“I guess that’s something to think about,” Glo said. “The spell could have been a coincidence. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try my new spell out on him. I know he has some aggression issues, but he’s kind of interesting. I’ve been following his blogs and tweets. He knows a lot about old castles and poison and medieval torture.”
“Lovely,” Clara said. “What every woman looks for in a man.”
“He might be stopping in this morning for me to de-fart him. Just don’t let him touch anything edible, and keep him away from sharp objects,” Glo said.
A half hour later, Hatchet walked in. He was wearing a black-and-silver tunic, black tights, and beat-up Nike running shoes. He had his sword at his waist, and he looked like he was seven months pregnant.
Mrs. Weintraub was selecting a dozen cupcakes for a birthday party when Hatchet got in line behind her and farted.
“I’ll take six chocolate and six strawberry,” Mrs. Weintraub said to Glo, pretending not to have noticed Hatchet.
Brrrrrrrp.
Mrs. Weintraub sneaked a peek over her shoulder and saw that the noise was coming from a medieval minion. This was unusual, because most of the crackpots in Salem were dressed like witches and werewolves.
“Goodness,” Mrs. Weintraub said.
“Pardon my flatulence and bloat, good woman,” Hatchet said. “A curse has been set upon me.”
Glo handed Mrs. Weintraub her box of cupcakes. “No charge,” Glo said. “You should leave before they suck up the farts.”
“Farewell,” Hatchet said to Mrs. Weintraub.
“You gotta learn to control yourself,” Glo said to Hatchet.
“I need not control. I need relief from this vile bag of gas and stench.”
“I hear you,” Glo said. “I think I found something. It’s a broad-spectrum antidote to whatever ails you. Stand in front of the counter and do what I tell you.”
Hatchet stood at attention.
“Begone, begone all manner of enchanted suggestion,” Glo read. “Evil eye and witches brew, charmed touch, tainted blood, foul drugged sleep forever leave this vessel, this Hatchet.” She snapped her fingers twice. “Turn around three times and clap your hands once,” she said to Hatchet.
Hatchet turned around three times and clapped his hands once. We watched and waited. Two minutes passed. No fart. We all breathed a sigh of relief.
“It worked,” Hatchet said.
“I was supposed to seal the deal with powdered frickberry, but it’s on back order, so this might not last forever,” Glo said to Hatchet. “Just come back if you need a refresher spell.”
“Very well, but before I take my leave, I must purchase a red velvet cupcake.”
Glo put one in a bakery bag and passed it over to him. “Sorry about tackling you last night, but you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. That’s really rude.”
“My master is on a holy quest, and I am honor bound to help him in any manner.”
“Has he figured out the riddle yet?” I asked.
“None of thou’s beeswax,” Hatchet said. “But I will say this . . . we will succeed where you will fail. And now I must be off to do my master’s bidding.”
We watched him swish out the door with his bakery bag, and Clara lit a scented candle and sprayed the shop with air freshener.
“That was impressive,” I said to Glo. “The reverse spell worked.”
“It would have been even better if I’d had the frickberry. And I was supposed to throw a pinch of ground salamander tail over my shoulder when I read about the tainted blood, but obviously it wasn’t important.”
“Oh boy,” Clara said.
“It wasn’t as if he had tainted blood,” Glo said. “At least, none that I know about.”