NEVER TEST A WITCH -Flash Fiction

I see strange characters in my pawn shop, but nothing will top Malise.

She rummaged through every item on my shelf with this crazed look on her face, one of desperation and wildness.

“Is there anything in the back,” she asked after spending eight hours searching.

“Well, yeah, but I couldn’t allow you back there�"insurance reasons.”

“Hmmm,” she said in a high hum as her magenta nails scrapped across my counter.

“Well, that is misfortunate, misfortunate indeed.” She stared at me as if her eyes would turn me into stone. I fought the urge to look away.

Her fingers traced the teal snake amulet that hung from her neck. “How often do you put new stuff out?” Her words had a hiss to them that made my skin prickle.

“Daily, Mam.”

“Hmmm.”

“Is there something I can help you find?” I had asked her this about twenty times already.

“Perhaps.” She pulled a yellowed piece of parchment out of her skirt.

Candles

Incense

Brooms

Talisman

Charms

Rare books

“Okay,” I said. “I think you might be wasting your time at my shop. I might get in a few rare magazines and books, but I don’t usually take in the other things.”

The strange lady uncoiled her finger from her necklace and pointed it in my face.

“If you were to bring in any of these items, and I were to buy them, I would make it worth your while.”

“If anyone buys my items, it is worth my while.”

“Hmmm. Well, if you happened to have what I needed, then I would grant you one wish.” Had I just seen green vapor come from her eyes?

That night in the back, as I put my purchase from the day away, I went to my book section. Did I have a rare book? I searched through my collection and found a magazine called Witches’ Sorcery. I stumbled back when I saw the strange woman’s face on the front cover. Malise-The Head Witch of the Century was the title.

“I’ll be,” I said out loud. “She is the queen witch, and she has been coming to my shop. Should I be freaked or honored?”

A lady entered my shop the next day and plopped a broom on my counter. “How much?”

“I don’t buy garbage,” I said.

“This ain’t garbage. It is highly valuable.”

“Sure, lady…” My words stopped when I noticed a teal snake etched into the handle. I had seen that snake before, but where?

Malise! It was the one on her necklace.

“I would grant you one wish,” Malise’s words echoed in my mind.

“How much?”

The lady’s face softened. “Two hundred and twenty dollars.”

“Two hundred and twenty dollars for a junk broom,” I shouted.

“It’s worth far more than that.”

“I wouldn’t even give you a dollar for it.”

She picked up the broom in a huff. “Your loss.”

As she walked toward the door, the image of the green vapor in Malise’s eyes played in my head. What if she really could grant me a wish? I sure would like to retire.

“Okay, okay, wait. I’ll give you twenty dollars for it.”

The lady returned to my counter.

“Two hundred and nothing less.”

Against all business sense, I bought her broom. I wasn’t sure how long I would have to wait for Malise’s return, but she was there that night as if the broom had called to her.

“I have your broom,” I said, putting it on the counter as she walked in. She glided toward the counter, and her eyes lit up.

“How much?”

“Four hundred dollars.”

Without blinking an eye, she put four hundred dollars in my hands.

“You owe me a wish.”

“Hmmm, that I do. You can take the money or the wish.”

Even though I was probably losing the two hundred I spent on the broom, I took the chance. If Malise was considered the head witch, I didn’t want to let the opportunity go.

“Write your wish on my palm,” she said, handing me a wooden pen.

“$1,843,722. 51.”

“Oh, so you are testing me.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you weren’t testing me, you would have just asked for a million dollars. You made it specific. I am insulted you would test me like this. You will get your money, but now it will come at a cost to you.”

Doom from her words slammed into me. She grabbed her broom, and just before she left the door, she turned and said, “Never test a witch.”

I couldn’t shake the horrible feeling she had left me, and the phone rang in the middle of the night. I expected to hear Malise on the other end.

“Hello,” I said.

“Mr. Warner?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Fire Marshal Stephens. There was a gas explosion under your business, and your building is annihilated.”

Had the witch destroyed my pawn shop, or was that just bad luck?

The longest month passed as I waited for the insurance settlement.

“Yeah, you will be lucky to get one-fourth of what your place is worth,” my friends told me. How would I rebuild? How would I make my house mortgage?

Finally, the insurance adjuster met with me.

“We considered the value of your inventory and the price to rebuild. Here is the paperwork for your settlement. Just sign here, and you will have a check in a week.

I looked at the figure and felt my heart pound in my chest.

“$1,843,722. 51.” The exact amount I had wished for. But it came at the loss of my pawn shop. That pawn shop had been my dad’s. It had items in there I could never replace.

I heard Malise’s words in my head.

“Never test a witch.”