You don’t plan to fight with a wizard in a laundromat. It just happens.
I drove my Dad’s old Black ‘69 Mustang Fastback into the grocery store plaza. How did I forget to buy meat for the barbeque? So stupid sometimes.
There were several other businesses nearby such as a pizza parlor, laundromat, and liquor store. As I drove past the liquor store I noticed a tall black man in a trench coat walking the same direction I was driving.
When I say I noticed him I don’t mean I saw him, although that’s true. A nauseated sensation in my gut amplified as I rolled by him. At the last second he faced me and our eyes locked. Chills assaulted me but I shrugged them off. Ever since my sister died I knew supernatural things were real. I’d done my best since then to suppress my newfound awareness of the dark creatures lurking in the shadows. He wasn’t doing anything, I was just frustrated.
I looked for a spot in front but had no luck. Parking in the back of the lot, I slammed my door and ran inside. I looked at my watch. “Dang it!” Only ten minutes until the preliminary fight started, and I wanted to catch all of it.
I located the meat section but a plethora of choices ambushed me. I had to choose between buying discounted meat on clearance because it would go bad soon or buying the more expensive, delicious meat that was already pre-seasoned. Since I was in a rush and dinner would already be starting late, I picked the pre-seasoned meat and headed for checkout. This grocery store wasn’t up-to-date yet so they didn’t have self-checkout cashiers. And the available cashiers were backed up. Great. Just great.
My unease lingered this whole time. But I tried to ignore it and kept telling myself I was just feeling overwhelmed because I was rushing to get back to start the meat and watch the fight.
I reached the front of the line, declined the plastic bag they wanted to give me, and hurried to pay in cash. I didn’t pay attention to the price because my mind wandered elsewhere. When they handed me the receipt I groaned realizing it cost a lot more than I intended to spend on barbeque meat. Whatever. It was too late now. Time to rush to Mom’s.
As I drew near the car the sense of wrongness grew stronger still and I looked around and happen to glimpse the tall guy in the trench coat walking into the laundromat. I told myself I was messed up for racial profiling and jogged to my car, fumbling for my keys, then started it up. I threw it in reverse and promised myself I’d get to my Mom’s ASAP. Being at the back of the parking lot I should be able to simply exit another way to get home. But for some stupid reason I drove by the laundromat.
I noted that trench coat guy barred the door and that there was a young woman, a quite fair and attractive twenty-something year old I might add, facing him. In the milliseconds that I observed them, their body language showed that they were at odds with each other. What the heck was the guy trying to do to that lady? Hold up. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a helpless woman. I wasn’t gonna have it rest on my conscience that I just rolled by and did nothing. A parking space opened right in front of the laundromat. Of course. Not when I need to shop but when there’s a damsel in distress, of course a spot’s open.
I pulled into the parking spot and hopped out. My heart pounded fast and that feeling in my gut grew ten times worse. There was something supernatural about this guy. Part of me thought I was being crazy, that I judging the book by its cover, that I was reading the situation wrong. But another part of me deep inside believed that this guy was more than he appeared on the surface.
As I approached them, I saw that he held a long staff. Not a stick, not a cane, but an actual staff. It was no Gandalf staff. The onyx finish seemed to absorb light altogether, and it might pass as a martial arts weapon, but it wasn’t a walking stick by a long shot. Weird. A second ago he didn’t have that. The lady was arguing with him and had a slight grin on her face. They spoke slightly above a normal volume but anyone could tell they weren’t exchanging pleasantries.
“Everything okay here?” I said in a gruff sounding voice like I meant business.
The guy barely turned his head to look at me, eyeing me out of the corner of his eye. “Back off kid, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Stay out of our business,” he said.
I glanced from him to her, gauging what to do next.
She must’ve seen the confusion on my face and hers changed to desperation.
“Please help me,” she said, “this man’s harassing me.”
“Mind your own business, kid. This isn’t your fight.” Again he didn’t even look at me but kept his eyes locked on the woman.
The word fight stuck out like a sore thumb. It sounded wrong. Was he intending to beat her?
“Please,” she pleaded. She wore a white leather jacket with grey jeans with stylish holes in them. Her skin was just a shade darker than the jacket but there was no denying her beauty.
“Look, dude,” I said, “stop messing with her or it’s about to go down.”
It got tense. That strange sensation became stronger and there was no doubt in my mind it emanated from the guy holding a staff, who was apparently about to fight a young woman for no reason.
If he would not move I’d have to do something. I resolved that if it needed to escalate to violence I would go there, to protect this helpless lady.
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“I won’t tell you again, kid,” said the guy. “Back off. The situation is under control. You’re about to mess things up.”
The woman looked at me, eyes wide, a silent pleading for me to help.
I walked up and grabbed the man’s staff.
The moment I did, three things happened.
A jolt of raw energy flooded my body. Next, the man twisted his body away from me and tore his staff out of my grip.
I had no way of expecting the third thing. The woman jump kicked the guy’s face. I’m not exaggerating. He flew out of the laundromat and onto the asphalt, rolling over several times before he stopped moving and his staff fell to the ground.
To say I was shocked was an understatement. I mean, the lady wasn’t much taller than me but she had just power kicked a guy three times her weight. If something was wrong when he said the word fight, it was all wrong now, especially when the woman backhanded me and I flew into a washing machine, denting it. The side of my face where she hit felt like I had hit a brick wall.
She was a damsel, but she wasn’t in any distress. I realized then that the wrong feeling I had was clearly misdirected.
“Foolish mortal, you consider me too weak to handle myself?” She then left me leaning against the dented washing machine and strode in confidence out to the parking lot to finish the guy.
I tried standing but was sore all over. I watched as she grasped him by the jacket and swung like a shot putter, launching him through the front window. Then she quickly advanced through the gaping hole she created.
At that moment, something inside me snapped. Though I had seen this lady manhandle a grown man, I knew I could take her on. As she moved to kill, I felt power and raw energy coursing through me.
She bent down and lifted him by his throat and pinned him against the wall. He struggled to breathe. I pushed energy from within my chest to my left hand and it emanated with a kind of green energy. Intertwining lines danced around my hand, almost like Celtic knots. I kid you not. Before I could question what was happening, I balled my fist and threw a punch at the lady.
Energy unleashed across the room and hit her square in the chest, flinging her to the ground.
Don’t ask me how I did it because even I didn’t know what I was doing.
Now before you judge me for shooting a blast of energy at a woman, just remember gender equality. Plus I’m pretty sure this lady wasn’t entirely a lady. At least, that’s how I justified it in my head.
Either way, my energy blasted her. I looked at my hand in amazement and the magical energy fizzled out. The strong lady, however, did not fizzle out.
But she did flicker.
I don’t have any other way to describe it. For a moment she was a Forever 21 model, but when she flickered I glimpsed a young woman with sunken eyes in a tattered white dress. The image was burned in my mind, but it vanished as soon as it happened.
She looked right at me, opened her mouth wider than any woman should be able to physically open their mouth, and screamed. It wasn’t a plea for help or a desperate cry. This was a sonic blast that rocked my soul. The remaining glass in the laundromat on the windows and on the washing and drying machines shattered, and for the second time I was knocked back and smashed the drying machine.
While I reeled from the impact, the tall guy recovered. He stood, held out his hand and the staff whisked through the air to him like he was Darth Vader summoning his lightsaber. As soon as the staff was in his grasp, purple magic amassed itself around him. The she-demon lady thing looked from me to the other guy, then turned and bolted.
I half expected him to give chase and when he didn’t I was surprised. He released his power and it fizzled out as mine had. Then he slumped on the wall, letting it support him and hacked out a whooping cough. After a few moments he turned to me.
“You’re a wizard,” I said.
“You’re an idiot. I told you not to interfere. Now look what you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry man, I…”
What was I gonna say? That I assumed he was giving the lady trouble? Because I did think that, and was totally wrong.
“Did the Guild send you?” he asked me. “No, they wouldn’t have sent you. You’re too young. Are you training to be a Shepherd?”
Guild? Shepherd? What the heck was he talking about? “Look, I don’t know who or what you assume I am but I don’t know anything about a guild or sheep,” I said.
“Awe crap,” he said. “What’s your name, kid?”
“My name’s Sean O’Farrell and I’m not a kid.”
“Mine’s Nehemiah,” he said, nodding. “You figured I was trying to hurt that lady, didn’t you?”
I shrugged. “From where I was standing it sure looked like it.”
“Well, it’s partly true. I was gonna hurt her…she’s not a lady though.”
“What was she?”
Nehemiah scowled. “Aren’t you Irish? Can’t you recognize a Banshee when you hear one? She needed to wash blood from an article of my clothing to give me some serious Bad Luck. That’s why she was here,” he said, waving his arm to encompass the laundromat. “There’s not too many natural streams nearby.”
I did not have a clue what he was talking about. I could only guess that if I knew more about Banshees it would make sense. My knowledge of Irish mythological creatures was rusty. I know, I know. Give me a break. I’m Irish American. The only things Irish about me are my hair, my love for fighting, and corned beef hash with potatoes.
I felt I should admit my strange ability to sense things to him, considering all the things that had happened. “To be honest, I had this weird feeling that led me here. I can’t really explain it.”
“You sensed Bad Luck and came to see the show. Great,” said Nehemiah. “Let me guess, you have never used your Luck before.”
I shook my head. “My what?” And then I realized he meant my power. “No, I didn’t realize I could do that.”
Nehemiah coughed. “That’s because you couldn’t until you touched my staff. Figures. The one person who grabs my staff…”
It seemed like he would chase after the Banshee but he shook his head. “She’s got a head start now. And the sun’s setting,” he said to himself. “You really screwed this one up, kid. Excuse me, Sean.”
Despite the abnormality of everything, I needed to get back to the fight and prepare dinner for my family. My mom would wonder where in the world I was. “If it’s the same to you, I kinda got to go.”
As I moved past him to leave, he put a hand on my chest. “Go straight home and stay inside for the rest of the night.”
I nodded, not sure what he was getting at.
“I’m serious,” he said, “stay indoors.”
“I got it. Do you think I’m stupid?” I shrugged his hand off.
He raised his voice after me as I walked towards my car. “Don’t meddle again, Sean. Leave this stuff to the experts.”
Cop sirens wailed in the distance. I gave him the thumbs up. There was no way I’d get involved in this sort of thing again.