The combination of the magic circle I drew in my living room, the witch bottle I buried in that front corner of the lawn before my apartment building (still safely there, not dug out or anything), and the amulet I’m wearing and the sachet I have on me everywhere I go means Mama’s ghost can’t do anything to me directly with her magic.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t harm me indirectly.

Her magic can still negatively affect the world I live in. I noticed a way she could affect my life when I read the newspaper this morning. Not only is the world economy in the worst state I’ve ever known it to be in, for my whole life, but the US dollar is quickly losing value thanks to so may countries no longer trading in it, which will affect the economy here and thus affect my own purchasing power.

On top of all of this, tensions between the Western countries on one side, and Russia and China on the other side, mean we’re all coming closer and closer not only to World War Three, but also to nuclear war.

I’m sure Mama’s ghost is behind all of this trouble!

How can I make such an extravagant claim so confidently? As I have been walking to work today, I’ve been able to see, farther off past the tall buildings of the city, gigantic, brightly-coloured mushrooms towering above the cityscape and reaching for the sky! No, I don’t think they’re literally there: they’re a message from Mama, symbolizing the mushroom clouds of nuclear bombs. She’s warning me of what’s soon to come.

I decided to finish my shift first before going to the library and finding more magic books to learn of more ways to stop Mama’s magic. Aunt Jane was really mad at me yesterday for being late for my shift because of my detour to the occult store. She said that if I ever did that again, she’d immediately bring that man, “my father,” to my apartment and force me to meet him! (She knows that I don’t care if she fires me, but that being forced to meet him is unbearable to me.)

I’ve just walked into the store, and I see Aunt Jane at the cash register. She is scowling at me. I know it’s because of the amulet necklace I have on, and the bulge in my Pet Valu shirt breast pocket, where I keep the sachet. This, of course, is Mama’s doing, an attempt to get me to remove them from my person. Aunt Jane objected to them yesterday, too. It didn’t dissuade me from wearing them then, and it won’t dissuade me today.

“Oh, I do wish you’d get rid of those silly things,” she groans at me. “They don’t go with your uniform.”

“Uniform?” I say. “It’s just a shirt.”

“I mean that they take away from the uniformity of your look as a Pet Valu employee,” she says with an impatient sigh. “I’m wearing the shirt, too, but I have no necklace distracting people from it, and no bulge in my pocket distracting people from it, either.”

“If you don’t like them so much, then fire me.”

“In this shrinking economy, with the falling value of the dollar, your mom’s inheritance money might not last that long.”

“I’ll figure out a way to keep going.”

“Then I’ll bring your father over to your home to meet you.”

“You do that, and I’ll quit immediately!”

“Oh, just get back there, punch in, and take over here at the cash register,” she hisses. “I have work I need to do at the back. Hurry up. Impossible kid.”

There she goes again: “Impossible kid.” Just like Mama used to call me. I swear, her ghost is possessing Aunt Jane’s body, trying to get me to get rid of my amulet and sachet. Her reference to the worsening economy is further proof that Mama’s behind it: the news only just came out in today’s paper: she’d hardly have had time to read about it.

I won’t be surprised if Aunt Jane later on today says something about nuclear war.

OK, I’ve punched in, and I’m on my way back to the cash register; but my amulet and sachet are staying right where they’re supposed to be. I don’t want to see anything at all surreal while I have to work. I don’t think Aunt Jane will appreciate me freaking out in front of our customers if I see animal heads on them.

I’ve been standing at this cash register for hours now, and not one customer has walked through the door. Previously, at least a few would have come in by now.

Bad economy…it’s all Mama’s doing.

It’s a good thing I have a chair here, otherwise, my legs would be in agony by now.

What’s that? Out the window, I’m seeing flashes of light that shouldn’t be there. They look like explosions from far off. I’m sure they’re not really there–just like the giant, towering mushrooms I saw on the way here–but just more of Mama’s ghost warning me of what’s to come in the not-all-that-distant future.

This is the best she can do to trouble me.

This is why I must keep my amulet and sachet with me.

And this is why I must go right to the library after work.

I just hope I can find some powerful spells and rituals to keep her not only from affecting our lives on Earth, but also to keep her soul trapped in Hell…where it belongs.

Aunt Jane just came up from the back. She’s looking around the empty store with wide eyes.

“We still don’t have any customers?” she asks. “We haven’t had one all day. Surely the economy isn’t that bad, is it? Seriously, it’s as if the whole world was wiped out with nuclear weapons, and you and I are the only people left on Earth.”

I told you she’d mention nuclear war. Mama’s ghost is possessing Aunt Jane, for sure.

**************

Well, I’ve finished my shift, and I’m on my way to the library. I can see those huge mushrooms towering in the background, behind the tallest of buildings again. Those flashes of light keep popping up in the sky, too. Oh, yeah, Mama’s influence is still being felt in the world, even if it isn’t directly touching me…yet.

Oh, God! There’s that man again, across the street, looking at me and hoping to get my attention. At least he has his human head, thanks to my amulet and sachet. Oh, please don’t follow me into the library! I’m going in there to read, not have a whispered conversation with a total stranger about his nonsensical fantasies of being my father.

I’ve entered the library, and thank God, he didn’t follow me here. Now I’ll just have to get to the occult section and hope I find something–an incantation, a spell, a ritual–that will put Mama in Hell and keep her imprisoned in there, never able to bother me or anyone else on Earth ever again.

Here we are. I’ll just look at all of the book spines on these shelves here until I find a title that looks as if it will cater to my needs.

Hmm…I read those books the last time, useless. Oh, and these here gave me the ideas for the magic circle, the witch bottle, the amulet, and the sachet…and…no, that doesn’t look helpful…nor that…nor that…and on the next shelf,…

Hey, what’s this? How to Banish Evil Spirits Forever. That looks good–I’ll take that one out. And hey, what’s this over here? Send the Devils Back to Hell. I’ll look at this one, too.

At a table here, I’ve been flipping through the pages of these two books for the past fifteen to twenty minutes, and having found a chant from the first book I found, I haven’t yet found something suitable from the second one. What’s in this chapter…? Hey, this might work!

Like the chant in the first book, this one is in another of those ancient, mystical languages. The English translation suggests that this is a good one:

Whoever troubles you the most in life,
Be that soul I, or you, or he, or she,
May these words trap him in eternal strife,
Imprisoned in a hell of misery.

That looks perfect for Mama’s ghost! The pronunciation of the words of the original language seems easy enough; there’s no pronunciation guide anywhere in the book for the language, so I guess that means it’s easy enough to say correctly. The same is true for the language of the chant in the first book. These two seem to be just what I need to prevent Mama from getting into any more mischief. My actions tonight will save not only myself, but the rest of the world, too.

That will make me a hero…if only the world knew.

***************

On my way home now, I’m seeing more flashing lights all around, which are revealing those giant mushrooms, normally hidden in the dark night sky. No worries: after I chant these verses, the flashes and mushrooms will be gone forever. You’re gonna lose, Mama!

I especially like what I read of the English translation of the first chant. It went like this, as I recall:

You evil spirit, I lock you away,
Away from harming others, and yourself.
From your stony cell, you’ll never stray;
You’ll languish there as if left on a shelf.

Very odd rhymes that the translator chose, but the verse seems to express exactly what I need it to say. I just hope I enunciate the verses correctly; as easy as they seem to be to pronounce, there’s always the possibility that I’m assuming too much, and I’ll get something wrong, something crucial.

What are those footsteps I hear behind me. I’d better take a look, though I’ll probably dread who I see…oh, no! That man again!

I guess I should be grateful that I’m still not seeing an elephant’s head on him. He’s running..I’d better run, too.

“Oh, come on, Roger!” he shouts. “Can’t a man talk to his only son?”

“You’re not my father!” I shout. “Go away!”

I’ve managed to outrun him, and I’ve arrived at my apartment. My witch bottle is still safely buried. Good.

OK, I’m inside, and my door is locked. I’ll go over to my magic circle in the living room with my book of notes from the library. I’ll set candles along the periphery of the circle, light them, then turn off the electric lights.

Good: everything’s ready, and I can chant the verses:

O, khalma, lakshmik oka tun
abalka no pushama tei.
Ko mukli toma halba dak;
Mo talma guri sho hanab.

OK, that’s the first verse done; now for the second:

Bidi lirma ota katun
Waga kulmi noto dalad,
Sumerut hoda gasho birit,
Othalmot juki nerob ratas.

Well, that’s it. I guess Mama’s locked away in Hell forever…if I chanted the verses correctly, that is. I’ll get up and look around to see if everything’s OK.

I’m not seeing any flashes of light from out the windows. I’ll go over and take a closer look.

There aren’t any giant mushrooms, that’s a good sign. Still no flashes of light, though I see a strange glow from far off into the horizon. It’s as if the sun hadn’t quite set, yet it’s far too late at night for there to be any sun at all.

It isn’t surreal, what I’m seeing, as it always has been. It doesn’t look supernatural or threatening, as before. It just looks…odd.

Oh, I’m probably just overreacting! There’s probably a perfectly rational explanation for that glow, and I just don’t know what it is. I don’t have to know what everything is for there to be reasonable explanations for unusual phenomena.

It could be a forest fire. There have been lots of wildfires in recent years because of global warming. There could be some…science thing…going on over there that involves lights being turned on, I don’t know.

If it’s me seeing that, it could just be one of my more typical, milder hallucinations, a reflection of my fears and worries about Mama. I’ll just forget about it for now, because I need to get some sleep. If that glow grows into something bigger, I’ll worry about it tomorrow.

I’ll just go to the fridge for a drink of water before going to sleep in the circle…what?

In the mirror reflection…I’m not seeing myself.

I’m seeing…her.

It’s not her with me–it’s just her, standing in my position.

She isn’t grinning malevolently at me, as she used to.

She’s frowning in fear…exactly as I am.

When I move, she moves the exact same way.

I look down at myself and see myself, not her.

But her every movement in the reflection is my own movement.

It’s as if the mirror were telling me that I am her. Mama and I would have to be one and the same person. I can’t look at her anymore; I have to look away, to the windows.

That glow outside seems a little brighter, isn’t it?

Oh, wow! That was such a restful sleep I had! I can see the morning sun shining through the window to my left, welcoming me to go outside. I know I can go outside of this circle on my living room floor, and even just outside my apartment building, with no fear of the magic of Mama’s ghost causing me such problems as she did for me last night.

How am I so free of fear? Because of my witch bottle, of course! I was already safe as soon as I made it and consecrated it with that verse I’d chanted to consecrate the magic circle.

When I left the circle with the witch bottle in my hand, my body didn’t change at all, the way it did so shockingly last night. Mama’s ghost was still frowning at me from the living room mirror, a good sign that she couldn’t do anything to harm me or frustrate me. I took the bottle and a shovel outside, dug a hole in the front lawn as planned, a small hole in the corner–where the lawn met the sidewalk and the driveway–where no one would notice much of a change in the look of the area, and I buried the bottle there.

I returned to my apartment with perfect safety–no bizarre changes to my body or anything else like that. I returned to my circle, this time with my bedroom blanket and pillow. I lay there on the floor, saw Mama’s ghost frowning in the mirror reflection again, and closed my eyes with a peaceful smile on my face. I fell asleep within a few minutes.

Now I can eat some cereal with no fear that she’s going to change it into something disgusting and inedible. I’m up, I’ve gone out of the circle with no problems, and I can confidently eat my breakfast.

I see myself in that mirror all looking normal. Mama’s ghost isn’t even there anymore, scowling or smiling. I guess she doesn’t want to see me gloating at her.

I’m eating a bowl of Shreddies in the kitchen now, and sure enough nothing is wrong. Oh, I feel so much better knowing that I’ve developed magical abilities to thwart her power! Thus encouraged, I’m sure to learn more so I can keep her from doing anything worse to me, or to the rest of the world.

Now that I’ve finished my delicious breakfast, I can take a shower, get dressed, and go to do my shift at the Pet Valu store. Of course, once I’ve gone far enough away from my apartment, my protective magic won’t be able to stop Mama from engaging in any more mischief. I’ll need protection for everywhere I go.

I’ll need to buy an amulet or a sachet.

I think I know a place downtown, an occult store. I can go there and look around. I just hope Mama doesn’t do anything to prevent me from getting there and finding something good.

***********

OK, I finished my shower and put on some fresh clothes, still with no problems. I just have to get outside and over to that downtown store safely. Mama’s ghost will be so mad at me for stopping her here at home that she’ll surely want to get revenge on me.

What am I going to do to protect myself on the way to that store? What if I chanted that verse I used to sanctify the circle and witch bottle? What if I chanted it over and over again, with no breaks in between? Hey, that just might work!

Since getting to the store is priority, I’ll have to be late for my shift at the pet food store. Oh, well: what is Aunt Jane going to do, fire me? She’d only be doing me a favour.

Well, I’m outside now, and I’ve walked past the spot where I buried the witch bottle. I’m walking on the sidewalk, getting farther and farther away from my apartment building, and so far, nothing crazy has happened.

But it’s sure to start happening any second now.

To be on the safe side, I’d better start chanting that verse.

Wana baka waigo,
Iman kuchi zdega
Kalu bodi gana.
Sibako woli zuku.

Wow, just as I started chanting the first line of the verse, I saw the nose of a man about to walk past me turn into a snake, yet my words quickly made the snake dissolve and turn back into a nose just as he passed me! Of the other people on the sidewalk about to pass me, I’m seeing green, slithery noses on them, too! I’d better keep chanting: Wana baka waigo…

Good, their noses are back to normal, too. Iman kuchi zdega…

Everything is staying normal…good. Kalu bodi gana…

I think I’ll be safe for the rest of the walk to the occult store. Sibako woli zuku.

Hey, who is that trio of boys coming up at me from behind? Wana baka waigo…They look familiar, kids who have annoyed me in the past.

“Hey, it’s that psycho freak, Roger Gunn!” one of the brats calls out from just behind my right ear. Iman kuchi zdega…

I feel a hard shove on my back from one of them.

“Leave me alone!” I shout at them, looking back at them with a scowl that, of course, does nothing to deter them.

What I see of them when I look back, though…

Instead of human faces on the three boys, I see the faces of pigs, with huge, mucus-moistened snouts! Now, instead of taunts, I’m hearing oinks and grunts.

This is what I get when I forget to keep chanting.

But instead of chanting the verse again, I’m running. I want to get away from those kids, porcine or not.

Of course, the three of them are running after me. I can hear the clanking sound of what sounds like six huge metallic robotic feet clomping on the sidewalk. I still hear grunting. I’m running as fast as I can. Wana…baka…waigo…

The metallic clanking is now just a sextet of sneaker footfalls. Iman…kuchi…zdega…No more oinking, but I can still hear those three brats running behind me. Kalu…bodi…gana… I hear their taunts.

“Who are you…talking to, you fucking…mental case?”

“There’s no one there…to talk to, you know that, right?”

“You’re seeing…and hearing things! Get therapy, you nut job!”

A few more blocks, and I’ll reach the occult store.

I just made the traffic light, and those kids didn’t make it…good. Looking back, I can see they’ve stopped chasing me. Still, I’d better resume my chanting, for I see their pig-faces and metallic feet again. Sibako woli zuku…

It’s so good not having to run anymore. I won’t be chanting the words while panting, weakening their effectiveness. Wana baka waigo…

I can see the sign of the store down the street. Good, I’m almost there. Iman kuchi zdega…

OK, here it is: Arnie’s Arcana. In I go…

Wait a minute–instead of seeing shelves of books and other merchandise in a well-lit store, I’m seeing a dark cave with stalactites and stalagmites. I forgot to chant again: Kalu bodi gana…

There, that’s better–a brightly-lit store with everything clearly displayed. Sibako woli zuku. Now, I just have to find the amulets and sachets. Wana baka waigo…

Books on ceremonial magic…Iman kuchi zdega… Books for Wiccans…Kalu bodi gana…Let me get past all these books…Sibako woli zuku…

Here’s a bunch of assorted merchandise, small things–maybe I’ll find the amulets and sachets here.

“Hello, can I help you?” a worker in the store asks me. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Do you have any amulets or sachets?” I ask.

It’s getting darker. The stalactites and stalagmites are coming back…

“Oof!” I just tripped over a tall stalagmite.

“Are you OK, Sir?” she asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say.

Then I look up at her.

Instead of seeing a normal woman’s face, I see three black, snaky appendages coming from her cheeks and forehead, at the end of each of which is a bat, trying to bite at my face! “Oh, my God!” I yell as I scramble to get back up and away from her.

“Sir, what’s wrong?” she asks, but with the squeaking voice of a bat with the ability to speak. “Surely, I’m not that ugly.” She laughs nervously, but with the squeaky bat voice.

“No, it’s not that,” I say, then, “Wana baka waigo.“

The bat appendages dissolve, and the dark cave lights up into a well-lit store again. “Iman kuchi zdega.”

“The amulets and sachets are over there, in the corner, Sir,” she says in her normal voice, gesturing to that corner, where I run in a spastic frenzy.

“Kalu bodi gana,” I say in a tremulous voice as I frantically look over the amulets and sachets. As I’m looking them over, trying to focus on which ones look the best, I see the store darkening again. “Sibako woli zuku.” It lights up again.

“Sir, I know it’s none of my business, but have you thought about seeing a doctor?” she asks, sneering at me.

“No, I just need to buy these,” I say, holding up a sachet and an amulet I’ve chosen. “How much are they?”

The store darkens again, and instead of seeing her arms reach out to take the amulet and sachet to find the price tags I was too nervous to find myself, I see two long snakes grab them with their teeth, also biting my hands!

“Oww!” I shout, then pull my hands back to suck on the bite wounds.

“Sir, I never hurt you,” she says, in her bat squeaks, those three bats flying out from her face again and trying to bite at my face again. One of them bites my left ear.

“Aah!” I scream. “Let’s hurry to the cash register so I can pay for them. Quickly! Wana baka waigo!” The store lights up again, she’s back to normal, and we’re at the cash register.

“That’ll be $27.46, Sir,” she says with fear in her eyes. “Will that be cash, or charge?”

“Cash,” I say, then slap three ten dollar bills on the counter. The store is going dark and cavernous again, and a snake-arm takes the money and bites my hand before I can take it away. “Oww!“

I fumble with the amulet, which is attached to a necklace, before putting it around my neck. As I hold it and look at it, I say, “Wana baka waigo, Iman kuchi zdega Kali bodi gana. Sibako woli zuku.” The store lights up again, and she looks normal again, with harmless arms.

Yes, she looks normal, alright…except for the terrified look on her face.

Now I’m staring at the sachet I bought and am holding in my hand, repeating the four-line verse to sanctify it, too. I put it in the chest pocket of my Pet Valu shirt, I look at the clerk, and slowly regain my breath. “I’m sorry about that, Miss,” I tell her.

“Sir, are you alright now?” she asks, her eyes getting teary. “You really gave me a scare there. Were you hallucinating or something?”

“Ma’am, this store sells magic stuff, does it not?” I ask rather petulantly as I feel my heartbeat slowing down. “If you sell that stuff, surely you also believe in magic, right? Some people who practice magic are witches, right?” She’s been nodding nervously to my reasoning. “Now, a witch has been using magic on me, making me see monstrous things. That’s why I needed to buy these things, to protect myself from her. I bought them, I’ve sanctified them, and now everything is OK. Thank you. I’ll go now.”

She’s too shaken up to say goodbye as I walk out of the store.

On the street and still shaking, but grateful to see everything all normal again, I feel my cellphone ringing in my pocket. I take it out. “Hello?”

“Roger?” Aunt Jane says. “Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

Instead of answering, I can’t stop laughing.

I’m in my apartment now; I just slammed the door shut behind me and locked it. I have a box of white chalk in my bedroom desk drawer. I’ll run over there, take a piece of chalk from it, and draw the circle on the wooden floor in the living room.

I’m in such a frantic state, drawing this circle in such a hurry. I’m sure it isn’t a perfect circle, the radii all equidistant from the centre, but it seems close enough. I don’t remember any passages in the books I read saying anything about the magic circle having to be perfectly round. I’m just so scared after seeing that ‘elephant man’ on the street behind me, one of Mama’s spells, that I want this magic circle of protection finished and ready as soon as possible.

Oh, shit! I forgot to get that large ruler I also have in my bedroom desk drawer, the one under where I had the box of chalk. I’m so frantic to get this done, I’m not thinking straight, and making myself take needless extra trips! Anyway, I’ll get the ruler, then use the chalk to draw a pentacle in the circle.

There, the lines are as straight as I could make them, and measured as equally apart from each other as I could make them. Again, they aren’t perfect, but close enough. I’m in a hurry to keep Mama out, and I must balance accuracy with urgency.

And now, I’ll light five candles and put one at each point of the pentacle touching the circle; then I’ll turn off the lights. Mama had a box of candles in one of the kitchen drawers. I’ll get them…Oh, where are they?! Here they are. There’s a lighter in here, too–how convenient.

There…all the candles are lit, and I can turn off the lights now. My notebook is in the circle, so I can get in and chant that verse to sanctify this zone of protection. I hope my pronunciation of the words of the ancient language is close enough to be effective; I hope their spelling in the ABCs is consistent with English pronunciation. Here goes:

Wana baka waigo,
Iman kuchi zdega
Kalu bodi gana.
Sibato woli zuku.

Whoa! Suddenly, I feel this warm vibration all around me. It’s soothing. My magic must be working! I must have done it all right, or at least well enough. I feel safe in here. Mama can’t get at me!

Oh, what peace of mind! I can go to sleep here. I’m warm enough for now; I won’t need my blanket. I’ll just get a cushion off the sofa, which is just outside the circle, and use it for a pillow.

Ooh! When my hand went out of the circle to grab the cushion, my hand felt a little chill. For a few seconds there, it felt none of the soothing vibrations in here. There really is a clear difference between my zone of safety and everything outside.

Hey, out there, the mirror on the far wall, just beside the TV. I see not only my reflection, but also the image of some horrible-looking old woman with long, shaggy grey hair. In the dark, the face isn’t easy to see.

Oh, that must be Mama’s ghost! She’s frowning, obviously mad because she cannot get at me in here. Well, good: let her be mad. I’m safe in here. I’m glad she’s mad.

I’ll bet she’s mad not only because the magic circle and pentacle are keeping her out, but also because she hates the messy chalk marks on the wooden floor. She was always a neat freak, yelling at me for being a “slob,” as she’d always called me. Well, she can’t do anything about my messiness now, not as long as I stay in this circle.

Of course, I’ll have to leave the circle for this and that.

Oh well, I’m not worrying about that now.

I’m getting some sleep. I’m exhausted. I’ll curl up in a fetal position so I don’t kick over any of the candles.

**************

Uh-oh. I gotta take a piss!

How long was I sleeping? Let me click the light on my watch. It’s 12:00 midnight now; I slept for about three hours. The bathroom’s out in front of me to the right. In between the bathroom and the mirror by the TV is the hallway leading to the front door. To get to the bathroom isn’t far, of course, but it’s well outside of my circle.

And that mirror. I can see Mama’s ghost there, looking right at me. She isn’t frowning any more.

Now she’s grinning at me.

With those cruel eyes of hers.

I can’t hold it in any longer. I have to pee.

Whatever she does, I’ll just have to deal with it. I can’t be like Howard Hughes and piss in bottles just to stay in this circle. I’ll have to go out for other things, anyway: crapping, getting food, going to work…

Ugh! I’m already hating this life.

Anyway, I’ve gotta go.

I can see her grinning at me in the reflection.

She’s waiting for me to sprint.

Oh, well, Mama. Have at me.

This has to have been the maddest dash ever. I banged my foot on the bathroom door as I was racing in here. Oww, that hurt!

Unzip my pants, whip it out…aahh…

As it’s pouring into the toilet bowl, I’m trying to resist the temptation to look at myself in the bathroom mirror on the medicine cabinet. I don’t want to see Mama’s ghastly face there.

Oh, I finally emptied myself. That feels much better. I’ll zip myself up and wash my hands, keeping my face down so as not to see the mirror reflection.

Pour the water on my hands. Lather up the soap. As I’m rubbing the lather on my hands, I can feel my heart pounding and my body shaking.

She hasn’t done anything yet, thank God, but I’m still vulnerable out here. I’ve got to finish up here and get back in my circle as fast as possible.

OK, I’m rinsing the soap off…come on, hurry up and get all off my hands! There, now I’ll just get a towel and wipe them dry…there.

Hang the towel back on the towel rack on the wall behind me, there. And now I can get out of…

What? I just absent-mindedly looked in the mirror. I don’t see Mama with me, but I…don’t see myself…in it, either.

Instead, I see…

My God, this is the sickest hallucination I’ve ever had!

My head is a giant nose! It’s got tiny eyes on it.

On the tip of the nose is a small foot!

Below the foot is an…asshole?

I’m touching my ‘head,’ and feeling the big nose; I’m touching my ‘nose,’ and feeling the tiny, wiggling toes on the foot. I’m inhaling, and smelling…shit.

I scream out loud, but hear the roar of a huge fart. As I’m running out of the bathroom, hearing Mama’s cackling the whole time, it’s awkward for me: as I stagger toward the circle, I look down at my feet, but I see hands there instead!

Finally, I reach the circle, falling into it.

Whoa, that couldn’t have just been one of my hallucinations! I never see or hear things anywhere near that surreal! A man with the head of a blue elephant? My head as a giant nose with eyes on it? My nose as a little foot? My mouth as an anus? My feet as hands? These were all Mama’s magic, surely!

I can see her in that mirror reflection over there, still grinning and laughing at me. I see myself with the nose-head, the foot-nose, and the asshole-mouth. As I feel my face, everything feels normal here: I can feel my hair, my forehead, eyebrows, eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. I’m looking down and seeing my feet as feet.

I can see the clear difference between how it is inside the circle and outside. My magic circle of protection clearly works. I just have to have protection for when I have to go outside of it.

That will mean making a witch bottle. I’ll get a bottle of lemonade out of the fridge, drink it all down, wash it, get some scissors, and clip my nails and some of my hair to put in the empty bottle. Then I’ll piss in it. Since it’s past midnight now, I’ll go out and bury it on the front lawn outside as soon as it’s ready.

Well, I guess I’m gonna have my nose-head, etc., for a while. Off to the kitchen for that bottle!

As soon as I’ve come outside the circle, I’ve felt my feet turn back into hands. I’m clumsily making my way to the kitchen. Time to open the fridge…

What? My hands are feet!

I’ll have to go down on my ass and open the fridge with my feet-hands. This is going to be awkward…there. Reaching up to get the bottle…more awkwardness…there. It’s too awkward for me to drink with my feet-hands. I’ll have to put the bottle between my hands-feet, and drink it down that way. Off with the cap, first.

Gulp it down my asshole-mouth…Eww! The lemonade is piss!

What a mess I’ve made all over the kitchen floor after spitting it out. That was stupid of me: of course, Mama was going to change more things, upset me more, and thwart my plans! I should take the bottle with the scissors back to the circle and do everything there. The scissors are in the kitchen drawer…there, got ’em with my foot-hand. Back to the circle.

Oh, shit! I forgot to put the cap back on the bottle. As I’m staggering back to the circle, I’m spilling piss on myself!

Finally, I’m back in. My body’s back to normal, and my lemonade is real lemonade. I’ll gulp this all down, clip my nails and snip off a bit of my hair, and put them in the empty bottle. I’d rather piss my own piss into it than trust the piss Mama put into the bottle outside the circle, for obvious reasons.

There, I drank it all down, and I’m glad I got rid of that horrible piss-taste in my mouth. Oh, I can see Mama’s ghost in the mirror; she isn’t smiling anymore. That scowl on her withered face is really reassuring.

I’ll just clip all my fingernails…there…put them in the bottle. I guess I don’t need to wash it; if I did, she’d still be smiling, waiting for me to come back out to use the kitchen sink, then have a chance to frustrate my hopes once again. There, I’ve cut off some hair, and put it in, too.

Now I’ll just wait to pee, and after that, chant those sacred, ancient words to sanctify the bottle. Then I’ll bury it outside, and I should be all the safer from Mama’s ghost.

Tomorrow, I’ll go find a shop that sells amulets and sachets.

Hey, I feel a piss coming on. Unzip, and let it out…aahh!

I’ll chant that verse again, then go back to sleep.

I see Mama’s really frowning in that mirror reflection.

Good.

A week has passed since I had that nightmare, or vision, or whatever it was. Nothing crazy has happened since then; Mama’s ghost hasn’t done anything to upset me. She’s probably just taking her time with me–starting slowly and gradually building up, knowing that that dream, or vision, would be enough to disturb me for at least a week.

As I’ve walked to work and back home, I haven’t even seen that man trying to get my attention. Didn’t Mom want me to talk to him, according her her taunts, speaking through other people’s mouths?

Anyway, I’m in the Pet Valu store now, at the cash register, waiting for customers to come in. My aunt is using the washroom at the moment.

This is so stupid–me continuing to work here, when Mama left me so much money that I could just stay at home and never need to work again! If Aunt Jane wants to take over Mom’s business, for a way to pass the time, that’s her business; but she could easily hire someone to replace me…why won’t she?

I just heard the toilet flush in the back. She can come back here and be bored at the cash register while I face cans, or something. Here she comes.

“I can take over here, Roger,” she says.

“Good,” I snort, then step aside for her.

“Why the grumpy attitude?” she asks me with a scowl.

“I’m sick of it here,” I say. “Why don’t you find someone else to do this job? I don’t need the money. You know Mama left me enough to live on.”

“I already told you why, Roger. Your mother told me months ago, when she felt her health declining, that she wanted you to continue working, in spite of the objections she predicted you would make, so you would stay in contact with other people. That’s why I agreed to take over the pet food store when she died. We worry about you, Roger, that is, the whole family does. If you quit your job here, you’ll just sit around at home all day and all night, doing nothing but watching TV or wasting time online–probably looking at porn or something–avoiding people, and just rotting away in isolation. Having this job keeps you around people. It keeps you functioning on at least some level of normality. It’s good for you.”

I groan in annoyance at all of these words. The last thing that interacting with people has ever been is good for me; but try to convince my aunt to see the truth in that!

“I guess I’ll go face the cans,” I say with a sigh.

“Actually, there are some bags of Iams at the back,” she says. “They’re too big and heavy for me to lift. I need you to pick them up and put them under the older ones.”

“OK.” I walk over to the back.

At least I’d managed to talk her out of moving in with me, back when she suggested the idea…to watch over me, and make sure I “wasn’t doing anything foolish.” Her living in the apartment with me would be beyond awkward.

Just as I’ve been thinking about her interfering in my life, think of the Devil, and she appears.

I’m putting the older bags of Iams dog food on the two new bags I got from the back, and she has just arrived. I can feel her standing behind me.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Roger, if you’ve talked to your father yet,” she says, causing me to groan in annoyance. “A few days ago, he told me he tried to get your attention when you were coming here or going home, and you just kept ignoring him, so he gave up trying. Have you spoken to him since then?”

“Of course not,” I say, then hiss between clenched teeth, “And he’s not my father. My father is dead. And even if he were alive, my real father couldn’t be such a foolish looking fellow as he.”

“How can you be so sure he isn’t your father if you never even find out? Why would he pretend?”

“Because he’s delusional, of course!”

“Roger, you’re hardly the one to be judging the mental stability of others, with your tendency to see and hear things. Don’t project your faults onto others…and don’t talk to me in that tone!”

“If you don’t like the way I talk to you, then just fire me!”

“You’re not getting out of this job, and out of the social world, this easily. You are going to meet him sooner or later, even if I have to bring him over to your apartment.”

“Oh, God, just leave me alone, would you?”

“Just get back to those bags, and watch your mouth,” she says, then walks away in a huff. “Impossible kid,” I hear her say under her breath.

Yeah, impossible “kid.” Mama always used to call me a kid, even well into my adulthood. I heard her call me that a few times even days before she died. I was never an adult to her, because she didn’t want me to be one. I had to remain a child in a man’s body for her, so she could control me better. She ruined my life with her witchcraft, and she seems to have come back to life in the form of my Aunt Jane. Or perhaps her spirit is possessing my aunt…that could be it!

Either way, I’m no freer than when Mama was alive.

Maybe this is it: maybe she’s using her magic in a subtle way. Could Mama’s spirit be worried that I, having learned a little magic of my own, might learn more, develop my skills at it, grow in power, and thus be a threat to her? It’s possible…unlikely, but possible.

Perhaps I can make it less unlikely if I really do make more of a study of the magic arts. In any case, she’ll keep persecuting me, and causing more and more mischief for the rest of the world, regardless of whether I try to stop her or not…so I’d better try learning more.

After work, I’m going back to the library.

*************

Here I am, at a table with a dozen or so books about how to communicate with, influence, and protect oneself from the spirit world. I’ve already spent several hours jotting down notes in the hope that they’ll help me against Mama.

I have no way of knowing if any of the books I’ve chosen are authoritative or if they’ve all been written by quacks and charlatans. If they’re any good at all, have I written down the better information from them, or have I just written down a bunch of useless nonsense?

In any case, what I have learned has at least given me some hope that I can stop Mama. It will improve my chances of sleeping tonight, if it doesn’t do anything else for me.

It’s getting late. I see nothing but black out that window over there to my right. I’d better put these books away and go home. I can read more from them tomorrow, and I can find more information online on my laptop, if I feel like it.

**********

I’m walking on a sidewalk with the library behind me, lampposts giving me some light in an otherwise starless, black night. It will be at least another ten blocks or so before I reach my apartment. The darkness is ominous.

A few of the spells I read about looked as if they could be effective. In my living room, I can use a piece of chalk or something to draw a magic circle on the floor, draw a pentacle in it, and chant the verse I wrote down to sanctify it.

If the spell works, that is, if it keeps Mama out, I can get my sleeping bag and sleep there, with the TV and my laptop handy to keep me entertained.

As for when I need to leave that zone of protection, another thing I learned from those books is that I can get an amulet or a witch bottle, something I can take with me anywhere for protection against Mama’s ghost. I hope buying such things won’t gouge out too much of my money.

I could fill the witch bottle with my urine, hair or nail clippings, or maybe with rosemary or red wine, if I find pissing into it to be too disgusting. I could bury the bottle in the dirt on the front lawn of my apartment building; I’ll do it at night, so no one sees me and tries to stop me.

The amulet could be a necklace of some kind that I can wear everywhere, never taking it off, for extra protection. I could buy a sachet, or Chinese xiangbao, to ward off Mama’s evil. All of these extra precautions should keep me safe; if none of them work, I really have no idea of what I’m going to do.

Hey…are those footsteps I’m hearing behind me? At this time of night, there are few pedestrians walking about, and there were none on the sidewalk as I left the almost-empty library, and I haven’t seen one person walking here since. Am I imagining the footsteps? Dare I look behind me?

Those aren’t my own footsteps, are they? Is my mind exaggerating the sound, making an imaginary echo? I’ll keep walking and listening: a pair of footfalls, or two pairs of them?

I’m hearing two pairs–no echo.

There’s no way I’m going to stop walking. In fact, I’m going to start walking faster, with long strides.

The person behind me is doing the same thing.

He…or she…sounds really close behind, too.

“Roger, please,” the male voice behind me says. “Can I have a minute to talk to you?”

Oh, God. It’s that guy again! Fine, I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him to go away, as rude as I can be.

“Listen, buddy, can you fu…?” I begin as I’m turning my head back to see him. But what I end up seeing–illuminated by a nearby lamppost–is a man’s body with the head of a blue elephant!

“Roger, I can prove to you that I am your fa…” he begins.

But I’m already running, screaming, before that thing can finish its sentence.