The Book of Spells: Part Two

After the spooky house garage sale with the wanna-be vampire boy minding the store and casting a charm Julie did find attractive, the cute redhead with the exciting figure went home on the Marco Island October evening and went to bed at midnight. The Book of Spells, however, with the old English script and strange leather binding did not stay on the dining room table where she knew she left it. Apparently, the only item she bought at the almost-Halloween garage sale moved through the night because it ended up beside her in bed. When she awoke at the witching hour—that is always 3:30—Julie began to wrestle with the few rational possibilities that would keep her sane. There must be an explanation for the movement of what she originally believed was an old Hollywood prop from the 1930s monster movies.

Her first thought was simple. She must have brought The Book of Spells to bed and fallen asleep before she could have a look. The second thought was about sleepwalking. Could she have developed a new nighttime habit of which she was unaware? She shrugged off the possibility as absurd, but the sleepwalking consideration was almost as disturbing as the thought of the old book with the weird smell actually moving and coming into bed for a cozy visit.

After gripping the book firmly with a newfound tenacity, which was not unlike reprimanding a bad pet, Julie was determined and almost angry. With her phone guiding her as a flashlight, she brought the book into the breakfast nook and left it closed on the kitchen table. She then began to turn on all the lights and look in the closets and under the beds. 

Julie’s home was another of the sturdy Deltona Hurricane houses that could battle any storm, but suddenly, the single redhead alone in the house began to consider her rising goosebumps. Storms of the paranormal might not be as easy to weather as a hurricane. 

When she was finally finished searching the house, perhaps for the cute vampire boy at the garage sale, she turned off some of the lights and went back to bed. When she awoke at first light, trudged into the kitchen and began to push the button on the coffee machine, she froze and it was not from the first cold front of the October season.

The Book of Spells was open. After practically scolding the old book with her tenacious grip and slamming it down closed on the table in the breakfast nook, Julie knew it was not possible she could have a misstep in her memory, but the old relic was open to a very interesting chapter. 

With the first light of day spilling onto one of the pages that were tatty but still perfectly legible, the feisty redhead suddenly understood she was looking at the recipe for a love potion on one page, and a formula for destroying a marriage on the other.

The love potion was calling for odd items that were actually not that odd, and with a sudden understanding, Julie knew she could produce the love potion from the book with ingredients she had in the kitchen…or possibly the garage.

The opposite page was a recipe for the destruction of a love affair or a marriage. This concoction was demanding a few items that were almost as sinister as the thought of the book moving in the middle of the night, but as Julie watched, her hands began to turn the pages of The Book of Spells.

The smelly old book was indeed like a misbehaving pet. As Julie began to turn through the chapters, some of the pages seemingly wanted to stop and sniff the newly found fresh air, but always on a topic which the young redhead was beginning to find more than interesting.

When her phone chimed with a text, Julie realized with a start that she had been searching through the eccentric calligraphy for over an hour.

After realizing she was late for an appointment, the popular redhead who was a newcomer to Marco jumped into her car. On the way back home, she drove by the aging hurricane house where she bought The Book of Spells and realized an excavator and large dumpster in the driveway meant that she had rescued the old friend just before it was too late.

When she walked into the living room and clicked on the TV, The Book of Spells was waiting on the coffee table and not in the kitchen. A new chapter was open and Julie sat down to read.

Throughout the following winter, spring, and even throughout the long hot summer, Julie never went anywhere without The Book of Spells. The old leather volume was indeed her pet, and on most occasions her pet was well behaved, but when the cute redhead with the exciting figure became frustrated or even angry, The Book of Spells might show some teeth.

The rude sales girl at the snobby store in Naples was one example of when the book fell open to a chapter on revenge. The same effect of calamity fell upon the crooked car dealership who sold her a lemon.

Her new boyfriend, who did remind her of a modern-day vampire, was proof the love potion was working, and when a girlfriend complained that her husband of five years was lazy and unworthy, Julie stroked her pet until it settled on the page for destroying a marriage.

When the latest October cold front came and the skeletons were once again dancing in the breeze, Julie still did not - even once - consider that she might now be a witch.

Tom Williams is a Marco Islander and the author of two books: Lost and Found and Surrounded by Thunder—The Story of Darrell Loan and the Rocket Men. Both books are available on Kindle and Nook.