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Bouncing off every surface and making up some others as it zipped and zapped through the air, thank the Goddess for Bernie…
(I know. I was pretty sure I wasnevergonna utter those words either.)
…because she stepped right up and screamed a counter Spell at the top of her little pink lungs, “Stop this shit! I can’t help that Vi’s a dimwit. Cut the crap. Or I’ll blow ya’ off the whole damned map!”
(Yes, I taught Bernie to use Spells, too. I figured there would come a time I needed her to save my ass. And lookie here, I was right.)
Not sure my Pig’s shrieked Spell would work, I ducked and searched for cover just in case I was about to become a greasy spot of my own creation. With no cover in sight and nowhere to run, I was bobbing and weaving long after I really had to, something I have on good authority confirmed I was the biggest goofball in the history of goofballs.
In retrospect, it did my heart good to know Bernie would save my ass from imminent demise should the need arise. And even better, I watched through one eye with my hands still over my head as her bout of benevolence didn't end there.
Shooting across the rocky room, all four of her little legs moving so fast they were nothing but a blur of bright pink and mauve, she scampered up the pile of crud we now knew wasnotCupid, and jabbed Harvey Archer right in the chest.
“Who are you? Where did you come from? And why the hell did you put us down here?”
Looking through very black, very round, coke-bottle-lensed glasses, the wimpiest…
(Yes, I know it’s a horrible thing to say about another person, but it was the only adjective that worked. No, really, I promise I’m not just being a brat. Here, let me paint you a picture and you can form your own opinion, m’kay?
Ya' know the skinny, awkward, nerdy kids you see in science class, comic books, or after school specials? The ones who have holsters for their inhalers that color coordinate with their pocket protectors and their briefcases? The ones who think it's cool to dissect frogs or create robotic girlfriends. Yeah, those guys – the next reclusive CEOs, billionaires, or owners of the major tech companies who couldn't carry on a conversation that didn't include the words – snot, allergies, and Dr. Weinstein – if their lives depended on it.
Well, Harvey Archer made all of them you’ve ever heard of look cooler than Don Juan and stronger than Superman. Sure, he was one of my Mick’s many, many, many cousins and a Null, but he was also the only one I’d ever met who wasn’t good-looking, smart, and muscled to the max, however, none of that negated the fact that he was creepy with a capital C.
Not creepy just because his IQ was so high he ruined every grading curve. No way. I am not that petty. I’m talking about the skeevy kinda creepy that made your skin crawl when he looked at me because it was obvious he was imagining what I looked like naked, or at the very least in my bra and panties. Can we all say,Ewwww?
Now, stop rolling your eyes, pursing your lips, and shaking your head as you think horrible, terrible, nasty thoughts about me. I swear I am not making it up. Every girl – Other or otherwise – had experienced the Harvey Stare. You can ask any of them. They’ll back me up. Besides, you and I know each other well enough for you to be sure I will always tell you the truth – no matter how ugly it may be – and this time is no different.
So, here it is. My very own reason for thinking that Harvey Archer should’ve been named Tom… Like Peeping Tom, in case you didn’t get my drift…
How would you feel about finding said nerd boy crouched outside your bedroom window, looking through binocular glasses he created in his very own home laboratory, as he snapped polaroids of your brand new teenage curves in your first ever matching bra and panty set?
Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’d be as mad as a three-legged dog tryin’ to bury a turd on an icy pond while having a hissy fit as you screamed, “Harvey Archer, you better give your heart to Jesus because your butt is mine.”
Now, you know how I felt. And I wasn't the only girl – be they Witch or Other – to have experienced the slimy stalkery of Harvey Archer. There wasn't a female in Nowhere USA High School and Supernatural Academy who didn't run at the sound of his whispering wheezing, hide in the bathroom when his nasally voice screeched their name or was forced to whip up an Anti-Peeping Harvey Potion and slather it all over every window of their family home.
However - and I say that with an exasperated exhale and shake of my head – there was just something about me – Violet Elizabeth Brown, Brown Witch Extraordinaire and the Keeper of the Spark of Love that kept ol’ Harvey coming back for more. No matter what I did, no matter how many times I asked nicely or turned him into a pink Toad or threatened to tell Mick, that that bespeckled ninety-eight-pound Null refused to give up.
Finally, when I was seventeen and deep in the throes of my hundredth serious crush on the one and only Mick Archer, I lost my cool and told my Auntie Belinda about my ‘pest problem’. Now, before you ask, the reason I never told her before that moment was because Auntie B was not known for her restraint and decorum and couldn’t give a good gosh darn if Harvey Archer was the favorite nephew of Big Daddy and Mother Archer. Hell, she wouldn’t have cared if the little creep was the nephew of the Goddess Herself.
And that is just one of the things I love about Auntie Belinda.
Never one to let me down, the coolest of all the aunties in the Brown Family Coven, Lindy – as she’s known to her friends – jumped into action. With little more than a muttered, “I’ll fix that little sneaky bastard’s little red wagon. Bastard needs to keep those spooky spectacles to himself,” she snapped her fingers, turned herself into an Owl, and promptly waited on the branch of the oak tree outside my window.
Sure enough, in less than an hour, the screams of a very scared, running-for-his-life Harvey Archer filled the evening air. The image of a feathered, screeching Lindy in Owl form chasing his skinny behind all the way back to his family’s farm will forever be etched on my brain. Best of all, I’m happy to report that Peeping Harvey was no more, and the rest of my high school years were stalker free.
Heck, the girls of Nowhere USA High School and Supernatural Academy were so thankful, they changed the mascot to an Owl and made Auntie Lindy Head Teacher of Supernatural Shifting for Fun and Personal Safety. Now, do you see why I feel the way I do about Harvey Archer? Okay then. Thank you. Now, where was I?
Oh yeah…)
Watching my three-foot-two-inch, full of piss and vinegar, madder than a mule chewing bumblebees, very pink, very round, and red-tutu-wearing Familiar jabbing the substantially taller and definitely broader than I remembered Harvey Archer in the chest as she demanded answers, I almost jumped on the bandwagon and started yelling along. But something gave me pause. Whether it was the weird way he looked at Bernie like she was an amoeba on a flea's ass and he was the exterminator or the surly sneer that curled his lips, I'll never be sure, however, I thank the Goddess every day that the little Witch in the back of my mind chose that moment to wake up and whisper,“Watch out, Vi. That one’s up to no good.”
Deciding it was time to put up or shut up and figure out exactly what was going on, I tsked, “Oh, Bernie, stop being such a butthead.” Adding a little shimmy to the sway of my hips, a fluttering bat of my eyes, I wiped the dust from my cheeks and fluffed my long brown curls while trying not to throw up and tittered like the twit he obviously thought me to be, “Be nice to Harvey. It’s been…”
Giving the Nerd a wink as I crinkled my nose and giggled, I asked in an octave higher and goofier than I knew could be mustered from my sarcastic, curvy person, “How longhasit been, Harvey? I think the last time I saw you…”
“Belinda Brown - aka the Screech Owl from Hell- was chasing me down the road trying to peck the hair off my head and the skin off my ass,” he deadpanned, his aura doing a wonky swirly thing with muddy brown and inky black entering the mix.
“Something is seriously wrong with this idiot.”Bernie’s voice echoed through my brain at the same time that the voice of the little Witch in the back of my mind added,“Things are not as they seem, Vi. You need to be careful.”
