Hilda the wicked witch (8 page)

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Authors: Paul Kater

Tags: #fantasy, #humour, #magic

BOOK: Hilda the wicked witch
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"Okay, listen," the device said. "I am not
inside this telephone. I am far away, and I am using the telephone
to talk to Bert. Well, to you at the moment."

"You are using magic," Hilda stated, feeling
more and more inclined to retire the quill indefinitely.

William decided not to go into that discussion.
"Listen. There is a book I need. Someone wants to buy it, and I
know that Bert has it. I am sure that he's fine with it, that I
sell it for him. And we'll split the profits."

Hilda's eyes grew almost saucer-like. She knew
that she was far from being a good person, but taking prophets
apart was something even she would not dream of doing.

"The book," the demon device said to her before
she could respond, "is either on the table to the left of the sofa,
or on the shelf to the right of it." The voice went on describing
the book to her, and then asked if she could find it.

Hilda slowly moved away from the device, her
wand not wavering from it, her eyes on it as long as she could see
it. Then she stepped over Bert and found the book on the table, as
the demon had said. She picked it up and carried it to the device,
holding it up so the demon could see it. "I have it here," she
said, to make sure she was in the clear with the voice.

"Fabulous. Now, I guess it is rather quiet in
the store, so if you flip the sign on the door and bring it to me,
we're in business. I am at 349 Granby Drive, near the Pinewood
Turnpike. Do you know where that is? Bert's car usually is round
the back, the keys should either stick or else you find them in the
glove compartment."

Hilda reached for the crystal ball and placed it
next to the demon. Slowly she said: "349 Granby Drive, near the
Pinewood Turnpike", waving the wand over the ball in a complex
pattern.

"Ah, good. You're writing it down."

A small light happily danced inside the crystal
ball. It would be able to guide Hilda to the place that the demon
voice had dictated. "Yes. I can find it," she confirmed.

"Good. I suggest you take the phone with you, so
you can call me in case you get lost. I'll be waiting for you in
the coffeeshop across the street." The voice stopped, and the light
left the demon device.

Hilda looked at the thing, now dead as a stone.
She picked it up and shook it. Nothing happened. Hilda shrugged,
dropping it in her bag. The voice had said to take the demon device
along, so why not.

She looked at the book the demon device wanted
her to bring. It was large and heavy, too awkward to take along on
the broom. Shaking her head at Bert and seeing where not using
magic had gotten him, she shrunk the book and tucked that in the
shoulderbag as well. If the demon device used magic, she was at
liberty to do that also.

Then the wicked witch walked through the store,
the crystal ball in hand, to collect her broom. As she was going
there, she noticed the big book that she had dropped after whacking
Bert senseless with it. She picked it up and checked it, to make
sure it was not damaged. Carefully she put it on the table, picked
up her broom and left the store.

Hilda stepped into the alleyway, cast her spell
of invisibility and rose up into the sky. Once she was at an
altitude she thought safe, she dropped the spell and consulted the
crystal ball. The little dancing light pointed where she should go,
so she turned the broom and followed the indications of the small
guide in her hand.

The flight was not fast, as she had only one
hand to steer the broom, but after about fifteen minutes the sphere
already indicated that she should start her descent. Approaching
the ground, Hilda saw many places to touch down unnoticed, so there
was no need to hide her presence. She dropped down like a brick,
between two high buildings with no windows. Things were going well
for a change!

Hilda swooped the broom up just before the
bristles would brush the ground, a maneuver that she was good at
and enjoyed. Then the door was thrown open, some three feet in
front of her.

After the crash, the wicked witch found herself
sitting on the ground, staring at the door that slowly swung back
into its opening, as the little stars slowly dissipated from before
her eyes. Her face hurt, her knees hurt, but she did not care about
that. Her gaze dropped to the ground next to her and she got a
shock. Her broom had broken in two parts. The brush was cracked,
most bristles had fallen out. The plastic stick was flattened most
of the way.

"No," she whispered. "NO!"

Only then she heard the muffled sound from the
other side of the door. The door itself slowly swung open again,
and Hilda jumped to her feet, wand in her now free hand and ready
to strike.

A big bald man, holding his nose, was uttering
curses like a pirate. In short, the message that he wanted to relay
was that he wanted to know what blubbering idiot had slammed the
door into his face.

"It was you," said Hilda, her voice cold enough
to make ice crackle. Her dismay about losing the broom was evident.
"You opened the door."

"Yeah, I fucking well did, as I had to go
through it, dumb broad. Did you smash into it? Good. I hope you
hurt like fucking hell!" The bald man was not pleased.

"You broke my broom, you... you... ordinary!"
Hilda was close to fuming.

"So? You broke my fucking nose, bitch," the man
retorted, blood streaming from his fingers to make his take on this
even clearer.

"Oh, poor man, are you hurting?" Hilda's voice
changed to sugar-sweet. "Let me fix that for you, will you?" Her
eyes in slits, her wand directed at the man's broken nose, she
hissed: "Communtatus rana!"

The effect was instantaneous, and to Hilda's
delight.

The workman's clothes fell on top of the frog.
The animal croaked. It was not so delighted.

Hilda took a deep breath. Then she held out her
hand. "Veni cristallum." The crystal ball jumped up and landed in
her palm, after which she looked at it. She was not far from the
man she had to see. Worrying about the broom would not help now, so
she started walking.

Only several minutes later already she turned
into a street and a memory hit her. She had seen this street in the
ball, as she was asking it to show her where to go! The houses to
the left and right were there, the horseless carts were there. And
there, further down the road, was the cart that had the box with
the answer! Hilda ran towards the cart, but its doors were closed.
She peered through the windows, pressing her hands and nose against
them, but there was no sign of the box.

"Calm down, Grimhilda," she told herself. "This
place is getting to you, but you have come so close, don't lose
your grip now. The man is in a house of coffee, he said. Find the
house of coffee and you'll find the man." She slipped the crystal
ball in her bag where it was safe. A passer-by looked at the woman
who was talking to herself for a moment, shook his head and
continued on his way without a word. Which was the best thing he
could have done, and he didn't even know it.

As the voice from the demon device had said,
there was a coffeeshop across the street. Hilda stepped on the
asphalt, then stopped. She made sure none of the horseless carts
were approaching before she hurried to the other side.

A few ordinary people that were walking there
looked at her awkward behaviour but left her in peace, which was
exactly perfect for Hilda. Without hesitation she walked upto the
door of the coffeehouse and entered. As she did so, she inflated
the book and held it in her hand. She was quite certain the bookman
would recognise her through that.

William Connoley looked up as the woman with the
long grey braids walked in. He blinked a few times as he did not
trust his eyes. Had she really pulled that large book from her
shoulderbag just now? He got up and walked over to her.

Hilda saw the broadshouldered man walk up to
her. It had to be him. He had a friendly face.

"Hello, I am William Connoley. You are the
person I talked to on the phone?", the man said.

Hilda liked his voice. It was the same as the
one from demon device, only better sounding. Warm. She grabbed
inside her bag and took out the demon device. "This. Yes. You were
talking through it. Do you want it back?"

"Back?" William doubted if he should talk to her
much longer. "It is Bert's phone. He's the one who will want it
back. Just keep it with you until you see him again. Ehm, would you
like some coffee?"

"Coffee. Yes, I need some coffee," Hilda said,
pushing the large book in the salesman's hands.

It was the first sensible thing William had
heard from her. Relieved, he led her to his table and ordered
another round of coffee. As they were waiting for the order to
arrive, William looked at the book. "You did not wrap it..."

Hilda looked at the man, fire in her eyes. "You
wanted the book. I brought the book." What was he going on about?
She was, after all, a powerful witch, not a shop's wench.

William nodded, hoping she'd calm down again.
This woman obviously had a terribly short temper. "You got here
remarkably quickly," he said, "Bert's car usually does not go that
fast. Where is it anyway? The street's quite full."

Hilda shrugged and decided to wing this one. She
was tired from being on the run, and her patience was slowly
cracking up. "It broke when someone hit it with a door."

"It... broke?"

"Yes. In two pieces."

"Oh..." Something seemed to crawl down his spine
for a split second.

The waitress brought the coffee and was treated
to a nod from the witch.

William sat back and studied the strange woman
who was sipping the hot coffee. She was a very remarkable person,
he thought. Intriguing. Her behaviour, the haunted look in her
eyes, the way she spoke. As if she did not belong here.

"How was Bert when you last saw him?", he asked
Hilda, as the uncanny feeling that had gone through him lately
reared its tail again.

"He did not say much. He was knocked out."

"Strange. Only a few days ago I saw him and he
looked fine," William said.

Hilda shrugged and drained the last drops of
coffee from the cup. She felt more empowered again, better and
ready for anything. She turned towards William Connoley. "You have
something I need."

12. Going home

William looked at the woman. "I have
something..."

"Yes. Something that I need." Hilda was positive
and determined, and she radiated that. She also wanted it ten
minutes ago.

"And what might that be?" William Connoley was
paying full attention to her and confused as hell, but he was not
going to let her know that.

Hilda picked up the man's uncertainty as if he
was waving a banner. "I don't know. I'll recognise it when I see
it."

"Ah. And who told you this?" William was more
than curious to know how she could be so convinced, as he had never
seen her before. She hadn't even introduced herself to him yet. The
feeling licked his heels again.

"Nobody. But I am certain of this. I got your
name, and the - ehm - source is reliable." Hilda had to be very
careful now, not saying things that might chase away this
extraordinary ordinary man. This man, after all, was the key to her
return. Angering him could have the adverse effect, and she was
becoming desperate to get out of this world. The insanities were
stacking up against the walls of her awareness, and she was not
sure how much more of that she would be able to take. There had to
be a point where either the insanities themselves, or the walls
that they were leaning against would crash down upon her.

"I'll tell you something. I will go to my truck,
wrap up this book, and take it to the person who is buying it. You
sit tight and have another coffee. After the sale I come back here
and we'll talk about what you are looking for. I am very curious,
believe me." William smiled his most reassuring smile and patted
the woman on the hand. The feeling now not only licked his heels,
it was tugging at his hair also.

Hilda stared at the hand and fury was firing up
over this impudence. An ordinary was not to touch a witch - but
this was not your average ordinary human, she reminded herself, and
forced herself to calm down. She had to battle the pressure down,
but she managed it, be it just.

William sensed how Hilda tensed up and quickly
withdrew his hand. "I am sorry. It seems that touching makes you
feel uncomfortable."

"If it is okay with you," she said slowly,
swallowing and fighting for control, "I will go with you. I am
going to stay in the background. You will not have to worry about
me being there." Hilda was humiliating herself tremendously and she
knew it, but it was the only way.

William smiled. "Very well. You can come along
with me. And you can tell me about yourself, if you want. Your name
for instance." He reached for his wallet and put a few dollars on
the table, to pay for the coffee.

Hilda picked up one of the pieces of paper and
looked at it for a few moments. It was green. It had letters and
numbers on it, and the drawn picture of a person in awkward
clothes. With a shrug and an expression of not understanding on her
face she put it down.

"Is something wrong with it?", William
asked.

"No... no..." She shook her head, wondering why
he did not put copper or silver on the table. Hilda had no idea
that her actions made William more and more interested in her. The
weird feeling was by now enveloping him, giving him the sensation
that he was in the middle of a docile thundercloud.

"Right. Let's go then and wrap this beauty up."
He got to his feet, the large book in his hand and gestured to the
door, letting Hilda go first and making sure he did not touch her
again.

They left the coffeehouse, and as they were
crossing the street to get to the truck, the witch turned to
William. "You can call me... Hilda." She cringed on the inside. For
a witch, giving someone your name meant giving them control over
you.

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