Betty Babington stared down at the fanged mouth of a wolf, the last place she thought she’d be at 33 years old. But, here she was, looking straight into the wide open, heavy breathing mouth — full of 42 golden hued, perfectly aligned teeth. She knew the risks, and that hadn’t dissuaded her. What stopped her in her tracks were the massive four inch fangs protruding from the wolf’s jawline like claws, glistening with saliva and ready to crush whatever they encountered. Those things were meant for gripping and puncturing, and they looked as if they’d seen their fair share of activity—a lot of gripping and puncturing, in her opinion.
Taking a deep breath, she leaned in for a closer look, and pushed her black-rimmed glasses tight against the bridge of her nose. Mesmerized by the magnificent magical creature, Betty’s eyes wandered over the thick silver fur and grey eyes before adjusting her headlamp. Guiding the large LED light into the darkest recesses of the creature's mouth, she searched for the wolf’s biggest and strongest molars, the ones used to devour their prey. She sighed.
The wolf twisted his jaw, moaned, and shifted in the chair.
“Relax, Fritz,” her tone almost a whisper, her breath measured. “Relax.”
“’ow am I, ‘posed to ‘elax,” the enormous wolf slurred through his stretched jaw.
“Fritz, I can’t see what’s going on if you don’t let me look.” Betty pushed back her rolling chair and sat the headlamp on the top of her well-appointed, low ponied red hair. “Maybe you should, you know… shift?”
Fritz growled and grumbled, flailing to his feet. Once calm and sitting, he planted all four paws in the curved valley of Betty Babington’s dental chair. Swiping his saliva soaked mouth with the fur on his huge front leg, Fritz glared at Betty.
“Dr. Babington, I will shift if you insist. But my teeth don’t hurt when I’m in my human form, just when I’m a wolf.” Fritz stretched his mouth open wider and raised his head to the ceiling. “They feel, owooooo, I don’t know. They feel weak. Like they’re going to fall out of my head at any minute. Especially when I’m eating.”
Betty wrangled the images of Fritz the wolf Shifter ‘eating’, bouncing around in her brain, and tucked them into her mental ‘do not open’ file, smiling. “You know what, let’s try to look one more time.”
“Thanks, Betty.” Fritz nodded his gigantic head in her direction, circled the blue leather chair and flopped down, allowing his feet to spill over and dangle off the sides.
“Okay, Fritz. Open wide.” Lowering her headlamp, she peered once again into the wolf Shifter’s mouth, fixing the glasses tighter on her nose.
“Ahhhhh….” Fritz’s booming words trailed off the fuller he opened his jaws.
“Think of something pleasurable. Good thoughts. This will be over before you notice it ever happened.” Betty soothed.
Scanning every tooth, she looked for any sign of trouble, while images from Fritz’s thoughts transferred themselves to her mind. His family playing in the woods. Running through the thicket. Hunting something. His thoughts became her own, flashing through her cells. Her breathing became shorter as she absorbed every action, feeling every stride his large lumbering wolf-body-thoughts took. Fritz’s mind wondered off to places Betty wished she’d never known; his worries, his pleasures, and even his penchants.
Mind absorption wasn’t a power she possessed as a witch doctor dentist. It was a gift given to her in the form of black-rimmed glasses that were a bit too large for her face. All she had to do was push on the bridge and they helped her search for teeth fit to hatch, or teeth needing to be buried. They also opened a portal to other people’s thoughts. At first, learning all the crazy things her patients thought about was entertaining and even funny—until she saw their painful moments, their worries, or sorrows. The gift was as much of a burden as it was a blessing, causing Betty to have a real love-hate relationship with her glasses. She needed them for work, but they uncovered truths about friends better left hidden. For this fact, she didn’t like to wear them outside her office.
She scanned Fritz’s larger teeth, brisker and with more intensity. Too much time in a wolf Shifter’s mind could not only be disturbing, but dangerous. As his magical power bubbled up to the surface enamel of each fang, it lit up his teeth like glowing beacons. All the wolf’s magic was intact, except the top right tooth.
“Aha, there’s our culprit.” Betty watched the fang. It flickered and sputtered like a weak bulb.
“Gotcha,” she whispered.
“Uh,” Fritz mumbled.
“I’ve found your problem, Fritz.” Grabbing a pair of rubber coated, silver pliers, Betty gripped the large fang. “Now, you’re going to feel some pressure, for a moment,” lime green flames tipped with pink magic grew along her arms as she pulled and twisted, coaxing the tooth to let go of the wolf.
Like clockwork, and with the usual fanfare, a breeze of three tooth fairies flew by her head, squeaking out a barage of indiscernible words with higher-than-helium pitched voices.
“Here we go. Get ready. Follow me.” Molar, the King of the real teeth, tooth fairies, chuckled. He twitched his broad pale-yellow wings, straightened his crown and motioned to his pals—Cuspid and Incisor—as if he was landing a plane to assemble above Betty’s head.
“Yay! Is it a baby tooth?” Innie giggled and swirled.
“No, Innie, it’s an older tooth.” Cuspid laughed, letting her rainbow wings stop, sinking, as if on an escalator, until she was even with Betty’s ear.
“Awe, shucks,” Innie squeaked, allowing his white wings to carry him higher as he somersaulted to the ceiling, bumping his halo. “Ouch! I wanted to take care of this one.”
Betty spied the floating small apple-sized tooth out of the corner of her golden-brown eyes. “Uh-um,” she cleared her throat and whispered, “No. No. Not appropriate. Working here.”
Cuspid blinked, as she clapped her wings together, then apart, sending herself rocket-style, shooting straight up, out of Betty’s sight.
With a click, the fang popped out, and the gleaming white tip of a new tooth emerged in Fritz’s mouth. He sighed. “…. oh, ‘etty, ‘uch ‘etter.”
“You should feel much better, Fritz. Your fang was bad, and shorting out your magic.” She smiled down at the flickering fang between her pliers.
“...’etty,” Fritz slobbered.
“Oh, yes, one moment, please.” Betty settled the new tooth fairy into a light blue jar, sealed it with an aerated lid and swivelled back to her patient, “Let’s take a quick look at that new fang of yours.”
Fritz opened his mouth and Betty smiled at the emerging full-grown new tooth, glowing with a bright white light. Lowering her black-rimmed glasses, she said, “you’re on the mend. Give it another hour, Fritz, and you’ll be fine.”
Fritz rumbled with a huge, growling laugh. “Betty, you’re the best witch doctor dentist, ever.”
She scoffed. “I wouldn’t go that far, Fritz. Considering, I am the only witch doctor dentist. Besides, all I do is help teeth transition.”
“Right. Well, you’ve still got my vote as the best. So, on a more serious note, am I completely losing it?” Fritz sighed.
“You mean your magic?” Betty lowered her voice.
“Yes. My magic. I’m old, Betty. Older than you think. And I realize what happens to old Shifters. When the teeth go, the magic follows.” He laid an enormous paw on her arm and patted her. “It’s okay, my friend. I’d rather know.”
Betty stared at her Shifter friend. He was a kind wolf, and a better man—no matter what intimate details of his life flooded her brain when she searched his mouth. She didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news for Fritz or anyone. It was a load too heavy for a witch doctor, who’s taken the easy road her whole life. That’s why she became a dentist. She thought it was a happy profession, with few patients and responsibilities, and no actual trouble. Yet, here she sat, staring at a friend knowing his fate, and being asked to be a messenger.
“Fritz, you have your full third set of fangs now. That means you have a long time.” She was gentle in her assessment.
“The golden years for a Shifter. I’ll make the most of them. Check off that bucket list with the wife.” He smiled.
“I can’t imagine anything better to focus on.” Laying her hand over his paw, she imagined he’d do just that.
“So, how’s that old fang look?”
“This little guy?” She raised the glass jar that held the flickering fang, “we’ll take care of him, don’t you worry.”
Betty wheeled around in her chair, pulled the fang out and placed him on a narrow blue napkin on her transition station tray of implements and jars. Pushing her glasses back on her nose, she peered inside the dim tooth and watched in amazement as tiny wings struggled to unfold on the backside, and the smallest of black eyes trembled open on the other. “I’ll need some dust.”
“On it.” Molar grinned and chest bummed into Cuspid, whose wings carried her toward the soon-to-be new tooth fairy. As the three real teeth, tooth fairies surrounded the wolf's fang, Cuspid turned her back, shook and flapped her rainbow wings. The tooth trio laughed with abandon, swirled above the tray and floated in a sparkling trail of rainbow glitter that coated the fang.
Betty took her stethoscope and hovered it above the transitioning tooth, listening with intense focus as the once struggling fang twinkled to life. She marveled at the transformation. As the process from tooth to tooth fairy took place, the miracle revealed gossamer wings, blinking black eyes, and a toothless smile growing in tandem with the fang’s size.
“Hi, little guy. You're going to make one heck of a tooth fairy.” She winked at the new tooth fairy and whispered, “don’t worry, you’re safe with us until your wings are mature. Wonder what color they’ll be?”
Backing out of the room, Betty waved good bye to Fritz the wolf Shifter. She shut the door, leaned up against the wall in the empty hallway, and closed her eyes. “Whew.”
“I sometimes see you pass outside my door. Hello, is it me you’re looking for…” the famous Lionel Richie lyrics floated down the hall of Betty’s dental office, acappella and in the out-of-tune alto voice of Ginger. “Hello, I’ve just got to let you know, I love you.”
Betty chuckled. “Hey, Gingerbelle.”
The goldendoodle familiar bounded up to her witch and bared a toothy grin. Looking up at Betty, she sang, “Hello…”
“Are we on an 80s kick today? Or are you trying to tell me something?” Staring into the deep brown eyes of her familiar, her heart hitched with a twinge of pain for her poor cursed creature, “Alrighty, sweet girl. A big hello to you, too. Walk with me to my office. I’m ready for a break.”
Betty pulled opened her office door with care and slipped inside the comfortable, quiet space. Trotting by her, clicking her nails on the hard wood floor, Ginger leapt up on a pile of pillows stacked in the corner of a green velvet couch and plopped down.
“Ginger, careful,” Betty whispered. “We don’t want to wake Birdie.”
“Too late, Mom,” the soft words floated up from under the weight of the goldendoodle.
“’Cause I’m free as a bird now. And this bird you cannot change, oh, oh, oh, oh. Goddess knows I cannot change.” Ginger tapped her paw in time with her Lynyrd Skynyrd Freebird rendition, thumping the mess of red curls stacked in a bun on top of Birdie’s head.
“Ginger, stop it or I’ll sic my kaleidoscope on you!” she snickered and pushed the goldendoodle’s paw off her head. “You don’t like it either, see,” she tussled the fluffy curls on Ginger’s head and the dog shook her whole body.
Betty grinned at the two wrestling on the couch. “Play nice, girls. And Birdie do not let your butterflies torment Ginger. I don’t think I can survive another round of Mariah Carey songs.”
“UGH. MOM.” Birdie groaned. “Why did you say it…”
Breaking into her best and loudest attempt, Ginger bounced off the couch and belted out, “spread your wings and prepare to fly, for you have become a butterfly.”
A sudden whoosh came across the room, and the kaleidoscope of butterflies swarmed Ginger and Birdie. Their graceful wings pushing through the air, and their tiny, softer-than-a-whisper voices joined in unison for a majestic, “Get them. Get them. Get them.”
Ignoring the commotion, Betty plopped into the large leather chair and kicked her feet up on the walnut desk. Eyeing a small teal box, stationed in the middle of her day planner, she said, “What’s this, Birdie?”
“What?” Birdie swatted her swarm of butterflies away.
“This box. Or the thing in this box?” Betty turned the petite, yet heavy, package over in her hands.
“Ooooo. That is the coolest thing ever.” Birdie’s dark brown eyes lit up with excitement. “It’s from grandma. From Colossus.com. It’s a new ‘Copy’.”
“A what?” Betty scratched her head and read the marketing tags on the teal box aloud. “Copy Reveal. The magical device that adds your very own talking Amelia to any room or broom. Explore the human and witch world and never have to transport again.”
“Cool, right?!” Birdie exclaimed.
“I guess.” Betty handed the gift to Birdie. “I don’t understand witches today. What’s so unappealing about transporting? I couldn’t wait to transport by myself when I was your age.”
“Transporting is awesome, Mom, but having a ‘Copy’ means I don’t have to. Plus, I can see into the human world anytime I want, without ever leaving the house.” Birdie narrowed her eyes. “It’s basically gazing. Crystal gazing without the whole seeing the future thing.”
“A lot less dangerous than gazing, I hope.” Betty raised one well-manicured arch shaped eyebrow.
“Yes, Mom,” Birdie laughed, “The ‘Copy’ device is totally harmless.”
“Great. Then you hooligans, enjoy that. I’ve got to check in on Millie.” Shutting the door on the chaos that was the loves of her life, Betty patted her pocket for the round glasses, smoothed her white coat, straightened her shoulders, and headed toward the waiting room.