Meet Opal

A shriek filled the seafoam green bathroom. Crouching in the corner of the shower I shivered. The water running down my blue spruce hair had turned as cold as the water spewing from the shower head. By now I should know not to shower with the washer running. But when one lives in Texas, one learns to shower quicky after being outdoors in the summer to avoid feeling swampy. I’d just spent hours working on the yard and just wanted to feel clean. Now there was a waterfall coming down on me that wasn’t arctic cold, water in these parts didn’t truly cool off until Octoberish. However, it was tens of degrees cooler than what I had been standing under. The clanking of the water heater from the next room over indicated it was empty. Sighing, I gave myself permission to cheat. It was easy to justify it since I had been such a good girl lately.

There were multiple kinds of magic users in this world. I qualified as a witch. We come in various flavors. Some were regular people who learned from magic books to work basic spells. Others could manipulate the magic that flowed through nature. Then there were ones like me, a natural witch. The magic ran in my veins. Simple magics I could perform without spells or objects. The more intricate I might have to use incantations or a talisman. Thankfully heating up the water pouring down on me in a soft steam of lukewarm disappointment was one of those simple things. I wrapped my hand around the fancy shower head that was supposed to infuse the water with a rose scent that I had never noticed. Picturing fire and the pressure from a fire hose, I uttered my magic phrase. “Whoop, there it is.”

The water instantly turned into a sultry deluge. Just the way I like it. In my opinion, shower pressure should beat you up like you owe it money. Taking my time, I lathered and rinsed my hair while enjoying my new shower. Hearing a crash from somewhere nearby I turned off the shower. I noticed my tin flamingo sign on the floor as soon as I stuck my head out from behind the curtain. Muttering under my breath, I quickly wrapped my short hair up in a towel then grabbed a bath sheet. Before I started the lecture, I dried myself off. Once the towel was secured across my boobs, I turned to face the orange furball lying on the towels stacked on the shelf by the window. Said window being where the tin sign had been propped up. “Mango!”

He rolled over so he was on his back, reaching his front paws towards me. His amber eyes locked on me from his handsome orange face. While I brushed my hair, I explained to him how I didn’t appreciate his hair on my towels. Also, that my décor was not to be messed with. He stretched then brought his paws to cover his face. Taking that as a sign of contrition, I put the sign back where it belongs. Judgment radiated off him as I pulled my hair back in ponytail. “Don’t judge me. It’s ok for me to use my powers once in a while.”

He continued to stare with his tail flipping around. Sometimes hitting the sign making it rattle in the window. “It’s doubtful anyone noticed. It was a small, tiny, barely noticeable bit of magic.”

I crossed the hall into my bedroom to find clean clothes to put on. The wine-colored walls made the room darker than the rest of the house requiring a lamp be left on to see even during the day since I never open the room darkening curtains. Farmhouse styled white furniture filled the room to brighten it up a little bit. A glance at the time had me quickly slipping into my work uniform. The hot strong shower had enticed me into a longer shower than I time allowed.

As I reached for my purse, I heard something fall. This time it was wooden sounding. A quick dash had me in my second bedroom that I used as my den. The wall lined with bookcases appeared to be in order. As did my desk that sat in the middle of the room facing the back window to get a view of the woods. However, there was a broom lying on the floor beside the altar. It was the family broom. Passed down through the generations. Not that I knew how many since I tuned out long before my mother could finish telling me about all the previous owners. It was one of the few heirlooms I had taken when I fled. Normally it was displayed on top of the cabinet beside the window. Now it lay on the floor. Frantically I tried to remember if there had been a gust of wind. These old pier and beam houses could move quite a bit from things like that. Or maybe a big truck had gone down the street too fast. Sadly, I hadn’t noticed either before the broom fell.

“Broom fell. Company’s coming. “The high-pitched voice came from the bookcase to my left. Disdain obvious on my face I turned to glare at the gnome sitting on the little house situated in the top corner of the bookshelf. From the outside it appeared to be a ceramic tea light house. But once the house was lifted up inside was a bed and a few knickknacks. It was the home of Flimp the gnome. Well, kinda a gnome. She was dressed in lederhosen, had the tall hat with a full beard and used to be a saltshaker. The matching pepper shaker named Missy was sitting on a shelf across the room.

“That’s an old wives’ tale. It might have just fallen.” Missy was identical to Flimp other than she had holes forming a P on her hat instead of the S.

“If it just fell, why didn’t anything else fall? Huh?” Flimp was running and jumping to get to her other half. I sighed. This was going to turn into a fight. “You felt that surge of magic just like I did! Did it with no ward up or anything to hide it. She’s attracted another magic user. You know she has!”

“Don’t tell me what I know!” Missy started swinging her tiny little fists at her twin. With two fingers I grabbed Flimp’s hat to carry her back to her shelf. Feisty little thing tried to bite me. She punched and kicked the air until I sat her beside her house.

“We don’t know anything yet. Yes, I used magic. But we don’t know if anyone felt it. I’m going to work. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

Not looking back, I snatched my purse off the kitchen table on my way to the carport. While watching the backup camera I backed down my long driveway which I had thankfully mowed earlier in the day. The railway ties that lined the drive had gotten hard to see with overgrown yard. Some still had their spikes sticking up and I figured someday I was going to lose a tire to them. I had already lost two lawnmowers from hitting them. At some point in time, I was certain someone had cursed my yard. In the ten years I had lived here I’d killed three mowers and could not keep a yard service no matter how much I paid them. I’d tried doing a basic blessing on it but had been afraid to do anything more for fear of attracting attention to myself.

Almost a decade ago I had moved into this tiny little town off the highway. It was mostly farmland. A few businesses were along the highway and beside the school. It was quiet and didn’t get many visitors. When the school had a game at the stadium, I hid inside the house just in case any magic users came around. For two decades I had been on the lamb. I’d gotten pretty good at hiding.

A few minutes later I pulled in the parking lot of the local convenience store that I cashiered at. Carefully I parked between the pallets of overflow stock that was currently in the back lot. Nice thing about summers in Texas, the outside was a perfect place to store things since rain didn’t usually swing by from Memorial Day until Labor Day. Before climbing out of the nondescript mommy mobile I drove for anonymity, I pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Being a natural witch meant I had to be careful about what I touched. Sometimes magic would randomly happen. Good ol’ latex, preventing accidents since 1919.

On my way through the breakroom, I grabbed a purple smock to fasten over my clothes. Lucille was embroidered in gold on the front of it. The owners insisted on our smocks being the colors of the local school. After clocking in I pushed a rolling cart into the store. There was no stopping the eye roll when I noticed it was full of Halloween décor. I didn’t know which was worse. Halloween décor in August or the cliché yard signs of witches riding broomsticks. With the sounds of nineties country songs twanging out of the little radio, I started putting up the offensive décor per the diagram. Somewhere up front my coworker was running the register so I allowed myself to zone out. This hadn’t always been my life.

I’d grown up in a normal witch family. Went to school with all the nonmagical kids. Learned witchcraft from my family at home like all the other witch kids. Except the rich ones of course. They all went to private schools that included witchcraft in the curriculum. My hoity toity aunt and Uncle had sent my cousin, Stacy, to one of them. She came home talking about all kinds of spells that weren’t taught at ordinary witch homes. The way she sneered ordinary always grated on my nerves. It was she who introduced me to forbidden magic.

We spent so many summers hiding out in the shed converted to a tiny house in her parents’ backyard. Stacy would sneak out her schoolbooks. She was constantly trying to stump me. Unlike me, she required spells and objects to work magic. Frustrated that I could work the spells the first time that took her months, she smuggled a book on forbidden magic out. For two summers we worked on them every chance we could. Once I managed to control the movements of her cat for just a moment before the spell broke. The summer before our senior year, I figured out one of the most forbidden.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” Towering over me was Thor. Well probably not actually Thor but he could double as him. Sun-streaked dirty blonde hair just a little shaggy almost reached his broad shoulders. Twin sapphires were situated on a face that I was certain had been sculpted by Michealangelo himself. The strong jaw line faintly covered in dirty blonde stubble. Men’s suites were not my thing but the charcoal one him looked expensive and just snug enough to be sure he spent time at the gym. I put down the cheap, flimsy cardboard pumpkin that I was stocking on the shelves. As I started to stand, he reached a handout to help me up. Smiling, I waved it away. The gloves should prevent any magical currents but, it was best not to touch anyone.

“Can I help you, Sir?” I was proud that I managed to stand without grunting. My knees had not gone into their forties gracefully. They weren’t helped by my taco addiction either. Smiling at the Norse God standing in front of me, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I find myself unexpectedly staying in town. Where would I find toiletries?” Thor spoke with a hint of the slow drawl of the south mixed with the enunciation that came with Ivy League schooling. Flashing him a coy smile I gestured to the left. His eyes lingered on my glove covered hands. A few years ago, it would have been odd for a store clerk to be wearing gloves. Thanks to the pandemic, now people just think I’m paranoid.

“Right this way Sir.” I escorted him to the aisle with toothbrushes and other sundries. I knew my gray eyes were sparkling as I looked up at him. Normally I didn’t have to look up at people. Being just a smidge under six foot usually had me at an advantage. Not that I minded looking up at this one. He flashed me a grin that showed his perfect teeth in a perfect mouth. “Anything else I can help with today?”

“Only if you can recommend a good hotel in the area.” My little slice of East Texas actually boosted many hotels. We were a lake community, most weekenders had their own lake houses or stayed in the plethora of RV parks. However, we did have more hotels than the average small community due to the lake. I suggested a property that was individual bungalows with a lake view that was a few miles away. While I was ringing him up, he was making reservations on his phone. He paid with a card in the little machine, so I wasn’t able to see his name.

“Thank you for all your assistance.” He took his bag of toiletries. At the door he paused to look back over his shoulder. “I like your hair. See you around Peekablue.”

Under the guise of straightening the carts, I watched what could be the hottest guy in the county walk to a rented SUV. Peekablue? The name was familiar. I’d have to look it up on my break. After his car was out of sight I walked back to the where I had been working. It seemed odd that I had noticed him on such a primal level. I had forsaken dating years ago. The risk of getting attached and then having to flee was too great. As I stood in the aisle where Thor had been standing, I noticed something that had escaped me earlier. Hibiscus and vanilla hung in the air. It was slight, but unmistakable. Why would a man that looked like that need a love spell? Was it for me? Damn it. I didn’t even know his name.

I didn’t know if the need to find him was the spell or self-preservation. There were multiple covens hunting me. Probably even the governing bodies of witchcraft. Stacy swore she hadn’t told anyone that I could do the forbidden spells. Yet somehow, people found out.

A customer that had turned down the aisle turned around quickly to walk the other when they saw my face. The fear in their eyes pulled me out of my funk. Quickly I smoothed the hair I had been dragging my hands through. I took a couple of deep breaths to steady myself. Once my emotions were under control, I returned to stocking the offensive witch items. Keeping my mind on the task at hand, I stored the Thor problem in a little box in my mind to be dealt with when I got to the safety of my house. For the next four hours I had to be just another salesgirl in a little shop. Nothing to draw attention to myself.

When I picked up the pumpkin spice scented candle, I realized I could feel the cool glass on my finger. Fuck. When had I ripped my glove?