Working Holiday
written by: Karen Southall Watts
@askkaren
Evelyn was in the corner sipping a local Pinot Noir watching the tourists down cocktails with names like Witches’ Brew, Hangman’s Hooch, and Puritan Punch. Even after a hundred years of watching them, humans still made her laugh.
The bartender gave her a sign, and she focused on her mark. Halloween in New England brought out the drunks, the tourists, and everyone else. It was that last group that kept Evelyn from enjoying the fruity, earthy wine as it deserved. The liquid turned sour on her tongue as she watched her mark across the room.
He was handsome enough, with a geeky-sexy librarian vibe. Evelyn watched as he bought round after round of drinks for a group of barely-legal women dressed as witches and fairies. They’d clearly be combing glitter out of their hair for days. As the group got louder and drunker, Evelyn knew her opportunity was fast upon her. She breathed a little spell onto her ring. The tiny pentagram carved into the red jasper glowed gold for a moment. She was ready.
The festively costumed sea of young women parted as Evelyn crossed the room to her target. Suddenly remembering boyfriends they needed to call, appetizers they meant to order, or makeup that needed a touch-up, the group dissolved.
“Hi, I’m Evelyn.”
Knowing that she would appear as her mark’s ideal partner, Evelyn wasn’t surprised to get a stammering invitation to buy her a drink in response. She smiled.
“Well, I don’t fancy sharing you with all these partygoers. How about we go somewhere more private?”
The man practically dislocated Evelyn’s shoulder dragging her out of the pub and into the sharp night air. She continued to bat her eyes and laugh at his jokes, as she realized he was guiding her towards the cemetery. She stopped him short to whisper in his ear.
“Let’s go to my place.”
The delicate graze of her lips on his ear and smell of wine and spice in Evelyn’s breath made him throw all caution away. Just as she had planned, he followed her like a puppy waiting for a treat to the old part of town.
“Here we are.”
She made a great show of digging the key out of her purse, and spilled salt across the doorway while her companion was distracted by her figure and his fantasies. Evelyn stepped inside and waited.
As soon as the man crossed the threshold a deep growl, followed by an agonized scream, rattled the windows of Evelyn’s old house. The demon, who had been using the man as bait, was ripped out of his body. It sizzled and melted into the floor.
By the time the paramedics arrived to take the man to the hospital for a suspected heart attack she’d scrubbed the mess away. She offered the emergency workers some candy from a decorative cauldron by the door. A night off indeed.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
For some, Halloween is all about being who you aren’t for one night. For others, it’s about being who you really are without fear.
- Spotlight On Writers – Karen Southall Watts - November 2, 2024
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