Magically Delicious

by Robyn Peterman

  “We are. Get your sorry stinky ass out of the wrinkle. You’re not welcome here and never will be.”

  “We shall meet again, Zelda—very soon.”

  In an explosion of putrid green smoke, the monster disappeared and I fell to my knees in relief. But what had I done? In trying to save the world, had I thrown Sassy under the bus? The bile rose in my throat and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry.

  “Zelda,” Baba Yaga whispered as she knelt beside me and stroked my hair. “You were brilliant.”

  “No, I fucked up,” I blubbered. “I’ve outed Sassy—said I would kill her. I mean I didn’t say her name, but the fucker knows he has a daughter now. This is horrible. I need to have the puppies and then go kill that bastard so he won’t hurt Sassy. She’s an idiot, but she’s my idiot. I can’t let that disgusting piece of crap near her. He’ll eat her alive.”

  Baba Yaga’s amused chuckle pissed me off. I wondered if she had any friends at all. She was heartless.

  “It’s not funny, Carol,” I shouted at her, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “Sassy’s mother was heinous—dropped her off at an orphanage when she was a little girl—and never came back. And now she gets to find out her father is a stank-ass evil warlock with horns? Nothing about this is fucking funny.”

  “Sassy is far stronger than you think. She has a right to know her father,” Baba Yaga said, ignoring my disrespect. “However, she shall not go to him unprotected or unprepared. You will be there for her.”

  “You got that right,” I huffed. “Most of the time I want to throat punch her, but if that fucker lays one hand on her in violence, I’ll kill him where he stands.”

  “She’s an odd one,” Marge said, stepping up behind her sister and looking at me as if I were a science experiment.

  “Yes, well aren’t we all?” Baba Yaga replied to her sister, squeezing her hand.

  “And you,” I ground out, getting to my feet and poking Marge in the chest. “You and your nuclear witchy energy… ”

  I stopped and stared at her open mouthed. Made for good… but used for evil.

  Bermangoogleshitz wanted that potion badly—wanted to own the world. Marge was tired. She wanted to stop. Had she created the potion for good and it had blown up in her face because of people like Bermangoogleshitz, my mother and the honey badgers? Had the evil outweighed the good? She said the nuclear energy had muted the magic… or was it the lack thereof? Did it also create magic?

  The two witches watched me and waited.

  Magic was our nuclear energy. The very potion that kept the magical balance, in the wrong hands, could destroy it.

  “Tough shit if you’re tired, Marge. You have a job to do. Not everyone is a Bermangooglehole, or a honey badger, or my mother. Most of us are good—or trying to be.”

  “I think she’s beginning to get it,” Baba Yaga said proudly as she looked at me.

  “Took her long enough. Actually thought she might kill me for a few minutes there,” Marge said with a grin.

  “I still might,” I informed her, waving my hands and restoring her magic. “Was this a fucking test?”

  “Not really, no. However, if it had been you passed with flying colors,” Baba Yaga said, with an unapologetic shrug. “I’d love to say I planned it, but I didn’t. I might have had a bit of an idea what the problem was, but I wasn’t sure. Marge has been in hiding for centuries.”

  “Why?” I asked Marge, who actually did look really tired.

  “Why do you think?” she countered.

  “I think you naively made the green goop for good, but in the wrong hands it’s devastating.”

  Marge snapped her fingers and her cookie house reappeared in a blast of powdered sugar and sprinkles. “Come with me,” she instructed as she walked back into her house.

  “Is it safe?” I whispered to Baba Yaga.

  “Yes, dear. Marge is a gaping asshole, but she really is truly good.”

  “I heard that, Carol,” Marge yelled.

  “Come on,” Baba Yaga urged as she followed her sister into the cookie house. “There’s a bit more you need to learn.”

  “̓Bout to drop some puppies here,” I warned.

  “No worries. This won’t take long.”

  Famous last words.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Wait, so you knew all along that the lurking fucking evil was actually the substance that created pure light magic?” I shouted at Baba Yaga as she sat on the couch and munched on a snickerdoodle.

  “Yes.”

  “You suck,” I told her, as I pocketed a handful of dark chocolate covered almonds to eat when I gave birth later today. “You told me I had to find the lurking fucking evil and keep the balance in Assjacket.”

  “Correct,” Baba Yaga replied.

  “You are so full of shit, Carol.”

  “You got that one right,” Marge said, trying to bribe me over to her side by handing me a homemade strawberry milkshake with an obscene amount of whipped cream on top.

  Okay. It worked.

  “Actually, I’m an outstanding multi-tasker,” Baba Yaga countered. “You’ll see one day yourself, Zelda. Presiding over all the witches in the world is a pain in the ass. You’ll eventually inherit the job and I’ll go on a long overdue vacation. Your training started the day I sentenced you to prison. I needed to keep an eye on you.”

  “So you knew Fabio was still alive? You knew I didn’t run over him on purpose—that I didn’t kill him?”

  She nodded and smirked. “Of course. However, the not on purpose part is somewhat debatable. And let’s not forget your irresponsible use of magic.”

  “Whatever,” I snapped. I was still mulling over the fact I’d spent nine months in the pokey as a mostly innocent witch. There was no doubt I was a better person for it, but admitting it wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

  Baba Yaga continued as she watched me stew. “So I assumed Marge had created a wrinkle in this area when I realized what had been used to kill our beloved Hildy. I was also aware that no harm would come to you if you found the crazy old bat. She’s worked very hard to stay hidden from me, but she didn’t know you. You had a far better chance of finding her than I did.”

  “And you two are sisters?”

  “Yep—little known fact and we like it that way,” Marge admitted with an eye roll and a huff. “We’re both creators. Carol was meant to lead and I was meant to create and spread a magical balance in the world.”

  “How’s that working out?” I asked rudely.

  Marge’s laugh was so reminiscent of Baba Yaga’s that I almost smiled—almost. I wasn’t ready to play nice yet.

  “Not well, girlie. Tell me how you see it,” she prodded.

  I thought about it for a minute and then sighed. “Magic—specifically your green goop—is our nuclear energy. Made with good intentions, but can be used for evil in the wrong hands.”

  “She’s smart,” Marge told Carol approvingly before looking at me. “You are correct. When the Goddess gave me the ability to create the potion she didn’t include the fine print. For centuries, I lived in the open and was worshipped for my gift. All I had to do was spread minuscule amounts around and everything was perfect. It was intoxicating. However there’s always a dark underbelly to most silver linings. Power can lead to a false sense of invincibility.”

  “I never knew how you did it,” Baba Yaga said quietly. “I was always jealous of what you could do. And then you disappeared and I couldn’t find you. I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m truly sorry,” Marge whispered, staring at her sister with tears in her eyes. “I’m paying a penance to the Goddess for revealing the secret potion to the wrong person.”

  “You told him?” Baba asked, surprised.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I told him what I did, but thankfully not the recipe.”

  “Why?” Baba questioned.

  “Because I loved him and because he asked.”

  Oh my hell, a few more details would h
ave been awesome, but interrupting their moment would be beyond wrong—even I knew that. It was difficult, but I stayed silent. Downing the strawberry milkshake helped. It was hard to butt in with a mouthful of ice cream. They went on as if I wasn’t here.

  Marge sat down next to her sister and took her hands in her own. “There’s a reason I never shared exactly what I did or how I did it. It’s too dangerous for those who know, but youth breeds arrogance and my ego got the better of me—or rather Bermangoogleshitz got the better of me. After that I went into hiding.”

  “Whoa,” I choked out, spitting milkshake everywhere. “Please tell me you did not do the nasty with Bermangooglegrossmeout—he was the guy you loved?”

  “He was quite beautiful until he fell too deeply into the dark,” Marge admitted with a shrug. “I thought I was in love and I thought he could be trusted. Two very large mistakes that I must live with.”

  It was all starting to add up, but not quite.

  “He did some bad shit with the green goop?” I asked with a shudder.

  Marge closed her eyes and nodded. “Very bad. Ultimately it was my fault because I shared my secret with him. Seclusion from all whom I loved was the price I had to pay.”

  “How in the hell did the honey badgers and my mother end up with the potion if you’ve been in hiding?”

  Baba Yaga stroked her sister’s hair as if she were trying to memorize it and waited. Marge closed her eyes and let her head fall back on her shoulders.

  “I was lonely,” Marge whispered. “My self-imprisonment was making me insane. Around seventy-five years ago, I began to let Shifters into my berry patch so I could at least have some interaction with people, although it was from a distance. The Goddess made that concession for me.”

  “And witches?” I asked.

  “No, the patch is warded against witches,” she explained.

  “Um… I call bullshit. I got in, Fabio got in, and Sassy got in. And my mother must have gotten in.”

  Marge titled her head in thought and her eyes squinted in confusion. “Your mother never set foot in my wrinkle, she must have gotten the potion from the honey badgers. You, my dear, can pass through any ward as you’re set to be the next Baba Yaga. The Goddess knew that Fabio was in the area and let him pass, but who is this Sassy? Is she a healer witch?”

  “Nope,” Baba Yaga said with a giggle. “Not a healer—definitely not a healer.”

  “She’s my fucking magical menace, clothes stealing, big-boobed nightmare of a best friend,” I explained. “I have no clue why she got through your ward. She’s not exactly big in the brains department… ”

  “My, that sounds familiar,” Baba Yaga said giving her sister the side eye.

  “Well, it’s a mystery then,” Marge said wearily, gently elbowing her sister. “However, I decided that I was done until the Goddess paid me a rather unsettling visit last night. She took me on a little trip to show me what the lack of magical balance was doing to our world.”

  “Which is why you made another batch?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she agreed slowly. “However, I want out. I can’t live like this anymore.”

  “Why the old lady in the cookie house disguise?” Baba Yaga inquired. “I mean I know you always loved to bake, but an old lady? You’re as vain as Zelda is.”

  “Excuse me?” I hissed, giving the eighties reject the evil eye.

  “Fine,” Baba Yaga caved with a laugh. “I too am very cognizant of my appearance.”

  “The old woman amused me,” Marge replied. “I could take no chance of being recognized for who I really was.”

  “The secret’s kind of out now,” I said, feeling bad for her.

  “Yes, well I suppose I’ll have to create another wrinkle in time somewhere far, far away. However, the Goddess has given my back my privilege to occasionally see the ones I love,” Marge said with a smile on her face that didn’t reach her sad eyes. “Duty is duty.”

  This was awful. Marge was actually one of the most important pieces of our magical puzzle. Why should she have to live in seclusion?

  “Maybe not. I might have a solution,” Baba Yaga said, thinking aloud with an enormous grin pulling at her lips.

  Her delight was contagious, but I cringed at whatever plan she was brewing. Most of her wild hairs were horrifying. As long as it didn’t involve me going back to the pokey, I supposed it would be okay.

  “Really?” Marge asked, perking up with wide eyes and a hopeful expression.

  “Um… guys,” I gasped out as my stomach went as hard as a rock and the pain left me breathless. “I think we have a little issue here.”

  “Dear Goddess,” Marge shrieked, getting up and running around her small house. “She’s about to have the babies. I’m clueless about this.”

  “Shit,” Baba shouted. “I’m worthless too. Um… get hot water and soft music and maybe some diapers and a teddy bear and maybe something alcoholic for us.”

  “On it.” Marge waved her hands in a panic and the small house suddenly filled with stuffed animals as elevator music wafted through the room at concert decibels.

  “Not working,” I grunted, as I swatted at the mountain of teddy bears. “No room at the inn to actually blow the puppies out.”

  “Damn it, get rid of the bears Marge… and that music sucks. Try some Madonna. Zelda’s having little Werewolves anyway. Conjure up some wolves,” Baba Yaga ordered, all in one hysterical breath.

  “Real ones?” Marge asked for clarification.

  “Goddess, NO, you dingbat! That would be a clusterfuck.”

  “STOP,” I shouted at both of them. “I want Mac and I want my dad. Is the ward still down?”

  Marge waved her hands wildly. “It is now. Where are they?”

  “The whole town was going to surround the perimeter of the berry patch,” I grunted out during a contraction that made me see stars.

  “Perfect,” Marge shouted. “Take my hand, Carol. We’re bringing everyone here.”

  “Now?” Baba Yaga asked, grabbing onto her sister.

  “Yes. Right now!”

  And with the combined power of two of the strongest witches in existence, the entire population of Assjacket was hurtled through the sky in a cookie-scented tornado. The landing thuds sounded like it was storming cats and dogs—or rather wolves, rabbits, raccoons, deer, lions, beavers and then some. But they were all here.

  And we were all about to meet the newest members of our community.

  I just had to get through blowing them out first.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Does anyone but me find this a bit odd?” Fabio asked in an utter state of shock as he ran his hands nervously through his hair. “I mean her stomach was flat this morning.”

  “Can it, Fabdudio,” I growled as I tried desperately to find a position that wasn’t horrifically painful.

  “Nature is beautiful,” Marge said reverently, elbowing my dad who was about to say something else probably equally as unhelpful.

  “Dear Goddess, Fabio,” Baba Yaga whispered, paling considerably as she observed me writhing around on Marge’s guest room bed and zapping magic at whoever was in my sightline. “We are never having children. Ever.”

  “Fine by me,” Fabio agreed, ducking a rather aggressive bolt I flung at him.

  “Zelda, maybe you should just toughen up a bit. It’ll be over in a jiffy if you keep a stiff upper lip,” Fabio explained with a fatherly smile, trying to find something positive and helpful to say.

  He failed.

  Thankfully all of my friends and neighbors were outside of the cookie house and didn’t see me turn my father into a toad for suggesting something so ridiculous.

  Mac, DeeDee, Baba Yaga and Marge were quick learners and avoided saying any trite bullshit sure to set me off.

  “Get the puppies out… get them out now,” I screamed through a particularly horrible contraction. I wanted to castrate Mac and kick the serene expression off of DeeDee’s face. “NOW.”

  “They�
��re coming, Zelda,” DeeDee said calmly, mopping my face and trying to make me comfortable.

  There was no making me comfortable. I opened my eyes after thinking I’d died and gone on to the Next Adventure to find that my dad was once again my dad. However, Baba Yaga had wisely covered his mouth with duct tape.

  “You’re doing great, baby,” Mac said, wincing ever so slightly at the death grip I had on his hand.

  “You are never putting Bon Jovi in me again,” I ground out as another contraction came over me. “When I’m done here, I’m going to neuter you.”

  “That’s fine, sweetie,” Mac said lovingly as he gently pushed my sweaty hair out of my face.

  “Are you even listening to me? AHHHHHHHHH,” I screamed as I was now beyond sure that watermelons were not supposed to pass through openings meant for Bon Jovis.

  “We’re getting close,” DeeDee said with an excited smile.

  “What in the Goddess’s name do you mean we?” I grunted as I tried to do the breathing crap she’d taught me. Mac was breathing with me and winning by a long shot. “I don’t see anyone but me trying to blow a tractor-trailer out of my hoohoo.”

  “Soon, baby. Just hold on,” Mac whispered, pressing his lips to my forehead.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” I screeched as my stomach locked up tighter than the pokey I’d spent nine months in. “Let’s just leave them in there. It’s fine. They like it in there.”

  “Nature is beautiful,” Marge said, only seconds before I zapped her ass, hard.

  “Nature sucks,” I informed her in a brief respite from contractions. “And while we all experiencing nature at my freakin’ expense, I’d prefer not to have my dad in the room while I’m buck ass naked, spread eagle, and about to blow some people out of my woowoo. If you’re staying Fabio, you need to come to the top of the bed.”

  “Will he be in danger up there?” Baba Yaga asked, which I thought was a pretty reasonable question.

  “Yes. Yes he will.”

  “Alrighty then,” she said with a winning smile and a thumbs up. “We’ll just wait outside until you’re done.”

  “Right behind you,” Marge called out as she sprinted after the quickly retreating couple.