14. The Witch And The Wedding Ring

THE WITCH AND THE WEDDING RING

I/One The God Xerguss once was permitted to create his own world by his own design, with his own people. It came with a few conditions, however: the world had to be relatively diminutive, almost a trivial size, and its citizens could never be intelligent enough to build spaceships that would interfere with the other god's pet projects. He was quite delighted to comply with these standards, and built a world that was horizontal, and very small. On it he put lovely grass and trees, blossoming roses and a grand lake with several streams. He put a city there, and modeled it after and American northeastern metropolis. He named it Gladella, and filled it with people. In accordance to the way that Gladella looked, its people felt that they were living in the Victorian era. Now, he sat and watched the people, like the other gods, and fell in love with their mortal drama. For some time, he became particularly engrossed in the fate of a young man named Donny. Xerguss said to his fellow God Millus, “Come and see what has just happened to this man!" in an excited tone. Reluctantly Millus watched as Xerguss recounted the events that Xerguss had just witnessed. This is an account of Xerguss' favorite drama:

II/Sixteen A small candle was all that illuminated the master bedroom where Donny laid delirious from sickness. He was sweating, coughing, wheezing, and occasionally he threw up in a pale at the side of his bed. Tiffany was at the side of his bed, tentatively looking at him, and then breaking into sudden hysterical crying fits. Donny was too weak to comfort her. She saw the ring on the desk, and she knew what would become of him, and become of her.

III/Two Donny was sitting in front of his favorite café, The Golden Post. He was a fair man, young, not twenty-five years old. He was tall, slender, and his muscles were well defined under his semiproper suit. He had dark hair like coal, and a well-groomed goatee of wiry black hair. His eyes were green like young leaves glistening with rainwater. They spoke also of his burdens, the decisions of his future weighed heavily on his mind. Yet it was still a good day. The sun was out, but it was not burning, rather, it was warm and comforting. The clouds were small, like wisps of smoke coming from some unseen pipe in the sky. There was a small breeze in the east, which rustled his morning paper gently.

He was reading the Gladella Gazette, because an editorial about the railroad had captured his present capacity for paying attention. Once he was finished with it, he turned his attention to his coffee. It was such a rich and dark brown that he would have called it black. It was just as good, if not better than every cup he had all the mornings of his years. When he was nearly done with it, he started to smoke down his pipe tobacco, blowing little clouds of smoke that navigated their way around the patio umbrellas until they escaped to the sky and disappeared. The street around him was no longer busy now, that the workday had started. Just as he was thinking that he would be left alone to finish his pipe and coffee, he was approached by a young woman, maybe fifteen years old, maybe younger. Her eyes were green like his, and her hair was black like his. She was wearing a light green dress buttoned all the way up, with a black lacey material coming out of the top and bottom. He quietly observed her for a moment, blowing smoke in her direction, trying to elicit a reaction. Then she took a few steps closer to him and talked at last. “Excuse me sir, are you Barbara's fiancé?" she said in her small voice. " Perhaps, perhaps I'm about to get married to the love of my life," he said, " Perhaps I'm a single young man looking for something new." “Well, which is it?" she asked. “It’s up to you, really." He said and smiled. “This isn't entirely appropriate. I'm looking for a man named Donovan. Are you he?" “I’m sorry; indeed I have not been appropriate. I am Donny, all right. Did Barbara send you here?" said Donny. “Yes, she sent me about the candles. She said you would be here drinking coffee and smoking at the Golden Post… Why are you not at work?" she said. Donny proceeded to lift his left leg onto an adjacent chair, and then roll up his pants part way. A wooden prosthetic leg was there in place of the hairy skin that she expected. “Can’t work." He said and frowned. “That is too bad." She said, and then started to fumble with a loose bag that she brought with her. She took two candles out of it. One was a tall, fat, maroon candle with three wicks. The other was a slender vanilla colored one that was like a dinner candle. Both of them were beautifully inlayed with cress crossing Celtic designs. “Well those candles certainly are as beautiful as you are, as I expected." Said Donny, hoping that would go over well enough. “Why, thank you," She said. “Which kind would you like for me to make for your wedding?" she asked. “The red one I suppose," Then he motioned for her to sit down, because she took a step back to leave. She complied, if not reluctantly. “Tell me your name then, sweetheart." He said. “Where were you raised, Donny? In the South? Did you lose your leg fighting those damn Yankees?" she said, laughing. “No, you sarcastic little devil. Besides, the southerners are gentlemen, I think. Come now, tell us your name."

“If you have to call me something, call me Tiffany." She said. “Alright Tiffany. Would you like some coffee?" asked Donny. “I’m much too young to drink coffee, Mr. Donny, certainly you know that." “Too young? Infants are too young for coffee, maybe. But you, you are a woman, aren't you?" said Donny. “Maybe," she said, "all right then, I'll have a cup. But then I must be on my way." Then as if on cue, a waiter came out of the double doors of the Golden Post, and attempted to smoke a cigarette. Donny snapped at him before he could light it. “Bring us two cups of the house blend, my good man, double quick." He said, and the waiter rolled his eyes. He reemerged with a tiny tray and two steaming cups of the black liquid. Once they were quietly sipping the coffee, he ventured a question. “I need to pick out her wedding ring," he began, "but I haven't the greatest taste." “Oh, well, truly I'm sorry." said Tiffany. “Well surely you have taste enough to show me what I need to get her." He said. “Maybe." She said. “How would you like to go ring shopping with me this afternoon? I could certainly use your opinion. Do you have any plans?" asked Donny. “Well, no." “Then it's settled, you'll go with me! Just after this coffee is finished."

IV/Ten Frederick was reading a newspaper in his living room, and quietly enjoying an old tune that was playing over the phonograph. There was gentle feminine tapping at the door. He rose and budged it, the wind pushing against his overworked muscles. Barbara was standing in the doorway slumped, her mind visibly draining her. “Hello there Barbara. To what do I owe this pleasure?" said Frederick. “Your brother was very upset last night… I ought to speak with him." said Barbara. “All right," said Frederick, "but don't stay here long enough to be out at night." He opened the door wide enough for her to step inside. She walked upstairs to Donny's room. He was lying in bed, limp and seemingly helpless. He sat up and looked at her, his black hair falling into his bright eyes. “I am sorry Donny." said Barbara plainly.

Donny just chuckled, and wiped the grain from his eyes. “You are sorry then? I am sorry too. We are all very sorry." He said. “Please don't mock me. I'm trying to apologize." She replied. “All right then Barbara, we shall carry on. No hard feelings." Donny said. “Thank you." She said. “It is my pleasure, love." He said, and held out a hand, motioning for her to sit next to him in bed. She promptly did so. “Look what I bought for you! I picked it up this morning." He pulled the drawer of his bed stand open and retrieved the wedding ring. He pulled her frail fingers open and slipped the ring on. She gasped in approval. “It is so beautiful! How did you afford this?" “Well, I had a small amount of savings left." He said. Then Barbara's face crumpled. She said, “I have a headache." And fled the room just as suddenly as she had come. Donny rolled over and went back to sleep.

V/Five Tiffany looked at her sister for a long moment before she said anything. “Am I stupid to like him?" asked Tiffany. “Well isn't he engaged?" asked Adrian. Tiffany's face wrinkled when she heard the word engaged. “He certainly was abrasive for an engaged man. I can tell, you know, that there is something about him that wants out of the marriage." answered Tiffany. “What makes you think that he would want you once he broke off the engagement? He probably would want to go to the pubs and womanize every nice young girl he met." said Adrian. “It’s possible… But he likes me. I know he wants to take care of me." Said Tiffany, but there was not a present conviction in her voice. “Then what do you propose we should do to encourage him to break off the marriage?" “What do you mean?" she asked. “I think you might know what I am leaning towards…" There was a pause where Tiffany was mulling over the possibilities. The thoughts in her head were like caged animals pacing to and fro. Murder, perhaps? Well, she didn't want to go to jail. To seduce him, maybe? He wouldn't outright let her. She would have to think of a way to get rid of Barbara that would not be obvious. This woman had to go. Adrian looked at Tiffany as if she could read her thoughts. “A curse would be good. To make her deathly ill would be best." said Adrian.

“You know what the laws say. It will come back to me three times." said Tiffany. “Don’t be silly. You will be fine as long as you do something good for three other people." answered her sister. “Well, how can we do it? The candles possibly? Or the dress?" asked Tiffany. “No. Do the obvious. Curse the ring." answered Adrian. “The ring?" “The ring." “Alright, let's do it." whispered Tiffany. “Be patient. This isn't the place to do it. At home we will." There was a jiggling of the back door's handle. When Adrian opened it up, a man of large stature was taking up the space that the frame enclosed. “George?" said Adrian and tried to smile. Tiffany shrank against the wall. Adrian did the same when he hesitated to respond. “Woman!" he yelled. “You kept this damn shop unattended, again?" “No, no! I have only just been back here for a moment." whimpered Adrian. “Is that why you have been reading? Is that why you have a book, woman, hmm? Answer me!" yelled George. She didn't answer him. So he took the book, and with a raw display of power, he tore it in half. Then he threw it at them. They screamed together like children. “Quiet up that screaming!" he roared, and then backhanded Adrian. She recovered quickly enough to block him from Tiffany when he lunged at her. She pushed him away. His eyes glared at them, as if he intended murder. Yet, just as quickly as he had turned violent, he seemed to calm down. They looked at him in terror for what seemed like a long time. “Go home," he said, “I will lock up." Adrian kept Tiffany close to her as they passed George. They walked together out of the shop and into the street. The stars were out and the moon was shining. It was cool and lovely. Their moods were now considerably defeated. “Here you were talking about a curse! You see what happens when you upset things?" said Tiffany angrily.

VI/Thirteen A great amount of time passed and there still wasn't word form Barbara. The people all inquired of his wedding, why it hadn't come, what happened, and so forth. Yet Donny pressed on, in love with Tiffany, just a girl, but so much more to him.

There was a knock at the door of his brother's house. It was his house now, but he still hadn't let it sink into his sense of normality. At times he missed Frederick, at other times he did not. Donny went to answer it, and promptly panicked when he found that Barbara's large older brother George was standing in the doorway. “What is it?" Donny immediately demanded, but before an answer could be made, he blurted out, “How is Barbara?" George shook his head and a look of pure despise came across his face. “She’s sick… About to die. It's your fault! You and your little witch!" he said, and forced himself into the foyer. “What are you talking about? How could I possibly make her sick? She hasn't said anything to me in half a year! And who is a witch? No one here is a witch!" replied Donny. “Ever since I let her sister run the shop, things have changed… They're witches. All of them. And it's those, those, those, evil things, that have caused this to happen to Barbara!" George withdrew a revolver and pointed it at Donny. Flabbergasted, Donny raised his hands. “You and I," began George, “are going to duel. You will die like a man, and pay for my sister's life with yours. That's that." “That’s ridiculous! I'm not responsible for Barbara being sick! And neither is Tiffany! You know this." said Donny. “I you don't accept we can end this right now!" said George, stepping forward to press the gun to Donny's head. He began to sweat and blush. “Have it your way then." Said Donny, and regained his composure.

VII/Eight The restaurant's walls were like a gray stone of a castle somewhere far away across the Atlantic. Only candles lighted it, and the rest was a darkness that was as comforting as a night's sky. Donny and Barbara sat together at a table that was drawn away from the others. A violin was singing a song that reminded Donny of home on the farm. He remembered the way his father played his violin at the end of hard days. Barbara was sitting quietly, enjoying the food more than Donny's presence. He remained with a stare at the flickering candle in font of him. He was thinking of her, of Tiffany. He wished he could be eating with her. “What are you thinking of?" asked Barbara, when she noticed how he was looking so blankly at the candle. Donny thought for a moment about what lie he would tell, but for one reason or another, the truth came from his lips. “I was thinking of the candle maker for our wedding. She met with me this morning." He said. “What’s to think about?" asked Barbara, frowning.

“I um, uh, I couldn't make a good decision on the color. She put all of these strange markings on them. I just don't know which one to choose." He said. “Indeed, you don' know which one to go for… Perhaps neither?" she asked. Donny's eyes shone with the fear that she could read his thoughts. “Well, I just, I don't know- there are so many things, and it's so close." “Oh, so, let's just call it off then!" she said, upset. “No, no, that's not what I meant!" he said. “Oh poor Donny! He's so stressed about the candles! I have planned this wedding from the ground up, without your help! And the second I ask for an opinion, it gets to be too much!" Barbara's voice was raised. “That’s not what I meant!" he yelped, and then they sat silently, frustrated. Suddenly, Donny felt a sensation he had not felt since his parent's funeral; He was crying. As the violin played a gloomy song, his life flashed before him. He saw his father work his hands to the bone, he saw his parents together, side-by-side in the grave, the fresh rain blooming flowers on their mounds. He thought of Barbara's parent's words, how they stayed so deep in his heart. He thought of their relationship; how wonderful, pleasant, and perfect she seemed. He saw how time had changed her, how it had crushed her spirit until all she wanted to do was lash out at someone to express how angry and boring and sad her life had become. He wept. The gasping sobs erupted from his mouth. At last he put his head down and cried into the tablecloth. Barbara stood and left him there, her face red with embarrassment.

VIII/Three The street was filled again around noon, with the wives and sisters of men who needed food from the market but did not want to go there themselves. The children were playing in the streets with the latest trend in the pet world, orange and black lizards from deep within the Mallinian star system. The jungles had always managed to give forth some strange new life form with mediocre intelligence. It would find itself stowed away, and brought with a spy into Gladella. Donny took Tiffany with him to look at various shops to no avail; she did not like any of the rings that he showed her. The clouds had rolled back, and the sun was full, bright, and beautiful. The strings and brass of the Africans could be heard coming from the shaded porches of small shops. Old men were playing dominoes as the kids ran by with their lizards. In the distance the whistling of a train could be heard as it departed, never to return. The florist's assistant came by all the corners to display lovely roses in pots that were waiting at each intersection. Donny smiled at Tiffany when the florist came by, and to his surprise she gleefully smiled back. It was simply too glorious of a day to be in a bad mood. “You know, there is one more jewelry store you could try. My sister Adrian works there." said Tiffany. “Well, why didn't you say so before?" asked Donny, pretending to be upset. “Oh, well, my goodness!" she said, and sort of pushed him away by her shoulder, and she let her hand slip down and lock into his. He held it there for what seemed like a very long moment. Her

hands were so fair, and soft, skinny, yet nurturing all the same. He wanted to hold it for a year, and tell her at every moment that he would protect her- that he would shelter her from the mad world out there, and the only thing that she would have to worry about was what color of flowers to put on the table. Yet he did not tell her any of these things. He only looked at her longingly for a moment before she pulled her hand back to herself. He swallowed very hard because his mouth had run dry. He did not notice it at first, but his heart was beating at a rapid pace, and it seemed to cease when she pulled her hand away. “It’s just around the corner." She said after a hesitation. They found a shop that was full of rings, necklaces, earrings, as well as some other unidentifiable bits and pieces. On the wall there was a giant painting of a pentacle in white against a black background. On the other wall there was a much smaller painting of a triquetra made out of leaves and other materials. In order to get inside, one had to walk through thick ruby red drapes that hung in the doorway that split in the middle to allow for admittance. To Donny, the place seemed rather odd, and even a little frightening, but in the context of her surroundings, Tiffany looked much more at home. “If you will find her a ring, it will defiantly be here." Declared Tiffany, and then slipped into a back room, where Donny was afraid to follow. So he looked around for a while, and at length, he found a ring that he thought was gorgeous. When Tiffany went into the back, she found her sister Adrian sitting on a stool and reading a book. “Baby sister!" exclaimed Adrian. She jumped up to give Tiffany a hug. “Hello!" cried out Tiffany. Then they were settled. “I’m with a man right now and I think he wants a ring." She explained. “Which man is he? Someone new?" asked Adrian. “No, he's the one who wanted the candles for his wedding. You got the telegraph from his fiancé I think." She asked. “Oh that fellow? He seemed strange… The candles they wanted were strange." said Adrian. “He is strange… he has a wooden leg." laughed Tiffany. “Well, whatever you like. Married men, engaged men…" said Adrian and sneered. “It isn't like that. I'll be back soon enough." “Alright then." Said Adrian, and waved to her as she stepped back into the main part of the shop. Donny had the ring in his hand. “I should very much like this one." He said, and put it in her hand. She brought it up to her face and admired it. It was a perfect sapphire set in white gold, with designs of flowers etched into the band. “But I don't have the money to pay for it today. Perhaps I'll get it tomorrow and pay a bit extra to have it reserved for me, right?" “Of course." Said Tiffany, and dutifully gave the ring to Adrian.

IX/Twelve

Time passed quickly, as it had before, and there still wasn't any word from Barbara. Donny didn't have much desire to go to Barbara's house and check on her, as she did for him. His mind was preoccupied as it was, with his little secret. Frederick knew Donny's secret, but no one else. Each morning, Tiffany would travel from Adrian's home to Frederick's. Donny would cook her breakfast with Frederick's food and have fresh flowers put out for her. They spent the afternoons walking, playing music, or throwing horseshoes. One Saturday they went to a baseball game together. At last Donny decided to tell Frederick what they had been talking about, sometimes, secretly before Tiffany went home. “Frederick! My good man…" began Donny, “I have good news." "Yes?" Frederick. “I’m going to get Tiffany to come and live with us." He answered. Frederick's face crumpled. He put his hands over it, and sighed deeply. “I don't think that would be entirely proper, not at all… not at all." “What? Why not?" demanded Donny. “Don boy, if you bring that juvenile in here to live, I will leave and the mortgage will be yours. I don't want anything to do with it." Said Frederick. “Fine, then, have it your way." said Donny. Though he wouldn't think it would happen, when Tiffany's place became permanent, Frederick simply packed and left. Tiffany wouldn't admit it, but she was glad that he was gone. This meant that Donny would have to find work as an unskilled and disabled man. It was, to say the least, not easy.

X/Seven Donny took his time getting himself together at his brother's house. He had a hot bath and the wrapped himself in a towel. After his bath, he had hot tea to warm his insides to the temperature of his outsides. His best outfit was to be worn whenever he took Barbara out. It wasn't a particularly good suit. The pieces were all from different ensembles. The coat had a clear and crusty stain below the right pocket. It was lengthy walk over to her nest of town; it was the same walk that Tiffany had taken to meet her as well. At length he reached the front of the manor. The lights in the window indicated a false since of a warm home, yet he knew what strange company he was about to be in. “You are a fool.'" He whispered to himself. Behind the crusty jacket his heartbeat began to steadily rise in anticipation. He approached the doorway, telling his brain that he was calm and collective.

Donny rang the doorbell, and there was shuffling of feet that came to answer the door. It was Barbara's father. He was an older man, but not yet lost to extreme old age. He had a hardened face that showed either the stress of hard work or perhaps the true shape of his evil. They simply looked at each other for a few seconds. “We don't want to buy anything that you are selling." said the man. So Donny turned his back to him, and took a few steps down the walkway. Barbara came through the doorway after giving her father a scowl. “Donny!" she called cheerfully. He turned and looked at her despairingly. “Can we go?" he said, “Can we just go, and skip this process?" “No Donny. Come on. They're not that bad. Give them a little time." begged Barbara. Donny looked at her stoically for a moment then said, “Time is what kills all things, slowly. Why should I give time to anything?" “You really wore the crusty coat to see my family?" she said. “It is a proper suit." He defended. Barbara was his age. She was taller than him, and stunningly beautiful by most respects. Her hair was like the blonde locks of angels, and her face was like golden sunshine. “Let’s go inside." Said Barbara, and she guided him up the path and through the front door. “Good evening Dr. Barrington." said Donny, despite the remarks of the man. “Good evening!" he said, trying to keep his composure. After a moment, Donny sat down on her couch in the living room, trying to make himself comfortable. Barbara stole away to some unseen place upstairs. Donny had to infer that she had not yet finished getting ready. She only had all day, he thought. Doctor Barrington fixed himself a drink, and then sat down on the loveseat across from Donny. Mrs. Barrington, with an old face that had seen it all, looked at Donny with an unfocused gaze. “Look at this house Donny… Do you like it?" she said. “I think it is a lovely house indeed." He replied. “It represents the hard work of my lineage. Hard work you'd probably know nothing about." She said. It made her husband laugh from somewhere deep in his chest before coughing. “Did you ever imagine a farmer's son would want to soil our lineage with his agrarian blood? What a sad day!" said Dr. Barrington, and took the liquor down in one draught. “Well Donny," began Mrs. Barrington, “If you think this house will belong to you after you are gone, you're gravely mistaken. You ought to go back to your farm." “And leave out daughter alone," Dr.Barrington added, "so that she may find a proper husband."

Barbara walked down the sweeping staircase in a long gown. Her parents shut themselves up on her arrival. Donny had swallowed his pride for a lengthy stretch. It took his pride's emergence for him to stand up and take her arm. He took her out of the front door and walked with pride in his heart all the way to the restaurant.

XI/Four Donny strolled home, his thoughts dwelling on the girl he had met. It was still quite a beautiful day, and the honeybees came out to enjoy the flowers that had been put out. It wasn't a long walk from the shop. His brother kept a tight little house in good order. Nothing was ever strewn about or put in the wrong place. There was player piano tucked against the wall, and a cushioned bench next to an end table with a telephone. Of course there were couches and chairs centered around a coffee table. When Donny knocked there wasn't an answer, so he let himself in. He labored across the room, went to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a drink. Shortly after, the sun started to set, and his brother came through the door. He was a tall man, about thirty-five or so. He had a big brown beard and moustache that curled out on the ends. He looked much the same as Donny, apart from the brown colored hair. His eyes were also deeper set into his head, and less revealing. “Hello Frederick!" said Donny from the couch. “Hello there Donovan! Drinking up your old fool of a brother's liquor, are we?" said Frederick. “Maybe," said Donny, “Maybe I'm just trying to ensure that I will be able to endure this evening's test." “Horse shoes then?" asked Frederick. “Very good." They walked outside to the back yard. The wind had changed direction and was coming in cooler and drier. The crickets had begun their song of the night. The mossy tree that overhung his back patio seemed to be dancing in the wind to a forgotten old song that the moon had once sang for it. Donny admired the oranges, pinks, and purples that the setting sun was showing. He could see Polaris under Xerguss' fake Earth sky. They leisurely tossed horseshoes and made fun of each other's misses. “You know that I like having you here Donny, but I have to tell you, I think you need to go back to work." said Frederick. Donny's mind scrambled over the question. “Well, I… You want me to smelt iron and catch my leg on fire?" answered Donny, rather cleverly, or at least he thought. “No, no. You could go to work in a factory. They pay you good money to sit there and put things together, you know. When I was your age father had me breaking my back." said Frederick. “He had us both breaking our backs when you were my age, and I was at no age to be working so hard." “Well I do hope that you consider getting some work, easy work at that rate. I do feel bad about it being my fault about your leg and all… I just don't have the money for two, Donovan."

“I will think about it." answered Donny. “Well think about it really hard." said Frederick. “Can I talk to you about something else, Fred?" “Sure. What's on your mind?" He flung a horseshoe at the stake and it crashed into the fence instead. “I have met a beautiful girl today." said Donny. “Congratulations there friend," Frederick smiled and shook Donny's hand mockingly, " but don't you have a fiancé?" “I do, but the girl I met… I think she is better, a lot better, and beautiful." “Now how old is she?" asked Frederick immediately. “Fifteen or so. I'm not entirely sure." “Fifteen is too young! You need to marry Barbara. She has money, little brother. Money that you need to live well. It doesn't matter if you don't like her. Think of how fat you will get. Think of the suits you will wear. Think of how well I could do for myself once I was alone." said Frederick. “Think of what beggars we both will become, and the shame that I will carry with me to the grave." said Donny. “Think of the shame of courting a fifteen year old, who's barely a woman." said Frederick as he threw another one to the fence. Donny came up behind him and rung one on the stake.

XII/Fifteen Tiffany and Donny were home, relaxing by the fire to fight against the onset of winter. She held onto him tightly, kissing his neck and his lips when he drew them close. He smiled warmly at her. Then he parted from her warm embrace. “Where are you going, love?" said Tiffany. “Don’t worry sweetheart," began Donny, “I’m going to have a nap." She looked at him longingly, but gave up the attempt to keep them together. Just before Donny reached the top of the stairs, Tiffany called out to him. “Yes dear?" came his reply, as he regretfully came back down the stairs. “Can I ask you something?" she said. “Anything darling." He replied. “Do you ever resent me for causing your brother to leave?" she asked. “At times I think about it…" he replied, "but he wanted me to marry Barbara for her money. He almost forced me into it." Then he paused for a minute saying again, “He’s mad at me now

because of you… But Barbara died anyhow. I would have just been a widower… Sure I miss Frederick sometimes, but I didn't make him leave. Neither did you." “Do you miss Barbara?" asked Tiffany. Donny hesitated and looked slightly shocked. “I don't know… I think sometimes in my head I make her out to be a monster that she wasn't… Her parents ruined her." Came his reply. Tiffany clearly looked disappointed. "Go have your nap then." She said. “Is everything alright?" he asked. “Don’t worry about it." She answered, to the great frustration of Donny. He went upstairs and to his old bedroom, which was converted to a minimal study, as they moved his bed to the master bedroom. There he opened the drawer in the bureau and reached for a piece of jewelry stashed away in the back. It was the wedding ring that he had planned to put on Barbara's finger at the wedding. At times he would take it out and admire it, thinking of Barbara. Why had she gotten sick? He thought, would he go through with the wedding if she hadn't died? Then he got mixed up in thoughts of how pretty she was, and how nice she was before the pressure of her family descended upon her. He could have taken her away from it all. As he thought, he slipped on the ring, and looked at it sitting on his finger. Instantly he felt sick. He put the ring on a desk, and stumbled nauseously down the stairs.

XIII/Nine It was late that night, when the rest of the world was sleeping peacefully, that Tiffany stirred from her rest. She went into Adrian's room, and shook her shoulders. Her eyes awoke, and then focused. “It is time." She said, and Adrian rose out of bed. The clouds had rolled over a clear sky and suddenly erupted with rain. Together the gathered the necessary materials. They set an altar in the center of the room and faced it east. They lit four candles, yellow for the east, red for south, blue for west, and dark-green for north. Adrian took her dagger, with Tiffany standing by the altar, drew a circle around them, heading counter clockwise all the while, until the ends were overlapped.

They proceeded with the spell that would curse the ring. Together they chanted ancient curses and held the ring, put it on the altar and mixed it into the cauldron. Anyone who would wear it would fall deathly ill.

XIV/Eleven And how the time flew, to Donny it was not but Sunday when Saturday had come again already. Saturday was a day for walking, a day for him to drag his prosthetic leg to and fro. He often would simply admire the streets, but today he hurried off to the coffee shop, the goal at the end of his road. His brother Frederick had stirred him from his lengthy sleep. “Wake up, lazy!" he said. “You must go meet with your candle maker for the wedding. She said it was an emergency. Then I have set up an interview with a factory head in town. You must meet with him too." said Frederick. “I’ll meet with the girl." said Donny. Frederick rolled his eyes. Donny dressed and made his way into town. It was a few blocks through the lovely little shops until he saw the short and fat coffee shop sitting on the corner, with the bistro tables and chairs resting slightly in the street. Tiffany was sitting on one of these chairs, with a nice maroon dress on, a corset squeezed her already tiny figure, and her petite breasts formed a hint of cleavage that Donny could not stop eyeing from a distance. When he approached, she smiled at him warmly. He took her hand and kissed it politely, but couldn't ignore the pleasure he took from touching her skin to his lips. The nerve endings in his plump lips were firing and he nearly shuddered. “You wanted to see me again?" he asked. “Yes," she began and hesitated, and then she said, “I had such a lovely time with you last time that we walked." “Is that right?" inquired Donny. “Yes, I thought we might go again. How about it?" said Tiffany. “Of course. Which way should we go?" said Donny. “I thought I might show you where I like to walk now." She said. So she stood, and he took her by the arm. They traveled together a couple of blocks passing up quaint buildings with a few fat proprietors smoking cigars outside. This made Donny itch for a smoke and he took out a hand rolled cigarette. He smoked it for a minute, and when Tiffany was sure that no one was looking, she shared a few puffs. It wasn't long before their path diverted into a patch of woods just outside the city. As a witch, it was Tiffany's duty to respect and revere nature above all. Do what ye will and harm none, she

thought. But what had she done? She thought, would she harm too much in the end? Would it come back to her? Donny looked back at her and knew she was thinking about something, but didn't know it was Barbara. She noticed him studying her and smiled. Then she stopped and looked at him. His heart began to race. Her face was like a painting of an angelic Grecian looking out over a balcony. In her eyes was a sad longing for companionship, a naïve disposition on consequence, a curious desire for sex. When he looked at her he felt her energy like ocean waves, pushing out with lust, and pulling in with deep desire. He could no longer stand it; He had to kiss her! Yet the consequences! His cheeks turned red, and there was a rising heat behind his ears. They stood for a moment, both know what was going to happen, but they were both afraid to make the first move. At last he kissed her, his lips pressed against hers with all the passion of the forbidden desire in his heart. They fell together in the glade, the soft grass cushioning their fall. His fingers traced down to her corset and untied it. She threw off his jacket, and tore his shirt open. Donny was free; He had made his decision at last.

XV/Fourteen The morning that George had arranged for the duel was quiet and dewy. A cold air had moved in for autumn. They met outside of town, in the same patch of woods that Tiffany had picked to sleep with Donny for the first time. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Questions of that time swam through his head. Was Barbara really deathly ill? He thought that she had gotten cold feet or simply changed her mind. Where had he lost his sympathy for Barbara? Was it Tiffany or Barbara that really held his heart? There wasn't time anymore to think of these things. George was waiting by an old tree that marked the end of a stretch of trees into a clearing. George had brought a small table on which he set a box containing dueling pistols. They were intricate and old, memoirs of a dead tradition. Politicians had done it, along with other ghosts who had shot each other in the leg or somewhere, limped off and later apologized. He hoped that would be the fate of George or himself. No one should die from this he thought. So his young hands gripped the pistol. He checked to see if it was properly loaded and he had not been cheated. George scowled at him, but his face softened when Donny grabbed the gun. “I’m glad you have the honor to resolve this the right way." stated George. Donny fumbled and hesitated. “Give my love to Barbara then." He said at last. George was confused by this- did he mean after he killed George and he met her in the after life, or after George killed Donny and they both were still alive? “Come and place your back to mine, take three steps, turn and fire." instructed George.

Donny placed his back to George; they took a step and said “One," together. Donny whipped around as fast as was humanly possible, simultaneously trying to dodge out of the way as well as squeeze off a shot. This consequently caused him to aim a bit upward. George's shot came in low, hitting Donny in the prosthetic leg. The wood splintered out with the force of the bullet. Donny's shot nailed George slightly above the right eye, and fragments of his skull and brain flew out into the clearing. George stood there, stoic and statue like, then slumped to his knees, and landed face down in the grass. Donny stood in disbelief for sometime. Then he walked up to George's body, checked the pulse, and found a lingering heartbeat. After a minute, he reloaded the pistol, and came back to the body. After the birds had just resettled on the branches he shot again. Then he dropped the pistol and fled.