. -“And, have you seen Patrick?”

“Who’s Patrick?” -I asked besotted.

“Mrs. Regal’s nephew. The boy who works at the market selling vegetables.”

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any of them. I’ve been busy lately.” -I hurried to tell her before she kept her questioning.

She walked around, trying to peek to inside the house. I blocked her way.

“Who’s there with you? Is Jerome here, right? I knew he had something for you, a fling. but I never thought you’ll do this to me.” -She yelled blinded by absurd jealousy.

“What?” -I asked her in disbelief. What kind of woman she thought I was? I could be anything but a man thief? No way. -“I hate Jerome. He’s a pig. How would I do that to you? You’re such an ignorant child.”

“Then how you explain Jerome calling you on our very wedding night? Stop hiding him here. Force him to come and say whatever he wants to say in my face.”

“You’re wrong, Lav. Jerome is not here. I don’t care about him, about Patrick, about nobody. I don’t care about you and your worthless marital bliss.” -I growled.

“Don’t lie to me.” -My own cousin contradicted between sobs and hateful looks. -“You planned all this. You, despicable witch!”

Without even realizing it, I was slapping her hard. She deserved it. Offended, she tried to leave but I held her, ready to slap her again. Lavender held her ground, daring me.

“Whoa!” -Sam said while coming out of my room, shirtless. For a moment he took my breath away, but that seemed to be a common sensation when he was around. -“What are you doing, ladies? Stop fighting amongst yourself, girls. You’re family!”

Grabbing me by my shoulders, he moved me away from Lavender and stood between us. Lavender’s astonish face was priceless. I would have granted a Maghikal wish to whoever had taken the risk to photograph her staggered face.

“Sam? Officer Sam?” -Lavender asked in disbelief.

“Of course it’s me, Ms. Greenline.” -He answered with a shy smile. -“Were you expecting to find Morgan with someone else?”

His question startled me. Was she or the rest of the world supposed to expect him sleeping in my house?

“If you spent the night here you don’t know about Patrick Regal. He was found dead an hour ago. Black candles and a dagger were in his body.” -She said, covering her face with both hands. I did the same although not for the same reasons. A dagger? Really? My dagger? With my fingerprints on it? This cannot be happening to me. -“Mrs. Regal is going crazy. She only had him in the world.”

Sam went to my room and returned all dressed up. He kissed my cheek and stormed out of my house.

“You had fallen very low, Morgan. Ask your boyfriend how much Jerome paid him to take you to bed.” -Lavender spit the words in my face right before running out of the house behind Sam.

Curled up in my bed to cry again, I started hating myself even harder. It was hard to believe in Lavender’s words but it was easier to understand why Sam harassed me so much.

One week living under delusions, excited with a love that was faked.

Determined to put an end to all this, I got out of the house and drove to my bakery. Today was going to be a different day. Mourning days always bring clients looking for mourning food. I was in grief too, but for my own sake.

I baked simple doughnuts and cream cheese with guava pastries. Meat turnovers and simple vanilla cakes were ready to feed the crowd. Packing some goodies, I wrote a fast note and attached it to the door before closing the store. I walked a few streets straight to Ms. Regal’s house. Why was I doing this? I don’t know. Pity, maybe. Sorrow, perhaps. Remorse? Possibly. Some guilt too.

The house was deserted which was weird because this villagers are very nosy. By now this house was supposed to be full of the “finest” of society. I climbed the two steps, holding myself on the white metal railing. Ms. Regal was sitting behind some flower pots at one side of her balcony. She noticed me before I had the chance to see her or even knock on the door.

“Oh, dear. I was expecting you.” -Ms. Regal said as if I had called announcing my visit. -“Come, sit with me.”

I did as she told me and stood silent for a few minutes. Finally I found words to say.

“I’m so sorry about your nephew.” -I said foolishly.

“Do you?” -She asked as if blaming me for what happened.

“Of course I do, Ms. Regal. I didn’t know Patrick but Lavender told me what happened. It’s very sad.” -I extended the box full of goodies and she took it. -“There’s nothing else I know to do but bake. If you need something of me just ask.”

Ready to leave, I stood up. It was easier this way.

“You’re just like your mom. Always looking for the right words, always trying to keep peace. So beautiful and yet defiant of the rules and the world.”

I stood still. She had mentioned my mother. Maybe she can tell me who I really am.

“Stubborn, just like your father. And brave as well.” -Ms. Regal added.

“You knew my parents?” -I asked, crouching in front of her arthritic knees.

“But too much time has elapsed.” -She said twisting her wrinkled lips.

“Tell me, please.” -I begged.

“You won’t believe a word.” -She protested, gesturing with a hand to let the topic go.

“I will.” -I assured her, but I was not sure of my word.

She led me inside her house and the scene was overwhelming. Patrick’s portraits were everywhere. The whole house was like a temple to adore him. He was a power crushing everything around, sucking the air out of my lungs, judging me with his sternness.

“I love Patrick. He’s the son I never had. Have you met him?” -She asked without looking at me. I was sure I had answered that before.

“I never had the pleasure. Lavender said he sold vegetables at the market, but I grow my own so I never visit that part when shopping for groceries.” -I explained. She excused herself and asked me to wait for her in the living room surrounded by the many pictures of Patrick. I was about to leave, reason already reaching out to me, when Ms. Regal came back with a small envelope.

Taking a seat, Ms. Regal started talking about the good times when she was free, just like me. Alike me, she never took a husband.

“Not because I wasn’t elegant or anything. But I had my secrets too. I don’t blame you for what you did to Patrick. He said awful things about you. Most of them were lies.”

“I didn’t do anything.” -I protested, standing up.

“There’s no need to feel offended, Morgan. I know you more than what you might think. You’re like your mother. Power looks for you despite you reject it. People don’t always understand this.”

Opening the envelope, Ms. Regal extracted a picture. Oh no, no more Patrick pictures! I had had enough already. She handed it to me and I turned it around. Four women were together laughing at some joke. I didn’t get it.

“This is me here. The one with flat shoes. And your mother is this one. Always barefoot.” -I contemplated my mother’s face for the first time in my life. We were so alike, I could have sworn it was a picture of me traveling time. -“What you notice in the picture?”

I shrugged not knowing what she meant.

“Sisters of the broom. A club we had to joke about witches and wizards.” -She said pointing her thin finger at a few brooms at their feet.

“Are you kidding me? You guys were witches? For real?” -I asked almost laughing. It should have been obvious. That’s why Ms. Regal always claimed to know me more than myself.

“Oh, no, Morgan.” -She corrected me, but the truth was reflected in the shine of her eyes. Her face turned paler than before. -“It was a friendship club. To have some laughs. But little we knew that one of us will harbor the curse of a witch growing inside.”

“What you mean?” -My mind was numb. Suddenly I wanted to vomit. All around was dizzy and my head weighted tons.

“You can’t ru
n
fro
m
who you are but you can learn to control it. Tame that evil spirit claiming your blood and your soul. You’re the curse to which your mother died. Her blood ran because of you. Your father’s life extinguished for your fault too. That demon trying to take possession of you and force you to do its will is winning now. You’re letting it win by killing people. By killing Patrick.”

“I didn’t do anything.” - I told her again, suppressing the tears that wanted to come out. She stood up, pacing in front of her fake hearth.

“Repay their blood with your blood. Their lives with your life. And do yourself a favor…” -She said throwing a nylon sack at my feet. -“Use the same dagger with which you killed Patrick.”

Carrying the bag in one hand and the picture of my mother in the other I ran down the street, stumbling up and down with a few people. Close to my bakery I fell to my knees, breaking the fabric of my legging and scraping off my skin. Blood stains appeared as quickly as I stood up and climbed into my van.

Pain was exasperating. Fear was devouring me. It seemed like the town was full of people blaming me for anything. I started caressing my knees while I felt like a cat run over by a car.

“Hi!” -Someone shouted high while hitting my car window. Just when I was about to heal my pained body with my Maghik. I recollected all the Maghik back, trying to appease the energy colliding with harming strength. I looked to my left to find Viktor, the city guy, standing watchful. I rolled my window down just a few inches and answered hi back. -“Busy? I came to get some of your pastries but it was closed. Funny sign by the way!”

“Sorry.” -I apologized but I was certain I wouldn’t open my store to feed him. -“I was going out. I have a meeting somewhere else. You know, party planner.”

“My bad.” -He said with cheesy smile. -“Mrs. Regal called my cell phone. She’s at the morgue and she wanted some help with some snacks for later. Can you help me? I’ll take whatever you have left.”

Thinking it twice, I opened the car door and walked alongside Viktor. This better be fast. I needed to go. To disappear. Fly away.

“Wait here. Have a seat, please.” -I stopped Viktor in front of the counter. -“I have some trays of fresh pastries in the kitchen. I’ll get them.”

Maghik done, I returned carrying a few trays.

“I can see why this people love your shop so much. Is so nice in here. Smells like cookies and coffee and homemade love.”

“Thanks.” -I answered with appreciation. -“Or they love this place because there is nothing else in town.”

“I can promise you. No place is like this. Every wall in here shares a feeling. Emotions flow from those nice chandeliers you have. How many good kisses had been shared right where we’re standing! How many wishes to cuddle with the right girl in this gleaming floor!”

My eyebrows raised in wonder. Was this guy- the one who claimed to know nothing of nice ladies- being poetic this early?

“Well. You got Mrs. Regal’s order. Now I must go or I’ll be late.” -I pronounced urgently while I held the door open. Viktor hadn’t even grabbed the trays and I was already pushing him outside.

“Payment first.” -He said with his ATM card in hand. -“You won’t pay this time. I’m starting feeling bad
.
I
f
our meetings and dates are going to be this way, you’ll be embarrassing me. I’m the man. I’m supposed to pay. You’re the pretty and smart lady. You’re supposed to allow me to indulge you and enjoy it.”

“So funny.” -I mustered, standing behind the cash register. -“Two hundred twenty three with eight cents.”

“Need the phone number to the slip?” -Viktor asked with double sensed curiosity.

“No, is fine.”

“You can call me. I can take you dinner later if you allow me. I’ll be nice to you.” -He proposed, writing his cell phone number behind his business card.

Driving careless I passed the road that led to my house but I didn’t turn. I just hit the gas harder. How this was happening to me? First Sam now Viktor. The least I needed now was pretenders or men thinking they could conquer me and take to bed. A city guy? Ha! Two city guys! As if one didn’t cause enough damage. That’s the reason why I always handled love as a terminal disease.

A cop patrol blared its siren behind me and its lights blinked like a disco ball but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I kept going despite knowing that my action was against this village’s law and I could get arrested.

Through the rearview I noticed it wasn’t a regular police car but a batmovil with a detachable siren close to the sunroof. I hit the gas harder and gained a little advantage against the cop. I was almost cheering when the car wasn’t reflected in my mirror. Never cheer before been crowded as victorious, not even when you see victory right ahead.

The car patrol ran faster and it passed by my side smoothly. Without effort it blocked my way. Forced to stop, I hit the brakes harder, squealing tires over the damp pavement. Remembering the nylon bag Ms. Regal threw at me and that was lying in the passenger seat, I hurried to hide it under the seat before the cop on duty came to make the severity warnings.

The matte charcoal car blocking the free way was a bad sign.

A second after, my door was opened and Sam was standing there, cop-dressed, looking sternly at me.

“What’s wrong with you, Morgan?” -He demanded. I stood silent, my heart beating with the adrenaline of the race. -“Where were you driving like a hell possessed?”

“That’s none of your business.” -I snarled at him, startling Sam with my hostile behavior. I should be grateful that I wasn’t going to get arrested.

“This isn’t you, Morgan. What’s wrong?” -Sam asked. -“Please, come out of your car.”

“You know nothing about me.” -I said defiantly, but still I obeyed his order and stepped out of my van.

“And so what? What should I know of you that can change what I feel?” -He questioned.

Impatiently, I thought about it hard. Looking into his eyes was a deterrent to think with clarity.

“How much he paid you?” -I managed to say at last.

“What are you talking about?” -Sam argued with raised hands.

“You know what I’m asking. How much Jerome paid you to conquer my bed?” -A tear slid down my face, falling hard to the road.

“Why are you asking this?”

“Why? Because I want to know how muc
h
i
t
costs a woman between friends. Because you are a hog. Your friend is an ass. Because I might have liked you, but not like this. Because you deserve all the hate in the world.”

Said so, I climbed back in my van and kept driving -skipping his car by driving in the ditch at the road side. I didn’t stop until I was so far from home that I could just hope to forget my way back and erase the last week from my memory.

People around the world fulfill acts of witchcraft every day. A birthday party without candles to blow and wishes to make is after all a mere gathering.

A wedding without cake to be tasted by both groom and bride is just an union that will eventually lack of health and love.

Throwing coins in a water well in order of getting wishes granted is playing with luck, trying to get the odds on your benefit.

Food has always been the most powerful tool for magic, thus for my Maghik. The first wine was originated as a strong love potion gone wrong. The recipe was distilled to the point were no Maghik was used at all, but still remained as inspiration to many witches. Women take wine to relax. Wine glass in hand, body submerged in a bubble bath, is nothing less than a ritual. Rituals are Maghik too.

Food contains the energy of everything: of wellbeing, happiness, strength, love and sex.

Nothing has more elements covered than honey. That’s a key ingredient when thinking on love and sex. My Maghik is spirituality and is even mentioned in Bibles:
“Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God…”

Maghik is everywhere these days. Not in the magic described in books. Not in cauldrons and brooms and child-eating old woman. But true Maghik. In pacts sealed with saliva. Deals made up with blood. Agreements paid with flesh.

Maghik is in pain and in feelings. In what I’m made of.

Right now, eating in a cheap fast food, I only felt hatred. I was so ignorant and blind to Sam’s real intentions. I wanted him to love me. I needed him to like me. And it was all a cheap deception. I had fallen straight to him, almost giving him what he was planning to get since the beginning. How clever of him! Winning my trust first to then brag about how easy I made it for him.

The food tasted like clay, making me miss my kitchen deeply. Going back home was the cleverest thing to do. Bake a huge batch of something edible and then go to Patrick’s funeral service, fake mourning tears and feed the people with it until their bellies explode. Belly bombs made a good name for the treat. Feed them all but leave Sam to the very ending. He was to be my final artwork. A death worthy of a masterpiece.

It was still daylight when I drove back home. My opportunity was still alive. Maybe the last chance to bring death. On my way home I stopped at a hardware store and bought a gallon of acid to erase my fingerprints from the dagger before getting rid of it. I considered vanishing the dagger with more Maghik but many things could go wrong. Ovens on, I mixed all the ingredients to my gooey double chocolate cookies. Not only I mixed it all but scrambled together the perfect spell to make them pay for everything. Hardly, I recognized I was laughing like a maniac, but yes it happened.

“Poisons gathered all around.

Come to me, let’s make a bound.

I implore the powers from past;

To make them suffer and die fast.”

Perhaps I added a little too much of the acid to the mix. Maybe a little extra evilness found its way to the dough. Soon the oven was off and the cookies were soft and warm. If I hadn’t known what was ghostly waiting inside I would have engulfed them all in a single seat, that’s how good they looked. But I knew better. A passive death covered with melted chocolate.

The sun was waving away behind my window curtains and the night mist was rising fast as frothed milk. Quickly, I placed the cookies in a warming tray and changed my clothes to a semi-respectful black outfit fitting the occasion.

I drove by Regal’s house several times before finding an empty spot close by. The cookies were to stay in the van until Patrick’s body was taken away. Just then, when people start crying like babies, I would take care of their pained souls.

“Thanks for coming.” -Ms. Regal told me as soon as I set foot on her house. -“Come to help me, my dear.”

She was acting very weird, as if my early visit hadn’t happened and as if she hadn’t blamed me for Patrick’s death. Following her to the kitchen, I saw Lavender with the corner of the eye. I preferred to ignore her presence just as I ignored the others.

“Thanks for the pastries you left early. You saved my life.
I
hav
e
no strength to cook a grilled sandwich for myself.” -She said gratefully.

“Not a problem. Anything I can do to help.” -I answered with confusion.

“Oh, Officer Whilhey is desperately looking for you. Maybe you should see him.” -Mrs. Regal winked at me. -“How’s everything going on with him? Is he husband material?”

I ignored the last question and focused just on answering the first part.

“He can wait. You need my help in this moment of pain, so here I am.” -I advised. -“I’ll make some coffee and hot cocoa.”

“What we’ll do without you? You’re an angel, sweetie. Oh, there’s also Viktor looking for you. Nice guy too. Now your life is getting interesting, dear. Don’t waste the chance. Life is short.”-And she left after pinching both of my cheeks.

Sorrow assaulted me unexpectedly but I shove it away. I was laughing inside for what was going to happen. She was right. Life is short. For some of them would be shorter. My revenge would see light at last. But I wondered why I wasn’t feeling glorious for the occasion. I was supposed to be celebrating the upcoming slaughter. Then why wasn’t I? Fast I went to my van, taking the still warm cookies with me. Soon this would be over. Soon I would end all this. A wedding would have been better occasion but a funeral would do. A little girl intercepted me in the walkway.

“Can I have some, Baker? I’ll be good. Pinky promise!” -She said extending her little finger. My heart was assaulted suddenly and I understood why I wasn’t feeling glorious. This girl reminded me of Lilly. Would I be able to poison Lilly if she gets in my way? If she mocks my walking, would I be so malicious and vile to feed her with a killer pony cake?

A commotion broke in the balcony and I walked pass the girl without answering. People gathered, maybe they were gossiping about the manner of death and who would be next if the killer wasn’t caught soon. I came close trying to listen to the fuss but there was no chatting. It was an emergency.

“Please, stay back. He needs air.” -Someone yelled with authoritarian voice. -“Move away.”

I asked the people I found on my way outside until Ms. Regal herself came looking for me.

“Oh, dear. You better go. They took him to the hospital.” -She said, tears gathering in her old eyes.

“Who’s going to the hospital?” -I asked. Nerves attacked me relentless. My spine was sweating hard.

“Poor Sam. He got sick. We don’t know wha
t
happene
d
to him. He was sweating cold.” -She said cleaning her forehead and cheeks with a handkerchief. -“He’ll get better if he sees you.”

I ran to my van and drove at fast speed. At the distance I could see the blinking lights of a car patrol driving straight to the hospital. When I stormed into the emergency room, the receptionist told me to wait until she came back. Pacing up and down I asked myself why she took so long in returning. Officer Evo came outside and I asked him for Sam.