Romancing the Paranormal

by Stephanie Rowe

  “That. Oh, that was close. What got into me, Darcy?”

  “Meow. Meow.”

  “Maybe nothing got into me. After all, I behaved with the utmost maturity.” We walked for a minute. “Damn it. I can’t decide if I’ll regret pushing him away or if I’d regret it if I let him do what he had in mind. Good lord.” My thoughts had me crossing the yard like I was marching in an invisible army. “Something just doesn’t feel right about Vasili.”

  I stopped in midstride. A pale corpse was laid out just off the back porch. “Oh my God. He’s a killer! He dumped a body in my yard.” I tiptoed up to the body. The features of the dead person’s face became recognizable. “Randy? Oh my God! Vasili killed Randy!” Darcy leapt out of my flailing arms. Cats always land on their feet, and all four of Darcy’s landed perfectly, claws fully extended, on the bare chest of Randy’s pale corpse.

  Randy jumped in the air, squealing like a scalded pig. I nearly fainted. “You’re supposed to be dead!” I barked at him.

  Randy swiped at the blood oozing from the fresh claw marks. “Supposed to be dead? That’s your plan? To kill me by throwing your rabies infested cat at me? What did I ever do to you?”

  “No. No, I thought you were dead.” My shock faded and now I was just plain amused. “Or perhaps Casper the Ghost passed out in our yard. What are you doing lying in the grass half naked anyway?”

  Randy was blushing. “For your information, I was taking advantage of this unusually nice day and trying to get some sun.” Darcy circled around Randy as if she were a skilled assassin ready to finish the job.

  “Aha! So you were hoping Vasili would stop by? I see. Well, don’t get your hopes up, or your Randy Johnson for that matter. Let’s go inside. I really need to talk.”

  Chapter Eight

  Randy’s Counseling Session

  Once inside, Randy nosed around in a cabinet above the sink and took out our bottle of Jameson. This was something I learned from the Irish Sisters of Mercy, every good household keeps a bottle of Irish whisky around for medicinal purposes. With a towel clutched against his wounded chest, he managed to pour us two glass tumblers. “Since you look like you’ve seen a ghost and I’ve nearly been slaughtered by that vicious cat attack, I think we could use some therapy.” I quickly finished off my drink in two very audible gulps. Randy watched in admiration. “My Gertie, you do have something on your mind.”

  I turned the glass over to discourage any refills. “Yes, I do. So I was going about looking for the goat, what do you suppose I come across? Vasili. Shirtless, smooth talking, kiss stealing, sexy Vasili.”

  “Oh my. Kiss stealing? Please, don’t hold back any lurid details. Go on.” Randy begged happily. “I’ll be satisfied to enjoy my vicarious fantasies about Vasili through you, sweetheart.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. He just…well…there’s something about him. I mean other than the fact that he’s incredibly handsome, and he has a beautiful accent, and—”

  “And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of? Oh yeah, I’ve noticed.”

  “No. Well, yes, I suppose there is that. But it’s like he has a way of hypnotizing me. He just started talking to me and got really close. He whispered in my ear, breathed on my neck, and then he kissed me. Of course I didn’t kiss him back.”

  “But you didn’t exactly run away or punch him in the head either.”

  “Exactly. That’s the problem. Now, you know me. I’m loyal to the bitter end. I love Brad and I would never, ever go behind his back. Why would I? He’s everything I could want and more. Even sexier than Vasili. Yet, there is something…I just don’t get it.”

  “Hmm. If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with?”

  “Wow. That’s quite witty, Randy.”

  Randy shook his head and waved off my compliment. “Can’t take the credit. It’s from an old song. I think you’re suffering from two things. The perils of a long distance relationship are real. You crave the physical, the romance, the effort someone makes to actually show that they are interested in you. And this Vasili guy is really a charmer. He has that mysterious stranger aura about him. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

  “If that’s all it is, then why do I feel so guilty? And between us, a little part of me wants to run right back there and see what Vasili is all about.”

  “Gertie, you just answered your own question. Of course he’s attractive. He’s exotic even. He sweet talks you and you play along a little. After all, you’ve only been with one guy. You’re probably a little curious. But you’re already in a committed relationship, so you walk away. You feel guilty, but you’re not guilty of anything. So what? Come on, Gertie. Relax about it. It’s not like your fooling around on Brad. In my family, we have a saying. ‘Just because I’m on a diet doesn’t mean I can’t check out the dessert menu’. Capisce?”

  “I guess you’re right. The strange vibes I think I’m getting from him are probably just my own whacky feelings.” I thought more about what Randy said. He can sometimes be fairly wise. “Randy? How did you get so good at understanding this stuff? Have you had a lot of these feelings yourself?”

  “Me? Ha. I don’t have feelings. You, on the other hand, are all about emotions. I’ve had to watch a lot of daytime television to provide you with all this high quality advice. I do think you have a long way to go. I’m sure there are, or will be, a lot of things you’ll think about that will make you question yourself or others.”

  “Like what? Is there like a list or something? ‘Cause we can knock those out right now and I can save myself from the headaches later.”

  Randy laughed. “No. It’s not like that. Just try not to overreact when you find yourself with conflicting emotions. And get Brad down here. You guys are too perfect for each other to let it waste away.” Randy stood up and examined the long scarlet stripes left by Darcy’s claws. “Now, remember to keep this a secret.”

  I was perplexed. “Of course it’s a secret. I wouldn’t tell a soul what I said about Vasili.”

  “Not that. Well, yes that, but don’t tell anyone that I actually have a heart.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at Randy. “I don’t know why you hide the fact that you are a very caring person.” I hugged him and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

  Randy poured himself another shot of whisky and gulped it down. “Self-preservation, my friend.”

  Chapter Nine

  Practicing the Craft

  “Self-preservation? It sounds a bit too lonely for my taste.” I thought about Brad and how I looked forward to his visit. “Not that I have a problem with being alone. I just have a problem with feeling lonesome because I’m missing the one I love.” Then and there I decided I wasn’t going to let Brad slip away back to Chicago. I walked over to the cookbook shelf and pulled out a small grimoire that I picked up on a trip to Scotland last year. “Remember that old Scottish castle that had the hex on it? You know, the one you guys saved me from last year?”

  “Of course, Elspeth and Bruce’s place. The witch and the billion-were. Oh man, those old swingers were a real trip. Why do you ask?”

  “Elspeth said that Brad and I made a perfect couple. We got to talking about love and relationships. I was very curious how she and Bruce were so happily in love after so many centuries. You hear about so many relationships that start out great but turn into complete train wrecks. So, I asked her what their secret was. I figured it would have been all about respecting each other, open communication, and understanding—you know the sort of stuff they talk about on your daytime TV shows. Was I ever wrong! You want to take a guess at what she said?”

  “Considering who we are talking about, I’d have to say it would be one of two things: extreme wealth or plenty of group sex. Maybe both.”

  “Nope.” I dropped the spell-book on the table. “Witchcraft. This grimoire is called The Book of Love, Every Witch’s Guide to Romance. And check this out. Includes Bonus Section: Powering Up Your Hex Life for a Great Sex Lif
e. I haven’t even looked at the first page of this old book yet.”

  “What the hell were you waiting for? And why didn’t you share? It would have been awesome to toy around with this baby.”

  “I don’t know. I suppose I just wanted to make sure when Brad says he loves me, it’s really in his heart and not just because he’s under some enchantment. And I’ve always heard Marie talk about how she disapproves of the use of love potions and the like.”

  “Well, Gertie. Marie is a bit of a hypocrite if you ask me. You’ve seen how Marie and Esmeralda throw magic around whenever they want to satisfy their sexual appetites. They belong to the Witch’s Stud of the Month Club for Christ’s sake.”

  “Of course I can’t help but notice! But those aren’t emotional relationships. They’re just bewitching people to be some kind of one night…Oh, I don’t even know what word to use.”

  “Playthings? Fuck toys?” Randy quipped.

  “Sure. My point is that they aren’t relationships. They’re just picking up men, and in Esmeralda’s case men and women, by putting some spell on the one they want. A spell that wears off in a day or so.”

  With a deep sigh, Randy explained. “Well, I don’t see how charming people for casual sex is somehow more ethical than ensuring happiness between people that already love each other.”

  “Yes! I think you make a great point! Brad and I are already in love. So it’s not like I’m tricking him with a little magic. Thank you, Randy. You always seem to find a way to not make me feel guilty about doing something that I’m not too certain of. I can justify my choices.”

  Randy’s mouth hung open and he gave me his you-have-to-be-kidding-me eyes. He rubbed his forehead for a few seconds before he finally spoke. “Okay, Gertie, I think what you are trying to say is that I’m an enabler. I suppose you’re right.”

  “An enabler? I like that word. Well, thank you for being such a great enabler! Now let’s find a spell in this book that will enable Brad to just forget about going back to Chicago once he gets down here.”

  Randy’s face flushed with a renewed enthusiasm. “Right on! Let’s make some magic.”

  My fingers danced over the table of contents. “We can thank our lucky stars. This is the only English edition spell-book I’ve come across. Let’s see, they are categorized by problem. That’s handy. Wandering Eye, Liars, Gamblers, Drunkards—”

  “Hey, Gertie. If a witch has any of those guys, she doesn’t need a magic spell. She just needs a baseball bat and a good attorney. The book title says romance. There has to be at least one spell devoted to something romantic.”

  “Good point. I think I’ve got it. Here’s a group of spells under a category called The Persuasion Spells. Some pretty handy ones in there, too. It’s no wonder that Elspeth also enjoyed so much success in business and the stock markets. I have no doubt she was casting these little charmers to manipulate the markets.”

  “Doesn’t sound too romantic to me.” Randy moaned.

  I continued down the page until something finally stood out. “Wait. I think I’ve got it. It’s called For the Witch Who Longs for His Return. Listen to this, ‘Many a good witch has lost her man when he was lured away by Odin’s battle cry. This spell will bring him back from the distant lands. He will return to your home and he will never again want to leave.’ I think that just might do the trick. What do you say, Randy?”

  “I can’t see anything wrong with giving it a try. What do we need to do?”

  “Just the ordinary witchcraft. I’ll stand inside a standard magic circle, light the four candles of earth, wind, fire, and air and then I have to draw this ancient symbol of Norse magic, the Valknut.” I pointed out the illustration. “This diagram here, it’s supposed to be the Valknut. It looks like three interlocking triangles instead of three interlocking rings that we normally see. Anyway, I have to draw nine runic symbols around me. All of them are drawn out here as well. I’ll read exactly what it says next.

  ‘This is an old spell handed down from Norse Seidr magic. The actual Norse language of the spell must be said by the witch who longs for her lover. On the first night following the incantation, the father of the four winds will return the lover to the witch. This is a spell of Groa. Conditions and terms apply.’

  “Well, whatever all that last part means. Seems easy peasy to me, Randy.”

  “Better hurry up and get it done before you have to fly Brad down.”

  “I am so excited! To the attic!” I grabbed Randy by the hand and we ran up two flights of stairs to the empty attic. Because of the open space and wooden floor, the attic is the place where I like to perform the occasional spell that requires drawing out a magic circle. I opened a cigar box that I keep a pack of sidewalk chalk in, four different colored candles, and a lighter.

  “Quick question for you, Gertie. Is there a secret color code for the chalk circle? I didn’t realize magic involved the use of so many pastels.”

  “Not that I know of, but you know me. I prefer color and the more the better.” I replied as I drew out a pale orange circle around me. I placed the four candles on the line, one for each direction of the compass. “There. Hey Randy? I’m a little hesitant. This is my first time using magic for something I want. Every spell I’ve ever cast has been to help out someone else or some poor creature. You need to do some enabling before I chicken out.”

  “Enabling? I’ve got your back on this. Listen, this isn’t really for you at all. You and Brad are destined to be together at some point anyway. You’re just nudging fate along a little. This spell is really to help me. Remember? If Brad is here with you, I won’t be left alone with this magical menagerie you’ve created.”

  “Yes! Thanks for enabling me, Randy. You’re the best.”

  “Not a problem. Now let me see how you do this. I am an apprentice as well.”

  “How about blue for the Valknut. You know this design almost seems Celtic. I like it.” I drew the outline in blue chalk and shaded it all in with various colored chalk. “Done. Now the runes.”

  “Those are runes? They look like just a bunch of crooked lines. In the movies they look completely different. You know, something that would make a cool looking tattoo.”

  “Yep. Runes are nothing more than the old Scandinavian alphabet, just straight lines and some angles. Wanda the veterinarian showed me some once. She’s actually studied the Norse magic and mythology quite a bit. She was the one that helped me create my first dragon.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you named that mean motherfucker Olaf.”

  “Bite your tongue! You know I hate that word and Olaf is not mean. Sure, he has an off day now and again, but I suspect that’s pretty normal for a dragon.”

  “He is exactly the kind of beast I prefer not to be left alone with, so please carry on with the spell.”

  “Now, whatever you do, don’t cross over the circle until I’m done. It’s a sure way to spoil the whole thing.” I took a minute to focus on how to pronounce the Old Norse language.

  “Vaki þú, Gróa,

  vaki þú, góð kona,

  vek ek þik dauðra dura,

  ef þú þat mant,

  at þú þinn mög bæðir

  til kumbldysjar koma”

  Engrossed in preparing to recite the spell’s second tongue twisting stanza, I missed the dramatic scene that unfolded before me. Slow, scraping noises shuffled behind me. I realized it must be Randy, and for some strange reason he was moving backwards, away from my magic circle. My concentration was completely interrupted by his frightened whispers. “Ger, Gertie? Wha—what is that?” he whimpered. I took my eyes from the book and turned around to see what sort of prank he was pulling. When I noticed that his face was even more pale than normal, I knew he wasn’t joking. He was terrified. His arm was barely raised and a lone wobbly finger pointed to something that appeared while I had been busy studying the text.

  I spun around and quickly dropped to the floor. A towering shadow stood, or perhaps I should say it levitated in
front of me. But it wasn’t really a shadow. It was a dark mass of undulating folds, a surreal robe of darkness. It only took a crawling, terrifying minute until arms and a woman’s head formed from the murky depths of the shadowlike thing. Eyes of piercing blue light and long bony fingers appeared to complete the metamorphosis.

  The magic circle was flooded with an ethereal bluish glow. Then she spoke. The words were in the Norse language and I had absolutely no idea if the ghastly specter was cursing me or blessing me. I forced myself to stand up. “I—I’m sorry but I don’t understand what you’re saying. Eng—English? Do you speak English? Me no hablo Norse.”

  “Christ, Gertie. That’s Spanish.” Randy grouched. “Just make it go away.”

  I figured it would at least understand a polite tone. “Um, ma’am? I’ve changed my mind on this spell. We won’t be needing your assistance today.” The spirit didn’t answer. “So, we’re all done here. Yes? You can go now. Thanks for stopping by.”

  Then the monstrous phantom roared at me. The unholy sound came at me with such force it knocked me back a step. I’m pretty sure my hair flew straight back behind me. The only defense I had was the useless spell-book. I threw it as hard as I could and it sailed straight into her center mass. A stream of obscenities poured out of Randy’s head as he scooted across the floor. It was a remarkable improvisation that would make even the saltiest old sailor hang his head in shame. And yes, he was actually squirming around the chalk circle, on his belly, like an eel that had been tossed up on land. A cloud of pale orange chalk dust was created by his wiggling arms and legs. “Erase the goddamned chalk drawings, Gertie! Hurry! Put those fucking candles out!” Although I’m sure he included many more colorful adjectives in his words.