The Binding Witch and The Fortune Taker

A Little Healthy Competition

"It can't be that bad. What was the total today?" I asked.

Mom stomped around our trailer's little original mid-century modern kitchenette in the long velvet gown she wore as, 'Madame Clea' to tell fortunes. She made a funny contrast as she searched cabinet after cabinet for her favorite coffee cup. It was the splotchy watercolor one I made her when I was five. She won't drink coffee out of anything else and that still makes me feel special.

It was just me and Mom. I never knew my dad. He died of cancer shortly after I was born and Mom doesn't talk about him much. I know he was human and Irish, and his genes are responsible for my lack of magic, but I don't harbor any bad feelings towards him. I didn't miss him so much as the idea of a dad. It would be nice if Mom and I didn't have to do it all by ourselves.

Mom's quest for a cup grew a bit more vigorous than it needed to be to illustrate her frustration but, as we only had three kitchen cabinets, it was a short search. Mom pulled the prized mug out and poured herself some coffee. "Thirty dollars." She sank into a wooden chair painted avocado green and sighed. "I made thirty dollars."

Her cat familiar, Gringo, curled up in his favorite position, on her toes, and glared at me.

I've determined he pretty much hates me for no reason.

I glared back at him and sat down opposite her, in a bright yellow plastic chair. None of our furniture matches, but it's all of the same yellow-green color family, so it sort of coordinated in a kind of 1970s explosion.

"How is that possible? The first day of the festival you always make at least five hundred." I picked at a bubble that had formed in the Formica tabletop until the clear plastic ripped open. I shoved my finger inside the opening to feel the smooth surface.

"I know," she frowned. "Many more days like this and we won't be able to pay the bills."

Not that we had many since we lived out of a trailer, but there were things like food and gas and hook-up fees, our cell phone plan with a hotspot so Mom could receive calls from the Bindan and I could access a lot of data for my gaming obsession when we were between a hard-wired land line or trailer park wi-fi. Then there were the clothes I regularly grew out of to replace. So, I guess there were sort of a lot of bills.

I nodded and my attention drifted to things I could do to save money. Reduce my data plan? I shuddered at the thought. Aside from the few regular rennies I'm friends with, most of my friends were virtual and part of an extensive online gaming community.

Three hard knocks rang on the aluminum door. I craned my neck to look out the milky glass louvered windows and snorted when I saw two blond heads. "It's...uh, not our friends?"

"What?" Mom shot up and flung the door open in one fluid movement.

"What are you girls doing here?" Mom said. There was a hiss of disapproval in her voice. "You know you're not supposed to see us outside of the colony!"

"They barely see us inside the colony," I said, under my breath.

"Can we just come inside?" said a whiny voice. "I think we got whammied!"

Mom stepped back and held the door open. "Get in here before someone sees you."

Ella and Lily shuffled cautiously into the trailer. Their eyes raked over our crammed living space, with its mis-matched furnishings, in a way that silenced my normally smart mouth. I locked my mental walls in place, one by one, to block out any emotion from them. Whispers of yesterday's migraine still lingered in my head and I wasn't eager to jump-start a new wave of pain.