“Look,” Liza said, sitting back on the couch between Captain Allen and I after we’d dragged her out of her bed, “all I did was tweak the Three Nights of Hell Spell.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?” I asked.
Actually, more than a little, I thought to myself.
“It hasn’t been…until today…with the extra energy from the gasoline explosion.”
“What do you mean by tweaked?” the Captain asked.
And I so hoped he got an answer to that question. I’d asked the same one earlier and got nowhere.
“I was just going for the three nights of pain thing. Not the death after night three. I used my own jingle instead of what’s on the card.”
I held the card in my hand and read the spell to myself, too damn afraid to read it out loud in case that would cast it again. It said:
“As I do this candle spell,
Bring mine enemy three nights of hell,
Candle black, black as night,
Bring him pains of flesh tonight!
Lesions on his skin will grow
Afflict him with a painful blow
Sores and pain afflict him now,
For three nights he will wonder how,
Dukes of darkness, Kings of Hell,
Smite mine enemy, bring him hell.
A creepy energy moved up and down my arms giving me goose bumps. Surely, I was imagining things. I do have a rather over the top imagination. So yeah. That had to be it.
“Let’s hear your tweaked version,” Captain Allen commanded.
“Okay. Fine. No harm can come of it anyway because we’re not using the candles with the photos,” Liza said.
Then she chanted:
“As I do this candle spell,
Bring mine enemy and my friend’s enemy three nights of hell,
Candle black, black as night,
Bring them pains of flesh tonight!
Lesions from burns on one’s skin will grow
While the other, afflict him with a painful neck blow
Sores and pain afflict them now,
For three nights both assholes will wonder how,
Dukes of darkness, Kings of Hell,
Smite mine asshat enemies, bring ‘em hell.
Finished with her cantation, she still had a wicked sparkle in her eyes, although it appeared much more dim than when she was in full spellcasting revelry.
“What about the last part?” I asked. “This card says you finish by lifting the curse.”
“Well…I haven’t done that part yet.”
“Do it…now,” directed Captain Allen. “Or I will arrest you.”
“On what charges?” She asked, the wicked sparkle back in place.
I’ll have to admit, I was wondering that too. How do you arrest someone on suspicion of witchcraft? It wasn’t like we were in Salem Massachusetts in 1692. But yeah, I wasn’t dumb enough to ask.
The Captain didn’t answer, and didn’t look the least bit flustered or concerned at all that he had to vouch for his threat.
“Okay. Okay,” Liza said then sighed. “You really need to lighten up.”
She went over to the small table, lit the two black candles, let the wax drip on Darryl and Hank’s pictures, then tore up the photos and said:
When three nights of pain have been endured,
I lift this curse, rest assured.
Darkness leave them, go away.
The curse is lifted now, today.
“I don’t know why y’all’s panties are in such a pinch,” she said, while blowing out the candles. “I need three different photos of each one before I can do the death part of the spell. And, I’d only found that one press shot of Hank.”
“What a relief,” I said.
And yes, I was being a total smart ass. By now, I was more than ready to bail on being her understudy.
“I betchya you had everything you needed on Darryl’s behalf,” the Captain added, unable to keep a grin from stretching across his lips.
“I sure did,” she said, damn near salivating. “But I have to cast the spell three times in the same month for the death part to work. Lucky for him, I didn’t know that till yesterday. So, in that regards, the bastard’s safe. Well…till next month.”
Captain Allen and I just looked at each other. I mean…c’mon on, how do you respond to that?