Winston Shady made it a habit of dressing the same every day, an odd habit for a single 22-year-old. Plain gray t-shirt, brown wrangler pants and work boots, an outfit useful for almost any occasion. But when working he always carried an antique medical bag that seemed to carry everything, he would need to from fixing a leaky pipe to holding an exorcism. Because that is how he made a living, barely, as the only occult handyman to have ever existed.
The day started off as a warm spring day, but like most spring days in Spokane the weather could turn on a dime on you. While walking along the downtown of Spokane, the clouds rolled in on him, making him wish he had brought a coat. Scanning the addresses above the entranceways as he walked by them, he couldn’t find where his client would be. That was until he decided to turn down an alleyway that looked relatively clean. Located halfway down, a dingy glass business door with the address painted barely visible on it. New newspapers taped on the inside of the glass blocked his view in. Even the large dirty bay windows next to the door were covered in newspapers. Annoyed that he couldn’t see in, but Winston smirked at the idea of sitting on the inside looking at the scenic views of a dumpster and recycling bins.
Checking his phone for the time, he went to go in, but the door was locked. Rapping his knuckles of the glass, he waited a minute and still no answer. He called the number that texted him late last night, there was no answer, but he swore he could hear ringing on the other side of the door. As soon as he hung up, he could swear the ringing stopped. Then the muffled beep, signifying a missed call sounded.
A drop of rain hit the top of his head making him look up into the sky, “Damn” he said out loud to no one. Looking up between the two building he could visibly see the clouds becoming darker, the rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance.
Setting his bag on the ground and squatting he looked to see if anyone was watching him from the street. Opening his bag and reached his hand into it up to his shoulder. His arm deeper than should be feasible for a bag that small. He rooted around pulling out only three things objects, but he really wished he packed a coat or even an umbrella in it.
“Mental reminder add an umbrella to the bag” he said to himself. He realized that rain was the least of his concerns for some of the jobs he did. An umbrella would come in handy for a lot of situations where disgusting liquids could fall on his head.
A sandwich bag of batteries, the cheap off brand ones you could find in a TV remote. An antique skeleton key that would open up most simple door locks in old homes. And X-ray glasses, like the ones you order from comic books ads with a cheap frame and the red and white swirls as lenses.
Putting the glasses on, he held one of the batteries in his right hand, so his thumb was resting on the negative end and his pointer finger was on the positive side and then touched the battery to the glasses. “Peek-a- boo” he said aloud and with a static shock pop and his pinky twitching, he put the now dead battery in his pocket and blew on his fingertips. Squinting his eyes even though the gag glasses blocked his vision, he could now see through the glasses and the thin paper blocking his view of the inside of the building.
The magic that he just used took three parts. The X-ray glasses were his foci for his magic and represented the ability to see through solid objects. The battery was the source of power he used to empower the spell, converting the stored energy into a magical energy. And third was the magic word he decide for this spell, peek-a-boo. The word, even though absurd was also critical to the spell. It created a mental connection between the desired effect the glasses would perform, and the energy he was draining from the battery and pumping into the glasses.to combine the magical energies and the glasses to complete his spell.
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The key was for the second spell he decided to cast, a simple unlocking spell. If someone were going to be rude and not show up for their appointment, he would be rude and just let himself inside. He also didn’t want to be stuck outside in a downpour because wet socks are the worst.
The world suddenly took on monochrome hues to him. The battery only would power the magic for a minute at best but that should be enough to see if anyone were in the building. The newspapers became barely perceptible, like a faint tinting to the window.
Tables and chairs were stacked carelessly against the back wall of the room, paint cans stacked on the ground in front of them. A cheap coffee maker, microwave, and cell phone on the counter. A painter’s tarp lay haphazardly in the middle of the floor, with a hand sticking out from under it, unmoving.
In some cases, a spirit could become extremely violent and throw things around the room, occasionally striking people. A lesson Winston learned the hard was and why he always wore his hard hat during a séance.
Unsure if the person was alright, he thrust the hand holding the key and battery at the lock. Practically yelling “Open sesame” flooding the spell with more power than he would usually the battery in his cracked open with an extremely loud crack. The lock on the door slammed open violently. Shouldering the door open while dropping the smoking battery on to the floor.
As soon as he barged into the building, he had his phone in his hand prepared to call 911 if needed as he rushed to the body under the tarp. The room reeked of fresh paint and stale beer and snore came from under the tarp, stopping him in his tracks. Thinking that he should go outside and just bang on the door until he woke up whoever was sleeping. He turned around just as a flash of light shone through the newspapers and the heavy rumble shook the air and rain started pouring.
Really needing the money and not wanting to wait out in the rain he decided to brew some coffee for some good faith and just lie about the door being left unlocked. Sometimes it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission as he pulled a chair out of the pile and wait patiently.
His patience lasted about a minute and before he was tapping his foot on the ground to unheard beat. He was feeling a little weird just sitting there not doing anything while someone slept. Looking around he could see paint splattered in weird places and behind the jumbled pile of chairs and tables a swinging kitchen door. Almost as if the pile were being used as a barricade and the paint cans were placed to act as a booby trap alarm.
As soon as the coffee started percolating the smell permeated the room causing the man under the tarp to stir. Coughing loudly, Winston was signaling to the man that someone else was also there. The man didn’t even react to the cough, he just the grunted and groaned as he stretched, then lifted a leg letting out a long greasy fart.
“Hey Jace, get me a cup of coffee. You wouldn’t believe the weird shit that happened last night. It’s definitely not some asshole breaking in and messing with us” he said ignoring the fact that he had pretty much dutch ovened himself.
“Sorry I’m not Jace, I’m Winston, the handyman you texted me late last night” Winston replied.
The man under the tarp jerked up quickly to his feet, tossing the painter’s tarp off. Spinning to face Winston, “How did you get in here?”
“Sorry the door was unlocked” using his thumb to gesture at the door “and I let myself in when it started to rain.”
Grabbing his phone off the counter he checked the time. “Oh man, sorry I was sleeping, I must have missed your call and my alarm” he said. “I’m Isaac by the way, you want a cup of coffee?”
“I’m good, thanks” Winston replied holding up his hand and shaking his.
“Cool, because I feel like shit and only have one clean cup” Isaac said pulling a coffee cup from below the counter pouring coffee in it. Isaac looked over to the piled-up tables and chairs that blocked the doorway and took a long sip of coffee. “I think I might be wasting your time, but I have heard about you and what you do.”
“Ok so why do you think you need me to do then? Winston said happy that he wasn’t here to just snake some toilets.