Magic Happens

November 24, 2009

They used to burn people for this.

Rachel usually smiled when, in the process of opening a circle, that thought crossed her mind, but she hadn’t smiled much about anything lately.  Even the idea that ignorant, unenlightened people committed ignorant, unenlightened acts against her kind couldn’t wring a wry smile out of her tonight.  She continued to light candles, muttering the requisite chants.

All witches have a specialty.  Rachel’s was love.  She was a mediocre tarot card reader and an even worse conjurer of spells for success, money and fame, but she was renown in her small circle as a master of love spells.  Women – it was always women – came to her with their romantic woes and she helped set them right.  Those women told their friends, who told their friends, who told their friends, and so her reputation grew.  Even those who were ultimately unhappy with her services enhanced her popularity because their complaints were always the same, always that the spell worked too well; could she back it off a little?

There was no “backing it off”, Rachel would tell them.  And even though they might be suffering a bit in the light of too much romantic attention, her customers seldom complained loudly.  After all, women are cut very much from the same cloth.  Gay or straight, young or old, they all want love.  Too much is better than too little.

Witches aren’t immune.  Rachel had spent many years alone since her husband died, casting love spells for others and cherishing the hope that someday love would come for her again.  But the warnings she gave to all of her customers about the drawbacks of love spells were so deeply engraved on her own psyche that she never considered casting a spell for herself.  Until lately, that is.

She met Nick at a local psychic fair.  He was tall and silver-haired, with a ready laugh that matched her own and crystal green eyes that seem to cut through her.  Rachel was smitten immediately.  She could hardly believe that her sixty-year-old heart could race the way this man’s touch made it race.  His kiss on her skin made her feel seventeen years old and when he ran his hands through her hair she could imagine her locks were jet black again instead of shot through with streaks of white.

She lit three red candles on her altar and stepped back to study it.  Incense…check.  Rose quartz…check.  Sugar…check.  Lavendar oil…check.  Picture of Nick…check.

She found out about his other woman (no wait, Rachel told herself, I am the “other woman”) on the same day that Nick broke up with her.  He called to tell her that he’d been seeing someone else for a while and needed to break up with Rachel to concentrate on that relationship.  He could have saved his breath.  She’d already heard all about it from the woman who’d found Rachel’s phone number on Nick’s cell phone.  Apparently, Nick and this other, perfectly nice lady had been dating for over five years.  Apparently, they had a lot in common, interests that Rachel didn’t share with Nick such as grandchildren and fishing and NASCAR.   Rachel knew her relationship with Nick was over before he called one last time to say good-bye.

Rachel lit a bundle of white sage and let the smoke wash over her.  For three weeks, she’d been moping around the house like a teenager.  For three weeks, she’d gone to bed at night with a heart so sore that it felt like it might never heal.  For three weeks, she’d resisted the temptation.

She decided not to resist it any longer.

There was a silver tray on the altar in front of her with a picture of Nick smiling up from the center.  She placed a piece of rose quartz directly over his heart.  With her customary flourish, she sprinkled sugar over the tray, followed by a few drops of lavendar oil.

Are you sure this what you want? she asked herself, just as she asked all of her clients.

Rachel stood in front of the altar with her wand poised.  She could feel the power of the spell gathering in front of her like a glistening ball of pink and red energy.  One flick of her wrist would send it towards its mark – just one gesture.  Do it, damn it!  Do you want to be alone forever?

I only want him to be happy, she thought, and that was her undoing.   She felt the spell implode on itself and scatter like beams of light in a darkening room.  She laid her wand down and blew out the candles.

She heard her cell phone ring in the other room and swiped at the tears on her pale cheeks.  She considered letting the call go to voicemail, then thought, maybe someone needs me.  The surest way to forget her own heartache was to help someone else with theirs.

She looked at the display on the phone and her heart skipped a beat.  She pressed the green button.  “Nick?”

“I can’t live without you,” he said, and his voice was thick with all the tears she had wanted to shed over the past three weeks.

Rachel smiled then.

Sometimes magic just happens, even to old witches.


3 Responses to “Magic Happens”

  1. R Sims Says:

    And so she is rewarded for making the right decision. I do SO love a happy ending!

  2. Mickey Mills Says:

    Everybody loves a good love story. Even NASCAR fans and bikers.


    She took the high road to love! ^5

  3. janet Says:

    Damn, girl! and woof! I love this…

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