Subj: Soap Pt.12
Date: 12/5/99 5:50:51 PM Central Standard Time
From: marcos1

Magda had youthful and soft brown skin, hair the color of a night in the country- devoid of city lights- of sheer blackness. She was swimming in a stream, surrounded by a wall of flowers. The flowers were of every color of the rainbow. The air was cool, but not chilling. There was a smell in the air of a rich bouquet of sheer delight. Magda was in Rowena. It was a paradise created just for magical gypsies. Another world entirely, but it existed inside of our world, separate, distinct, but very real. She barely heard the knock on the door. She was lost in a world of pleasant dreams. The knocking disturbed her.

'It must be my partner. Why is he knocking? It isn't even tax time," she thought to herself. She was angry. She motioned with her left hand, and Rowena faded. The beauty disappeared, replaced with old bookcases and a single wooden desk. Her skin started to contract, youthfulness replaced by age, strong bones replaced with brittle ones. She had to create this illusion, no one must know about this special door to Rowena. The 'real world' would only destroy that which they couldn't understand. Paradise was not for mortals. She opened the door, the old joints creaked.

"Magda," the middle-aged man said, "we need your help."

"Yes, please help us," Miranda pleaded.

~~~

Howard Grundy sat watching tv wrestling in his double wide trailer. He was sitting in his favorite chair, drinking beer, wearing nothing but dirty underwear. This was the weekend, his favorite time. His sister Selma was taking a bubble bath. He could hear her singing. She was singing 'Tiny Dancer', her favorite song. He moved to turn up the volume on the television and was just about to tell Selma to shut-up, when he heard the knocking. 'Who could it be?' He was angry. 'Don't people understand that a working man needs to relax on the weekend?' He opened the door, the old joints creaked. To his amazement, in the doorway, stood an old woman, with wrinkled brown skin and black hair. She looked like a gypsy or something. "What do you want? I don't want to buy anything...or donate money...or any of that crap."

"Adam is the son of Barnabas. He ain't killed nobody. And if you think you saw anything...you had better forget it," Magda said and added. "Do you understand me?"

"Look, gypsy, get the hell out of here," Howard sneered, "before I call the police and have you deported or something."

"You don't talk to me like that," Magda said, "I'm a Queen. My people believe in the old ways and have power."

"I don't give a damn about your power," Howard said. He pushed the old woman down the three wooden steps leading to the trailer. She fell into the dirt. "Now, get out of here...before I really hurt you," he said, slamming the door.

Magda sat in the dirt, blood was running from a cut on her right knee. The full moon overhead gave her an idea. "Even those pure in thought, pure of heart, may become a werewolf," she said in anger. "If that is true...then Grundy, since you ain't pure, you become werewolf...no problem."

Selma Grundy came out of the bubble bath. Her hair was in rollers, mustache remover cream was on her face. She heard a growling coming from the living room. What was going on? Had her idiot brother let a dog in? She opened the bathroom door and screamed.

To be continued--