Week 04 Story: Gathering of the Year

Gathering of the Year

    

    

    Emity turned off the sidewalk into an alleyway lit brightly from the strung lanterns overhead. The painted black door of the coffee shop stood proudly at the end. H A V E N was stamped in big, bold golden lettering. The brass doorknob was cool against her slightly translucent fingertips.

    She opened the door and walked in. Soft piano music accompanied by the clatter of dishes and quiet murmuring of patrons wrapped around Emity. The last home for her kind welcomed her back. Patrons ranging from spirits, like her, to duwendes to nagas to dullahans sat at tables near windows or at the bar. Most were enjoying the food and drink the cafe had to offer. Emity chose a table apart from the other patrons and sat facing the door. 

    Minutes later a large man with thick black hair and a pencil mustache trundled through the door. His chin was held high with his shoulders back in a way screaming, "I'm better than you!" 

    Emity kept her eyes wide and transfixed. She hated missing it, especially since she only got to see it once every year.

    The man grew. He towered over everyone else. His figure slimmed until he was skinny as a rail. The man's mustache grew into a thick beard and his skin darkened into the soft color of oak. He blinked, and Emity saw the dark brown eyes she loved so much.

    She stood and waved him over. "Herald," she greeted with a grin.

    He smiled gently and kissed her on the cheek. "Hello, my love."

    Emity blushed and waved the sentiment away, trying to pretend it didn't melt her to mush. They sat and gave a pixie their orders.

    "Another businessman needing rehabilitation?" Emity asked.

    Harold hummed. "You know the CEO of Crown? Him."

    Emity scrunched her nose. "CEOs seem to be on the list of late."

    He tilted his head, and there was no disguising the glint of mischief in his eyes. "What happened?"

    "Well, you know the CEO of Pyramid Hotel?"

    Harold frowned slightly. "I know of him." Emity raised her eyebrows and looked away. His frown deepened. "He is the one who is denying all those charges of assault, right?"

    Emity sipped at her hot chocolate. "Mhm, that's the one." She thanked the fishperson for their order. "Not only did I give him a good smack, but I also helped another woman get away."

    Harold scowled. "I'm proud of you, but if I had your job—"

    "If you had my job, they would all be dead and no earthly justice would be served." She smiled. "And if I had your job people would find out I'm an imposter quite easily."

    He laughed. "Yes, that is true. Tell me the story, then, of how you beat him down."

    Emity thought for a moment. "I wasn't called to her, Sarah, until apparently the second night of her stay at the hotel. The prayers of Sarah and Abraham, her husband, were directed toward me. And you know if they're directed toward me it's because someone needs to be whacked with my stick."

    "I believe it's called a club, dear," Harold interrupted with his eyes laughing.

    She waved him off playfully. "A club is just a big stick," she defended. "Anyway, Sarah looked terrified out of her wits by—ugh, this awful man doesn't even deserve a name, so no name he'll get!—terrified out of her wits by that CEO. I was so relieved she could see me.

    "He walked to her but before he made it three steps, I whacked him hard with my stick. A maid walked in right then and saw him trip and stumble as if he were drunk. He tried approaching Sarah again, but I was having none of that, so I whacked him a little harder."

    Amity giggled out the next few lines, too pleased with herself to not be amused. "He just pitched over onto the floor, from the maid's perspective. I whispered to her the idea to pull out her phone and record. She did and now there's a five-minute-long video of the CEO stumbling around the hotel room, knocking everything over with him as he suddenly falls."

    Herald smiled proudly. "It does seem a bit tame though."

    "Well, I was going leave it at that, but then he goes about screaming she's a witch, and then even after that he tried to grab her, and you know, I was just so done with this awful person!" Emity grinned evilly. "I smacked him around some more because what's he going to do, huh? So I waited until nighttime, waited for him to get into his pajamas, waited for him to get into bed, and WHAM!"

    A manticore glared over and shushed her sharply. Emity smiled apologetically, and the manticore went back to their book.

    "What did you do?" Herald prompted.

    "I turned him out of his bed," she said proudly. "Anything he sat on or laid on, I flipped the whole thing over."

    "What about other people?" Herald asked. "Surely he had someone else try the furniture."

    "Of course, but I left them alone." She rolled her eyes. "He even tried having other people lay next to him to see if that would stop me."

    "Did it?"

    "Of course not! I just picked him up and sound him around on his head until he begged to be thrown on the ground."

    "All this in one night?"

    "You'd think, but no, I did it for about a month until he gave up." Emity took a triumphant gulp of her hot chocolate. "He pleaded guilty to the allegations, especially since there was that video of him harassing brave Sarah."

    "You really are something great, my love."

    Emity looked away, feeling all mushy again. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, feeling a red hot blush stain her face.

Author's Note: I decided to retell "The Higgledy-Piggledy Palace" this week. In the story, the main POV character is Sarah, but I thought doing it from the spirit's POV (who's originally male) would be fun. Since I also liked the genie from "The Beggar King" so much, I decided to have him make an appearance as Emity's husband. His power is to imitate people so well no one can tell the difference, so I wanted to give him an un-magic appearance because 1. the thought is cool, and 2. it seemed more romantic to me that way. I also brought it into a modern setting, since I feel like both the spirit and the genie would keep doing their jobs as long as possible since they seem to have fun with it, or I would like to think so anyway!

Bibliography

The Beggar King from Jewish folklore by Gertrude Landa

The Higgledy-Piggledy Palace from Jewish folklore by Gertrude Landa

Coffee Shop Entrance. (Source: Pxfuel)