No doubt the neighbors hated it with a fearful passion.
Fearful because of the building’s single resident.
He sighed and turned his attention to the steps. Seagulls squawked along the stinking river behind him. Being a person of impressive girth, stairs in general were the bane of his existence. Every step was an invitation to a heart attack. And the higher the step, the more likely the possibility of coronary catastrophe.
He had spent a lot of time and effort building the walls of blubber around his heart. There were times he regretted it. Times when he thought of telling himself that he would cut out all the junk food. Eat carrots and grilled chicken. Exercise more.
But he quickly slapped that inner voice upside its spindly little head and stuffed it back in its whole wheat, fat free box.
Butter brickle ice cream and bacon cheeseburgers and all manner of fried food eased the ache in his soul. Briefly, but it was better than nothing.
It was worth it.
But it did make going up five flights of floors problematic. And potentially deadly.
Normally, he would have had to risk it if he wanted help from the Sapphire Witch. He would have used up some of his precious reserves to lighten his body and bounce up the stairs like the saddest Macy’s Day Parade balloon ever. But this time he had a good excuse.
His problem was stuck in the van.
He’d tried a couple simple spells to pry Larry out. But the ghost just shimmered and snapped back into the passenger seat.
Which sent Larry into wails of despair. Moaning that he would be trapped forever in a–no offense, friend Hilario–piece of poop automotive reject from the sixties.
Sometimes it was really hard to keep the promise to himself not to do bad things.
So now he had to somehow convince the Sapphire Witch to come down off her ridiculous gothic tower and crowbar a ghost out of an ancient Ford Econoline van.
Hopefully without destroying the van and banishing Larry into the dark realms of the unseen world.
All of which called for humility. Which was something he had found greater appreciation for the longer he managed to stay out of the bad places. Graciously asking for and receiving help was a skill that called for a purity of intent that would feel unnatural for those who came from the places he did.
But, as his boss in the coven had once told him, perhaps his ability to embrace gratitude and humility with an honest heart was one reason he had escaped.
Whether that was true or not, he had no idea. He’d would simply keep plugging along, trying to do the right thing in bad situations.
Like this one.
Slowly, he pulled his white gloves off. The chill river air made his bare skin tingle. That and the proximity to the unseen world.
He clasped his hands together. Bent his head. Said a simple incantation to open a sliver of his mind to the unseen world. Just a little bit. Enough to get the Sapphire Witch’s attention.
And not enough to intrude into her privacy. That would be bad.
He announced his presence with the equivalent of a psychic knock on the door. A light tap.
For his humility and discretion he was reward with a mind rending roar of flaming rage.
WHAT! WHO DARES TO DISTURB ME!
The seagulls along the shore erupted into flight. Flapping away in a thunderous beating of wings and high pitched squeals.
The ground shuddered under his feet. Behind him, the van’s springs creaked as it rocked.
Oh, good. She was in a mood.
He imagined himself mouse-sized, shivering in terror and supplication. Projected that image toward the Sapphire Witch’s domain.
It is I, Hilario. I come seeking your assistance o’ beautiful and mighty one.
The air went still. The gentle wash of water against the shore stopped. Even the dust motes dancing in the air seemed to freeze in place. The only thing he could hear was the massive thump of his own heart. For once he wished it would stop.
Oh. It’s you. Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?
Because the doorbell was at the top of those crumbling brick stairs and falling through places was a very real risk for someone of his size.
He kept his hands clasped and head bent. Humble was the word. And if humble didn’t do it, then he would have to use some precious reserves to get the doodlely poop out of there and to heck with Larry the freshly minted ghost.
Dear lady, I have a friend who is need of your mighty skills. And…he’s kind of stuck in my van. Could you possibly grant me a boon and help us. Down here?
The air crackled with electricity. Sparks ran over the brick steps and the metal railings. Hilario yelped and jumped back. Bright blue bolts shot out from the points of the iron gate covering the front door.
He stumbled and went down on his well padded butt. Years of getting chased and thrown by nasty things had taught him how to safely fall and roll. He was back up on one knee quicker than a man of his size should have been. He held his hands ready for casting, an incantation on his lips.
Which he quickly swallowed.
The Sapphire Which stood at the top of the steps. Sparks crackled down her black coat and popped off the ends of her fingers.
She made her way down the steps. Each movement was languid, fluid. Smooth and precise in the way a lion stalked its quivering prey. Her black leather coat reached down to mid thigh. Beneath the open front was a shirt of some dark blue shimmery material that circled close to her throat. Loose, black pants dove into black
