Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods

Chapter 3: Meeting the Witch

Why does Fiona frighten me so much, wondered Victor? Such a nice old lady, always keeps to herself and always wears a smile.

She looked different now. If she had an aura, he guessed it would be red. Victor studied her silvery, white hair—perfectly cropped—spiking from her high forehead like she had stuck her finger in an outlet. Her eyebrows were dark brown, and she wore subdued, deep red lipstick. A perfectly pressed purple suit clung to her body, and she sat straight and tall against the wooden chair.

"So, Fiona," said Victor—she looked deep into his eyes now—, "what can I do for you? I'm always ready if you need help."

"You feed the homeless, don't you, Victor?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, "once a week on Mondays."

"And you're working the harvest fair in October, and the winter parade in December?" said Fiona.

"Started last year, yes," he said, easing back into his chair, his hands fidgeting on the tabletop. "I've been helping with community events since I was young, dad always required it. Also, it looks good for college, I admit. I also work with Peak Hospice."

Victor always responded as though he were being interviewed, it's what he learned, and it was automatic, despite what he preferred to say.

Fiona studied his face. She wasn't one to be discrete, and she freely moved her—what Victor realized—clownish head from side to side. Her severely angular face shifted from thoughts racing through her mind. Her movements were like a marionette. Victor felt himself looking the direction she did, worried he had a stain, or spider, or something worse on his coat.

"I'm just checking you out, dearie," said Fiona. "You're nervous, I know. It's normal." She paused. "I see things you should know about, dear."

A smile passed Victor's lips. He hesitated, and blurted out, "What's this all about? Why do you care so much about me?"

"You're a good person Victor," she said in response. "You've got a good heart, a snappy brain in your head. Talent, lots of talent. However, I see you suffering."

Victor sat up, alarmed at her proclamation. His head thumped a little harder.

"I don't understand."

"You're all in a daze—you, and your friends over there. Something is coming, beyond anything you've ever expected."

She stared him down, placing her forearms on the table, and clenching her frail hands.

Maybe she's disturbed, he thought, scanning for a clear exit.

"Did someone put you up to this, ma'am?" he said in a raspy voice. He didn't know what else to say. An odd sense of glee, mixed with fear, overtook him, and his hands grew clammy with sweat.

"No, no, honey." She was determined to plead her case. She had his attention. "No one put me up to anything. I'm not just referring to you, but also that darling girl over there, sitting next to you,"—she pointed to Willow—, "and the other one, the dark-haired boy with the neatly pressed pants and dress shirt. Those two."

Victor looked past Fiona at Willow and Kane, both of whom stared back at him, looking perplexed. They could see the confusion in his eyes. They seemed equally confused. Willow pointed at her watch, motioning "time is up." Victor shrugged his shoulders and directed his thumb to the door behind him. Willow got the hint, whispered something to the others, and they all stood up and whisked past him in a flurry toward the entrance.

"The party, right man?" said Kane with exaggerated gestures. "Six sharp, you know, just down the road? Burgers, Lodi Dodi, fun?"

Kane winked at Victor. Willow blew Victor a kiss.