The Salem Concord Book 1: Interview for a Wizard

by J. A. Areces

  ***

  “Cold” was the only word that resounded in Beifar’s mind, and it was. Boston was freezing. It was midmorning, but it felt just as cold as midnight. Beifar pulled his hat down over his forehead, and wrapped his long cloak tight, hoping to feel warmer, as he stood directly in front of Yolanda Roundbottom’s house.

  Cambridge was busy, as usual, with students making their way to coffee shops, riding bikes or jogging. All were well protected from the chilly weather, except for the wizard. One young jogger ran by, turned and gave Beifar a thumbs up and shouted, “Trick or Treat,” over the fast beat sounds, emanating from his iPod. Beifar did not respond. He was carefully studying Yolanda Roundbottom’s house. It was a typical, tight and cute two story Bostonian home with large windows and steps that led to a small porch. A witch on a broom lightning rod on the top of the roof caught his attention. It pointed to the west, squeaking, as the breeze made its way through the trees and over the neighborhood houses. Five large pumpkins decorated the front porch and steps. The sign on the door read, “Witches are Welcome.”

  The wizard reached for his amulet. He waited for a response. Nothing, the way was safe. With staff in hand, he ventured through the manicured yard and up the steps. He stopped right before the front door. The floor mat drew his gaze. “No one can see the Wizard.” Oh brother, he thought.

  Beifar rang the front doorbell. “Coming,” sang a voice from inside. A few of the windows were opened and he could hear someone running around making final arrangements. “I’ll be right theeeeerrrr,” she sang. The wizard relaxed his stance. The minutes ticked by as she continued to apologize for her lateness, keeping Beifar waiting outside in the cold.

  Finally, the door swung open. “Oh!” she said surprised. “Oh,” she repeated with a smile. “A wizard.” She reached out, grabbed Beifar by the hand, and pulled him inside. “No one can see the wizard, not nobody, not no how.” She giggled as she steered him through the foyer and into the small, cluttered living room. The wizard just went along, not sure how to react.

  “Are you Yolanda Roundbottom?” He finally asked as she circled around him admiring his clothing.

  “Excellent,” she commented “very nice quality. Oh, yes, I am Yolanda.” She stepped back. “How can I help you? Aren’t you a little early?”

  Beifar looked confused.

  “Oh my, where are my manners? Sit down please. Let me serve you a warm cup of coffee. I just made a pot.” Yolanda turned and disappeared behind the wall into the kitchen.

  “Mrs. Roundbottom…”

  “It’s Miss.” She answered back from the kitchen. “Would you like sugar and cream?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll take it black. You wouldn’t have Cuban coffee would you?”

  “Cuban? Is that like espresso?”

  “Better.”

  “No, I don’t have an espresso machine.”

  “Miss Roundbottom, I would like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind?” His hostess entered the room and handed him a cup of coffee filled to the rim. “Thank you,” said Beifar, as they both sat down across from each other in matching armchairs, with very comfortable pillows.

  Beifar sipped at his coffee while he studied the room. Family portraits hung on the wall; tacky drapes drooped on the side of the windows; trinkets and lit lamps covered a variety of end tables; and a stone fireplace. A broom that he recognized from Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store rested to the side of the fireplace.

  “You order everything from Alivan’s?” he asked her as he rested the coffee cup on its saucer.

  “Oh, yes!” She beamed. “And so do the other girls. We all shop through Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store.”

  “Girls?”

  “Yes, the ladies from the club. You know, that’s whom you’ll be speaking to today. I’m sorry that I kept you waiting outside, but I was trying to finish making the sandwiches and goodies.” Yolanda waved her hand in the air. “I love to just conjure up little things like that.”

  Speaking? The wizard decided to play along.

  “How many witches will be coming?”

  “We’re a small group; only six, but I sent that information in the email.”

  “I’m sorry but my computer crashed. I lost the information. I only remembered the date. At what time will they be arriving?”

  “In a little while, but Mary Weather usually arrives early to give me a hand. Oh, and she just bought a new broom from Alivan’s. She received it in the mail yesterday and I rushed over to see it. I had to. I couldn’t wait until today. It’s a beautiful Lady Godiva model. It is sooooo comfortable, especially for women our age.”

  I don’t have much time, thought Beifar.

  “And you, Mr.…?” Yolanda was middle-aged. She was short and round with long, brown, uncontrollable, wavy hair that she was constantly sweeping back behind her neck because it wouldn’t stay in place. Her robes were different shades of green with a large collar that folded down over her shoulders.

  “I am the Wizard Beifar Mahgo. I hope you don’t mind, but I checked your registry before I came over and I noticed that you only recently registered with the Department of Identification and Records. No family heritage or family name?” He paused, and looked her straight on. “Why?”

  “Oh how wonderful!!!!” She clapped excitedly. “It went through. I’m not good at computers, just got a new one recently. I came upon the Identification of Wizards and Witches website while doing a search on witches. I thought, why not? After I did it, I advised my girlfriends to do the same and they also registered. Oh, how marvelous! Does that mean that we are now registered witches? The girls will love to hear the news. You are very good, Wizard Beifar. The ladies are going to love you.”

  The wizard didn’t know what to make of it. The Identification of Wizardry was not supposed to be an Internet site. No doubt it was another attempt by a radical Wizardry group to expose the Wizardry community to the rest of the Folk world; a breach of the Salem Concord.

  “I have to ask you something. Did you buy your outfit at Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store?” Yolanda grinned. “I love it!”

  Beifar frowned. “No ma’am, but I was just there before I materialized over here.”

  “Oh, how wonderful! How marvelous! Did you meet, Jesse, the owner?”

  Beifar placed his coffee on the end table next to his armchair nonchalantly and slowly placed both hands on his staff. How did she know that Jesse was the owner of Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store? She must to be involved somehow.

  Yolanda leapt to her feet. She reached over, took hold of the wizard’s right arm and pulled him up steering him into the adjoining room. “You need to come and see my collection. I think most of it comes from Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store.” Beifar let her guide him, while maintaining both hands on his staff.

  Yolanda swung the door open and pushed the wizard inside. The room was full of all sorts of witch items, contraptions, and a collection of junk related to witches. Every witch ever seen in a movie was represented in an action figure, picture frame or paraphernalia, including all types of brooms, hats, dresses, shoes and even socks. It was amazing. An old medicine cabinet stood in the corner containing all sizes and shapes of bottles filled with weird bugs and herbs. Next to the medicine cabinet was a huge cauldron, dark and dirty. “Aren’t I the perfect witch?” She walked into the center of the room and turned toward Beifar, who stood obviously perplexed and speechless. “Most of this I bought at Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store. That dear boy, Jesse, has been very helpful.”

  “Ma’am, Jesse is not the owner of Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store.”

  Yolanda’s eyes widened. Beifar tightened the grip on his staff. He didn’t really know what to expect.

  “He’s not? Then who is? I thought he told me he was the owner - - such a nice young man. He gave
me a great deal on my new wand.” She pulled it out of her green robe and waved it slightly at the wizard. Beifar raised his staff, ready to block a spell, but nothing happened.

  “Oh, well, I hope the new owner is just as helpful?”

  “Miss Roundbottom, Jesse was never the owner, he is an employee. The owner is Mr. Claw.”

  “Mr. Claw? Oh…no, Mr. Mahgo, Mr. Claw is the employee. He told me himself, in an email. He does the purchasing for Jesse. In fact, I just sold him a case of, what he called, Dragon Breath. He should have received it by now. I sent it UPS overnight.” She turned and made her way to the medicine cabinet.

  “Dragon Breath!” Beifar quickly walked over to her and took hold of her arm. “Miss Roundbottom, you just committed a national crime. Don’t you know that selling or trafficking Dragon Breath is against the law?”

  “Mr. Mahgo, please unhand me.” Yolanda pulled her arm loose and stepped back, pointing her wand at the wizard. He froze. “Dragon Breath is nothing more than a rare weed. It’s a cute magical name for a weed. It grows in Gina’s rose garden.”

  “Miss Roundbottom, put your wand down. It’s against the law to point a weapon at a law enforcer?”

  The doorbell rang.

  “What do you mean law enforcer? Sir, my guests are arriving. I don’t have time for this right now.” Yolanda lowered her wand, tapping it against her leg impatiently.

  “Miss Roundbottom, are you a witch?”

  “Sir, I am no more a witch than you a wizard. This is a club and nothing more,” her voice stern and clearly upset. “Now, my guests are arriving, and you, sir, were hired to give a talk about wizards and only that, not law enforcement. You are the professor from Harvard, recommended by the local Men’s Wizard Club, aren’t you?”

  “No, Miss Roundbottom, I am a wizard and a federal agent. You just sold a very dangerous man a weapon of mass destruction.”

  “Oh, how dare you sir? I am insulted. I would have you know that I am a law-abiding citizen, a volunteer at the local library, and at the hospital. I have never and will never willingly commit a crime. And, I have definitely never sold anyone any weapon of mass destruction. I am not a terrorist.” Yolanda crossed her arms and huffed.

  Beifar reached for his amulet and pointed it at Yolanda. It glowed in his grip as the room grew pale blue. She was telling the truth. Yolanda Roundbottom was a Folk.

  Yolanda stood still, astounded.

  The doorbell rang again. “Yolanda, it’s me, Mary. I came early to help out.” She could be heard through the open window as she tried to peek inside. “Is everything all right? Who are you in there with, dear?”

  Yolanda dared not answer, breathe or blink. Mary continued calling out for Yolanda as she jiggled the door handle trying to force it to open.

  With every ounce of courage she could muster, Yolanda shouted, “Mary! Call the cops.”

  Beifar frowned as he drew closer, gazing angrily at Yolanda. Yolanda brought her hands up to her mouth trembling. Her eyes grew large. She gasped as she expected the worst. The wizard towered over Yolanda as he raised his staff over his head, brought the end down hard against the wood floor, and . . . FLASH. The wizard was gone. Yolanda fainted.

  Mary Weather heard a thump. She pushed hard against the door until it opened. “Yolanda? Yolanda?” She rushed in, uncertain which way to turn, as she placed her broom against the wall. Behind her, two more witches entered. Puzzled, they observed Mary hurry into the adjoining room and then they heard her scream. When they entered the witch room, they found Mary on her knees trying to wake Yolanda, as she gently swept her brown curly hair from her face. Confusion followed as one witch called 911 on her cell while another rushed to the kitchen and brought a glass of cold water and poured the entire contents on Yolanda’s face. The three elderly ladies knelt around her with bated breath as Yolanda stirred.

  Yolanda glanced at her three friends for a moment. No words or sounds emerged from her mouth, just a silly grin that caused goose bumps to crawl up the ladies’ backs.

  “No one can see the wizard, not nobody, not no how.” She murmured and fainted again.