Witcheries in Paris
flirty frock embellished with raffia ribbons. I also get some clear, studded accessories that match the finesse of the dress perfectly. These accessories were shown in a Paris runway a week ago – the seller swears on her life. I believe her, because the price confirms her very word. I also get some floral pumps, extremely flirty and feminine. Now I am all set.
"And now to The Cool, as promised," I say to Natty leading the way. We chirp happily all the way to The Cool carelessly flinging from one hand to the other our pretty shopping bags that contain all our treasures.
"Can't wait for Luc to see me in this dress," I say to Natty. "I'm sure he'll propose to me on the spot."
"Are you gonna say yes?" Natty looks extremely surprised.
"Why, of course I'll say yes, dummy. I'll marry my French prince. He really comes from a princely lineage, ya know. Like me."
"Are you really gonna marry at fifteen?!" Natty asks. "That's pure madness."
"Madness is to reject the love of your life over trifle matters such as age or age difference," I retort. "Besides, Luc is only twenty-one, so he doesn't qualify for being old or anything."
"But...," Natty starts saying something.
"But," I stop her. "Please, Natty. There are certain things you can never understand, like having the financial means to live the life you want, which frees up much space in life, making room for a little craziness." As I utter these words I hear my mother's voice yelling at me, "Shame on you, Nirupa! That's not the way I raised you, young lady." Obviously, the voice and the yelling are in my head only. I choose to ignore the Mom in my head completely, even though it's not easy.
As we round the corner, and the glass facade of The Cool comes into sight, Natty grabs my hand pulling me away from the cafe.
"What are you doing?"
"Let's go. I don't like it here."
"What do you mean, we're gonna have our coffees here, remember?"
"It's full," Natty keeps on pulling me away. "No free seats."
"Natty, you're really nutty sometimes. There are plenty of free tables. Look," I throw a glance in the direction of the coffee shop and that's when I see them. I see Luc sitting on the other side of the glass window with a girl. And they are holding hands.
I freeze. The world starts spinning around and I almost fall to the ground. Natty runs to my help.
"Ni, let's go." She softly tries to persuade me to leave.
"Who's she?" I ask, my voice faint and whiny.
"Let's go," Natty insists stubbornly.
"Wait, I want to see her," I cry. "Who's that with my Luc?" Natty doesn't answer.
"Natty, who is that bi..."
Natty cuts me off, "Hey, Ni, there's a cafe over there!"
Then, it dawns on me that Natty must know. Natty has clearly recognized my Luc's date from the first moment she laid her eyes on the two lovey-doveys.
Squinting in disbelief, I scream hysterically, "Raspberry Stuart!?" It's Raspberry Stuart, indeed. Aarrrhhhggg!... Now she's softly caressing my boyfriend's cheek, with her pale hands and those long, ropey fingers of hers. Eeeewww... damn, those fingers. Wow, they really do a good job of cleaning windows in Paris. Through the glass panel I am able to see every detail, and every body movement of each of them.
Now, back to Raspberry Stuart – I should have known it. I shouldn't be at all surprised that she'd be after my BF. She's always so jealous of me. Raspberry Stuart is in my French class. She comes from America; more exactly from a posh place in NYC called UES. She is the second daughter of a very wealthy banker from his fifth wife. Besides Raspberry, her daddy has nine more kids from his previous marriages. Right now her parents are going through a very expensive divorce. Her dad wants to get out of a dysfunctional marriage as fast as he can, so he can at last find some happiness with his true love – a Russian striper. Raspberry's mom has promised to ruin him completely, and Raspberry is stuck somewhere in the middle. It should come as no surprise that Raspberry's got some severe daddy issues. She adores her dad, but hates her mom, and her dad's stripper, and apparently every other human female on Earth, including her full sister.
I can't stand her – she's such a conceited, sneaky, ruthless ratchet. Natty and I call her Raspberry because her hair has the color of ripe raspberry berries; and she gets all pinkish when she is upset. Raspberry Stuart, perfect name for an all-form-and-no-substance girl.
Gawd, I'm livid, seeing this atrocious sight! My red curls must be standing on end, giving me a scary appearance, because Natty seems pretty scared. No way can I let the matter drop without a good fight. I want to teach Raspberry the lesson of her lifetime.
When I was a kid, and we still lived in the Southwestern Europe with Mom, I had taught a similar lesson to a snotty kid from my class. I had made her grow rabbit ears and a pig's snout. Now, I want to take my magic skills a little higher. O'right, o'right, way higher. Did I say that I am a born witch? No, I didn't? Well then, for all who don't know me and my background I am the daughter of two powerful wizards. As a result I am naturally even more powerful than both of my parents. Mom is on the good side; Dad is on the bad side – all technicalities. What I'm trying to say is that I can do some pretty wild stuff. Generally I opt out of it, but in special cases I'm grateful for these powers. Thank you, Dad, for leaving behind your Book of Shadows so I could learn some revenge spells, and use them properly as needed. Did I mention that my dad is banned from Earth forever? No? Did I hear somebody say that I, too, must have daddy issues? Pff, nonsense, that's completely ridiculous.
Anyway, I stare at Raspberry from outside the window, while I mumble some secret chant. From the corner of my eye I see Natty shrinking in distress. I get all puffed up... It's so cool to feel like The Coolest kid around and be able to things like this. Natty is not on the gossiping side, but she still likes to brag about things that she's got. She'll tell other kids for sure that she's best friends with a cool witch, and that I'll be famous. I could even play it modest. I'll pretend that Natty is blowing the matter out of all proportions, in that way I won't break the main law of practicing magic - the discreetness.
After several minutes of concentration I extend both arms toward Raspberry and say aloud,
"Raspberry, Raspberry,
why don't you show us the berry,
You're a berry, Raspberry -
Show us the berry in you.
Cakes love you, Raspberry;
Chocolate mousses also do,
Don't be shy, Raspberry,
Be the berry on Luc's... crème brûlée."
Natty stares at me strangely.
"What?!"
"What did you just sing?"
"Nothing, just a little poem," I say. "Luc's eating crème brûlée, isn't he Natty?"
Natty shakes her head and starts cackling. "What? First, you're a little crazy; second, that's the weirdest verse metrics I've ever heard."
"Did I ever say I was Robert Frost?"
You're certainly not Robert Frost, but you're definitely something else." Natty mumbles. "Look!" she points her finger at the direction of Luc and Raspberry.
By the power of my lame poetry, in the split seconds we were not watching, Raspberry's face has turned all hot pink. I ecstatically witness as Luc jumps from his seat, gets near Raspberry and starts pounding on her back.
"He thinks she's choking," I laugh.
"She's spitting out seeds," Natty observes.
"Raspberry seeds," I correct.
Raspberry quickly turns as round as a berry and becomes increasingly smaller with each passing second. Finally her measurements settle and she becomes as small as an actual raspberry. She ends up all fuzzy and bumpy on the outside losing everything that makes her human. The bewitched raspberry miraculously shoots up into the air, and then falls down gain, ending on top of Luc's crème brûlée.
"Let's go in!" I hastily grab the shocked Natty by her hand, pulling her along. We enter the cafe and head toward Luc who, looking somehow discombobulated is staring at the crème br?
?lée in front of him, and the beautiful raspberry on top of it.
"Hey Luc," I chirp.
ok slowly looks up, but doesn't say anything. He looks as pale as a ghost.
"What's wrong sweetie pie?" I feign concern.
"I..., Je..," He mumbles, unsure of what language to chose.
"Oh," I smile. "You're enjoying this delicious crème brûlée. I love crème brûlée." I sit down on the chair opposite The One Raspberry was sitting before. "Come on over and sit down, what a pretty framboise. J'aime framboises. Do you mind, cheri?" I ask Luc and without waiting for an answer from him extend my arm, grab the raspberry and quickly pop it into my mouth.
"No! Don't!" Luc and Natty scream in one, single, horrified voice.
"What?" I ask as I chew down the berry.
"Merde!" Luc says burying his head in his hands.
"Tasty, flavorful, delicious raspberry," I smile. "I think I want a dress in the color of raspberry for the Christmas party. Come Natty, let's go back to the shops. I want to turn back the cobalt blue Red Valentino I just got, and get a raspberry sorbet dress instead."
Sweet revenge.
DARA
As Nirupa's mother I should be held partly responsible for her current behavior. I know, I take on the blame, because I have no other choice. Somewhere I must have gone all wrong. I tried to protect and guide my daughter to the best of my abilities and vision throughout each and every one of her childhood years, but now that she's a teen I feel all my efforts have been an epic fail - as she likes to say.
When she told me she wanted to