SpellFixers-All your spell fixing needs

“You’re late for work again, Whitney” my manager chirped at me, while perched on the end of my cubicle. His black feathers slightly ruffled. I swear, crows can nail the angry bird look far better than the other shapeshifters around the office.

“I know, Blake, I already got a snide look from everyone else on my way over here, so you can save your reprimand for someone else.” It wasn’t just looks I had received on my way to my desk. I even heard Hester mumble something under her breath.

I’ve never heard a bird be able to nail a heavy sigh, but Blake somehow passed it off even if it was through a beak.

“Whitney. Listen to me. You’re good, but you’re not that good anymore at what you do- “

Did he just say ‘anymore’ about my work?

“Be a team player. Everyone else shows up on time, and no one is slacking off. Don’t roll your eyes at me- “

Oops, he saw that.

“Get logged into the queue, and work the cases as they come in. No cherry picking. No shortcuts. Got it?” He cocked his head to one side, staring one big black eye right at me.

“Yes sir. But I want to” but before I could get out my request for coffee, that black crow cut me off.

“No. Get in the queue and work it. When it is clear, then you can get some more coffee. Yes, more. I can see your cup in your hand.”

Ugh, I forgot to hide my travel mug.

“Fine. I mean, yes sir!” My sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed. He let out a loud CAW, stared at me, then flew back to his office.

I could hear a few giggles from the other cubes. Damn witches, they should just keep to themselves. Whatever, I know I’m better at these magic help desk calls than any of them, so they can just giggle away their jealousy.

I logged into my SpellFixers workstation. Yes, that SpellFixers, the one that helps careless witches and warlocks figure out why their spells went wrong. Clearly, we’re not to be confused with the SpellFixers grammar service for college students and their essays.

The screen finally came up. There were a dozen calls waiting in the queue for my team, each with a name and problem. Hester had assigned herself a case already, so I was glad she found something else to do than to watch me.

I looked over the top unassigned cases on the screen. Each listed the caller’s name and issue:

Agnes: Sleeping spell didn’t work on husband – Nope, not going to get into that issue.

Dottie: Need lost item spell for keys – No way, lost items take too long.

Margaruite: Glamor spell failed still not famous.

I knew the glamor spell would be easy, and hopefully time consuming to run out in the morning. I clicked on the queue and connected my headset.

“Hi Marguerite, its Whitney from the SpellFixer hotline, how can I help you?”

“Good morning, Whitney. My Glamor spell didn’t work.”

I pictured in my mind some conceited teen witch, pouting in her room on this call. “Let’s see if I can help you, what were you trying to do and what happened?”

“Well,” the teen said exhaling loud and dramatically, “I did a glamor spell on myself to be even prettier than my natural beauty I have,”

Vanity seemed to bubble up through the phone line.

“-and it isn’t working. My number of followers hasn’t gone up at all in three days! How am I ever going to be famous if no one is following me?”

“I see. So, Margaruite, did you just cast a glamor spell, or did you cast one with it for success?”

“But I’m pretty, that makes me a success!”

“I’m sure you are dear, but you must put those good looks to work. What you need to do is cast a success charm on your webcam. That should help drive people to see your website so you can wow them with all your cosmetology skills.

I heard Margarite let out an excited little scream! “I didn’t even think of that! Thank you! Now I’m going to be famous!” She disconnected.

“Thank you for calling SpellFixers. Call us anytime you need help with your spells!” I said to absolutely no one.

The crystal ball on my desk lit up bright red and smoking. It was Hester, upset with me as usual.

“I knew you’d take the easy one first.”

“Good morning, Hester.” No matter how many times she started in on me without even a hello, I always answer her this way.

“Take the lost keys one like you’re supposed to. I’ll even send you the incantation to help your laziness since you still like to cherry pick the cases.”

“Now, now Hester, there is no reason to be rude to me. I’ll take the keys; I don’t need you managing me.” Sigh, I really didn’t need this first thing in the morning.

“If I were managing you, I’d put you in your place. Short cut is in the chat box if you want to continue coasting, slacker.

The ball went from red to clear. She cut me off before I could muster a response.

Whatever, I thought, I’ll take the missing keys and milk this call while she gets stuck with the other cases.

“Hi Dottie, its Whitney from the SpellFixer hotline, how can I help you?”

“Whitney, I cannot find my keys. I need to go check my mailbox.”

At eight in the morning? I thought? This witch sounded elderly and well past her prime.

“Ok Dottie, so you need a spell to return the keys to you?” I imagined she was living in a gingerbread house, waiting for those lost kids to come wandering in from the woods.

“Oh, that would be grand. Yes please!”

I was about to pull out my spell book, then saw on the screen that the chat box had the spell Hester sent over earlier. Whatever, I thought, I might as well use her unwanted assistance.

I opened the chat box and read over the spell. It wasn’t mine, but close enough.

“Dottie, do you have a small box that we can use to cast the retrieve spell on?

“Sure, dear. I have a little box that my father used to keep his tarot cards in.”

“Perfect! That is just the right size.” I told her to recite the charm to make her keys appear. She placed her hand over the tarot card box, and I could hear her repeat the spell in her raspy voice:

Object lost and out of place,

Bring it forth into this space.

When that which is lost is finally shown

The space it keeps in will have grown.

I could hear rustling from the other end of the phone, followed by a delighted little laugh.

“Oh my, the keys appeared in my box! Thank you!”

“Of course, Dottie, thank you for calling” but before I could finish, Dottie interrupted.

“Oh, and my earrings are in here now too!”

“Excuse me, Dottie, you have other things appearing in the box?” I didn’t expect other things to appear.

“Yes, dear! My old earrings! I lost those years ago! And, oh, wait, my knee socks!”

Socks? I thought? How big is this tarot card box?

“Dottie, there are socks in there. How?”

“The box got a little bigger so it could hold my socks. And, oh my!”

“Dottie?”

“My shoes! My ballet shoes from high school are in there now!”

I didn’t like the way this was going.

“Dottie, can you leave the stuff in the box?”

“Why would I do that? And, OH MY!”

“Dottie- I need you to listen- “

“Mr. Whiskers is in here! My cat from when I was just a girl! I missed you so much Mr. Whiskers!”

“Dottie, how did the cat come out of that box?”

“Oh, the box keeps getting bigger. I’m going to push it onto my porch so I can get out my beach umbrella.”

“You’re what?” I was beginning to panic.

“My giant blue beach umbrella. I lost it at the beach with my husband when we were at Coney Island and a windstorm blew it away.”

This was not good. The box was growing more lost items were appearing.

“OH MY!”

“Dottie, you need to stop taking things out…”

“My giraffe! My dad said he had a giraffe for me when I was a baby, and it ran off! Its poking its head out of the box!”

My mind raced. A giraffe? I tried to keep my composure.

“Dottie? Leave the giraffe alone and step away from the box!”

“OK, I’ll get in the box. I can pet my baby better that way.”

“What? No, Dottie, stay out of the box! Dottie…Dottie?” I glanced up and saw the other witches popping above their cube walls like meercats.

The phone line was dead.

I grabbed my crystal ball, so I could see what was going on at Dottie’s house. Instead of the image of the house, a giant bird head appeared.

It was Blake. A very unhappy Blake.

“Whitney, fix this. I warned you about shortcuts. I’m sending in the warlocks.”

The two brooding looking warlocks suddenly appeared, as I continued to try and scan Dottie’s house through my crystal ball. All I could see was a giant box in her driveway, with a giraffe head poking out next to it and munching on the trees above her driveway.

“This is not good. Not good. Not good.” Why was I repeating myself aloud? Like everyone didn’t already have disdain for me up until now.

The warlocks each grabbed one of my elbows and said “time to go” in unison. I messed up horribly and was now risking exposing the coven.

POOF.

In an instant, the three of us materialized in Dottie’s driveway, behind the box and out of sight of the road.

Hulking warlock one waved his hands and mumbled a spell to render the giant box hidden from non-magic eyes. Warlock two coaxed the giraffe off to the side. The last thing I needed at this point aside from Blake squawking at me was going to be an angry HOA woman screaming about exotic animals and violations.

OK, I thought, now we’re getting under control. The box is hidden from view, and the giraffe is out of sight-but no Dottie.

I thought I had a great idea: If I get the giraffe back in the box, it should start to undo the spell and get everything back to normal!

Without consulting the warlocks, I started a levitation spell to get the giraffe back into the box. But, before I could finish lowering him in, there was a loud crash in front of us.

The HOA may not have appreciated giraffes, but they had no problem with gold carts zipping down the sidewalk. The golf cart slammed right into the invisible box and dumped the driver onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, the driver wasn’t hurt. Fortunately, the giraffe didn’t break his leg when he dropped the last foot or so into the box.

Unfortunately, there were now TWO giraffes sticking their heads out of the box and munching on the trees. What did I do wrong?

As I watched the growing chaos, I heard a magpie on my left, sitting on the mailbox and laughing in a distinctly human (not magpie) voice.

“How’d that spell work out, Whitney? Take another easy way out?”

Dammit. It was Hester. She did this to me!

“I didn’t do anything, Whitney,”

Darn it, she’s reading my thoughts-

“You didn’t have to take the spell. I warned you about coasting, and you still did it.”

I pointed at the magpie, furious and embarrassed at the same time, “you set me up!”

A blackbird landed beside the magpie, “CAW! No, I warned you, too, and you didn’t listen. You have one hour to clean this up. If I must, you’re going to find yourself without magic, and working in a call center for extended car warranties.”

My heart sank. Yeah, I did this to myself.

“One hour, Whitney. Start with the basics and fix it.”

The birds flew away.

Blake was a pain as a boss, but he did know how to drive home a point. I realized, yes, this is my fault, because I did exactly what he told me not to do. This was not my finest hour.

However, I wouldn’t make it my last as a witch, either. I’m not going to be beat by my own vanity.

I had a flash of insight. Blake said, “start with the basics.” He was giving me a clue, and a way out.

This all started with the spell that I accused Hester of setting me up with, what was that spell again?

Object lost and out of place,

Bring it forth into this space.

When that which is lost is finally shown

The space it keeps in will have grown.

Well, the lost objects did come into this space. Check

And the box grew as each were taken out of the box.

But, when I put the giraffe back in the box, two came out, making it worse.

Maybe I was starting at the end, not the beginning?

Ah hah! Start with the basics and give back the original ask of the keys! It was either a eureka moment, or my first-class ticket to an ordinary life of customer service.

I turned to the warlocks and yelled for them to keep things calm around here and not let those giraffes get away. I turned and ran into the house, looking around for Dottie’s formerly lost items.

There it was, sitting on the kitchen table.

Mr. Whiskers had fallen asleep on the socks, purring away. Next to that were the earrings, ballet slippers, and the lost keys.

I gave the cat a good head scratch, met with a loud MRRRROW and even louder purring. Then, I grabbed the keys and ran back out of the house.

Outside the house was turning into a new disaster. Neighbors had started to gather, some looking at the golf cart with the dented in front, and others staring up at the giraffes’ heads munching on the tree leaves.

Taking a wild guess that this would work, I arched back my arm and threw the keys up and over the side of the box. The neighbors couldn’t see it (thankfully), but I could.

The keys disappeared over the edge.

I waited.

Nothing.

My heart sank. It didn’t work.

Then, a loud POP emitted from the box.

Dottie sat in the middle of her driveway. The box, and giraffes (fortunately) had all disappeared.

I motioned the warlocks to move the crowds along. They waved their hands in an incantation, and people wandered off as if they had never seen giraffes in the suburbs.

The unlucky golf cart driver got up, scratched his head, and mumbled something about needing to not be drinking so early in the morning and went about his way at a much slower pace.

I walked over to Dottie and held out my hand.

“Dottie, I’m sorry, but that spell can’t be used to get your keys.”

Dottie stood up and brushed off her blouse.

“Honey, that’s OK. I’ll just use my spare key. I can do without those.”

Why didn’t I ask her that in the first place? I really did set myself up for failure.

Blake’s advice and directions echoed in my head- don’t take shortcuts’ and ‘go back to the basics.’ Yes, I needed a lesson in humility.

After finishing with Dottie, and giving Mr. Whiskers another pet goodbye, the warlocks whisked me back to the office in a puff of mist. I was glad Mr. Whiskers didn’t disappear like the giraffes. He could help keep Dottie company and even help her find her keys next time instead of calling me.

Back in the chair, 15 min to the end of shift. I saw that the board was filled with calls. Not a good sign for the next shift, but time to take one more call if it is short.

Shonna: Witches brew transformed her kids into a bunch of kittens

Luna: where can I get some wolfsbane at this hour?

The second one would be so easy to pick and be out the door with time to spare.

However, I did learn my lesson. I can’t and won’t take the easy path anymore. Cherry picking is off the menu.

I clicked on the first queue: “Hi Shonna, its Whitney from the SpellFixer hotline, how can I help you?”

“I’ve seemed to have turned my children into kittens on accident.”

“What kind of cats are they?” I asked, thinking it might be important if they were Abyssinian, Himalayan, Persian, or some other exotic breed to get to the root of the spell mishap.

“I don’t know-Orange ones?”

Oh dear, it is going to be a long night I thought, as I got comfortable for a very, very long call.