Everyday Witches

Witches were everywhere. Not your typical black clad, pointy hat wearing witch, but everyday witches. Men and women who had a deeper connection with the supernatural side of life; who lived regular lives by Earthly standards but were also privy to the goings on of the magical creatures who hid their existence from most humans; and also the magical workings of potions and spells. This particular witch did not want to be starting out her morning with a trip to the hospital, but it was the type of thing that was expected for people like Marge and her magical community.

The morning had started off like any other but had turned sour when her husband Jeff, a police officer with the local division, had received a call about a group of kids who had all been admitted to the hospital for suspected poisoning. Witches often gravitated to such careers so that they could help keep an eye on happenings just such as this. It was possible that there was some sort of maniac on the loose who had poisoned a bunch of children that lived on the same street, but it was more likely that there was some sort of magic involved. And that was where Marge came in. As a policeman’s wife and a witch, she knew and was friendly with a good portion of the community; and could ferret out, in an unofficial way, what exactly might be going on here and what they would need to do about it.

She pulled up to the local hospital, a tin of homemade cookies in tow, and parked in the closest spot she could find. Then she made her way to the entrance of the emergency room. She knew most of the employees here and she was sure that she could find someone to give her the low down and to point her in the right direction. One of the children who had been supposedly poisoned was the son of a witch she knew pretty well and she just needed to find out where he and his family might be right now. She pushed open the large glass-paned door that led into the emergency room and slid her oversized sunglasses back on her head to hold back the mass of curly blond hair. Then she scanned the waiting room for any signs of someone involved, or someone she might know. It was relatively early still, only 8 a.m., and the waiting room was mostly empty. At one end of the room sat a man with a towel wrapped tightly around a hand that had been recently injured, as was obvious by the red stain seeping into the fabric of the white towel. A row over from him sat an elderly woman who wore a medical mask over her mouth and sat with her head back against the wall, looking as if she might be asleep, or nearly there. And, at the other end of the room sat a young couple with two kids in tow, no telling what they might be in for. It didn’t appear as if anyone she was looking for was in the area, so Marge went up to the attendant who sat behind the glass enclosure where patients and visitors were screened and admitted.

The attendant was a young man with spiky brown hair and soft brown eyes. He had been working at the E. R. for several years now and Marge had met him several times. He wasn’t a witch but he was friendly and a good man. “Nathan,” she said, cheerily, in spite of the gurgle of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. “It’s good to see you again!” She reached into the tin of cookies she had baked yesterday and pulled out a wrapped peanut butter cookie. Looking sneakily in either direction, she passed the cookie through the little gap at the bottom of the window. Nathan smiled and quickly pocketed the prize.

“Mrs. Johnson,” he said kindly, his eyes sparkling. “Always a pleasure. What can I do for you today? Nothing serious, I hope?”

Marge smiled dismissively and said, “No, nothing too terrible, I think. The family’s fine anyway. I have a friend who’s son might’ve been admitted recently though.” She frowned slightly and drummed her fingers on the countertop. “Jeff got a call this morning and we heard that our friend Sue and her son Billy might be here. I’d really like to pop in and visit, if possible.” She hated when these sort of things happened, and the nervous energy was palpable. She realized that she had been drumming up a storm on the counter with her well tended but sensible nails and forced her hand down to her side. She patted the side of her large leather purse instead, aiming to soothe the small fairy that lay hidden in its depths. They tended to pick up on the agitation and such that surrounded them and since this very special one was Marge’s chosen familiar, the bond was even more close. Marge was one of only a handful of witches that she had ever heard to have wrangled a fairy for a familiar. It was quite uncommon; as they valued their freedom and independence just as much as your average human. She had met Annabelle as a teenager; when her connection with the Gaia, or the Earth’s magical energy, had been recently awakened and at its peak. The young fairy had been smitten and had vowed to spend the rest of its days with Marge; but that was a story for another time.

Nathan nodded solemnly and held up a finger, picking up the phone that sat beside him on his desk. He spoke softly and unintelligibly for a moment, his head bowed towards the desk so that Marge couldn’t even read his lips. Finally, he set the phone back in its cradle and looked up at Marge. “You’re right,” he said to her. “Sue brought Billy into the E. R. overnight and they’ve been sent up to a room in the south tower. Just a minute.” He leaned back over the desk, fishing a pencil and a piece of paper out of a little desk organizer. Then he quickly wrote down the room number and directions on the paper and handed it through the little window gap to Marge.

“Is he…,” Marge said softly, as she tucked the paper into her pocket. It didn’t sound like the prognosis was too terrible, but she hated to go in unaware.

“He seems to be sick, but probably fine,” Nathan said slowly. “I’m not sure exactly what it is. It seems that the situation has evolved,” he stared off past her for a moment as if lost in thought. “Anyway, they thought poisoning at first, but now it appears as if it might just be a nasty virus.” He reached for something else on his desk and passed it through the window to Marge. She reached for it and realized that it was one of those paper masks that they give out at hospitals to prevent the spread of illness. “I’d wear one of these if I were you,” Nathan continued, nodding at the mask in her hand. “Just in case.”

Marge nodded in response and thanked him, tucking the mask into her pocket for now. She’d worry about it once she got to the boy’s room. Then she plucked the paper with the directions back out and, looking at the hastily scrawled information, gave Nathan a distracted wave goodbye.

The hospital served a large area of their county and was therefore pretty large itself. It was made up of two towers with seven floors a piece, and several other smaller buildings for the various specialty practices they housed. Billy’s room was on the second floor of the south tower, which luckily wasn’t too far away from where she was now. Following Nathan’s directions, with the help of many well placed signs placed strategically throughout the hospital, she made her way there relatively quickly and paused once she reached the door to his room. She took a quick peek into her purse to make sure that Annabelle was doing okay and then donned the face mask that Nathan had given her. Then she knocked softly on the door.

A woman just a few years younger than Marge came to answer. She had strawberry blonde hair and green eyes set into an incredibly thin face. Her skin was reddened from crying but appeared dry, and Marge assumed that she must’ve wiped it off quickly before opening the door. When she saw Marge standing there she exhaled quickly, as if she had been holding her breath. Then she gave Marge a quick hug. Marge stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. It was sparse, as hospital rooms often are and the only pop of color came from the bright red hair of the boy tucked into the hospital bed’s white sheets. He obviously wasn’t feeling well but he grinned when he saw her. The boy’s naturally pale skin was dotted with freckles but today there were also a dusting of bright red, rashy dots visible on his face and his arms. It was consistent with what she and Jeff had suspected, but Marge still needed to be sure. She walked over to the bed, ducking to set her purse on the floor halfway beneath the bed so that Annabelle could come out to investigate without being seen.

Fairies were much more in tune with the Gaia than humans were and it allowed them to spot magical interference much better and more quickly. As long as Billy didn’t catch sight of her they were fine. Sue had met Annabelle plenty of times, being that she was an initiated witch and was familiar with such things. But Billy was only seven and still had six years to go before being initiated himself, so was prudent to keep such things hidden for now. It was customary for witches to raise their children to the age of thirteen without any knowledge of the magical side of life. Witches throughout history had discovered that children really weren’t very good at keeping secrets, and in order to protect their identities and their autonomy, the custom had arisen. By the time children became teenagers they were better able to understand the necessity of keeping certain things hidden from the average human, and by initiating them as young teenagers it also gave the witch parents five years in which to train them in the ways of their ancestors before they took off on their own. It was a good system and had worked well throughout the ages, but it did require a certain amount of finesse on the part of the elders.

With her purse positioned beneath the bed, Marge stood and smiled down at Billy. Then she reached over to pat his hand gently. “How are you feeling,” she asked quietly.

“Better now,” Billy responded, reaching a hand up to scratch at the rash that had formed on his face.

Sue moved in quickly and grabbed his hand in her own. “Don’t scratch at it,” she said crossly, her pale eyebrows drawn tightly together. “The more you mess with it, the worse it’ll be. I’ll see if I can find that ointment the nurse left for it.” She let go of his hand, giving him a stern look, and then turned to search the contents of the table beside the bed for the ointment.

Marge took the opportunity to scoot up closer to the bed again. She set the tin of cookies she’d brought from home on the bed beside Billy and nodded to him. “I brought you something that’ll help you feel a little better anyway,” she said. She pulled the top off of the tin and tilted it so that he could see the contents. “Peanut butter and sugar cookies,” she said with a smile. “I didn’t know which one’s you’d prefer, so I brought both. Always helps my kids to feel better anyway.” Billy glanced at his mom for permission and she nodded. He reached a small hand into the tin and brought out one of the peanut butter cookies. Then he set to unwrapping it.

With Billy otherwise occupied, Marge turned to Sue, who had found the ointment but was waiting for Billy to finish his cookie before applying it. “What exactly happened,” she asked, the lines around her blue eyes deepening with her concern. She tucked a stray curl behind an ear and waited for Sue’s response.

Sue sighed and set the ointment back on the table and then settled heavily into the chair beside it. She patted the seat beside her own in invitation to Marge. “Last night after dinner, Billy took ill,” she said worriedly. “He just suddenly got dizzy and nauseous and then next thing we knew he was vomiting. I would’ve thought it was just a stomach bug but his pupils were off and his skin was something else. We were afraid he had gotten into something he shouldn’t have and been poisoned.” She glanced worriedly at her son and then looked back at Marge. “After we brought him in we found out that several other children on our block came down with the exact same symptoms. Then this morning the rash appeared, and the fever. Now the doctors are thinking that it might be some kind of virus. I wonder though…,” she let her sentence trail off and glanced back at Billy.

Marge figured that she must be thinking the same thing that she was. If the children had had a run in with a Quepie it would have exactly these kind of results. Quepie were a magical type of creature, akin to the Kelpies of Scottish lore. Just like the Scottish creature, Quepies were horse shaped creatures that inhabited bodies of water and were known to lure children and young women into the water by appearing as harmless horses. Once the victim was seated on its back, the creature would secrete a sticky substance that effectively trapped the victim and prevented escape. Then the Kelpie or the Quepie would drag them into the water to drown and devour. The only difference between the American breed and the Scottish was that the Quepie’s secretions could also be poisonous, particularly to the young and vulnerable. If the Quepies had been spending a lot of time on the river bank and then then the children had walked over it, maybe even stopping to play on the bank, it was quite possible that the accumulation of secretions could have caused what had landed them in the hospital.

Marge nodded knowingly and gave Billy a sympathetic look. At least these things usually weren’t fatal. They could certainly be unpleasant, and the exposed skin might be tender and irritated for a bit, but as long as they were treated with a hefty dose of vitamin C and weren’t re-exposed to the Quepie secretions the symptoms would fade and they would be fine. It would be rounding up and removing the Quepie that would be the difficult part. She would have to enlist the help of a few of her fellow practitioners. She knew of a few young men who would most certainly be up to the task though.

“Now then,” Marge said, her look growing stern as she gazed at Billy. “Have you and your friends been playing often at the creek that runs out back of the house?”

Billy nodded, looking down at the cookie on his lap and picking idly at the crumbs. “Yes ma’am,” he responded. “We were just playing on the bank though.” His look grew stricken and he looked towards his mother. “Mama told me not to go into the water, but I thought the shore would be fine.”

Billy’s mom reached over and patted his arm, her expression concerned but not angry. “It’s okay,” she said soothingly. We don’t know for sure that it caused this, and either way, you did right sticking to the shore. It’s probably just a virus after all.” She reached up to smooth away the damp hair that clung to his brow. “I’m sure that it’ll get better in time anyway.” The boy smiled, relieved that she wasn’t angry with him.

“Why don’t you go ahead and apply that ointment,” Marge said, nodding towards the tube that rested on the table in between the chairs and the bed. “I don’t want to keep you from it anyway.” She waited until Billy had closed his eyes, his mother smoothing the soothing cream across his face; and then glanced under the bed. Annabelle sat perched atop her large purse and as soon as she noticed that she had Marge’s attention, she nodded her tiny head vigorously. So it was Quepies, Marge thought. The small fairy would’ve been able to catch their scent easily. At least they knew what needed to be done now and the boys could go ahead and round them up and remove the threat. And she would bake up a little something for the other children; to get their vitamin C levels up and get them on their way to recovery as well.

A knock sounded at the door and Marge looked questioningly at Sue. The woman nodded and Marge rose to answer the door. When it opened she saw Jude, a young man she knew well standing in the hallway. Just the man I needed to see, thought Marge; beckoning him in. Jude smiled when he saw her and stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. He gave Marge a quick hug and nodded at Sue, who was still applying the ointment to her son’s face. Jude was at least a head taller than Marge, but quite lean; the youthfullness not having left his face or his form yet even though he was in his early twenties. His thick black hair was shaggy and his face well tanned from the summer sun.

“Sue,” he asked in a voice that was surprisingly deep for his slender frame. “Is it okay if I bring Kojack in?” He gestured towards the open door and the hallway beyond. Sue smiled and nodded. She knew all about Jude’s german shepherd and had no objections. Jude was an interesting case of a witch and had been ever since his initiation to the Gaia. Although all witches who were freshly inducted were irresistible to magical creatures for a time, Jude’s appeal had hardly faded. Most witches connection with the Gaia tended to stabilize after a week or so. It was common practice for witches to take a week’s sabbatical from school and other activities following their induction at thirteen years of age. It gave them a little bit of time to come to grips with their new reality and also a chance to adjust to their new attachment to the magical realm. Oftentimes, animals and other magical creatures were incredibly attracted to newly minted witches and would flock to them for a time, until their magic had stabilized. On a rare occasion, some witches retained their insatiable appeal and had to undergo what the witches called a binding ceremony. If several months had passed after the new witch’s induction and their magic failed to stabilize then a group of elder witches would gather the necessary ingredients for the potion and call a ceremony for the night of a full moon.

The bindings were almost always successful, but in Jude’s case it hadn’t been. The elders had even conducted a second ceremony, but to no avail. Marge, a friend of Jude’s parents, was not particularly in tune with the live side of the Gaia but was an expert with potions and spells and had spent the years since Jude’s induction working and reworking a potion to keep the magical realm at bay so that the boy might live his life in the world unhindered. It helped quite a bit, but there were still occasions where the wild magics around him would flare and he had several times been swamped by hoards of wildlife. There was a particularly embarrassing incident when he had returned to school after his sabbatical and had been swamped on the baseball field by a pack of wild foxes. He and the other witches present had had a very difficult time trying to explain it away and shortly after he had adopted Kojack as his familiar. Kojack was a very large, extremely well trained german shepherd and was a great deterrent for errant wildlife. Jude had had him registered as a service dog so that he could take him around with him wherever he went; and that along with the potions Marge concocted for him allowed him to live relatively at peace with the magical realm and the human realm as well.

Reaching a hand out into the hallway, Jude gestured for the dog to follow him into the room. The large black and brown dog trotted happily into the room and dutifully settled in at his feet. When Billy heard the clack of toenails on linoleum he cracked his eyes open to peek and squealed with delight. His mother smoothed the last of the rash ointment into his skin and then went to wash her hands. “Oh, can I pet him please, please, please,” Billy said in a rush. He had never been introduced to Kojack before and was obviously charmed.

Jude smiled and reached down to ruffle his dog’s ears. “Sure, he said,” with a lopsided grin. Just be gentle with him please. He’s a very good dog, but he doesn’t take any flack from anyone.” He moved towards the bed, beckoning for Kojack to follow. Billy leaned out over the bed and held a hand out to the large dog, waiting for him to sniff it. Once the dog decided that he was friendly, Billy began petting him. With the boy distracted, Jude moved over to the chairs where Marge and Sue sat. He raised a thick black eyebrow at them in question and Marge nodded. “I spoke to Jeff just a little while ago,” Jude said carefully. “He filled me in on what might have happened here and suggested that I come by to visit.” He glanced back at the boy, noting that he was still occupied with the dog. “I think I can be of help here, if you’d like. I just need the address and location.”

Sue looked over at Marge and then nodded, realizing that Marge had already decided the outcome. Not being as active in the witch community or as attuned to the magic as some of the others, Sue deferred to Marge’s judgment easily. They had known each other for a long time and she trusted her. If Marge said it was a Quepie then it was a Quepie, and if she trusted Jude to get rid of it, then Sue did too. Nodding again, Sue reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper. She scrawled her address and the information about the creek that ran behind her house and then handed it to Jude, who quickly stuffed it into a pants pocket. Leaning over the bed, he ruffled Billy’s hair and gave him a few words of encouragement, then he grabbed Kojack’s leash and they headed towards the door. He pulled it open but then turned back towards Marge. “Dinner tonight,” he asked, a shaggy eyebrow raised in question. Marge looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded in agreement. “Okay,” Jude continued. “I’ll be there and I’ll have everything ready.”

That evening, Marge was just putting the finishing touches on her baked chicken when Jeff walked in the back door that led into the kitchen. She smiled with relief as he closed the door and removed his hat, setting it on the counter beside him. She was always glad when he made it home in one piece. Being the wife of a policeman wasn’t easy, even if he did have a bit of an advantage. He came up beside her and, resting his face in the crook between her shoulder and neck, peered at the food on the stove in front of them. Then he turned to kiss her cheek. “Smells wonderful,” he said softly. “How did I ever get lucky enough to find a woman like you, huh?”

Marge turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “I think we both did well in the arrangement,” she responded with a wry smile. Then she pulled back a bit and sighed. “I’m so glad you’re home. I was hoping you’d make it in time for dinner. Jude is on his way over with James and Maria. Brandon is home and is staying for dinner, but the other two are over at a friend’s house, so that we can have some time to go over things before tonight.” Brandon was Marge and Jeff’s oldest son. He was seventeen and had been a magical initiate for three years now, so Marge thought that it would be a good idea to include him in the discussion. Their twelve year old, Ricky would be initiated soon, but hadn’t been yet, so she had thought it prudent to make sure he had other plans for the evening. Cade, their nine year old was no where near the age of understanding, so she had made arrangements for him to be out of the house too.

Before they could finish their greeting the doorbell rang, and Jeff looked wistfully at his wife. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then shuffled towards the front door. The muffled sound of voices drifted in from the front room as Marge gathered all the fixings for dinner and began to carry them into the dining room. The table was already set, so all they needed now were the food and the guests. Once the Murphy’s were settled around the table Jeff went to the kitchen to bring in the chicken and Marge went to the stairs to call for Brandon. “Dinner,” she called, loudly enough to carry up the stairs. Momentarily, a large sandy haired boy, (almost a man now, she thought to herself wonderingly) appeared at the top of the stairs and then began tromping quickly down. He paused as he reached the bottom to give his mom a quick kiss on the cheek and then continued on into the dining room.

Bringing up the rear Marge followed him into the large, country style room. A large table, big enough to seat ten filled up about half of the room and the rest was decorated with an old painted oak china hutch, a coffee bar, a wine rack, and a low bench that lined the wall opposite where the table stood. Marge had a love for rooster decor and rustic wooden furniture and her style was reflected throughout the room.

Pulling back her chair, Marge joined the group that was already seated and greeted them all warmly. “Jeff, why don’t you go ahead and start serving the food while we go over things and then we can just enjoy our meal once we get business out of the way?” Jeff agreed and reached over to pat her hand, then he grabbed the chicken platter and began divvying it up onto each plate. He was a decorated police officer and used to being in charge for most things, but his wife was definitely the expert when it came to all things magical, so he didn’t mind her leading the discussion. Witch marriages were often this way, with one partner tending more to the human side of life with their career and their public persona, while the other one found a way to tend more to the magical side of things. With the recent popularity of stay at home dads the dynamics had changed quite a bit in many newer witch families, but over the course of history it had been quite common for the man to be the public face of the family while the woman ran the other side of things behind the scenes.

“Okay,” Marge said, clasping her hand in front of her as she looked around the table. Brandon and Jeff were seated to either side of her, while Jude and his family took up the other end of the table. There was also a small, doll sized plate set beside Marge’s on the table, and Annabelle sat daintily on the table cloth beside it. “Here’s what we know,” she continued. “There is a Quepie, or a group of them living in the creek that runs out back of the Miller’s place. Annabelle and I visited Billy in the hospital and she confirmed the magical signature. And the symptoms all line up with exposure to Quepie secretions.” She looked at her son Brandon to make sure he was tracking all this. This would be his first major encounter with magical creatures of this magnitude and she was hoping that his priori knowledge would be sufficient here. “The kids should all be just fine once the venom flushes from their systems, but we will need to get the Quepie removed from the area and also neutralize the surrounding area so that no one else will be exposed and harmed by the toxic secretions.” Her dinner cohorts nodded and murmured agreement. “Now I think Jude will be perfect for this, since he will most likely attract the Quepie so that it can be dealt with, and I think James and Brandon will be needed to help corral the thing, but Maria, I think you ought to sit this one out.”

Maria’s dark eyes flared and she uttered a quick protest in her soft Spanish accented voice. “But Marge,” she said almost sulkily, “I could be a huge help here too. I know that the boys are capable, but I really think that an extra set of hands might make the difference here.” Her wispy black hair fluttered around her face as it caught a draft from the fan and she reached a hand up to smooth it down.

“I understand, Maria,” Marge answered kindly. “But I really don’t think that this is the kind of operation that you’d need to be present for. The Quepie have a history of attempting to abduct young women, and while neither of us are as young as we used to be, I think that the men should probably handle this one. I’ll be sitting this out out as well.”

Maria glanced at her husband James, who nodded vigorously in agreement. “I agree with Marge,” he chimed in, running a hand along the top of his freshly shaven head. We’ll already have all the manpower we need to corral the Quepie and we don’t want to add any more risk than necessary.” His expression softened, crinkling the lines around his dark eyes. “Please,” he added softly.

Maria looked at Jude and then back at her husband. She sighed softly and then nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sure you guys can handle it. But keep me updated, ok.” We’ve already had a group of children sent to the hospital because of these things and I don’t want to add any of my family to it!” Her face darkened slightly and her thin, black eyebrows drew close together in worry.

“No worries, mom,” Jude interjected. “We know all about these things and shouldn’t have any problems relocating them. And I’ve got everything ready already. I promise we’ll be careful, and we’ll be finished in no time.” He smiled faintly at his mother and looked around the table, receiving nods of approval from the other dinner guests.

“Okay, well that’s settled then,” Marge declared happily, clapping her hands together. “As soon as the sun is down you guys can get this matter settled. But for now let’s put all this behind us and enjoy the rest of our meal.”