“What do you think?” Stasi stepped back from the large bay window to better study the display she’d designed for the upcoming holiday. She brushed her hands down her bold turquoise and black skirt that brushed her black high-heeled boots. A softer turquoise cowl neck sweater completed the look. She recently added gold highlights to her brown hair that was pulled back with a black band.
Isn’t It Romantic? was in stylized gold script lettering on the overhanging sign.
Blair also stepped back and peered at the black sheer nightgown with cobweb sleeves draped on a delicate hanger. An ebony glitter half mask was draped from invisible fingers, courtesy of Stasi’s magick, along with black marabou high heels slides. On the other side was a pumpkin orange silk bustier seeming to be slung over an ivory velvet bench. The small vanity table showed several romance novels and a crystal flacon of perfume. Orange gold and black sparkles danced in the display finishing what was a combination of saucy and elegant.
“It’s perfect,” Blair pronounced. “I hope you put away that nightgown for me.”
“And one for me.”
The two witches shared grins, aware their respective shapeshifter and wizard hotties wouldn’t probably allow them to wear the sexy gown for long.
Stasi moved a few steps to take a look at Blair’s display window. Blair’s love of retro showed strong in her shop, Blast From The Past. She use an old-fashioned fence for the background, putting up vintage pictures of black cats, witches against a full moon, and bubbling cauldrons. Dolls dressed in Halloween costumes filled the window along with a tiny red wagon loaded with teddy bears. A boy doll dressed as a ghost appeared to be pulling it.
“I can’t believe we’re doing it again,” Blair moaned. “Every year we tell them we won’t go with the usual Halloween crap.”
“And every year we give in to Agatha.” Stasi named the mayor’s wife who was a mighty force onto her own. “She’s even worse now that the elves are on her side. They volunteered to run around the town as goblins.”
Blair wrinkled her nose in distaste. “That just means they’ll revert back to their nasty original selves.”
The two witches returned to Stasi’s shop and walked in, immediately heading for the coffee pot in the back. Stasi poured them each a cup of aromatic chocolate cinnamon and brought out the plate of snickerdoodle cookies.
“Oh, good!” Now that food was available, Horace, Stasi’s pain in the butt gargoyle, swooped down to snatch up a treat. His horns practically rotated in orgasmic joy as he gobbled up his cookie.
“One,” Stasi warned him even as he snuck a second.
“Ouch!” Horace glared at Blair as he rubbed his scorched tail. She smiled back and as blew on her forefinger that she used to zap him.
“There you are!”
The witches closed their eyes and muttered a spell for patience as the mighty force known as Agatha Pierce rolled into the store. Her husband, Floyd, might be mayor, but it was common knowledge that it was Agatha that ruled the town.
The woman steamed in like a Sherman tank, her black wool suit sporting a large orange zircon pumpkin pin on the lapel. Chu-Chu, her bad-tempered golden-color Pekinese that resided in a large leather tote. The small dog popped his head over the top and lifted his lip at Horace who snarled back.
“Oh my!” Agatha stared at the gargoyle and moved back as if afraid he’d attack her. “Is that thing …?”
“Did it always …?” She rotated her finger in a silent question about Horace living and breathing and not a statue as he usually pretended to be when anyone else came into the boutique.
Agatha patted her beloved pet’s head. “Don’t worry, darling, Mumsie will protect you from that ugly thing,” she cooed.
“Who’re you calling ugly you --!” Horace knew when to quit when he saw Stasi starting to mouth a spell. “I’m gone.” And he was.
“Your book order came in, Agatha.” Stasi moved into the stock room and returned with a bag.
“Thank you, my dear.” She accepted the bag. “Just charge my credit card as always.”
Blair almost choked when she saw the note stapled to the bag before Agatha tore it off. It seemed the esteemed mayor’s wife was addicted to very racy novels. Who knew?
“I am so glad you are participating with our Halloween festivities this year,” Agatha almost gushed. “As always we’ll be having cemetery tours, ghost walks.”
“And won’t the ghosts love that,” Blair muttered.
“It’s not as if they’re real,” the woman insisted then faltered. Even after all this time, she was never sure if the two witches were teasing her or speaking the truth. To date, she never dared ask. “It’s for effect, you understand. The Ladies League met this afternoon and voted on adding a new feature to this year’s Halloween festivities.”
Stasi and Blair’s smiles froze.
“New feature?” Stasi finally found her tongue.
Agatha’s head bobbed up and down, almost dislodging the elaborate curls on her head.
“A play,” she announced.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Blair muttered under her breath, staring to step backwards but Stasi’s grip on her arm didn’t allow her to escape.
“Don’t make me freeze you,” Stasi said grimly.
“What kind of play?” Blair asked, already dreading the worst.
The woman’s smile didn’t falter as she looked from one to the other. “Our own version of Wizard of Oz. After all, we have our very own magickal residents, don’t we?” She patted Chu-Chu’s head as he continued to growl in Horace’s direction. “I thought that Stasi, you could ask your lovely young man to play the wizard, and Blair, wouldn’t Jake make an adorable Cowardly Lion?” She glanced at Horace who was glaring at the nasty tempered dog. “Does it get any taller? Perhaps as the Tin Man? And with you two being wi—“ she paused at the looks of horror on Stasi and Blair’s faces. “Well, being such an integral part of the community you’d wish to be a part of the play. And my own darling Chu-Chu could play Toto.” In response to his name the little darling passed noxious gas.
“Oh euww!” Horace held his nose.
“Agatha.” Blair took one step forward while Agatha wisely took two back. “There is no way Stasi will sport green skin and wear an ugly black gown.”
“Me? What about you wearing it?” Stasi turned on her friend. Her eyes glowed gold with anger.
Sparks of magick shot up over both witches.
Agatha’s eyes widened as she realized staying in the vicinity might not be a good idea. She started backing up even faster.
Just not fast enough.
“Out!” Blair ordered.
“And your little dog too,” Stasi added.
The mayor’s wife whirled around and ran for the door. She barely crossed the threshold when the two witches smiled and held out their hands.
“Ideas in play. Not good to say. Find out what it’s like to be witch for a day!”
A tornado of purple and pink sparks flew through the air and enveloped Agatha. Her screams were loud enough to shatter glass as she was swept up into the air. A few moments later she was gently deposited on the sidewalk.
Except now, her skin was a dark green, a hairy mole decorated her pointed chin and hawk like nose. Her black silk suit morphed into a gauzy gown along with pointy hat and old fashioned high button shoes. Even her designer bag had turned into a broom and Chu-Chu was now even ugily as a monkey flying around her head.
Agatha stared at them with her mouth open. Whatever she planned to say came out as a clichéd cackle. A flash of fury crossed her eyes as she stomped off, broom in hand.
Fellow shopkeepers appeared in the doorways to watch the show and tourists strolling the sidewalk seemed to think it was part of a Halloween show.
“Don’t worry, Agatha, it will be gone by morning!” Stasi called after her, laughter bubbling up.
The moral of the story is don’t assume a witch likes your ideas.