He gasped for air as Hilda stood there, a hand
on her hip, the wand in her other hand touching her cheek. "Damn,
lady, can I hire you as a bouncer?", was the first thing Patrick
dared to say.
Hilda let out a small sigh. "Tsk, tsk, tsk... I
am so sorry. That was the wrong opening." She turned on her heel,
walked to the table where her shoulderbag was waiting and picked
that up.
Patrick got off the stool. "I beg your
pardon?"
Hilda did not look at him, she just shook her
head. "Sorry. As I said. Bouncer..." As she spoke the last word,
she pointed the wand at the barkeeper, over her shoulder.
Patrick felt as if he tripped over something and
fell to the floor. From which he bounced up again. And fell. And
bounced up again.
"I may come and visit you again... bouncer..."
Hilda said, as she walked out of the bar.
During all the happenings in the bar, that Bubba
and his group had no knowledge of, the bikers helped Bubba to his
feet again. They managed to get the rope off the collar, but the
collar itself seemed determined to stay put, no matter hard they
yanked at it.
"I'm gonna kill that bitch," Bubba fumed, "but
not today! To the bikes!"
Great was their dismay when they saw their
precious motorcycles laying on the street, but their fear of the
grey-haired woman in the bar was still larger than their desire for
retribution, so they picked up their machines.
As Bubba was engaged in that, he saw something
on the sidewalk. It was a necklace, and it looked fancy. "Hey babe,
get your ass over here," he barked at his sweetheart, who to the
rest was known simply as Angel. Bubba picked up the necklace.
"Here. Got you a present. Put it on and get on the bike."
With all of them seated, they fired up, and with
squealing tires and roaring engines, they raced out of the street
and a few minutes later they disappeared from the town. For
now.
Hilda came out of the bar and saw the last
motorcycle turn around a corner. She nodded, understanding that the
strange two-wheeled machines and the big men were connected.
"Hmmm," was all she said. She walked through the street, that still
was void of other life as the inhabitants of the homes were not
sure yet that the bikers had gone.
After a while she found a small park with a
bench, where she sat down. She opened the bag and looked inside it.
Somewhat disturbed, she looked again. "Vomotio torquis," she
mumbled, but nothing happened. She repeated the command, now with
more urge, but the result was similar. "Come on, throw up the
necklace, damn you," she mumbled somewhat louder. Again nothing
happened. "I hate Latin," she shared with the bag.
Hilda got up, laid out the bag on the bench and
swirled her wand over it. The bag turned back into the clothes she
had worn on arriving in this insane place. Quickly she went through
the things, but did not find the necklace. A new stream of Latin,
most words not available in any bible, flowed from her lips.
"Hey, got a problem?", a young man wearing a cap
and chewing gum asked. He had been walking through the park,
shortcutting to the place of some friends. Curiously he peeked at
the things on the bench.
"Go away." Hilda was not in the mood for
friendliness. Never was. Especially not now.
"Hey, I'm just trying to be friendly, you know,"
the young man muttered, shrugging. He walked on, whistling a tune
very out of tune.
Hilda's eyes became slits as she pointed the
wand at the back of the man. "Why bother," she then grumbled. She
turned her clothes back into the shoulderbag and sat down on the
bench again. "Necklace. Where is it. I must have it." These three
short sentences kept churning in her mind. The necklace was her
source of real power. That would be able to tell her how to get
back to the real world, and then she would be able to get rid of
the obnoxious black-haired girl with her friendly face, her songs
and her manners.
The only place where it could be, if not in the
bag, was in the alleyway where she had arrived here. Hilda got up
and followed her route back, past the bar where a number of voices
inside mumbled over the sound of the bouncer, then she passed the
bookstore that still was closed. Wand in hand, she started looking
for the necklace. It somehow worried her slightly that the wand did
not immediately pull her towards it. Maybe it had flown away a bit
further into the alley...
Hilda went deeper into the small sidestreet, the
light of day disappearing rapidly as she progressed. Her wand lit
up the space, but there was no tugging in her wrist that pointed
out that the necklace was near. "Where are you? Necklace, where are
you?" Hilda forced friendliness into her voice. If she did not, the
necklace would never respond. "Hello, necklace?"
But no matter how friendly she spoke, how
pleading her words, the necklace was and remained silent. She
walked back to the main street, where the alley began.
"Desidero torquis," she said, moving the wand
about slowly as if she was dowsing. There had to be a sign, she
knew it. The necklace had been around her neck when she came here,
it had gotten lost here, so there had to be a trace.
A pair of ladies came walking down the street
and saw Hilda. "Are you looking for something?", one of them
asked.
Hilda shot upright. "My necklace. Do you have
it?" Her tone was sharper than she had wanted.
The two women backed up a few steps. "My, my,
touchy, aren't we? No, we don't have your necklace. What did it
look like? Maybe we can help you find it."
"Are you witches?"
One woman's eyes became wide. "The nerve!" She
grabbed her friend by the arm and rapidly walked past this strange
woman who was clearly out of the most necessary of marbles.
Hilda felt hurt by that. She folded her arms
over her chest and looked at the two women walking off. A single
thought later, the high heels under the shoes of the woman who had
been appaled broke. The collapse was accompanied by a scream and a
falling woman.
"No one's going to fuck with me, here. They'd
better know it."
Hilda went back to her searching, and this time
there was the slightest tremble. She went down on her knees,
scanning the floor. Yes, it was certain. The necklace had been
here. It had rested here, on the ground. But where was it now? A
cold shudder ran across her spine as she looked at the road, seeing
the scratchmarks where the motorcycles had been.
"Oh no," she moaned, seriously despairing for a
moment. "They did not take my necklace. They didn't. They
shouldn't." Lying on elbows and knees, her forehead resting on the
concrete, she sighed and let the bad feeling take over for a while.
It would feed her anger and give her the power needed to go after
the gang.
An elderly man with the features of an ancient
mage, stopped near her. "Are you not well, child?"
Hilda sat on the ground and looked at him. "I'm
okay. I lost my necklace. Now I need a crystal ball and a
broom."
The old man frowned. "I would not know where to
purchase a crystal ball. But down the street, on your left, there's
a supermarket that has excellent brooms. My wife gets hers there,
and she's very satisfied with them."
Hilda felt a kindred spirit. "Your wife... is
she... magical?" She used the word with care. Perhaps this man was
as much the mage as he appeared, and she knew better than to mess
with ancient mages. They could whoop her ass and make no fuss about
it.
"Oh yes," the old man smiled. "She's been
magical from the first moment we met. She's my witch and will
remain mine."
"Oh, I believe you, ancient one," Hilda said
respectfully.
"Ancient one?" The man smiled. "Not many people
call me that. I do like the sound of it though. It's much better
than old fart." He chuckled. "So, for the broom you find the
supermarket. Maybe someone there knows about the ball too. Take
care now." He nodded and walked off, flipping his cane.
Hilda watched as the man left. He had to be one
hell of a sorcerer if he could wield a magic staff like that. Then
she got to her feet, picked up her wand and shoulderbag and started
off into the direction the ancient one had pointed out. To the
'supermarket'.
It did not take her long to get there: her new
long legs carried her rapidly. She arrived at a large building,
with giant glass windows. Oh, if only she could have a magical
mirror the size of that, Hilda thought, she'd be the envy of every
witch in the world. She stared at the goods that were on display
behind the window, wondered about the function of many of them. She
then wondered if this was the proper place, or if the ancient one
was pulling a prank on her. She looked at the large colourful sign
over the glass. It did say 'supermarket'. She found a door, also
made of glass, was stunned at how it opened by itself (powerful
magic, undoubtedly the work of the ancient one), and went inside
the store.
The store proved to be a maze. Aisle after aisle
with products on long metal shelves. Lights from long white tubes
instead of candles. It confused Hilda. In the end she just grabbed
someone by the coat, showed her wand and said: "Take me to the
brooms."
The man who fell victim to the witch was under
her spell instantly. He nodded and in rather a mindless state he
walked her to the section of household materials.
"Where are the brooms?", Hilda asked, looking
around at the objects assembled.
"These are the brooms," the man said. He pointed
at the long coloured sticks, the coloured bristles.
Hilda's eyes became slits again. This could not
be true. Witches of this place would ride on that?! "Be serious. I
want a proper broom."
Despite her wanting something a bit more
traditional, the man took one of the colourful things and handed it
to her. "This is a proper broom, my lady."
"How can this be? It isn't even made of wood!",
Hilda cried out, attracting the attention of several employees.
"Is there a problem?", a girl from the store
asked.
"Yes. This man is under my spell, and yet he
tells me that this is a proper broom." Hilda held the broom in
front of the girl's face.
"Well, he's right. That is a broom." The girl
wondered what had gotten into this woman. "I know. I work here and
I have one of those. They're great." It would never hurt to
advertise the merchandise.
"So you have one of them." Hilda eyed the girl
and asked her wand if the girl was telling the truth. The wand
confirmed that. "Good. I believe you. Then now I need a crystal
ball." She pushed the man away and waited for the girl.
"Crystal? We don't carry crystal, ma'am. But we
have some nice glass ones!"
"It has to be crystal. Glass does not work.
Don't you know that?" Hilda became impatient. She got impatient
rather quickly, most of the time. This time it was very quickly.
She had to go after her necklace.
The shop assistant looked confused now. "Our
glass ones work," she tried.
"I don't think so. Tell me where there is a shop
that has crystal balls and I will go there at once," Hilda said,
her wand swaying, rendering the girl's resistance to zero.
"I'll take you to it," the girl said, and
started walking to the exit.
As they left the store, the theft-alarm started
beeping, but it was no match for the wand. The beeping stopped, and
after some minutes so did the smoke.
Hilda and the girl had been walking for more
than five minutes. Twice they had been interrupted by someone from
the store, who demanded that the girl would return to her work and
the broom should be paid for, but these two had proven to be only
minor nuissances.
"How far is that place with the crystal?", Hilda
asked.
"About half an hour," the girl said, "as I don't
have a car. Unless you want to call a cab."
"A car. Yes. I have seen one of those," said
Hilda. "They are not trustworthy. We'll fly instead." She mounted
the broom. "Sit in front of me."
The girl, even while under a spell, stared at
the witch. "You're kidding me."
"Sit In Front Of Me!" Hilda's voice became
irresistable. The girl mounted the broom also, in front of Hilda.
They drew quite some attention, as the street where they were was
rather a busy one. People stopped and stared at what funny thing
was going to come next.
"What kind of retarded place is this," Hilda
muttered. "Never seen a witch in your life?" Angered with all the
attention she threw an invisibility spell and then made the broom
lift off. "Speak where the place with the crystal balls is, girl,"
she then commanded.
The girl, terrified and holding on to the broom,
stammered an address.
The broom made a sharp turn and headed up and
over the roofs of buildings, high over the streets and the bustling
traffic. Unseen.
"We are flying," she then remarked.
"Yes. Of course we're flying. What else did you
think I'd want a broom for? Sweeping?" Scorn dripped from every
single word.
The broom swept downwards in a sickening spiral.
The poor girl had to put in all her strength to keep her lunch in
place. The landing however was very gentle.
Hilda held the broom. "Where are the crystal
balls?"
The girl pointed to a Swarovsky store. "In
there."
Hilda looked at the window. There was crystal.
She looked at the girl, snipped her fingers and said: "Absolvo."
Immediately the spell broke. The girl felt she was free, turned and
ran off as if the devil was on her heels. She'd probably prefer him
over Hilda.
"Still got the touch, girl," Hilda prided
herself. Then, broom in hand, she entered the large store.
As soon as she stepped into the place, a large
man with a square chin stopped her. "You are not allowed to carry
that object into the store, madam," he said.