Wands Have More Fun

by Rebecca Regnier

  “Excuse me?”

  “I see your ancestors in the storm that brews behind your eyes, in the set of your jaw, but it is your lips, the fullness of them, and your spirit, that reminds me how unique you are.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “So, no small talk then? Like where you went to high school or if I know how to play euchre?”

  “There were no high schools in the sixteenth century,” Brule said, and I titled my head to indicate that I was joking.

  “Do I need a warmer coat? Are these shoes okay for this date?”

  “I will provide all the necessities; shall we commence on our evening?”

  “We shall commence.”

  Brule put out his arm, and I slid mine inside of his. I closed the door and locked it.

  “Where to?”

  “I have arranged dinner on the mountain.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  I did not fully understand what that meant or how we would get there.

  Brule pulled me close to him, I fit under his arm and against his solid chest.

  “Take a breath,” he instructed. I did.

  “Exhale.” I did.

  “Do not forget to do that once or twice before we arrive at our destination.”

  I didn’t have time to question that instruction, and I suspect I also did not comply with it. Brule held tight to me, and we moved up and out so fast I felt like my stomach was still on my front porch while my body sped through space.

  He did not fly, he’d said so, but he did move in a way that was as close to flying without my broom as I’d ever get. I said a silent thank you to the broom training we’d done because without it I might have passed out or thrown up.

  We moved above the tree line. We had to have gone at least a half a mile away before we rocketed to the top of the canopy of trees. I was panicked that we’d crash, but my legs were far from impact when his landed on a steady upper limb and propelled us again.

  I put my head toward Brule’s chest. Flying on the broom, you were aloft. You were sitting on top of something: air, confidence, a cloud, or your own magic maybe.

  This was different. This was a bungee jump without the bungee cord, and it was faster than I’d ever dared to go on the broom.

  “One more, remember my instructions.” Breathing—he’d told me to breathe. I took air in, but it was cold, and it hurt my lungs. It did, however, remind me that I was alive, human, and experiencing something extraordinary.

  We leaped up and forward four times that I counted. We zoomed over the Main Street, and over the houses nearby, and eventually over the wooded emptiness that surrounded Widow’s Bay. And then we landed.

  But we didn’t come down. We remained above it all, but we were finally still; this landing was a true stopping instead of a pushing off.

  “We’re on top of the ski lift!”

  The top of Samhain slopes was the highest point in the entire Upper Peninsula. Brule’s ski resort had a lift that went from his lodge to the top of the mountain and ended with this tower. This tower that we were now on TOP of!

  The flat roof of the tower building had been transformed into some sort of observatory for one. There were cushions arranged in the center. A picnic basket sat beside them. The only light was the light from the stars and the moon. The snow covered the entire mountain, and it glowed blue in the moon.

  “I wanted our time together to be unique.”

  “No risk of anything but that,” I said and worked to catch my breath. He did warn me that holding it was a possibility. I also worried he’d forgotten that I could easily freeze to death.

  “Would you sit with me, look at the stars?”

  “I would.”

  We arranged ourselves on the cushions, and it surprised me how easy it was, after all my fretting, to just enjoy sitting with Brule. The cushions were heated, somehow, and my limbs thawed as we sat.

  “I visit here when I can. When I need to get perspective on something.”

  “What are you struggling to get perspective on tonight?”

  “How much it disturbs me when you smile at Grady.”

  Whoa! Jealousy! Wow.

  “He’s a funny guy, I can’t help laughing and smiling.” Which was true, and in my current life, having someone to lighten the mood was always welcome.

  “I would like to keep you to myself.” With that, leaned in. I tilted up. And the awkwardness of thinking about this moment was replaced by the actual moment itself. My heart beat a little faster, and warmth spread from my face to places farther south.

  I felt giddy and sure of myself at the same moment. Brule’s strong arms pulled me on to his lap. And the million questions I had turned into a million ideas I hadn’t really entertained since my divorce.

  “May we continue?” Brule asked me. It was a question phrased in a strange way, like most of the things he said.

  “Kissing? Yes, we may.”

  A vampire who checked on consent. Was he modern, or was it just what true gentleman did, no matter what the century? Either was fine with me.

  “I have seen you in my waking dreams, just like this.”

  “Great, less talk.” I decided a lot of talking could ruin a good continuing.

  We kissed, outside, in the moonlight of early spring. It was bitterly cold and yet, temperature wise, things had never been warmer.

  Later, as the evening turned into the dead of night, I somehow dozed off. We were outside, but in the warmth of the fur coat that Brule wore more than any other garment, I was peaceful, comfortable, and passed out. Boy, I hope I didn’t snore. That would be embarrassing.

  I woke up, still next to this otherworldly creature that had figured out how to make me comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time.

  “I enjoy watching you at peace.”

  “Ah, yes, peace. Well, thank you.” Some awkwardness returned.

  “I knew we were destined to be together forever.”

  “Uh, forever? Let’s just hold the phone on that one.”

  “I do not have a phone up here.”

  “No, I mean, we don’t have to commit our lives to one another just because, we, kissed and stuff.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “I mean, this didn’t sign me up for eternal damnation or some sort of lifetime commitment did it?”

  I had stepped right into supernatural piles of steaming hot curse quite a lot recently. It was not unprecedented that I misinterpreted things to an epic degree.

  “We are not married if that is what you are asking. We are, however, connected, as our souls have been through the ages.”

  “Oh.” It was a lot. I decided the best course of action was total avoidance of whatever the heck that meant.

  “Can we just enjoy the moment? I’m not ready to be Facebook official.” I leaned my head on his granite hard chest.

  “I agree to this. For now.”

  “Good.”

  The moment was sweet, full of confusion and promise, and short-lived.

  Datewise, things were going well. We seemed to overcome the total lack of ability to connect on pop culture and replaced it was a very nice ability to make out. Making out was a fun new perk of being divorced. I highly recommend it.

  Trouble in town intruded, as it always did. The next morning arrived fast. And I knew, no matter how young it felt to be dating, I needed to get some sleep before tomorrow’s search for stories, wands, and the first Miss Vernal Equinox commenced again.

  “I think it is time to call it a night,” I said, and Brule nodded.

  “Shall we talk about the vampire you interrupted the other day?”

  “What do we need to know?”

  “Only that I do not understand where he came from. He did not arrive here via the normal paths we have closed off.”

  “He was also a total dufus. Not the typical vamp about town,” I remarked. “Why are you all so smooth, even the mean ones?”

  “I do not know exactly what you’re referring to, but I
believe it is because many of us that you’ve encountered are hundreds of years old.”

  “That makes sense. What about the good looks? I mean, I’ve seen old paintings. Good looks were just as rare then as they are today.”

  “Many were made because they were in love, or because they were beloved, or because preserving someone who looks beautiful is a natural thing. It does not mean they are beautiful inside. I have tried, in the making of my children, to look into the soul. I have tried not to make any that I knew would be evil. It has happened because it is impossible to know someone’s heart.”

  “And so, this Dad Bod looking Vampire. What do you think?”

  “Dad bod?”

  “Just a nickname until we figure out who the heck he is and how he was made.”

  “Well, Dad Bod, as you called him, was new. That is certain by the manner of dress.”

  “And he also used modern slang, unlike you, so I suspect he’s young on that score too.”

  “I can only surmise that Alvarado is working to change the balance. We have the upper hand now; that is why we have not seen him. But that is not something he will allow to stand.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Thank you for tonight. It was beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful and excellent kissing partner.”

  I blushed and waved off the compliment.

  “In my century, this would mean we are bonded forever.”

  “Well, as you know, that’s not what it means here. Let’s just say it went well and maybe we do it again?”

  “And you will promise to be true unto me, for eternity?”

  “Uh, that’s a little much, don’t you think?”

  “I propose you do not witness Grady naked again.”

  “That’s never the actual plan, but I will promise unto you that I shall not see Grady butt naked again if it is in my power to avoid it.” It was the most I could offer in the way of vows and commitment.

  “May I accompany you home?”

  “Actually, let’s end it right here. It’s the 2-thousands. We had a nice time, but I’m an independent modern witch. I’ll use my broom and get myself home.”

  “Can you now summon your broom?”

  “I actually packed it!” I had selected a broom that screwed apart to fit in my bag. I knew it was a good idea to have transport at the ready, no matter who I was kissing. I got it out of the bag I’d brought and had it together in seconds. My portable purse broom was better than having an Uber at the ready.

  Brule offered me a hand. We stood up. “I am very good at waiting, decades if needs be,” he said and kissed me lightly on the lips. Man, he was good at that.

  “Gotcha.”

  “Yes, good night, Marzenna. Thank you for agreeing to let me court you.”

  “Right.” I positioned my broom and kicked off. I’d gotten better at the broom flying thing but, though I wanted to look back, I knew it would still be easy for me to mess this romantic and independent exit up, so I looked down at the woods I skirted above.

  I remained focused on riding through the air and guiding the broom back home. It was probably just before midnight. Widow’s Bay was quiet. Customers were probably filling up The Frog Toe, a fact that was confirmed by the packed parking lot. I’d get to see Tatum and my coven tomorrow. I looked forward to that as much as any date with a vampire.

  I continued my flight, feeling more confident than I’d ever felt as a witch, in this town, with these weird powers. Maybe I was coming into my own.

  Then my phone vibrated and all heck broke loose. I had seen Pauline nearly crash while she tried to text and fly. And I didn’t want to risk it. But the thing kept vibrating. Then I got a mental message from Candy. She needed me, wanted me to meet her.

  I lowered the broom to the ground, safely, took out my phone, and looked at the messages.

  “Meet me outside The Moose Hall, don’t let anyone see you.” This was not Candy’s way; she was never secretive. As a public official, Sunshine Open Meetings were practically her ten commandments. But I wasn’t going to argue if a coven member needed me. I was there.

  I was close to The Moose Lodge. I lifted off again and made the less than five-minute trip to the hall. I hovered for a moment and looked for Candy. She was hiding, in the parking lot, behind a minivan. Fawn was with her. She saw me and put her finger to her mouth to let me know I needed to be quiet and invisible. I did my very best to land the broom as softly as possible.

  “Good job on that. You’re getting good. I didn’t know who else to call. Pauline can’t be quiet, Georgianne is dealing with her own crisis, and Tatum’s busy at the bar. You and Fawn were my best options.”

  “I think it has to do with proximity, the ability to summon, don’t you think?”

  “Got me,” I said.

  Fawn shrugged her shoulders and watched me collapse my broom.

  “Neat trick with the broom. Hey, you have a hickey.”

  I decided this meant we were way too close to the lodge’s floodlights.

  “What are we doing out here?”

  “There is something odd going on in there.”

  “Well, I don’t know. I came out here in place of Chief Marvin, who they’d asked to speak. I guess they have experts come in now and then. My husband used to be a member. Anyway, Budd was busy, what with the storm preps, so I volunteered to come out in his place.”

  “Why didn’t you just go in?”

  “You know how we get that sense? Well, I got it big and just dropped down out of sight. Then I started hearing weird stuff. Like, listen.”

  We had sneaked closer and closer to the building as Candy led us on. We were crouched under a window by the kitchen of the Moose Lodge Hall. I’d been here only a few weeks ago when Ridge Schutte had it as its campaign headquarters.

  I heard chanting of some sort. I had no real experience with fraternal orders, but I wouldn’t be surprised if chanting or oath taking of some sort were a part of the procedure.

  “What are they saying?” Candy asked me. I couldn’t really tell.

  “Let’s sneak in the kitchen door, hide inside.”

  “What if we get caught?” Candy asked.

  “We won’t, but you just tell them you’re here for Budd. That will be our cover story,” Fawn said.

  “Okay, good. It would look bad to have the mayor spying and trespassing.”

  “You think?”

  I inched open the door, and the three of us inched our way inside the kitchen of The Moose Lodge.

  The voices were a lot clearer now.

  “Take back The Bay. Take back The Bay!” That’s what it sounded like.

  All three of us exchanged confused looks about that one. There was a gavel pounding, and someone tried to regain control of The Moose Lodge meeting.

  “Now, the issue at hand!” A few stray chants trailed off, but the crowd settled in.

  “I say, who cares about the national charter?” This opinion was greeted with cheers.

  “They don’t understand the warnings; they don’t understand what it is like here. They never will!”

  “Take back The Bay,” shouted various members, and the meeting threatened to get raucous again.

  “I had no idea these meetings were so contentious,” Fawn observed.

  “The national charter is not going to be available for us, but I think we all agree that’s just fine and dandy.”

  “Agree!”

  “Now, we need four volunteers for the next round. It’s perfectly safe.”

  “I volunteer!”

  “We can’t have you do it. You’re too important.”

  We couldn’t see who’d just volunteered.

  They continued to debate. Without seeing what was happening, it was tough to determine what they were volunteering for. Twice a year, members of The Moose stood in the intersection and raised money from passing cars for their charity of choice. I had done a story on how some thought it ought to be stopped, now that there was more traffic. One of them
could get hurt. But so far, they’d held their ground and still stood out in the street, rain, snow, sleet or shine, to collect pocket change.

  “Agreed, you’ve got a mission, and you’ve gotten off to a bang-up start.”

  “I’ll volunteer!”

  “So will I!”

  “Me too!”

  “That means you’ll all leave from here tomorrow at dusk. With a proper send off.”

  “Agreed.”

  “By the Fraternal Order of The Moose Lodge, Independent, I offer our most reverent thanks!”

  “I second that!”

  “Here here!”

  “They’re so weird.” We didn’t know much, but we did know that, whatever they were up to, it was to take back the Bay.

  “It is by these heroic efforts we will see the Distinguished Ladies Club recede into history and our organization will take its rightful and vaunted place!”

  We heard that loud and clear.

  And the chant started again, “Take the Bay!”

  “Looks like they don’t like us,” I said to Fawn, and she widened her eyes.

  “I bet it’s Ridge. It’s always Ridge, causing trouble,” Candy said, and she wasn’t wrong.

  “Let’s get out of here. At least, we know they’re up to something now.”

  “And that something is tomorrow at dusk,” I said. It didn’t bode well. Around Widow’s Bay, stuff that happened after sundown was usually of the Yooper Natural variety.

  We backed up to the kitchen door.

  In our way was none other than Ridge himself. He was walking in the back door as we tried to sneak out.

  “You three! This is trespassing. This is a criminal offense. What are you doing interfering with the business of the lodge?” His voice was getting louder, and our options for logical reasons to answer these questions were dwindling. Candy stood up straight, about to launch into her reason for being here, but we all knew he wasn’t going to buy it.

  “Time,” I said, and all three of us linked hands. We could push pause on a moment. We’d done it twice to stop a melee on a playground, once to stop a bar fight from ripping up Tatum’s place, and one other time, to save me from a bullet.

  We all thought, “FREEZE!” And Ridge Schutte was frozen in place. His face was contorted into a grimace, and his finger was pointed accusingly in our direction. Time stopped for everyone in our vicinity. I hadn’t tested how far our reach extended. Sometimes it was best not to know, I’d decided. For this second or two, The Moose Lodge was freeze-framed for our protection. And my curiosity about what was going on in that meeting got the best of me.