Calling out Jezebel

"Oh, Jezebel, oh Jezebel, we call upon thee from the bottom of the River Styx to aid us into this spell we tell..."

And there they were. The popular ones. The pretty ones. The "fake" ones. The ones that wore heels and only carried purses with a name brand. Not a hair out of place. With pouty lips colored red and fingernails manicured precisely... almost as sharp and pointy as their countenance, critical remarks, and haughtiness; the lot of them, all gathered together in one clump of unadulterated, manipulating, scheming.

It did not surprise or shock Faith to see what she saw or hear what she had just heard that night. She was sure they were evil, and this just confirmed it. Curiosity had gotten the best of her when she'd seen Maureen's shiny red Lexus parked at the Jones barn every Tuesday evening. She just assumed Maureen was "seeing" someone from town. Maybe she could catch them in an uncompromising way and embarrass her nemesis for once, she thought. So she hid in the barn and learned.

"Make us rich, make us beautiful, make us above all others, give us the powers of seduction and give us exactly what we want. Let others envy us."

Maureen, their obvious leader, led the demonic chant with Stacie, Cheri, and Jenn in obedient unison. As they continued, their voices rose and became more and more shrill, to the point of hurting Faith's ears. Dark haired Maureen craned her long neck upwards as her pointed, sharp nose flared and her thin, but botoxed lips, sung.

The circular wooden table they encircled wasn't a table at all, but an old cable spool. Ol' man Jones had placed it in his barn to piddle work on while drinking beer and avoiding his wife, but fell ill before he could truly put it to use. Now, along with dust and old animal hair debris, it became the centerpoint of their vixen eyes and siren screeches. Atop the wooden altar, they had placed six large, red candles now aflame, and also black crow feathers strewn about; of which apparently, they had collected for this nefarious affair.

The barn was way off the road and out of sight. Not many knew of it, only the locals and they didn't care. Jones had been a thorn to them from days gone by anyways, with his crotchety complaints of how prices were "too high for this one-horse pony of a thieving town." There were occasional trucks and cars that traveled the road that led to the now dilapidated old building...mostly from young lovers wanting privacy. It was kind of in the middle of nowhere, if truth be known.

Faith knew the place well, though. The Jones family were their neighbors. In fact, Faith used to go fishing in the pond behind the barn with Brad Jones, their grandson who spent summers with his grandparents. He seemed nice enough to her and they had fun together, laughing at the changes they'd seen in each other each hot June, year after year.

Faith had gone to high school and recently graduated with this hellish clique of females, who continued their fever-pitched wails. Those had not been easy years. There had been days and days of bullying from them, from disdainful glares, harsh and biting words, even up to physical jabs when they could get away with it. There had been nothing severe enough to report, though...not that it would have done any good.

It would have been a lesson in futility since Maureen's father owned most of the town and influenced all the businesses his bank financed. And, Jenn's mother was the dean of the school; her father, a wealthy lawyer. The parents of Stacie and Cherie weren't nearly as affluent, but pushed their daughters to meet the whims of Maureen, and worked hard to keep them up to her par.

Faith had grown up without her father; her mother; almost never home, was busy working double shifts to support the household. She was grateful for the love and support of her grandmother, though. It was because of her that gave Faith a reason to keep going on. Her "home" cooking, the clothes she made for her, and the life lessons she learned from her "Nana," sustained Faith, and she kept those instructions near and dear to her.

When Maureen and her entourage had bullied her about her clothes, although clean, functional, and made with love, or when they critiqued her face and body spewing, hurtful remarks, Faith remembered Nana saying, "pretty is as pretty does," and just walked away. And, oftentimes, there had been an audience of students witnessing these events.

It seemed like Nana always had a sixth sense about those days. Faith would forget all the hurt and shame she felt inside when she caught a whiff of the freshly baked homemade apple or peach turnovers awaiting her return from school. Or sometimes, Nana would just sit quietly in her rocking chair, shelling and snapping peas or peeling potatoes for a later meal. Her busy hands and listening heart beckoned Faith to empty her feelings, knowing there would never be further judgment. So, Faith gained confidence and solace when all that Nana would ever say about the matter was, "pretty is as pretty does."

Brad had come back to help his grandmother pack up and get his grandfather settled in the nursing home. Faith had stopped by to help, too. Nana had made some delicious Banana Bread to take over. They had all shared it with coffee. Brad decided to go with Faith to hide in the barn on the next Tuesday to give them a treat or two. From the stories that Faith had shared with him, he wasn't too fond of this Maureen. He had determined to teach those little witches a lesson. He had grown close with Faith and it would be truthful to say he had a big crush on her, too. Besides, it would be fun.

It was unfathomable to Faith why, these girls she'd gone to school with all these years, would be engaging in such a revelry of sheer stupidity and beckoning demonic power. They hadn't frightened her with those silly spells, and in fact, she almost laughed out loud from her hiding place in the barn's loft. But that would have ruined the surprise awaiting them, so she held her hands over her mouth and her eyes smiled at Brad down below, well-hidden behind a large hay bale and horse equipment.

Faith had always known that Brad was somewhat of a mechanical genius, making all kinds of gadgets that moved or propelled something. He had once made a battery driven box that carried their tackle boxes and soft drinks to the pond. It was much more practical than a speeding car or zooming plane design. This time he had outdone himself, though!

As they silently waited for the incantation bellowing to reach a peak, and it soon did, a rapid succession of events occured. Jezebel seemed to come alive with Brad's arrangements of delight.

From the rafters came swinging large chains that clanged together overhead, sending old rust onto the tops of the coven's heads. Concurrently, the two caged possums Brad had trapped earlier, were loosed...also frightened by the clamor, came barreling out towards the light of the candles. And then, a large industrial fan began to let its winds free which blew the candles straight out, causing the crow feathers to swirl around their scared faces and land on their bodies. Their screams were deafening. Maureen and her crew were terrified, as they blindly fought their way to the barns' door. It all happened in a flash, and soon, only the taillights of a Lexus were seen.

As Brad turned on his flashlight, Faith made her way down to him from the loft. They both cried from laughing so hard. And that is the night that the spell just might have worked, because Faith got her first kiss in that old barn! And it certainly made her feel like the richest, most beautiful girl in town.