Two Sisters and a Barn

Benedicta Hicchecok held the notice from the township concerning her barn and sighed. Yes, the barn looked run down, and, yes, it needed repair, but she was no contractor and rather liked her deadly barn. It dissuaded people from getting nosey about what she had going on in there.

Her tabby cat rose, languidly stretched, and meowed. Benedicta sighed again. The last thing she needed was her sister here, but Morgenmuffel was seldom wrong about the comings and goings of Temperance. As the eldest sister, Benedicta always had to be responsible and sensible, while Temperance, or Tempe nowadays, was a bohemian artist living in a van. Benedicta set the letter on the table and started the coffee maker. She could at least be polite and make coffee.

Surely, enough the van rumbled in, gravel crunching, and hanging out the side window was her fluffy white Samoyed dog that could shed a hay bale of fur daily. Petting the cat, Benedicta said, "Muffel, feel free to cut loose with the claws if he chases you."

The screen door opened with a thwap, and in came Tempe smelling of clove cigarettes, patchouli, and weed. She thrust a potted plant in her sister's hands, "Dickie, this is for your poison garden, Bittersweet Nightshade!"

The dog, Hannibal, raced in to run up to Muffel, and the cat swelled to an angry ball of fur and hissing. Tempe called out, "Hannibal we talked about this, Morgenmuffel earned his name for not liking mornings or dogs. Leave the grumpy cat be."

"So, what brings you, sister? "Benedicta tried to say in a neutral tone.

" I have a renaissance fair to work over by Detroit." Tempe said airily, then continued, " I thought I would stop in." She paused "I… also got the feeling you need my help."

"With what? It's not bill paying or groceries." Benedicta knew that was snarky, but every time her sister showed up, it was to eat, shower, borrow gas money, and disappear for months on end.

"Dickie, must we have this argument every time I see you?" Tempe poured herself some coffee and added several spoons of sugar and creamer.

Tempe walked to a solid-oak dining chair, her skirts, made from Indian tapestries, swished along her legs. As she sat, Tempe spied the letter and picked it up to read.

Benedicta glanced at her reflection in the glass door of the China cabinet. That layered chin-length bob was doing her no favors. She would have to whip up a batch of hair growth potions tonight.

"What a load of crap!" Tempe said, waggling the letter, "100 years ago, our farm was at the end of a dirt road that no one went down. Having fallen barns is a country aesthetic."

"I doubt the township gives a fig about country aesthetic. The fact is I have to pay to tear it down or pay to fix it," said Benedicta with a snort.

"You could glamor it to look fixed up?" she offered, heading to the fridge. Upon opening the refrigerator, she sighed, "You know I'm Vegan, right?"

" I could care less about your diet, Tempe, as you never buy food," Benedicta said curtly.

"You are a terrible sister," came the muffled reply as Tempe rummaged further back for food.

"You're a vain, lazy, witch with an overly hairy dog."

"Hannibal is just FLUFFY." Tempe retorted, defeated at the lack of vegan food. "C'mon, let's see how bad this is.

They walked the well-worn path to the barn. The faded red paint was peeling, and the roof had lost shingles. The barn had a heavy lean to the right as if it wanted to lay on its side and take a nap. The windows on the second-story hayloft had been broken and never replaced, only boarded over. The regular human-sized door to come and go, without using the massive livestock door, took all of Benedicta's strength to wretch open. Benedicta flipped the old light switch and watched as the lights flickered on. The electricity still ran on ancient ceramic spools running the beams of the barn.

With light, Tempe could see that the barn was clean and the tack room that her mother had converted into the spelling kitchen had the old butcher block table that held the family grimoire.

"How much magic are you expending to keep this old place up?" Tempe asked as a brownout dimmed the lights before they regained strength to brighten again.

"So much that I can't do much else. " Benedicta admitted quietly.

“Dickie, I have the answer!” Tempe replied cheerfully.

"Tempe, I truly hate that nickname."

"I know!" Tempe said impishly.

"So, what is your fabulous solution?" Benedicta asked sarcastically.

"I can tell you at dusk. Until then, can I borrow your spelling room?”

"Have at it." Benedicta said as she left to go back to the farmhouse and brood.

At dusk, Tempe came in holding a mason jar of dark brownish liquid. She handed it to Benedicta and said, "Hair growth potion since that haircut is unfortunate.”

"Well, that saves me some work tonight. Let's hear your solution."

Tempe glanced at the window, "Soon."

"Tempe, enough of…" Muffel gave a caterwaul and swelled up. Benedicta raised her hands while muttering, but Tempe rushed to clasp her wrists, " No, stop… please, I know Alexandros tripped the wards waking up, but he is alright."

"Tempe, I swear by the god and goddess if you brought home a..." Benedicta trailed off; she could feel what was out there.

Tempe rushed to the back door, "Alex come up to the porch, but no closer, or Dickie's wards will fry you."

Standing in the driveway, illuminated by the mercury light, was a man in jeans and a t-shirt. His wavey, dark hair was tousled and his face square-jawed and thoughtful. He said, "I swear by my gods to abide by guest rules if you allow me in." His voice was deep and resonated in such a way that it made Benedicta want to hear it. She folded her arms "Tone down the come-hither vampire glamor, and we can talk."

"I can try. It's sort of like asking a skunk not to stink."

Benedicta smiled despite herself. "You can sit on the porch, and we can talk. I would offer you iced tea or something, but we all know I don't have on hand what you drink."

He walked up and offered his hand, "Alexandros Papadopoulos. Most people call me Alex."

Benedicta took it and fought the urge to recoil from its coolness. He was dead after all, well, reanimated, but dead all the same. "Tell me, Tempe, just how is it you started traveling with a vampire?"

"He needed a ride out of Wisconsin, and I was leaving to come here." she said, standing up, "I want tea, do you want some, Dickie?"

Without waiting for an answer, Tempe hurried in.

"I guess this is for us to talk?" Benedicta said.

"Your sister thought you might rent me a sunproof room while I wait out my master's ire."

"Suppose your master comes here, looking for you?"

"I am banished. He doesn't care where I go. I, unfortunately, lack his protection, and do not care to pledge myself to anyone else."

" Alex, I don't think this is the place for you. Your meal requirements will get you noticed. Manistee, Michigan isn't that big of a place."

"I'll get a car and graze farther out. Nobody has claimed this area. I would effectively be free to live out my un-life."

"That's because I kill any vampire that tries to settle within a 300-mile radius of me. As a witch, I have issues with creatures who treat my blood like a fine wine with LSD mixed in. "

Alex suddenly stood and oriented on the barn. Then he left the porch at vampire speed that defied logic. Benedicta confused by this, looked in the direction he had sped off to. With horror she saw flames in the old barn's windows, licking out around the boards. She yelled for Tempe and ran for the barn. Behind her, the screen door slapped as Tempe dropped the glasses of iced tea to race behind her. Benedicta stood next to Alex, and said, "Our grimoire is in there."

The flames were growing. Benedicta said to her sister, "Spell me to be fire-resistant, we have to get the family grimoire."

"Benedicta, you won't be able to breathe, it's lost," Tempe said, holding her sister's arm to prevent her from doing anything rash.

Alex said in a firm voice, "Spell me. I don't have to breathe. I can rush in and grab the book."

"You wouldn't know where to look," Benedicta said tersely.

Tempe touched Alex's forehead, "See it? I was last in there and used it."

"Yes," he replied.

"I've done all I can do, be careful."

Alex sprang for the door and pulled it from its hinges. The fire roared out. Once it died down a bit, he dove in. Benedicta started sweating. The building should have collapsed. It was her power that kept the building upright. As the minutes ticked by, she feared the spellbook was lost. Then, from what had been the hayloft, a door was kicked free. Alex leaped down, his clothes engulfed like a comet, clutching the book. The side of his face burned in an ugly mess of red tissues, weeping pinkish fluid, and his arm had places where the flesh was seared to the bone. He rolled to put out the fire on his backside.

Benedicta took the book and helped her sister drag Alex away, dropping the enchantment holding the barn up. In the distance, the volunteer fire department was coming, and she gestured at the house, " Let's drag him in before the firemen try to take him to the hospital." Alex howled in pain as they tried to carry him up the porch and into the kitchen.

The first of the firetrucks arrived. Benedicta put the book on the table, raised the wards, and left her sister to look after the pets and Alex who was on her kitchen floor.

The fire department was efficient at their work and the chief declared the barn a total loss.

Benedicta exhaustedly went in her house. Alex was in her recliner in the living room, a ludicrous smile on his face, his wounds knitting as she watched. His clothing was gone, and he was wrapped up in a quilt.

Slurring, he said, "Geia, i ómorfi gaioktími mou."

"I don't speak Greek," Benedicta said, "Try Latin."

" I'd rather eat dirt," the vampire replied in Greek-accented English.

Tempe rubbed her arm, "I'm never feeding you again. It hurts when you're not eating for fun."

"You fed him?" Benedicta said, realizing the vampire was high on witch blood.

"Do you want a ravenous vampire, who has to heal, on your hands? Besides, he got the grimoire." Tempe replied in a tone that let her sister know she was ungrateful.

"Don't think getting the family grimoire has indebted me to him. It has kept me from running him off. I never said I would keep him."

Slurring in English, Alex said, "Would it help if I told you I'm filthy rich? I can pay to rebuild the barn."

"How filthy?" Tempe asked with a raised eyebrow.

" Like a pig in sh…stuff," he giggled and leaned his head back, "You witches must be like what I imagine drinking champagne is like. "

Benedicta stood and said, "When you sober up, we can talk money."

Tempe poked his arm sharply, "Filthy rich, and you never covered gas money once on the way here."

"How do you think I got this rich?" he said, smiling.

Benedicta left and picked up Muffel. He purred and head-butted her. She said softly to the cat, "You're right, we can get the barn rebuilt, and if he's a problem later, we can always kill him."