That was the one that did it. One by one, after Andrea's story, those of us who hadn't yet undergone our transformation into Indigo Children, aka Star Children, aka Crystal Children, did so. Okay, we weren't kids, but "Indigo Adults" doesn't have the same ring to it, so bear with me here.
The changes came with a storm of light, a show to rival anything New Trump City could muster on even its most depraved nights. I'm certain a stargazing Trump-possibly plotting which planets he wished to pervert next-stared in wonder at the baby-blue night sky, the stars blotted out by the magic we were making. I'm sure he felt a dribble of pee run down his inner thigh, cutting through the liquid gold painted over his body.
Back to our transformations:
"I can dance!" Seth shouted, tap-dancing like he'd been born and raised a tap dancer.
"And I can fly!" Coltrane shouted back, soaring through the sky above like Superman (before he got cancer and had to quit smoking, thus losing all his superpowers).
Murv, as you already know, became an English-accented intellectual. Applauding, he said, "Marvellous show, old beans! Cheerio!"
A party-fiend in a different way now, Dirk had his ability to turn beer into candy.
Rid of her speech disorder for good, Ruby Tuesday could talk for days without shutting up.
Andrea could create swarms of bees with her thumbs. I'm not sure where that one came from.
Dear old Dora-Mae-due to a stroke before we'd met-had already received her powers, enabling her to knit at the speed of light. That's why she was so fast at making all of our sweaters. She could also identify our favourite person or animal.
Mr. Hardon could read minds. "Jesus, you're thinking of how much you love us, aren't you?"
"You got me, Brick," I told him, grinning. I'm not sure what my power was-perhaps I'd been granted it long ago, and it involved communing with the Lord?
"What about you, Passionfruit?" Seth asked her. "Can you walk again, girl?"
And the answer to that was a resounding no, as that would imply her need of a wheelchair somehow made her inferior and in need of improving.
"Bitch," she said, "I'm telekinetic now. Watch this." Somehow, Passionfruit was able to brake without using her hands, and make the wheels spin so quickly that smoke and fire blew out the back of her chair. She took off like a bat out of hell and rode circles around us 'til we got dizzy trying to keep up.
Passionfruit enjoyed the praise we showered on her.
But we still had our job to do: Tell happily-ever-after love stories and beat Trump back to whatever biker-bar toilet he'd spawned from.
It was Ruby's turn. "When I was mute, I started developing a fantasy world that I lived in. I created many stories to keep myself company, and this is just one of them... It's called
TILLY'S CANDLE by LBKeen
The bell rang above their heads as they entered the shop. Tilda had seen the little store of witchcraft every time she'd taken the long drive to Murray, Kentucky to get her sister, Becca.
"Wow!" Becca said, staring at the wall of shrunken heads. The glasses holding them were tall and clean.
In truth, the inside was far more promising than the worn, cabin-like appearance of the outside. At twenty-six, not much surprised Tilda, and to be truthful she never would have stopped if her twenty-one-year-old sister hadn't insisted on it.
"Tilly, check this out."
Turning her attention away from the large shelf of little drawers-with different names like "wolfsbane" and "clover" carved into each one-she gave her sister an incredulous look. "Becca, take it off," she said, shaking her head in mild amusement. Becca had somehow gotten the mask off the mannequin next to the shrunken-head display and was now wearing it, looking horrifyingly like something from a teen scream movie.
"Can I help you?"
"Ah!"
Both girls jumped and spun around to meet the annoyed expression of a short-haired emo teen. She frowned, then regained the bored look that most teens seemed to perfect in their dreary days of high school. "Can I help you?" she asked once more, her apparent vocabulary not including the words "I'm sorry." She wore a long black sweater which revealed the shoulder, but that had been pulled together by safety pins. Her black hair screamed Matilda.
Tilly ran a hand through her thick, tight curls, letting out a nervous laugh. "We actually were just loo-"
"My sister and I want to try that love-spell thing!" Becca cut her off.
Tilly gave her an annoyed look, clearly demanding to know what her sister was doing, but Becca-with her brown eyes wide-simply mouthed "What?" and returned her attention to the teen. "We don't seem to have the greatest luck in finding the right guy, so- I figured we could use a little bit of help."
"Help?" the teen repeated, looking them both over slowly. Tilly wondered what she saw in her overly large grey sweater and sweats. Her eyes flashed for a second-it was so quick Tilly was sure she imagined it. The teen sighed. "Fine, follow me." She turned on her heel and led them to the back, her hands stuffed firmly in her pockets.
Becca glanced at Tilly excitedly. "I think this is gonna be fun."
Rolling her eyes, Tilly shoved Becca's head sideways. "You always think that, and yet I'm the one who's always cleaning after you."
Sticking out her tongue, Becca scoffed, "You know you love it."
"Yeah, whatever you say."
They followed through the shop. Oddly it seemed like the inside was far bigger than what the outside had them believe. They walked past candles big and small, towers filled with liquids, and glass containers of different-colored stones. Tilly felt apprehensive about where they were headed. In fact, as they arrived at the back, she wanted to say they couldn't stay any longer, but held her tongue as she felt she was being paranoid.
The teen pushed aside a thick velvet curtain, revealing a room filled with sparkling candles covered in glitter. The range of color was magnificent, and made both sisters gasp. Each candle had something carved into it, each a different design. The spectrum of colors made Becca snap a picture on her phone.
"So what kind of love are you looking for?" the teen asked, as she walked over to the altar and grabbed four sticks of incense candles from the top. The smell was so sweet it made Tilly crave apple tea. The teen went to table in the middle of the room, where a dish sat at its center. Under the dish was blue fire, and surrounding it were many little dishes-including some containing glitter. The teen placed the tips of all four candles into the blue fire, then placed them in the dish. They burned slowly, the smoke swirling in the air. She lifted her eyes to Tilly and Becca. "There are many kinds of love out there: passionate, possessive, heartfelt, and... darker ones." She smiled slowly. "Which do you both desire?"
Tilly thought hard, her eyes going to the plethora of candles, and though she didn't believe anything would happen, she decided she could at least take this seriously. She hadn't had any luck in the dating arena, every male was simplistic... boring. She never felt that spark. Still, she hadn't exactly left the town she lived in; traveling here and there, sure, but she hadn't ever done anything exciting.
Her eyes stopped on a candle in the far corner-a mixture of dark greens and reds. It seemed almost out of place, with its gold-and-silver glitter around the base, looking like flames. She pointed. "That one. Passion and adventure seem fun." She looked to Becca, who now held a pinkish-blue candle. "What do you think?"
Becca, pulling her eyes away from her candle, saw where Tilly pointed and nodded. "Yeah, I like it."
"Well," the teen said, a pleased look on her face, "I think you both have the kind of luck many would envy."
The two shared a glance before Tilly gave her a sheepish grin. "Luck in everything but the lottery, apparently."
The teen took Becca's candle, then walked to the corner and grabbed Tilly's candle. She lit the two candles and set them inside the bowl.
They watched the candles slowly melt.
Grabbing parts from here and sprinkles from there, the teen added them to the dish. She smiled at the girls, her face suddenly ageing. She grew taller.
The two women backed away.
"And now... now, my dear girls, the magic starts to make its change. But be aware: When your choice is made, the weavers will rend the old and start the new, but... be gentle; the men are innocent, too."
"What?" Tilly asked.
"I don't feel so good," Becca said.
Shocked, Tilly turned her gaze to Becca, but before she could say anything, she found herself feeling dizzy. She fell forward into a dark unconsciousness.
**
A week later...
"Tilly! Did you bring Mr. Calvin his tonic?!"
Tilly looked up from her book. She was in her room. She hadn't felt the same since they'd awoken in the car the previous week, no memory of what they'd been doing before they'd stopped on the side of the road. Standing, she pushed away from her desk. Opening her door, she yelled out, "No, I'll take it right now!"
"Thanks, and wake your sister up! She's going to be late!"
Sighing, Tilly glanced across the hall at the door covered in pictures of rock-band logos and warning signs. Ignoring them, she walked over and pounded on the door. "Hey! Brat! Wake up! Time to earn your keep!"
Hearing a loud bang and a curse, she figured her sister was up and ready to go. Turning, she headed downstairs, only stopping in the kitchen to grab the silver container from the counter as her mother continued cleaning the greens in the sink.
"And tell him it won't be coming tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am," Tilly said.
Grabbing her coat and hat, she headed out into the Tennessee winter. Mr. Calvin lived right up the street. Kind at heart, he was an older man who'd helped her family out after her own father had passed away. So Mom had started making him something for his pained joints and easy-to-chill body.
His house was bungalow-styled and freakishly clean out front. Walking up to his door, she lifted a hand to knock, but the door creaked open on its own. A ripple of uneasiness went down her spine but she didn't turn away. Worried about Mr. Calvin, she pushed the door open.
"Mr. Calvin?" she called, entering the house. She didn't hear anything. Walking deeper into the house, she tiptoed towards the kitchen. "Mr. Calvin, I brought Mom's tonic for you... I'll just leave it in the kitchen..." Entering the kitchen, she paused when she heard something slam into the wall. Jumping, she went to turn, then screamed when her gaze met two fiery eyes. Her heart rate accelerated and she felt her world spin.
"Ah-ah. Don't you dare."
A hand shot out and caught her before she passed out. Her eyes widened.
"I don't know why you humans always react the same," the gruff voice said, though it wasn't gruff in an unattractive way. In all honesty, the man was quite attractive. It was the ears and his many tails that were throwing her for a spin... Was he a-
"Fox?"
The man blinked, his eyes narrowing on her. "What do you know of foxes?"
Realizing she'd spoken, and that she was still being held by the creature, Tilly jerked back and stumbled away from him. "I-I don't know anything!" she exclaimed, blinking rapidly. "You- You don't exist." She rubbed her eyes. "I'm dreaming. Definitely." She turned her back on him, searching for an answer amongst the shadows on the ceiling. "But why a fox-man?" she muttered.
A hand grabbed her shoulder and jerked her around. He was glaring at her. "It's not a dream," he growled, his eyes flashing. "How dare you dismiss me as such."
She frowned. "You can't be mad at me... It's my dream." She raised her chin, challenging him. "If you're really a fox-man... Go ahead and do something-I don't know-do something... foxy!"
His teeth clicked and he flipped his long, braided hair over his shoulder. "Fine, I'll prove it."
In a quick movement, not only did Tilly find herself no longer in Mr. Calvin's house, but she wasn't sure where they were because she wasn't seeing any of the houses from her neighborhood. In fact, as she looked at the large structure before her, it was definitely reminiscent of something Asian. She turned on the fox-man: "What did you do?!"
He flicked imaginary dust off his shoulder and smirked. "Something foxy."
"You-!" Before she could rail at him, they both jumped in surprise when they heard someone shout: "Master Kitsune!"
Turning around to see who'd yelled, Tilly wasn't prepared for the fox-man to reach out and wrap his robes around her, pulling her hard against his body. Her heart thumped, and her breath stopped. She could barely see through the white silk robes, but she could hear.
"Master! The elders wish to see you! They want to hear your choice now!" The voice was low at first, but went higher as it continued speaking, as if at any moment the speaker would pass out. "They greatly hope the one you dreamed about will show up soon!"
"Let's not talk about that here."
Tilly grimaced, trying to straighten up. She cried out when he pinched her in the side and then wrapped his hand around her mouth. She growled, ready to take a bite out of it.
"Tell the elders I'll be right there," Kitsune said, as he wrestled with the wiggling mass under his robes. "Hrm. I- I have to stop by my, um, room first."
"Ah. Yes, sir."
Soon there was a rustling, and Tilly found herself staring into the angry red face of Kitsune.
"Why couldn't you stay still?!" he asked, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.
"Why did you have to shove me under your robes?!" she rebutted with her nose wrinkled, brown eyes demanding. Her cheeks slowly turned red as she pulled away from him. "I- You didn't have anything between me and your..." Flushed and shy, she motioned to his body.
Realizing what she meant, he smirked at the knowledge, tilted his head, his ears wiggling just so. "Hmm, and here I thought you'd be more... used to it."
"What? Why would you think that?!"
He simply stared down at her, not saying anything.
Feeling flustered under his focused gaze, she turned away. "So... Can I go home now?"
Instead of answering her question, he grabbed her hand and started walking off.
"Wh-Where are you taking me?!"
Not responding, he dragged her around the corner of the large building and, looking both ways, he climbed the steps onto the landing circling the building. He opened the door to a large room. He slung her forward, and Tilly eyes widened when she felt hands catch her.
"Make sure she's ready when I return," he ordered before he turned, his nine tails flicking in the air.
"Wait!" Tilly tried to run after him but it was impossible-as the invisible turned visible. She found herself surrounded by ghostlike maidens, all wearing intricate robes of different colors. They floated around her, pulling at this, yanking at that. Despite her protests and attempts at escape, the maidens had their way-her clothes were switched and her makeup done.
She now wore a heavy white robe and a three-layered kimono. Staring at her painted face in the mirror, she was still confused, unable to comprehend what was happening to her.
As the maidens led her through sliding doors, she found herself being walked through a hallway filled with floating lamps. She came to the end of the hall. The hands left her arms and the door opened.
Before her were three roads, two of which were lined with precious stones: one of diamonds, another of rubies. The last one was simply a dirt path.
Nothing else but a sword lay at her feet.
"If you wish to return home"-Tilly flinched when she heard the voice-"you must pick a road, and once on it you must prove yourself mighty."
Scared and unsure of which path to take, Tilly bent down and picked up the sword. The shiny paths versus the darker one. She looked at the diamonds and marveled at how clear they were, but something made her unsure about them. The rubies were all too similar to the angry color of red, which she hated. So, looking at the dirt path, she thought about her life. She wasn't a diamond in the rough, nor a bright shining star-she was steady and trustworthy, just like the well-beaten path... So she swallowed her fear and took that one.
As she took the first step, the ground shook and heaved, causing her to hold more tightly to the sword. It was by great luck and expert hand that she didn't drop it. The path wound and rolled, going on for what seemed like miles.
When she came to the end, she let out a heavy breath, still holding the sword tightly in her right hand.
"Now what?" she asked, finding herself staring at three piles: one of sand, one of mud, and the last of needles.
"Each pile carries a possibility," the echoing voice said. "Sand-that's easy, but never stable. Mud-that's stable, but easily swallows you up. And needles-painful, but can be endured."
Tired, Tilly looked at each pile, trying to think of which one to dig through. She licked her lips, as she'd grown thirsty on the long walk. Hearing something chime, she watched as the piles shifted back, revealing three cups. Below the cups were labels, on each a written word. The first one held a cup of sparkling soda, the second immortality and the last water. After revealing this, the piles shuddered and returned into place.
Tilly couldn't help but wonder what kind of dream she was facing. She knew water was pure and the least likely to hide anything from her. So if she had to endure pain for it, she would. She boldly stepped toward the needles and, taking a deep breath, she shoved her hands into it.
Biting her lips against the scream that would have inevitably escaped her, wriggling her fingers through, she grabbed the bottom of the cup and jerked it out. Her hand was covered in blood, but she lifted the cup to her lips and drank deeply.
Taking pleasure in the sweet taste, she lowered the cup-only for it to drop from her hand and disappear into the darkness that circled below.
A wave of vertigo hit her and she turned around to see the fox-man. "Kitsune?!"
His eyes were covered, and his hands and feet were bound. He'd been tied to a plank of wood and he looked miserable.
Tilly stepped towards him, upset by the sight of her kidnapper bound in such a way. He wasn't so bad.
"Kill this man and you may go home. Do not, and you will continue this journey for eternity."
Tilly glanced at the sword in her hand. So that was why it'd been at the beginning of the path. Her fingers tightened on the handle. All these tasks had merely been a means to an end, a means to push her towards this one final choice. "If I kill him... I can go back home?" she asked.
The voice was cajoling. "Yes, dear, a simple and easy task. After all, he dragged you here."
Sighing, Tilly looked from the sword to the bound fox-man, and, lifting the sword, she aligned it with his chest. "Fine, I'll make a choice."
She could feel the anticipation in the air, and felt thoroughly happy when she lifted the sword away from his chest and slammed it on the ground hard enough to break it. She shouted: "There! I made my choice, and I'm willing to deal with the consequences!" She put her hands on her hips. "That's what makes me different from others. I never regret or second-guess my choices... After all," she said with a grin, still speaking to the hidden voice, "that's what makes life so much fun."
Long arms wrapped around her, the gruff voice whispered in her ears, "I always wanted a wife filled with passion."
**
"What?!" Tilly jerked up, her eyes wide as she searched her room. Squinting in confusion, she stared at the candle that had fully melted in the tray by her bed. Letting out a sigh, she fell backwards on her bed, her eyes staring at the ceiling. Her dream had been interesting... and filled with passion... Hers, anyway.
"Shh, I want to sleep longer."
An arm appeared in view, rested on her, pulled her closer. Peeking up, she saw fox ears, followed by a handsome face.
He snuffled and said, "Forsooth, I always told that witch, 'Happily-ever-afters are boring.'" He opened one flame-colored eye and smirked before he closed it. "But since our wishes led to this... I believe it's an alright ending."
Tilly turned her head and simply closed her eyes, quickly returning to sleep.
"Some wishes can be answered if we merely look within ourselves."