Moon Witch

The Call

Her phone is ringing. Four in the morning, sun still down, and her phone is ringing. She pulls herself out of sleep to answer it before it wakes Julien up, "Hello?" Maggie's voice is still groggy. She's understandably not fully awake yet. The line on the other end is silent, "Who is this?" More silence. Julien is awake now, sitting up in bed, curious as to what the hell is going on.

"Maggie? What time is it?" He asks. In the dark, Maggie can see his hair is standing up in wild cowlicks.

"Four in the morning. My phone was ringing, but there wasn't anyone on the other end," She ends the call, putting her phone on silent before putting it face down on the nightstand.

"Probably a telemarketer," Julien yawns behind his hand and then lies back down, pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Maybe. But it's still weird. Why wouldn't there be anyone on the other end?" She shoots a glance back at her phone, now dormant as far as she knows. Something isn't sitting right in her gut. She shivers.

"Don't worry about it, Beautiful. Go back to sleep," His hand is warm around her forearm.

"I want to know who it was," She says as she lies back down, curling up against Julien's warmth. She feels him press his lips against the back of her head.

"I'm telling you, it was probably nobody," He mumbles. But despite him being nonchalant, Maggie can't let herself fall back asleep. She grabs her phone again, illuminating the screen with the touch of the home button, and sees the same number has called back twice since she's hung up.

"What on earth...?" She mutters. Suddenly, her phone screen displays that she has a text message, the little red number staring at her. She opens it.

You shouldn't mess with traditions, Maggie. It reads. Maggie shivers. She's freezing now despite the warmth of her husband beside her.

Who is this? Is all she sends back. The three little typing dots appear, disappear, appear again.

Traditions shouldn't be broken. Maggie rolls her eyes.

Very funny, Elder Cybil. Are you sending these messages to everyone wishing to opt out this year? She locks her phone and puts it face down on her nightstand again, satisfied with her assumption that the strange number is Elder Cybil. She rolls over and snuggles up against Julien, finally able to let herself go back to sleep.

The next time she wakes up, Julien isn't beside her, and the smell of fresh coffee hits her nose. She stretches, her back popping painfully, before getting out of bed. She steps into her slippers and heads to the kitchen for breakfast, slipping her phone into the pocket of her pajama shorts.

She's greeted first by her familiar, the bird cawing and perching on her shoulder. Then by Julien, who has a cup of coffee (prepared the right way) and a plate of waffles in her hands before she can utter out a good morning.

"You were up late last night, I didn't think you'd be up before noon," Julien teases, sitting across from her at the table.

"I wasn't up that late. Last night was actually the first time in a long time I slept more than a handful of hours. Even during our road trip, I didn't sleep that much," She sips her coffee before putting a big forkful of waffle into her mouth.

"Fair point. Did you find out who that number is?" Julien takes a long gulp of his own coffee, wincing as he puts his cup down. He didn't wait for it to cool long enough.

"I haven't checked it today, but I'm pretty sure it's Elder Cybil messing with me. The number texted me last night telling me I should have left the tradition alone," She rolls her eyes and pulls her phone out of her pocket. Her heart drops when she sees the screen. Thirty-seven missed calls. Eighteen text messages. All of which say the same thing.