Witch Doctor

Bobby slumped in her seat beside Miguel, an overdramatic pout on her face. Iann had already filled her in on moon charms, that wasn’t what she wanted. She just wanted to be human again, get the hell out of this town and go back to her perfect little isolated life where she didn’t have to venture outside of her apartment for anything other than going to the dispensary. “Dude, this sucks.” She slumped all the way over now, onto Molly, wrapping up the dog in a full-body hug before she started to get wriggly, preferring freedom to a stranger smothering her. 

She snapped up, turning to Miguel again with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t believe that in thousands of years, no one has ever even tried to find a cure for this shit. You know what, if no one else is gonna do it, I am.” Bobby sat up, new energy invigorating her body. “I’d bet my life that I’m smarter than anyone else that’s tried.” And she kind of was betting her life.

“But um…yeah I might need those witches numbers to help. Just don’t send me to an idiot like this one, yeah?” Bobby paused, cocking her head. “What are you?” 

Miguel sighed. “I know. It’s a lot to get used to...” Molly squirmed away and rested her shoulder against his knees. He pat her head gently. 

The sheer stubbornness of Bob reminded Miguel a bit of Ciara too. There was something about being raised by strong women that had him seeking them out like a moth to a flame. “Right, well...” he pulled out his phone and brought up Ciara’s phone number. “Here text her.” He held the phone up, displaying the number to Bob. 

“Tell her Miguel sent you. That might help. Still she’s very no nonsense, and she charges reasonable fees.” The kind of thing that Ciara usually did required reasonable fees - you didn’t want to get someone who wasn’t serious asking for blood magic. “Start with her.” He pulled his phone back, looking at his witch group chat and going down the list. The rest of the witches he knew would be softer, less inclined to help until they made an emotional connection. 

“Molly and Miguel,” she tried out the names in her mouth, appreciating the alliteration. She liked B sounds, Benny, boobies, bobble, anything that sounded like her name. The narrowed look she gave Miguel, one of skepticism and distrust melted slightly. God, ever since this bite she was turning soft. “Did you name him Miguel so he would match your name? Hmm?” she asked Molly, currently drooling happily onto her lap.

“Call me Bob.” Generally, she didn’t like giving out her full name and if she was forced into it, she’d give an alias. It just made Bobby feel safer, like a security blanket draped around her shoulders, a just in case. Always keep your first name the same, though. A lie always worked better the closer it was to the truth. “So…you heard all of that, right?” There was no getting around it. Bobby was known to have a hot temper, but she usually kept her screaming matches private. “You know this guy?” she asked, jabbing her thumb at the bookstore behind her. “Supposedly this genius, new potions or whatever coming out of his ass, but he couldn’t help me so.” Bob shrugged. “Useless.” That was generally how Bobby classified people, useful or useless. Miguel had yet to find a place in her mind. “You know anyone better?”

Miguel nodded along to her question. The idea was close enough. Molly had her name before Miguel had his after-all. “Yeah, something like that.” He smiled a little as Molly nuzzled her lap and wagged her tail gently. 

“Yeah. A bit. I don’t know any witches that can cure lycanthropy, but I know a few that might be able to help depending on what you’re looking for. Full moon charms, things like that, to help the transition,” he was babbling just a tiny bit. 

“Whatever happened the last time I was your wingman?  Remember, when we went to that witch tournament thingie, you got the digits of like…three different people…”  Iann headed out, motioning to his van for their mode of transport.  He also wanted to see Miguel drunk tonight, curious about that same chaotic energy that Molly shied away from.

“God, that was so long ago,” Iann exhorted as they drove.  “That knife you got, remember?”  Didn’t Miguel use that with the whole purging of Malvoth from Ciara?  Iann exhaled, deciding not to remember all that right now.  They had enough fresh wounds to deal with.

Parking, Iann hopped out and motioned to the brightly lit, neon edifice of Pot of Gold, in all its trendy retro-ironic glory.  “If you don’t want to drink, I’m sure they got all sorts of magical, ah, enhancements.”

“I ... boned Dave and found out his power wasn’t luck. He had a kind of... shadow familiar?” Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed. “It would nudge things in the way that Dave wanted and people like luck witches more than demon tamers. Well not demon... deamon? It’s a spirit but not a...” Miguel waved his hands in Iann’s van trying to explain concepts that were hard to talk about. 

“Yeah I still have it. It’s useful. And I don’t even have to use it for... ya know. It can be easy as a kiss.” Though the kiss he was thinking about hadn’t been easy, by any stretch of the imagination. It had burned them both. 

Miguel hopped out when the van came to halt and looked up at the tall skinny building, it whispered of an urban appeal that Miguel had previously thought Soapberry was lacking in. The neon lights, not to mention all the baggy jeans and chunky sneakers and... Miguel didn’t know what the youth were into, because they were into the 80s. A time that Miguel knew he was alive for but didn’t remember much of. All that was left was an odd nostalgia when he looked at the Pot of Gold. 

“Huh. No I’ll. I’m good to drink now,” he said. He had missed it a bit. Though it was a good excuse to cutback, and he would try to self regulate tonight, he wouldn’t go overboard. 

When they made their way into the bar Miguel blinked at the makeshift stage, more neon lights, someone standing in front of a mic and pouring something that sounded like their heart in  poetry out into it. 

“I don’t own the hat,” Iann said, and if there was a wistful sigh to his voice, he didn’t realize it.  Maybe it was a little true, that Iann had a slight skew towards the whole idea of cowboying.  Not that he was any good on horseback, and the only cows he’d been close to were dead and/or supernatural, nor was he adept at anything to do with god’s country.  In a past life, perhaps.

Iann raised an eyebrow as he listened to everything that apparently Molly would say.  He pointed at the dog. 

 “Hunh.  You wanna bring her along as your wingman?  Truth be told you’ll probably have way more success with her than with me anyway.  If anything, I’m a detractor.  But a golden retriever who adores a shy pediatric doctor?  That’s hella hookup material.”

“Oh you need the hat.” Miguel put his hands on his hips and looked at the scruffy top of Iann’s sweet head. “I assumed you already had the hat.” Maybe he would get a cowboy hat and surprise Iann with it. 

“Uhhh, Molly you wanna...?” 

Molly rolled onto her back, closed her eyes, and waggled her legs in the air. “No, I don’t think she wants to go out tonight.” Sometimes Miguel drinking was too much emotional turmoil and chaotic energy for Molly to enjoy. Especially if he wasn’t doing it from the comfort of their own couch. 

The gaze she leveled at the stranger was skeptical at best before her eyes moved down and took in the pup that was currently fascinated with the smell of her shoelaces. That was when her expression relaxed and while the anger of moments before was still shooting through her, it slowed just a little as she reached down and offered her hand to the dog. 

“I am most decidedly not alright. Did you know that there’s no cure to lycanthropy? Because I didn’t.” Bobby’s voice was high, peppy and strained. She took the dogs head in her hands and started to scratch her cheeks and behind her ears, speaking to her in a baby voice that people normally reserved for the cutest of puppies, still with a tight quality to it. “Did you know that I can go feral and rip into you on the full moon? Yes, I can. Yes, I can! Whose a good puppy?”

Bobby upturned her eyes to meet the strangers look, she sighed and pursed her lips. “Don’t worry about it, man. I’m figuring it out. Cute dog. What’s their name?” 

Dogs could be therapy, and Molly plopped her head on the strangers lap and let herself be smooshed and pet and coddled. Miguel chanced sitting on the bench next to the blonde and pursed his lips. The sudden drop into the supernatural was always hard - not that Miguel could even understand it. He was born a witch. 

“Her name is Molly. I’m Miguel.” He sat quietly with her, shoulder to shoulder, not quite touching - and he thought desperately for something comforting to say. Maybe she didn’t want some shitty platitude from a perfect stranger but Miguel’s mind didn’t work that way. 

Iann grinned and waggled the belt buckle.  “Not big enough?  I got it from a big ol’ atronach visiting from Texas.  Big surprise there, Texas…”  Iann chuckled and smacked Miguel’s thick arm.  

“You’re looking good, love the jacket,” Iann said, acting as if he had any right to say anything about fashion (he had no right).  “Could those pants be any tighter?  Jesus, can you dance in those?  Because that’s all that’s gonna matter, brujito.  You’re gonna have to boogie to pull the hotties.”

He nodded at Molly, who seemed to stir.  “What do you think, Mols?”

Miguel stared for a second and pursed his lips. “I suppose it is big enough, but it needs more jade and turquoise if you’re gonna be a vaquero.” Miguel looked up at his big brother and grinned. 

“If Molly could talk she would say that I have fantastic legs and all the youth are into tight pants these days. She would also say I dance like a white boy, and then she would laugh.” He looked over at his dog and sighed a little. “Isn’t that right Molly?” 

Molly chortled, it was a scruffy not-quite-a-bark. And Miguel rolled his eyes. 

[TXT] damn right.  coddle some cutie and all that.  make it rain! 

[TXT] you didn’t get any silver after your birthday?  I think I got about ten more along my temples.

[TXT] cu soon

Iann went back to working, and then took a shower and let Ciara know he was taking his brother out on the town.  He dressed neatly but casually, dark clothes in the hopes that Miguel would choose something more noticeable.  

Maybe it was a weird way to cope, to play wingman for Miguel, but.  Honestly, Iann wasn’t sure what Miguel did to self-soothe.  Perhaps he had a hedonistic streak - tonight was the night Iann wanted to discover more about what made Miguel Reyes Ojeda tick. 

He headed over to Miguel’s, and let himself in, calling out,  “¡Oye!  Enough primping ‘mano, let’s see what you look like.”

Miguel came out of the bathroom and glanced at his brother. “Nice jacket.” Iann always reminded Miguel of someone who desperately wanted to be in a western. But alas. “All you need is a bigger belt buckle, cowboy.” 

The look that Miguel had cultivated was something he hoped would look smooth but keep him warm at the same time. He ambled out to the hallway and spun around slowly. “Does this meet your standards?” He kind of wanted to throw another sweater on over it. Or another pair of pants. Why was he so cold all the time? 

[TXT] I’m her favourite uncle because I didn’t give her any choice. 8D

[TXT] ajajaj ok well just sounds to me like you’re ready to scope out some sugarbaby, hermano

[TXT] hell no.  I’m coming over to your place to make sure you’re snazzily dressed.  then we’ll head over together.  I’ll see you at 8pm.

[txt] Oh dang you’re right. I’m a doctor. I could have a sugar baby :-0 I feel like I need more silver in my hair first tho. 

[TXT] ahh they’re gonna hear it all eventually anyway 8D.  Just kidding.

[TXT] There’s that new bar/nightclub in Pyewacket!  Pot of Gold? It’s all like…cool and youthful and hipster and rah-rah pride and free spirit kink-friendly consensual-heavy feel good stuff.   you dig on that kinda jive right?

[txt] :-P that’s why you’re Addie’s favorite uncle 

[txt] Rn I feel more like: ah my back, need some Epsom salt, those youth with their phones! ...but I do dig that kinda jive. 

SENT TEXT: Then I’ll be right over with Nila. See you soon, Miguel.

Tuah arrived with a bag of grocery and fresh flowers, Miguel’s present snugly kept inside his carrier bag and Nila on tow. He took a cab from the market to Miguel’s house, seeing that his car was still in his garage, nowhere near the car it used to be. 

He knocked on the door and greeted Miguel with a smile. “These are for you,” he gave him the fresh flowers. I wasn’t sure what to get you, and I didn’t want to come here empty-handed.”

While Miguel was waiting, he got the rest of the ingredients in order and measured out. He even preset the oven. All he would need to do was mix everything together and show Tuah how to shape the bread. It felt nice to be doing something for someone else again. Miguel desperately needed that in his life. It didn’t have to be healing the sick, it could be as simple as cooking for a friend, but he would never feel himself if he wasn’t doing it. 

Tuah arrived and Miguel was full of affection and a bit of melancholy. The image of a tall beautiful man with flowers at his door was so very wonderful. And Miguel wanted at least one beautiful person to keep coming back to his door, instead of the string of half-dates and one night stands that he had been subjecting himself to. But that wasn’t Tuah’s problem. 

Molly for her part, went wild to see her friend Nila. Her tail wagging looked like helicopter blades it went so fast and she ran back and forth across the apartment, always stopping at Tuah’s feet to do a play bow and bark at Nila. 

He grinned and smelled the flowers as he took them from Tuah. “They’re beautiful, thank you.” Miguel went back toward the kitchen to get something to put the flowers in, leading Tuah in as he went. “You didn’t have to bring anything though, you’re always welcome to show up empty handed.” The flowers quickly made their way into a tall glass of water and were placed on the dark wood table that straddled the line between being in the dinning room and being in the kitchen. 

As they went into the apartment, Molly grabbed one of her new toys and held it in front of Nila, trying to show off and share at the same time. 

The first sound that emanated out of the bookstore was of heavy boots stomping downstairs, then muffled shouting coming from two voices, one more masculine than the other. Something glass seemed to break after that before a blonde woman buzzing with an angry energy that could rival the rumblings of a volcano walked out of the storefront, slamming the door.

The final raucous sound was Bobby’s curse, shouted uselessly at the uncaring brick wall. “Well fuck you and your little dog too, you useless, sorry excuse for a witch!” Bob’s teeth were clenched, something in her that was new, angry and unrecognizable felt like it was trying to claw her way out of her chest and teeth, ripping her open in order to be free. Bobby ripped around, still snarling, looking a little feral and clutching the wrapped up bite on her arm. “What are you looking at?” She asked both no one and everyone before collapsing on a bench beside the useless witch’s storefront. 

Bobby still felt caged, contained and angry, but mostly hopeless. Her world changed in a night and it felt like she had stepped through the looking glass. She never liked Alice in Wonderland, thought she cried too much. Now Bobby could see the appeal. She looked up, catching the eye of a passerby.

Miguel had been trying to get off his ass more since the possession. And that meant walking aimlessly around town. Unready, or maybe unwilling, to start jogging again. At least he had Molly, and his canine familiar needed exercise. 

But being on the mean streets of this dumb magical town had it’s own ups and downs. Maybe they weren’t even ups and downs, maybe they were just... exciting evens. At least it wasn’t the spillover of a bar-fight this time. It was just one person looking exhausted and wounded (emotionally? physically?) sitting on a bench. 

Even in his current state, unable to use healing magic and equally exhausted, he had that unceasing urge to help people. Maybe the skinny blonde could see that in his warm brown eyes. 

[TXT] ding dong clueless huh.  never heard that one before

[TXT] do you want to hang out? maybe you want to go drinking.  or something else similarly self-destructive.  meaningless sex maybe? or a bout in the underground fighting ring?

[txt] I’ve been doing more pediatrics so I’m working on not cursing so much... 

[TXT] dude what you went through wouldn’t be considered within the general scope of ‘life’.  I’d like to believe even for a witch in a coven, this was highly unusual.

[TXT] do what you think is best. unless you don’t know what’s best, and then let me help you figure that out.

[TXT] lo siento mano. that sucks. anything you need?