{"id":9907,"date":"2016-05-03T06:00:35","date_gmt":"2016-05-03T11:00:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/?p=9907"},"modified":"2016-05-03T06:00:35","modified_gmt":"2016-05-03T11:00:35","slug":"swagger-and-sway","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/?p=9907","title":{"rendered":"Swagger and Sway"},"content":{"rendered":"

I didn\u2019t know I was bagging a sorceress\u2019s groceries. First of all, I didn\u2019t know sorceresses bought <\/em>groceries. I mean, I guess they had to eat, too. Second, the groceries looked normal. Eggs, celery, cucumbers, mayonnaise, one gossip magazine, and twelve boxes of anise tea. Well mostly normal. But the real reason I didn\u2019t know they were for a sorceress was that the person paying for them was powerfully built bald man in a light grey suit.<\/p>\n

Thing really changed for me when the man\u2019s cellular rang.<\/p>\n

\u201cMadam?\u201d he said into the small flip phone. How old was that thing? But he just said \u201cYes madam.\u201d Pause \u201cYes madam.\u201d And then he hung up and looked right at me. I don\u2019t really feel comfortable with being visible, so I hunched.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re to follow me.\u201d He said.<\/p>\n

\u201cUmm. I\u2019m working.\u201d I gestured at my apron and nametag and tried to make myself even smaller. I\u2019m small to begin with. Ectomorph. This man could crumble my bones into his salad for croutons.<\/p>\n

\u201cManager!\u201d He called. His voice wasn\u2019t loud, but it carried.<\/em> Doug, my paunchy, bearded manager headed straight for my line. He was frowning at me, already certain I must be at fault for whatever this nicely-dressed customer was upset about. Typical Doug.<\/p>\n

\u201cI must abscond with your young sacker, here,\u201d the big, suit-wearing man said. As if I were nothing more than Doug\u2019s \u2018sacker\u2019 to dismiss or retain at will.\u00a0 I made small, outraged noises, but neither man noticed.<\/p>\n

\u201cChae\u2019s on the clock right now,\u201d Doug explained holding his hands out indicating he\u2019d like<\/em> to comply with the customer and send me off to who-knows-what with this who-knows-who. But there\u2019s important grocery store policy, <\/em>you see?<\/p>\n

The big man cleared his throat and pulled a small business card out of\u2026nowhere. It just appeared in his hand. He gave it to Doug. It flashed as he handed it over.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name,\u201d said the stranger, \u201cIs Orlando Miranda.\u201d Unfortunate name,<\/em> I thought. \u201cI represent Amalthea Prunewater, SRC. My patron requires the girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

Doug\u2019s eyes popped at the card.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo with the man, Chae. I\u2019ll clock you out.\u201d Only an emergency would make Doug let me out early. And he would never<\/em> clock me out himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut\u2026you can\u2019t just\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cS.R.C., Chae. She\u2019s a Sorceress.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. See you sometime,\u201d Doug took a step back from me as if he was afraid the interest of a sorceress might be infectious.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d I guess I have to go with him. <\/em>I gather the sorceress\u2019s bagged groceries and follow the giant. Orlando Mirando or whatever.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no,\u201d he says, gracefully scooping the bag of groceries that I\u2019d been straining to carry with two arms into a single, bulging arm. \u201cMadam. You need do no heavy lifting from here on out. Come. I will take you to Amalthea.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d I say. I follow him out with the awkward sway walk that my scoliosis brace was supposed to have fixed.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I blink in the bright sunlight. Orlando is walking toward an old car that\u2019s parked right in front of the store quite in everyone\u2019s way. It looks like a Duesenberg from the 1920\u2019s. Periwinkle and cream with a tan fabric top. The stylish old petrol-hog looks anachronistic parked here among Priuses and Fiats. Taking up more gas than others. Taking up more room than others. Well, that was sorcerers for you.<\/p>\n

Orlando opened the back door and motioned me in. The sorceress was seated comfortably on the other side of the leather car seat holding a pair of dainty silver birdwatching binoculars. She was wearing a pale green skirt and blazer with a light pink blouse and a flowery, fruity, false-birdy hat.<\/p>\n

\u201cEuphasia!\u201d She cried joyfully and drew me into a sudden hug, heedless of my back brace. \u201cI saw you through the window, dear, and knew it was you after all!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMmmph.\u201d I said into her cushy armpit. She wore a perfume that screamed \u2018Gardenias!\u2019 at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh my long lost niece!\u201d She broke the hug and looked at me fondly. I was horrified.<\/p>\n

I was not <\/em>her long lost niece. Despite that my parents, God rest their souls, had never mentioned magical relatives, I looked nothing like this comfortably large, healthy, white woman. I am thin, fragile, bent, and Korean. And I already have <\/em>an aunt who would certainly never hug me or call me \u2018dear.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no.\u201d I said. \u201cYou\u2019re mistaken.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sorceress gasped. A shadow passed over the sun and the world seemed to darken. Her face looked hurt and shocked, but her eyes became predatory. Her pupils narrowed to vertical slits like a cat\u2019s or a snake\u2019s. I stared into them, frozen like prey. \u00a0I had forgotten that contradicting a sorceress was unwise.<\/p>\n

Suddenly Orlando dropped the bag of groceries.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! The eggs!\u201d He cried. \u201cThey\u2019ll all be broken.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sorceress\u2019s eyes darted away from mine and I could breathe again.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo matter, dear Orlando! I\u2019ll repair them once we\u2019re at home!\u201d Her voice was cheerful and when she turned back to me her pupils were round and friendly once again. She\u2019d composed herself from my impropriety. Stupid!<\/em> I hissed at myself.<\/p>\n

\u201cOrlando will<\/em> fret so over small things, if you let him,\u201d She said.<\/p>\n

Orlando glanced back at us from the front seat where he settled.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Madame.\u201d He said and then smiled meaningfully at me. He\u2019d dropped the eggs on purpose to distract her. I nodded in acknowledgement. I must be more careful from here on.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow, Euphasia,\u201d she continued at me as if I hadn\u2019t just broken the<\/em> cardinal rule of speaking with magic folks, \u201cWe\u2019ll have to have a grand party to celebrate your reappearance! You have almost certainly come into your power by now and you were foretold to be the most gifted of us all! You relax and I\u2019ll make all the arrangements.\u201d<\/p>\n

The sorceress drew a small flip phone from her purse and began dialing. Did magical people ever update their technology? <\/em>She called sorceress after sorceress, collecting them all in one massive group phone call and informed them of her long lost niece\u2019s reappearance and the welcome party to be held tonight.<\/p>\n

I leaned against the seat, and tried to make myself smaller. I hoped I looked relaxed, but I was not <\/em>relaxed. I was not magical at all, let alone the most powerful member of a magical family. What would she do<\/em> to me when they found out she\u2019d been mistaken? Magical-types couldn\u2019t stand <\/em>being wrong.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

By the time I was ushered into Amalthea Prunewater\u2019s great stone mansion, I was feeling sick.<\/p>\n

But then the sorceress said, \u201cOrlando, be a dear and bring the groceries with me to the kitchen. I want to fix those eggs.\u201d And I was completely interested. Real magic!<\/em> Not many people get a chance to see a sorcerer do something magical.<\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t been invited. But after only a moment\u2019s hesitation, I sway-walked after them toward the kitchen. Both Orlando and the Sorceress glanced at me over their shoulders and smiled. It looked like approval.<\/p>\n

The kitchen staff jumped at Amalthea\u2019s entrance, but they didn\u2019t look overly alarmed. Perhaps the sorceress didn\u2019t keep an impenetrable social barrier between herself and her servants like so many magical upper-classers were said to.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll need things!\u201d She said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBowl!\u201d She barked. A kitchen girl got her a bowl. I got excited. I was going to watch a real sorceress mix up a real spell!<\/p>\n

\u201cScallions! Diced!\u201d Another kitchen girl started chopping.<\/p>\n

\u201cTomatoes, minced!\u201d The sorceress pulled the dripping egg container from the bottom of the grocery bag and frowned slightly.<\/p>\n

\u201cMushrooms, Saut\u00e9ed!\u201d She commanded.<\/p>\n

\u201cGrated Cheese! Swiss!\u201d As she commanded ingredients, the kitchen staff put them in her bowl. One by one, the sorceress peeled the eggs and dropped what she could of each raw egg into the bowl as well. Then she stirred. Disappointment must have crept onto my face because the sorceress smiled at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI do so love cooking!\u201d she said. \u201cWhat better way to fix the eggs than to fix a mushroom and Swiss scramble?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you were going to mend the shells?\u201d I asked, hoping I wasn\u2019t breaking any unknown sorcerer rules with the question.<\/p>\n

\u201cPsh. Why? They\u2019d only be broken again later. No point, Dear! Now you\u2019d better go and get dressed for your party. I\u2019ll have some of the scramble sent up to your rooms.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRooms?\u201d I gulped as a maid escorted me out of the kitchen and up a sweeping staircase. I lived in a studio apartment that fit a twin bed, a mini fridge\/microwave combo, and a few bookshelves. There was a shared bathroom down the hall.<\/p>\n

The rooms were glorious. I not only had my own bathroom with a claw-footed tub, but I had a vast sitting room connected to my dressing room and bedroom. Everything was decorated in opulent red and cream and gold and crystal chandeliers graced each room. There was no mini fridge, but I expect that the bell for room service would take care of those needs.<\/p>\n

My stomach turned over when I saw the dressing room, though. A glittering gold dress \u00a0was laid out for me. It had a full skirt, petticoats, and poufy mutton chop shoulders. This was not a dress I could disappear in. Even in my extraordinary dressing room, the dress stood out like, well, like a Duesenberg among Fiats.<\/p>\n

I turned to the maid who\u2019d pointed it out. \u201cI can\u2019t!\u201d I cried. \u201cI\u2019m not the long-lost niece. I\u2019m not magical!\u201d<\/p>\n

The maid\u2019s eyes widened and she shook her head. \u201cMustn\u2019t say that! Mustn\u2019t! You are <\/em>Euphasia Prunewater, Madame. And I will help you into your gown, now!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! I can\u2019t wear this!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease, Madame!\u201d the maid was close to begging. \u201cBe reasonable.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am the only one here who is<\/em> being reasonable!\u201d I shouted. The maid crouched on the floor and hyperventilated.<\/p>\n

\u201cUm. Are you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMustn\u2019t say that. Mustn\u2019t,\u201d she repeated softly between panting breaths.<\/p>\n

\u201cUm, then I suppose, could you help me into the dress?\u201d<\/p>\n

The maid looked so relieved and pleased that I had to admit defeat. She helped me into the dress and I tried not to look at myself as she layered me in mountains of ballgown. Before I knew it, she\u2019d piled my long, black hair high on my head in an elaborate two-foot high updo held fast with industrial strength hairspray and sparkly barrettes.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh no!\u201d I cried.<\/p>\n

The maid fled the room, frightened by my outburst. I chased her, desperate for some <\/em>information about what I would face tonight. But my gown slowed me down and once I\u2019d reached the hallway outside my rooms, I couldn\u2019t tell which corner she\u2019d scurried around.<\/p>\n

I chose the one on the right and ran smack into Orlando. I bounced off him like a June bug off a brick wall and landed flat on my back. My fall was cushioned by an ample bustle. A real damned bustle!<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cMadame!\u201d He cried and stooped to pick me up. \u201cMy most abject apologies!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Don\u2019t call me that!\u201d I said. \u201cYou must<\/em> have noticed that your patron made a mistake. I\u2019m not <\/em>a Prunewater at all. I\u2019m not magical!\u201d<\/p>\n

Orlando shook his head. \u201cOf course <\/em>you\u2019re family,\u201d he said. He led me to a grand mirror and pointed. \u201cLook at your bearing!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

I looked. In that dress I did look a bit\u2026expansive. With my hair piled up on top of my head like it was, I looked taller. I took up more room, and I looked natural doing it. That felt odd.\u00a0 I straightened up a bit and uncrossed my arms. They dangled in the way that my real Aunt says is unattractive. She says I look less weird when I hunch.<\/p>\n

I look at the mirror and take a couple of steps back. With my arms uncrossed my sway is more noticeable. But maybe\u2026maybe it\u2019s not a sway. I put a hand on my hip and suddenly it\u2019s a swagger<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere!\u201d Orlando says, smiling. \u201cThe resemblance is remarkable, Madame.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut what about magic?\u201d I ask Orlando.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho dares question a sorceress?\u201d He asked, his mouth quirked up in a smile.<\/p>\n

I think of the egg scramble the sorceress made rather than mend the eggshells. I think of all the rules and the mystique surrounding magical people. I think of my own grumpy Aunt and my grocery store job and my studio apartment and I smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, who am I to contradict Amalthea Prunewater?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho indeed,\u201d says Orlando, nodding.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I didn\u2019t know I was bagging a sorceress\u2019s groceries. First of all, I didn\u2019t know sorceresses bought groceries. I mean, I guess they had to eat, too. Second, the groceries looked normal. Eggs, celery, cucumbers, mayonnaise, one gossip magazine, and twelve boxes of anise tea. Well mostly normal. But the real reason I didn\u2019t know […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[695],"class_list":["post-9907","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-mistaken-identity"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9907","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9907"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9907\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9907"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9907"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.confabulatorcafe.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9907"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}