A Hag on the Line

We couldn’t have Cal go outside looking like a male stripper in my spare bathrobe, so I went to the neighbors and asked if they had any extra clothes a ‘homeless man’ could have. They were delighted to share, until I mentioned he was a XXXL. Cal was a big guy. Lucky for us, they happen to have a shirt and pants that fit him perfectly.

Well, it was still a pretty tight fit, but it was good enough to give him some modern dignity.

“I feel as if I am a necromancer,” Cal commented while inspecting the many skulls and crossbones pictured on his shirt.

“Sorry, Cal,” I shrugged. “The neighbors used to be pretty edgy.”

Cal thought he was the only one to cause an earthquake in this building? The guy I got the shirt from used to party it up until 3 am blasting death metal. After college he really chilled out and became a youth pastor for a local church.

“Edgy?” Cal’s brow raised. “Like a blade master? Ha ha! I shall challenge him to a duel!”

“Cal,” I put a hand on his shoulder. “His sword is double bladed, and it can divide a soul and spirit, as I’ve been told over coffee and a bible study…” I shook my head disapprovingly. “All it takes is a word, and you’ll be finished.”

“By the gods, what sort of powerful sword relies on a word?” He looked both ecstatic and afraid. “The mighty warrior who wields it must be the greatest of all in your kingdom. I wish to challenge him!”

“Yeah? His name was Paul of Tarsus,” June joined the conversation. “Alright, I used that brick of a landline you keep in the kitchen to call the car dealership and the Horizon store. We can head over there once I figure out the Buber number and get us a ride.”

“Is the number not in the phone book?” I asked.

“You mean that dusty thing from the 90's you dug up out of the closet? No, it’s not. and I am not taking a taxi.” June made her way back to the kitchen. “Just give me a few minutes here while I figure the number out.”

“So… Erm…” I uttered to Cal as June went back into the kitchen to make the call. “You saved my life from that monster. Thank you. It's really amazing to see you here.”

“I would save your life a thousand fold from any enemy,” he replied. “But I’d much rather prevent the danger before it starts,” he kindly kissed my hand, keeping his head low and his eyes closed. “Fair princess, I pray it would be of no offence to speak freely…”

His voice was soft, but his words were stunning.

“Of course, Cal. Say anything.”

“Anything.”

…

“No, I mean say whatever’s on your mind,” I corrected.

“Whatever’s on my mind,” one eye of his opened and he smirked playfully. What a dork. “You seem rather different then I remember. Dare I say, more quirky than in your previous life.”

He's one to talk about being quirky after making a dad joke!

Despite trying to fight the memories, it was starting to come back to me just how different I viewed myself back when writing his story. In middle school, I privately imagined myself as a noble type with a graceful vibe around me at all times. School was like the world, and every person was their own kingdom. Cal was my greatest warrior, and would protect me from the invading nations, which were bullies.

Of course, that couldn’t have been a more distant interpretation of how much a classless, hyper gremlin I was who was always ridiculed. But Cal never saw that girl.

“Does that bother you?” I asked, turning away, trying to suppress the memories of being stuck in a classroom in the back of the school away from all the normal students.

“So long as your heart is pure, I will be yours,” he replied. “But it seems you are clouded by a deep conflict and passion for me.”

I turned back to him with shock spilling over my face. “P-passion?”

“Yes. You’re enticed by touching my greatness,” he flexed his muscles, but they were so big that they actually tore the seams of his shirt! “Curse this weak stitching…” he grumbled. "I fear doing as you have is a bit un-princessly."

“Sorry, Cal…” I nervously laughed while kicking my feet on the bed. “I uh… I don’t get to interact with many boys my age, especially not cute ones.” The last time I was on a date was a couple of years ago before going to work. It ended when my morning alarm went off. “Maybe I have been a little handsy. I don't really know how this goes and all.”

I always saw in soap operas that girls couldn't keep their hands off their men. And don't even get me started on all the couples making out in the hallways of my high school! They got pretty touchy feely.

June’s right. I probably shouldn't have watched either of those things…

“If it would please you, I’d like to earn your favour more properly,”

As he was looking himself over in a mirror, his gaze turned down to my desk where a bunch of old family photos were. His hand hovered over a few of the many pictures, but picked up the center most one.

“This painting… You look exactly like I remember from our childhood,” he said. “But who is this elder with you?”

“Oh, that’s a photograph of me and my grandma playing at the park when I was little,” I pointed to each of us in the picture, as if it weren’t obvious.

“Fodo… giraffe…?”

“Close enough…” I shook my head. “We use a little box to capture moments, like an instant painting.”

He had such a Neanderthal expression trying to understand that. And here I was trying to simplify it! “That magic sounds like the orbs of the evil soul stealing warlocks of Furantur.”

Sadly, I knew exactly what he was talking about. In the story, those orbs would pretty much take the image of a person's soul and trap it inside of a crystal ball. I made that up after people teased me about being 2% Native American. Apparently, some Native American’s were afraid of cameras.

Thanks for teaching them that lesson, Ms. Clamburner…

“So you've captured your grandmother's soul in this…giraffe?” he looked at it with confusion and a tinge of disgust.

“No, my grandma isn’t in that, actually…” I took the picture from him. “She’s been dead for a while.”

I didn’t talk about her much because it made me too sad to remember. She was one of the few people in my life who I was the most happy with. It was a miracle that I met June around the time of her passing, because I really didn’t think I was going to ever find that sort of friend again.

“My grandma was probably the only person to ever read my story. She even helped me write a lot of it,” I smiled, brushing the picture lightly with my fingers. “I never did get to say goodbye to her. What I wouldn’t do to see her again.”

“I got us a ride!” June came running toward the room while holding the corded phone from the kitchen. She accidentally pulled it too far and yanked the whole thing off the wall. “Ah crud!” she shouted as it made a horribly loud thud as the blocky part hit the ground.

“Yeah, that happens a lot,” I shrugged.

“How often do you use this thing?” she questioned. “It must be like a hundred years old.”

It was actually an antique from the eighties. I had it installed because my phone plan came with a landline. So I figured, “why not?” Too bad it's mostly scammers and Nigerian princess asking for my credit card number.

“I call you from it sometimes, but you don’t answer,” I revealed. “And then my mom calls it a lot because I usually have my phone on silent.”

Speaking of which, the house phone started ringing. I picked it up and put it to my ear.

“Hello?” I said.

“Waaah waamp waaa hawwah?”

“Oh, hey mom,” I said. “We were just talking about you.”

“Waaah waaah wahh?”

“No, it wasn’t about how beautiful you are. Hey, listen, we gotta go to the store and get a new phone. There was an EMP that broke my cell.”

“WAAAAAH WAAAAH?!”

I had to hold the phone away from my ear to keep my eardrums from bursting.

“Her mother sounds like the banshees of Clamant, spawned by the Immortal of Winter.” He looked like he had a little bit of an epiphany just then. “Wait…”

Actually, I made those banshees specifically based on my moms screaming voice. The kingdom of Clamant was based on my house growing up, and it was arch enemies with the kingdom of Calidom.

Cal snatched the phone from me and put it up to his face upside down.

“Is this the Hag of Winter?” he growled into the transceiver.

“WAAAAHH?! A WAAH?”

“Yes, I am a boy,” Cal replied in an unnecessarily stoic voice. “I am in your daughter's apartment and she is under my care now, and I will tend to her needs. Let it be known, Hag of Winter, I will not allow you to harm her!”

“WOO WO WAA WEE WA WAAAH?!”

Man, he was just pissing her off to new levels.

June snatched the phone away from him, her face a sweaty mess as she placed it up to her own ear.

“Hey, Auri’s mom… This is June. Auri and I are definitely not doing anything scandalous with that guy. We’re just having a disagreement with the landlord, who is…” she looked Cal up and down, “...schizophrenic.”

“Weeeeh waaah wee?”

June covered up the phone and leaned toward me to whisper. “Auri, have you been taking your pills?”

“Heck no,” I shook my head. Those things made me feel like a zombie.

“She sure has, Ms. Anders! In fact, I saw her take them this morning.”

Thank goodness June was smart enough to calm mom down. Anytime I tried to do that, mom just got even more upset.

“Mmm-kay, Ms. Anders. Talk to you later.” June hung up the phone, then carried the whole set back into the kitchen. “Wait, how were we talking to her when it wasn’t even plugged in anymore?”

That was actually a good question, but I had a better one for Cal.

“Cal, why did you call my mom the Hag of Winter?”

“I would never forget the voice of my arch enemy!” his teeth clenched and his eyes filled with fury.

“Wow,” June spoke up. “Already here a little over an hour and he’s managed to call me and your mom a witch and hag.”

I could vaguely recall creating a character in my story named the Hag of Winter… And I even kinda remember modeling her off my mom. But any more info than that was kinda a blur. Regardless, I had to defuse the situation before he attacked her on sight.

“Cal, my mom isn’t actually a h… isn’t this hag your referring too,” I said.

“If you insist, fair princess, but I will remain on guard in case your claim is false.”

"Good enough for me, I guess," I shrugged, nervously laughing.

With that, we all went outside to wait for our Buber driver to arrive. That poor guy sure was going to have a fun time getting around the police blockade.

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