The Magick Money Magnet
The Magick Money Magnet
By: Chris Crowder May 25, 2008
---1---
More than a week had passed since the funeral. Jack recalled his mother Darlene commenting on how peaceful Elizabeth Shockley looked lying there in her casket. "I never seen her look so beautiful in all of my life," had been the exact words from her mouth. In fact, everyone there had been astounded by mortician Edward Jones' handiwork. Not a soul in that funeral parlor would have guessed Elizabeth had suffered such a horrific fate. When they found her mangled naked body at the foot of her prized rose bush she was covered with blood, thorny branches, and oh, the terror that lingered in her eyes! That goliath bush that she--for no apparent reason--had been compelled to climb in middle of that...that bizarre night. Unspoken questions raveled the town's residents. Had she been mad? Possessed? By Satan?
Jack was standing in the entryway of Elizabeth Shockley's fine Victorian mansion. The mansion was situated in Shady Acres, a gated community in Billsville, North Carolina. His mind was still trying to comprehend the events that had transpired. Barely a week before Jack had not only attended, but had also been a pallbearer at the funeral of a woman he had never known. The day before the funeral he'd learned the deceased woman was his grandmother. All his life Jack had been led to believe his grandparents had succumbed to a bank explosion back in nineteen fifty-six. The day after Elizabeth's body was found, Officer Tina Manly discovered her last will and testament in the nightstand beside her bed. Jack was flummoxed as to how he resided in the same town as his grandmother, yet never knew she existed. How and, more importantly, why did his parents keep her a secret? In her will Elizabeth left the Shockley mansion and the two hundred acre farm to the town of Billsville. The contents of the house--furniture and personal belongings--were willed to her only daughter, Darlene Shockley Bottoms, Jack's mother. When Jack had confronted his mother she'd had nothing to say about Grandma Shockley. "Don't you ever mention that name in my presence again, young man!" she had exclaimed and stomped off.
It was only after questioning his father, Paul Bottoms, that he learned his mother had disowned her parents many years before. There had been a fight. After Darlene's father died it came out that Elizabeth had had an affair with another man while she was married and, well...there were questions as to who Darlene's real father was. Paul said, "Son, your mother can be a real... stubborn woman at times who refuses to believe anything outside the realm of her own ideas. When something brushes her the wrong way she goes on and on about it. You just don't know how bad it gets. Son, save me the heartache. I beg you. Do as she wishes. Never bring up the subject again."
Darlene was going from room to room in the house instructing a moving crew as to which items were to be put in which truck. There were two large trucks backed up in the front yard. One, a large box van, was devoted to carrying furniture and other valuables to the consignment shop to be sold. The other truck had a large dump bed and was destined for the Billsville city dump. The few things that she wanted to keep for herself she loaded into the back of her SUV. Paul followed Darlene around with his laptop, ascertaining the value of items on Ebay and cataloging the ones being shipped to the consignment store along with their guesstimated values.
Jack, curious about his grandmother, had been rummaging around the house hoping to learn more about her. He had already been through almost every drawer and cabinet in the house looking for photo albums, a family Bible--anything that would give clues about her life. At the same time Darlene and Paul were at the edge of screaming orgasms lusting over an old claw foot table and chairs, Jack found a stairway leading down to the basement.
The basement,or cellar as Elizabeth might have called it, was damp and musty. Aren't they all? A bright beam of sunlight gleamed down from an open hatch leading outdoors. The beam of light illuminated a large rectangle on the rock floor. A wheelbarrow containing a coiled up water hose was parked in the center of the rectangle of light. Through the hatch Jack could see the top of the huge rose bush in the front yard. The basement appeared to have been used as a storage area. Propped up against the wall in a corner was a shovel, a rake, and a few other implements of manual labor. In another corner two large pressure cookers sat on a folding card table. There were bunches of dried tobacco leaves tied to the rafters above the table. In the back wall was an alcove. Shelves covered with mason jars filled with food lined the sides of the alcove. "Nothing but useless junk down here," Jack thought. Just before he turned to go back upstairs it occurred to him that the geometry of the room didn't agree with the geometry of the house. That was when he noticed what appeared to be a curtain on the wall at the back of the alcove. Further investigation revealed that it was indeed a curtain and it was hanging from a rod. Behind the curtain was another room.
The room behind the curtain was dark--darker than dark. Jack slid open the curtain and felt around the wall just inside the entryway. His hand found a switch and toggled it. The room lit up by means of a single bluish colored light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The room was completely out of context with the rest of the house. He stood there for a long moment while trying to figure out what the room might have been used for. It didn't make any sense. The moment was broken by Darlene's voice yelling from the top of the stairs, "Jack!"... He toggled the room light off and replied... "Yeah?"
"Your daddy and I are going to carry a load of stuff over to the consignment store. Do you want to go?"
"Naaa, I'll just stay here."
"Ok...we'll bring back a bucket of chicken for lunch. Oh...keep your eyes open for some old jewelry. There should be a gold pocket watch that belonged to my granny here somewhere. It should have the name Devon Stought engraved in it."
"Okay, I'll keep my eyes open."
Once Jack heard the box van pull out of the driveway he toggled the light back on. On the room's walls were artistically painted trees. It looked like a forest. The ceiling was black and dotted with yellow stars and a smiling moon. The hardwood floor had an immaculate finish and was raised about six inches above the rock basement floor. In the center of the room was a table about two feet square standing about a foot tall. The table top was a thick slab of reddish-colored unfinished wood. Standing in the center of the table was a large brass candle holder with a horned goat design on each of its four sides. Also on the table was a black handled dagger, a varnished stick with unfamiliar characters burned into it, a silver bowl, and an archaic-looking, leatherbound book. The table was surrounded by a thick rope laid out in a perfect circle of about ten feet in diameter. Evenly spaced around the perimeter of the circle were four more brass candle holders. The candles in the holders had been burnt clean down to a nub as if they had been allowed to burn out on their own. Puddles of hardened wax surrounded the base of each candle holder. Lying on the floor just outside the rope circle was a nightgown, a bra, and a pair of granny panties.
Jack stepped inside the circle and kneeled before the small table. He picked up the old leatherbound book and opened it. "Elizabeth's Book Of Shadows" was written on the inside cover in large letters shaded in with a pencil. He sat down on the floor and started flipping through the book.
In the front of the book there were poems, or maybe they were song lyrics. Jack didn't know what he was looking at. He noticed that the "Lord and the Lady" were mentioned often so perhaps they were prayers. Further in the book were recipes. "Recipes that have been passed down for many generations," he thought. There was one for Anointing Oil--he wondered what that was used for--and another recipe for chamomile tea. He remembered his mother drinking chamomile tea whenever her anxiety was acting up. On the following page was a recipe for tobacco tea. Home remedies...they must have been home remedies. Jack studied the book with fascination. The book had an attraction to it that consumed his attention. Everything in the book was hand written and quite detailed. It was obvious that a great deal of time and effort had been put into the book. There were drawings of places and things. There was an elaborate drawing of a plant. Another drawing depicted a vicious cat, perhaps a panther, standing outside a rope circle. Jack flipped further through the book. Something fell out and onto the floor. It was a dried leaf, a fan leaf that he thought could be marijuana. He carefully placed the brittle leaf back into the book between the same pages it had fallen from.
On the following page was written "Magick" in big letters. While he skimmed through the remainder of the book it became clear what the book was about. "Witchcraft," he uttered. The remainder of the book contained spells and recipes for potions and incantations. "Elizabeth Shockley was a practicing witch," he said aloud. That realization gave him an eerie feeling. He no longer felt as if he were the only person in the room. He closed the book and rose to his feet. "Go...away..." a voice whispered--echoed--from all directions. Jack looked around. Nothing. The bluish light flickered as he heard a door slam shut. Laughter erupted upstairs. It was his mother and father, returning from their trip to the consignment store. He had become so engulfed in the book that he'd lost track of time.
"Can you believe the table and chairs have already sold!" Darlene exclaimed.
"Seventeen hundred smackaroos!"
"Do I see a big flat screen television in our future?"
"With that surround sound."
"God! John and Mandy are going to be so jealllll-ous! They'll die! HA HA!"
"We gotta host the Super Bowl party this year."
"Fucking A. We'll show them how to party."
"Jack... JACK! We got fried chicken, you better get it while it's hot!"
"Be there in a minute!" he replied.
Before going upstairs to eat, Jack smuggled the book out to his car through the basement door leading outside.
---2---
Late that night Jack sat alone in his apartment sifting through Elizabeth's Book of Shadows. The book covered in great detail how to perform rituals, cast spells, and other things he didn't understand. He wasn't one to let a little lack of understanding get in his way. His curiosity had gotten the best of him and he'd decided that he was going to perform a magick spell. "What can it hurt? This shit ain't real anyway," he assured himself. He scanned the back of the book for an interesting spell to cast. The problem Jack had with most of the spells was that they called for ingredients he'd never heard of and had no clue where he to locate them. "Just were do you find dragon's blood, anyway?" he mumbled. Finally, he came upon a page with a asterisk drawn in red pencil at the top followed by "Morning glory leaves work EXCELLENT!!!!" He remembered the morning glories overtaking the wrought iron fence surrounding Elizabeth's mansion. The spell was titled "The Money Magnet." It was a simple-looking spell with easy to come by ingredients that promised monetary gains. Jack always found himself having less money than he wanted. The spell went like this...
Under the light of a full moon cast a circle and summon the Lord and
the Lady. Give thanks and make offering of wine. Deposit thirteen leaves
of prolific vine in a pint mason jar. Next, deposit thirteen wheat
pennies and one magnet into the jar. Top the jar up to the rim with red
wine. Seal jar and recite the following incantation:
Make my money grow like vine
Let it flow, flow like wine
In my hands, for it is mine
For every dollar that is spent
Return it back for it is lent
For my presence I will accrue
Thirteen percent for which I'm due
Starting now on this cue
So Mote it be!
Before the rising sun bury the jar thirteen inches down on the East side
of a willow tree.
Jack thought for a moment, then recalled the huge old willow tree in the Billsville park on the bank of Lake Muckmire. "Perfect," he said aloud. He consulted an almanac calendar on the wall. The full moon had passed three days before. "Close enough." From his refrigerator he pulled a new bottle of Bohemian Highway pinot noir he'd been saving for a special occasion. He uncorked the bottle, took a swig, and proceeded to read a page in the book titled "Casting the Circle."
---3---
After two, maybe three, glasses of wine...who was counting anyway? Jack felt confident that he knew exactly what to do. Piece of cake. Armed with a flashlight, a Pizza Hut refrigerator magnet, thirteen wheat pennies from a pint jar in his kitchen cabinet, and his half-empty bottle of wine he headed over to his granny's mansion.
When he arrived at Shady Acres the gate was shut and locked, of course. He parked his car on the side of the road and took a big swig of wine. He studied the scene before him. All the lights were out in the houses of Shady Acres. "Sleeping like babies," he thought. Quietly, he got out of his car and walked around the entrance gate toting his supplies. While walking down the sidewalk, the thought occurred to him that a nonresident toting an open bottle of wine through Shady Acres would surely look suspicious. "Halfway there, no turning back." he whispered.
Jack arrived at the Shockley mansion unnoticed. No lights came on, and no dogs raised hell. By the moonlight he could tell the door leading down to the basement was still wide open. Before proceeding to the house he collected thirteen morning glory leaves from the wrought iron fence. No sooner than he had stepped into the basement he realized he'd forgotten something. "Damn it!" he exclaimed. "I forgot the fuckin' mason jar."
He shined his flashlight around the room. When the light illuminated the alcove lined with shelves of canned food he realized that his forgetfulness was no big deal. He walked into the alcove, opened a pint jar, and dumped its contents onto the floor. "That's disgusting!" Jack laughed, shining his light onto the red mess of pickled beets. He reached into the room at the end of the alcove and toggled the light switch. The room was illuminated with bluish light and was exactly how he'd left it earlier that day.
Jack entered the room and stood in the circle. He took a swig of wine and placed his things on the floor beside the table, which he'd learned from the Book of Shadows was called an altar. From the altar he grabbed the black handled dagger and walked around the inside of the circle, drawing an invisible line just above the rope laid out on the floor. He raised the dagger into the air and asked that the Lord and the Lady might join him for the spell he was about to cast. He poured some wine into the bowl on the altar, making the offering of wine as instructed in the spell. "Cheers to the Lord and the Lady," he said aloud. After a big swig of wine he sat down on the floor, then drank the wine offering from the bowl and commenced the spell. Into the jar he deposited thirteen morning glory leaves, followed by thirteen wheat pennies, then the Pizza Hut refrigerator magnet. He set the mason jar upon the altar, took a swig of wine and poured the rest of the wine into the mason jar. A scant tablespoon of wine was all that was left in the bottle. "Shit!" he shouted. Out of wine. What to do? He concentrated hard for a moment then busted out laughing. "I ain't outta wine," he declared. "I still gots all of its." He got on his knees before the altar, unzipped his pants and topped off the mason jar with hot piss, giggling the whole time. His bladder contained more than the jar could accommodate and hot piss overflowed all over the altar. When he was done he zipped up his pants, put the lid on the mason jar, then stood and sang the incantation to the Lord and the Lady. Well, he sang it the best he could recall and improvised the rest.
Make my money grow like... Like... vine, Grow money, Grow
Flow money, flow, like whhhhineeeee
Give it to me, it is mine. Yes it is...
More dollars for me, My money is miiinnneeeeee
Gimme back what I spent... thirteen percent
Thirteen percent, Lucky meeeeeeeeee.... Lucky me.
Do it now, be it mote, More money for me
Whew! This shit better work.
He left the room carrying his newly created money magnet--the mason jar full of magick--and his flashlight. On his way to the outside exit his flashlight shone on a short shovel propped up against the wall. "Oh yeah... I might need that." He grabbed the shovel and made the trip back to his car, then drove just down the street to Billsville Park.
The moon gave enough light to guide Jack to the old willow tree on the bank of Lake Muckmire. While checking his bearings, trying to figure out which way was east, he noticed a large "E" carved in the side of the tree. "No way," he laughed as he walked around the tree and saw three more carvings: "N," "W," and "S." He shrugged and proceeded to dig under the "E." The dirt was so easy to dig there was hardly a need for the shovel. About a foot down he hit something that sounded like glass. He dug around the item with his hands and wriggled out a pint mason jar. After wiping some of the dirt off, he could tell it was filled with a dark liquid. The lid was quite rusty. The jar made a rattling sound when he shook it. "That's fuckin' weird!" he whispered. "Could it be Granny's jar?" The thought made his skin crawl. He put the jar back in the hole and placed his own jar beside it. He shoveled the dirt back into the hole then relieved himself on the freshly packed dirt. After slinging the shovel as far as he could across the lake--splash--he headed back to his apartment. He got in bed and fell sound asleep.
---4---
Morning came much sooner than Jack wanted it to. His head was still buzzing. "What have I done?" he asked himself as disjointed images from the previous night's adventure came to mind. He shook his head and got ready for another day's work at the Cluck-N-Pluck chicken processing plant.
When he arrived at work he went straight to the break room. He deposited three quarters in the Coke machine and mashed the Coco-Cola Zero button. His ice-cold can of salvation appeared in the chute below. "Cha-chunk," "Cha-chunk," "Cha-chunk," "Cha-chunk," and the machine ejected some change. Jack took his drink and pulled three quarters and a dime from the change slot. "Eighty five cents?" The shift change whistle blew.
After work, Jack made his usual stop at The Gas-N-Lounge convenience store across from his apartment building. Mrs. Goodinworth--The Gas-N-Lounge clerk--was sitting behind the register. Mrs Goodinworth had been working afternoons at the Gas-N-Lounge for as long as he could remember. By day she was the Librarian at the Billsville Public Library. He guessed that Mrs. Goodinworth was nearly a hundred years old and looked every day of it. Jack grabbed a twelve pack of Natural Ice, his favorite evening beverage, from the cooler. He also picked up a frozen microwave Meatball with Brown Sauce dinner. He was ravenous because he'd had to work through his lunch break. The mechanical chicken separator had failed, causing Jack to get behind on his daily quota. The Cluck-N-Pluck pay scale was based on piece work. Jack placed the beer and frozen dinner on the checkout counter.
"Working late today, Jack?" asked Mrs Goodinworth with her prying eyes.
"The chicken separator jammed up."
"When my husband worked over there they cut up them birds by hand."
"When your husband worked there they hadn't invented chicken nuggets."
"Your total is $7.98."
Jack handed her a ten dollar bill, the only money left in his wallet. She handed him back his change and he stuffed it into the wallet.
"Now don't you drink all that at once." said Mrs. Goodinworth.
"I intend to."
Jack retired for the evening at his apartment.
The next day during his twenty-five minute lunch break Jack knew he only had two bucks left in his wallet. Fortunately, it was payday. He stood before the misery-go-round, the microwave sandwich machine. He had been pressing the advance button watching the carousel go round in hopes of finding the right sandwich to fill his stomach and fit his paltry budget. After careful consideration he chose a biscuit-sized hamburger for a dollar and fifty cents. The flat, round meat-like disk on a bun was wrapped in a cellophane wrapper, and labeled with an ingredient list two miles long. When he opened up his wallet to feed the machine his last two dollars he counted out exactly eleven bucks. "How can that be?" he thought. He pondered for a moment, then reconsidered his meal selection and opted for the two dollar and twenty-five cent barbecue riblet hoagie--officially known as "The Gristle Burger" by the break room patrons. He fed three dollars into the machine, opened the door, removed his mouth watering prize, and out the change slot came the jackpot--three dollars and thirty cents. He pocketed the change.
"Boy, none of these machines are working right lately," he thought.
He tossed his sandwich into the microwave, which was sitting on a stand right next to the sandwich machine. The misery-go-round's next client, Jack's supervisor, chose to partake of the bologna biscuit which cost a buck twenty-five. Jack observed as his supervisor deposited a single dollar bill into the machine then proceeded to insert a quarter. POP! The cellophane wrapper on Jack's gristle burger burst in the microwave, startling his supervisor and causing him to nearly drop his quarter. Jack smiled. When his supervisor retrieved his delicatessen no change was returned. "Hmmm... perhaps the machine doesn't mess up if you give it exact change?" he wondered. "Beeeep...beeep" went the microwave. Jack removed his sandwich and sat it on his customary break room table then walked over to the fountain drink machine. Large fountain drinks were an even dollar which was exactly what he inserted, a single dollar bill. The display read "Credit $1.00." He punched in twenty eight on the keypad for a Mountain Dew. The machine dispensed his drink and refunded him a dollar and fifteen cents. "Something ain't right," he thought to himself. He sat down at his table, ate his meal and pondered the situation. For a brief moment he considered the money magnet spell but dismissed it as impossible. Mechanical/electrical machines goof up from time to time, it's a fact of life. But two in the same day? During the same break?
After work Jack rode over to the Billsville Bank & Trust to cash his paycheck. Six-hundred sixty-nine dollars and ninety-six cents is what the check was for and that's exactly what he received from the bank teller. He counted it five times to be sure.
From the bank Jack made a beeline to his landlord Leroy Huckster's house to pay his rent. His apartment rent of three hundred dollars came due every two weeks. It used to be six hundred dollars a month until Mr. Huckster did the math and deduced that he would gain an extra month's rent per year by switching to the bi-weekly payment plan.
Leroy and his wife were sitting in their living room watching a talk show. Jack handed Leroy an envelope containing three hundred dollars. Leroy counted the money, got up and said, "I'll be right back," as he left the room. Jack stood there wondering why he said he would be right back. He felt obligated to wait for Leroy's return, since he might have something for Jack. New battery for the smoke detector, perhaps? Jack waited. Leroy's wife was so engulfed in the talk show Jack doubted she knew he was even there. There was a fat sixteen year old girl on the screen bawling her eyes out because her twenty-seven year old boyfriend, the love of her life, her one and only soul mate, her only reason to live, was caught engaging in mutual masturbation with her brother and her father while watching anime cartoons. "He was holding dad's thing," the girl gasped, streaks of eyeliner running down her face.
Leroy returned and handed Jack the same envelope he'd put the rent in. "Here's your change, see you in two weeks."
Jack almost said something, but didn't. Instead he said, "Thanks," and drove back to his apartment. As soon as he got in the door he opened the envelope. Three hundred and thirty-nine dollars. "It can't be!" He grabbed a calculator from his kitchen drawer. Three hundred, times thirteen percent. Thirty-nine dollars. He opened Elizabeth's Book of Shadows to the money magnet spell and read aloud. "For every dollar that is spent, Return it back for it is lent. For my presence I will accrue, Thirteen percent for which I'm due. Holy shit! It can't be true."
---5---
"Would you like to put this on your Sears card?" asked the cashier at Kmart.
"No thanks, I'll be paying cash," replied Jack.
"Would you like to donate a dollar to the March of Dimes?"
"Sure, make that twenty dollars...no...twenty-five!" he grinned.
"Sir, your total today will be six-hundred fifty-nine dollars and thirty-one cents."
He counted out six hundred and sixty dollars from his wallet and handed it to the cashier. She counted the money then punched the amount into the register. While she sorted the bills into their respective slots in the cash drawer Jack paid attention to the register's screen. It said, change due sixty nine cents. The cashier looked at the screen then counted out seven hundred forty-five dollars and some coins and handed them over.
"Have a good evening," she said as Jack stuffed the wad of money into his wallet.
"I intend to."
At first Jack was discriminate with his purchases. He feared that if he bought a lot of expensive, flashy things people would take notice. Then they'd start to ask questions, maybe even want in on the action. After a few days, greed took root in his brain and blossomed like a hungry venus flytrap. He had no comprehension of the forces that had brought him good will and fortune. Would his good fortune run out? Jack decided that he had better enjoy it while it lasted. He had better get it while the getting was good. So, that's what he did. He quit buying Natural Ice from the Gas-N-Lounge. Instead he bought the more expensive imported beers that didn't have the twist off caps. It wasn't that he liked the imported beers better. They cost more. The more money he spent the more money he made. It made no sense to buy less expensive items or even things that were on sale. He traded his diet of frozen dinners for hot platters at the Brown Barnacle, Billsville's finest fish house. During lunch at work he devoured the most expensive sandwiches from the misery-go-round. Jack was living it up. Even his twenty-three-year-old Ford Escort was living high on premium gasoline. It just did not pay to be cheap. He had beat the system. "The world is my lobster!" he proclaimed one night in a drunken stupor. He giggled profusely as he poured bottles of Samuel Adams down the drain to make room for Heineken in his fridge...his new stainless steel fridge designated for beer only.
Saturday afternoon there was a knock on his apartment door. It was his father, Paul.
"How ya doing son?" Paul asked as Jack opened the door. "I just thought I'd stop in and see ya. Haven't heard from ya in a while."
"Fine... I'm fine..come on in," replied Jack. It wasn't at all like his dad to come visiting without calling first.
Paul entered the house and glanced around the apartment. Jack wasn't sure if he was looking for something or just being nosy.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"Oh no. I can only stay a minute. I'm on my way to pick up your mama. We're going over to the Brown Barnacle to get some eats. Say...you ever eat there, son?"
"Yeah, I've been there a time or two. It's ok, I guess."
"A time or two? Someone told me they see you go in there every night."
"Well, a man has to eat."
"That's the most expensive restaurant in town, boy! You do still work at the Cluck-N-Pluck, don't ya?"
"Yeah..."
"You get a raise?"
"No...but..."
Paul turned to look at something. "God damn, boy! Where did you get that bodacious TV?" Paul walked over to the giant flat panel television. He turned back towards his son and noticed something else. "That couch is new too, isn't it? Naugahyde?"
"No Dad, it's leather. They were both on sale..."
"What else you got that's new in here?" Paul walked across the room to the bedroom door and looked in and laughed. "Waterbed? When did you get a waterbed, boy?"
"Last week..."
"Was it on sale, too? Ha ha...I had one of them back in seventy eight. Your mama and I had some good times on that bed," he sighed. "Boy, she used to be a wild one."
"Really?" Jack was hoping the subject of his newly acquired goods would be forgotten.
"That was before she found God." Paul hesitated. "Ha ha, after all them times lying on her back screaming God's name maybe he finally answered." He looked sharply at Jack. "Don't you dare tell your mama I said that."
Paul walked over to the couch and sat down. "Come over here, son." Jack approached his father and sat on the opposite end of the couch. Paul was staring at a plastic case sitting in the corner of the room. "Is that a chain saw?" he said, pointing at the case.
"Yeah. Why?"
"Boy! You live in an apartment. You have an asphalt yard. The closest thing you have to a tree is a telephone pole. Why in the hell do you need a chain saw?"
"Well...You never...."
Paul interrupted. "Okay. I'm going to be straight. Are you selling dope?"
"No. I'm not selling dope, Dad."
"Well, if you are...just between me and you I wouldn't mind scoring a joint or two. It's been years since I had a good smoke."
"Dad! Who do you think I am?"
"Look... I know you're up to something. The things I'm hearing and the things I'm seeing ain't agreeing with the lifestyle of a Cluck-N-Pluck machine operator."
"I've just been saving my money up. Honest!"
"A few months ago you begged me for forty-five bucks for a new alternator. You ain't bullshitting me, boy! I know where you came from."
Jack sat silently.
After a long moment Paul spoke, "Well, if you ain't going to talk now, you'll talk later. Things have a way of revealing themselves." Paul got up and walked toward the front door. "I'll be watching you," he said as he opened the door. Turning toward Jack he said, "This conversation doesn't leave this room." Jack nodded. Paul left.
Late that night Jack got to thinking. Thinking about the things his father had said. Specifically the way his lifestyle wasn't agreeing with his career as a machine operator. The proverbial fog dissipated, permitting the proverbial light to perpetuate. Jack had the power to change reality. The world was his lobster. He could have a new car. Any kind of car he wanted as long as he kept enough money to pay a month's payment. The thirteen percent monthly gains would cover the additional taxes and insurance that new cars demanded. Big thoughts led to bigger thoughts. If he bought a house--an expensive house--he could live off the thirteen percent. Jack could quit his job and do whatever he wanted to whenever he wanted to do it. He wondered how much the town was asking for his granny's mansion and estate. Visions of the things that could--would--be were melding in his mind. Jack knew that in order to pull it off he had lots of planning to do. He'd have to adapt to a politician's mindset. Believing is half the truth, the other half can be fabricated. On that thought he dozed off.
The next day he sat in the break room brainstorming, jotting down notes in a pocket notebook. Two men from the vending machine company were working on the sandwich machine and scratching their heads. "I can't find anything wrong with it," Jack overheard one of them say. It was the third time in two weeks the men had come to work on the vending machines.
---6---
After work Jack stopped by the Gas-N-Lounge to stock up on Heineken. Behind the register was a bald man, not Mrs. Goodinworth. He placed his beer on the counter and asked, "Is Mrs. Goodinworth okay?"
The bald man gave him a suspicious look then said, "Why do you want to know?"
"Mrs. Goodinworth has always been the cashier."
"Not anymore. I fired her."
"Fired? What did she do?"
"Stole money. That's what she did."
"I can't imagine her stealing money."
"Almost every day for the past couple of months her register has been short. Do you think she was giving the money away?"
Jack's heart sunk as he realized what had been happening. It was all his fault. He remembered what his father said about how things have a way of revealing themselves.
"Maybe she did it by accident. She is getting old and she has her disabled sister to look after."
"It's irrelevant. I can't have a cashier that can't keep the cash drawer straight."
Jack paid for his beer, took his change and retired to his apartment.
For about a week he maintained a low profile. He still felt bad about Mrs. Goodinworth losing her job. However, that wasn't the only incident keeping him down. On the day he went to pay his apartment rent, his landlord's wife answered the door. When Jack inquired she said, "Leroy? I kicked that hornswoggling, sorry son of a bitch out last week." His wife had somehow gotten the idea that Leroy had been squandering rent money on a "cheap, red-headed, homewrecking biker slut." Of course, Jack knew what had really happened to the rent money.
Friday morning, Jack was sitting in the break room at the Cluck-N-Pluck sipping on a complementary cup of ice water. In fact, everyone in the breakroom was sipping on a lousy cup of ice water. They had no other options. The vending machines were off and adorned with handwritten signs which read, "Out of Order." Jack had been thinking hard about his fortune and its wretched consequences. He wanted it to end. But how? He had stayed up half the night studying Elizabeth's Book of Shadows for some way to fix what he'd broken. Desperate and clueless, he decided that it was time to consult an expert in the field.
---7---
The sign on the front door read, "Madam Lesbianna - Palm Reader/Tarot Reader/Scrying. Cell phones and accessories sold here." Jack walked in and took a deep breath. "That's the raunchiest incense I ever smelled in my life," he thought,looking around the smoky room. A woman with long flowing gray hair approached him.
"Welcome...what can Madam Lesbianna do for you?"
"I need some help."
"You've come to the right place, my friend. Follow me."
Jack followed Lesbianna into a small room. They sat on opposite sides of a round table covered with a piece of black felt. In the center of the table sat a clear globe from a light fixture glued to an ornate dinner plate--Lesbianna's crystal ball.
"My minimum fee is twenty-five dollars, which I require up front."
Jack paid Lesbianna and began telling her about his problem. He told her about Elizabeth's Book of Shadows, and how he cast the money magnet spell.
"It worked?" Lesbianna looked astonished. "I mean...of course it did, my dear. Did you happen to bring this book with you?"
"No. I left it at home."
Jack continued and explained to her the trouble the spell had caused him and how he wanted to break the spell and return his life to normal. Lesbianna listened with intense interest and repeatedly expressed her desire see the Book of Shadows.
"If you can break this spell, you can have the damned book."
Lesbianna's eyes gleamed. "I shall gaze into the ball." She sat silent for what seemed like fifteen minutes gazing into the mystical light fixture. The only thing Jack saw in the ball was a dead fly lying upside down on the plate. "I understand your problem."
"What can I do?"
"There's a chance that you can undo the spell."
"A chance?"
"Black magick is hard to overcome. The forces that be don't play fair."
"Black magick?"
"Yes, my unwitting friend. There are two types of magick, White and Black. White magick is performed for the sake of good. Black magick is intended to harm. You cast a spell to achieve monetary gains. That's black magick."
"Why is that bad?"
"Your friend at the Gas-N-Lounge lost her job, didn't she?"
Jack nodded. Lesbianna continued. "You see. The universe has a mysterious way of giving when the need or desire arises. The universe also takes away. The powers that be granted you your wish for monetary gains. The problem is that the powers that be--the forces of nature--are not physical entities. They can influence but cannot work outside the realm of the natural world. The universe can bring rain to desperate crops, destroy cities, build islands, mountains...spread disease. They can even help moronic imbeciles get into the Oval Office. But...the universe cannot make money. Money doesn't grow on trees. In order for the universe to give money, it must take money. The law calls this stealing. The church calls stealing a sin. Stealing defies the Witches creed. Stealing is stealing."
"So how do I undo it?"
"Promise me that you will bring the Book of Shadows."
"If you get me out of this, it's yours."
"Okay."
On a piece of letterhead Lesbianna wrote out a reversing spell, folded it and handed it to Jack. She told him to perform the spell that night and reminded him again to bring that Book of Shadows. He took the paper and eagerly headed out the door. As he was leaving he heard Lesbianna shout, "You forgot your change!"
"Keep it!" he replied and kept going.
---8---
Once again Jack found himself in the mysterious room beneath his Granny's house. After putting new candles in all five candle holders, he lit them. He removed the black handled dagger from the altar and cast a circle just as he had when he performed the money magnet spell. Carefully, he followed Lesbianna's instructions to the letter. After invoking the Lord and the Lady he made an offering of wine. This time he only indulged in a single sip. Upon the altar sat a pint mason jar coated with dirt--the money magnet. Jack had dug it up earlier that day. The room gave Jack a creepy feeling. Part of him couldn't wait to get away from there. He knelt down before the altar and read the incantation that Lesbianna had given him.
Oh goddess of light, break this spell
Deliver me from this living hell
I have no excuse for my folly
I can only say that I am sorry
Sorry for everthing that I have took
I promise to deliver Lesbianna the book
May the forces of light overcome the night
I hereby declare my spell bankrupt tonight
Jack opened up the pint mason jar and dumped the contents upon the floor. "So mote it be." The bare bulb that hung above shattered raining glass down upon him. The only remaining light was the flicker of the candles. Was that breathing? Heavy breathing that didn't sound human? He looked around. Nothing. WAIT! In the corner of the room. Through the darkness the reflection of two eyes glowered back at him. Out stepped the beast. By the flickering candle light Jack realized he was staring at a cat. A big black cat. A black panther. The panther snarled at Jack, revealing its sharp fangs. At a slow pace the panther circled, staying just outside the rope circle. Jack watched in fear as the panther paced around and around him, pausing occasionally to snarl at him. Several minutes passed. The panther continued to circle. A few times the panther raised its paw and swatted in his direction. Not once did the panther cross the boundary of the rope circle. It was as if the circle were an invisible barrier the panther could not permeate. He felt like a mouse in backed into a corner. The panther knew that Jack belonged to it. Sooner or later he would have to come out of the circle...snack time.
Jack pleaded to Lord and the Lady for help. Prayed to God. Begged the cat to go away. Please? The cat continued to circle. More time passed. The panther seemed to grow impatient. "What do you want!" Jack screamed. The panther circled--didn't blink an eye. Jack picked up the dagger and pointed it at the cat. "Go away! Go.... AWAY!" The panther stopped, crouched down in a stance as if preparing to jump, and hissed. Jack stood up and brandished the dagger aggressively toward the panther. "Get out of here!" The panther backed up. Jack did it again.
The cat backed up some more. It seemed to fear the knife. Jack kept inching the panther back away from the circle toward the alcove. "Get back! Get back!" Jack had driven the panther back into the edge of the alcove when it stopped, crouched down, and just stared. For a moment the panther looked as if it were grinning. Jack looked down. He was outside the circle. He heard the panther growl as he tried to step back into the circle. It was too late. The panther was airborne. The next thing Jack knew he was falling backward--face to face with the panther. As Jack crashed into the floor he lost grip of the dagger. It slid across the floor and hit the back wall of the room.
Jack struggled to get up, expecting at any moment for the panther to attack again. When he got to his knees he saw the panther walking away, out through the alcove. "Read any good books lately... Jack?" spoke an old woman's voice from behind him. He jerked around. Elizabeth Shockley was standing behind him, her eyes like black mirrors. She was holding the dagger out in her hand. "Didn't your mama ever teach you not to bite the hand that feeds you?" She thrashed the dagger toward Jack. He backed up and fell over the altar, knocking the burning candle onto the floor.
"You ungrateful son of a BITCH!" Elizabeth spat at Jack and kicked him in the stomach. The rope had caught fire and the fire was spreading. "Don't be a fool, Jack. DON'T BE A GODDAMN FOOL!" Elizabeth screamed. "Get out! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" She pointed the dagger in the direction of the alcove. Jack rolled over, got up and ran. Ran though the alcove. Ran up the stairs. Ran across the yard. He didn't stop running until he was outside the entry gate to Shady Acres. He got in his car and cranked it. Before turning around and speeding away, he saw flames flicking in the windows of Elizabeth's mansion.
---9---
Despite the efforts of the Billsville Fire Department, the mansion burned to the ground. Needless to say, Jack was deeply disturbed by his experience. He didn't sleep that night. In fact, he didn't even get in the bed. He had no idea whether Lesbianna's reversing spell had been effective. He was just happy to be at home alive--away from his dead granny and her conniving cat friend. Saturday he stayed home arguing with himself over whether or not it had really happened. It had to have been a dream, a figment of his imagination. Saturday evening he drank beer until he passed out.
Sunday morning Jack found his way to a place he had never been before...Billsville's Second Baptist Church. Church seemed like a good idea and a safe place out of evil's reach. Praying in the house of the Lord for protection from those things he didn't understand surely could not hurt. By eleven o'clock the small sanctuary was full of smiling, neatly groomed people. When the reverend entered, the sanctuary grew silent. The reverend seated himself on the front row. The deacon walked up to the podium and talked into the microphone.
"Thank you all for worshipping with us today. I have some good news this week. Our good Lord has graciously granted Mrs. Goodinworth another year. On Thursday she celebrated her one hundred and sixth birthday. To those of you who don't know Mrs. Goodinworth, she has been the librarian at the Billsville Public Library for over seventy years and just last week retired as the cashier from the Gas-N-Lounge convenience store. Congratulations, Mrs Goodinworth! We know that you will live to see many more birthdays. Would you please stand up for us, Mrs. Goodinworth?"
Mrs. Goodinworth stood up and everyone in the church applauded. During the applause Jack caught the reverend pointing at Jack while talking to the man beside him.
"Praise Jesus!" "Thank the Lord!" and "Amen!" was shouted throughout the sanctuary. Mrs. Goodinworth grinned wide, showing off her perfect dentures, waved at everyone, then sat back down. Jack noticed that the reverend was still staring. He had a grimacing look that Jack found disturbing. When the applause died the deacon continued.
"I hope you'll all attend our fifth annual Homeward Bound festival at Lake Muckmire this coming Saturday at three o'clock P.M. There will be live music and buckets of fried chicken. Don't forget your walking shoes, insect repellant, and sunscreen for the 'Walk down the narrow path' ceremony. And that's about all I have for this week's announcements. I will now turn the podium over to Reverend Jacov Kirzner."
Reverend Kirzner got up from his pew and approached the podium while the deacon seated himself. The reverend cleared his throat. A tear was running down his cheek. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am delighted to be here worshipping with you all today. Let us pray." Everyone stood up. "Dear Lord, we thank you for bringing us all together on this beautiful morning that you so graciously have given to us. Guide us, Lord. Guide us on this day to the path of glory and salvation. Protect us, Lord. Protect us from evil and help us to resist the temptations that besiege us. We ask that you grant us the bread of life. God bless us all...Amen."
"Amen," echoed throughout the sanctuary and the congregation sat down.
Two ushers got up and started passing silver plated collection plates down the pews. Jack had come prepared for this moment. Earlier, he'd put all of his ill-gotten cash in an envelope. Once a collection plate leeched its way to Jack he dropped the bulging envelope upon it with a sigh of relief. "Good riddance. It's in the Lord's hands now."
While the collection plates continued their journeys the reverend announced, "I would like to remind everyone that you can also pledge tithes online via Paypal anytime day or night. Whenever the urge hits you. Paypal is safe and secure. Remember. In these loathsome times God needs your money more than ever before. Everyone who pledges fifty dollars or more online will receive a link to download a free e-tract. The e-tract is printable. Share it with your friends, family or stuff copies into beer boxes wherever liquid sin is sold. Pledging online is a great way to show your love for our Lord. As an added bonus we get to download gospel teachings from our Lord and saviour Jesus Christ. Remember, the word of God is priceless. To make your pledge, visit our web site at dubbya dubbya dubbya... dot... billsvillesecondbaptistchurchofficialwebsiteonline... dot... com."
Once everyone had a turn contributing to a collection plate the ushers delivered them to the front of the sanctuary. Reverend Kirzner motioned for the ushers to approach the podium. He whispered something to each of them and motioned for them to be seated. As the ushers walked to their seats they exchanged confused looks and made glances in an upward direction around the sanctuary as if they were looking for something. Jack thought that perhaps a bird had flown into the sanctuary.
Jacov Kirzner began his sermon, "For today I had prepared a sermon on how the immoralities of the internet is corrupting Christianity. However, I will not preach on that subject today. When I stepped into this sanctuary less than an hour ago, I felt a presence. A presence that is not at all unfamiliar to me. In fact it's second nature. The presence spoke to me. The presence is the LORD! God is here with us today!" A low chatter of voices came from the congregation. Everyone glanced around the sanctuary in an upward direction. Reverend Kirzner gleamed, "We can't see him, for the Lord has taken an invisible form. I am humbled by your presence, Lord. Thank you Lord... God bless you... God spoke to me. God told me that in this very congregation is a troubled soul. A young man who has entered the House of God for the first time in his life. For the first time... in his life. The Lord commanded me to help this troubled soul for he has suffered a great loss. No... two great losses!" The reverend pointed at Jack, "Jack Bottoms, would you please stand." Jack stared at the reverend in disbelief. "It's okay, Jack. The Lord has a gift for you." Jack, confused, befuddled and discombobulated, stood. The entire congregation gazed upon Jack--the chosen one--in anticipation of the gospel for which he was about to receive. "All of us share your anguish over the loss of your grandmother Elizabeth Shockley. Her horrific death was a shock to us all. She was a good woman with a heart of gold. Loved by all. I understand that fire devoured Elizabeth's home over in Shady Acres the other night." Jack nodded. The reverend continued, "Tragic. The work of Satan, no doubt. Well. The Lord has a gift for you, my son. A gift to help you in your time of torment. In the name of God our Lord and our Saviour I present to you today's tithes to help you and your family endure these troubled times. God bless you my son!" One of the ushers presented Jack with a bag containing the money from the collection plates. The congregation exploded with cheers and praises under the grace of thy Lord!
---10--
Everyone who attended Billsville's Second Baptist Church that Sunday morning regards that service as being a cornerstone in their lives. The choir sang in rare form with unexceeded spiritual energy. The Lord's joy rained upon the congregation and washed away their sins, pains, and troubles. I can't fathom what it must have been like to be right there in the presence of the Lord. Reverend Jacov Kirzner considers the day the highlight of his career. He speaks often of it. "Every one of us was three sheets in the wind, and not a single drop of alcohol flowed. We were stoned on God's salvation. The congregation was on its knees, crying, praying... removing their clothing--releasing their sins. At one point the entire congregation sung together in tongues--oh what a gay melody it was. On that magnificent day we all toked on God's green gift! Not only was the experience beautiful, spiritual, and liberating... It was orgasmic!"
What happend to Jack? When he got home he counted the money given to him by the church. The amount was exactly what he tithed plus thirteen percent. No one is sure what happened to Jack after that. The last person who saw him was old Joe Snider, the town drunk. Down by the old railroad station he claimed he saw Jack jump aboard a box car on a southbound train.
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