The Strawberry Jam Incident

Note: This is a short story I wrote several months ago. It's a suburban fantasy vignette piece. Feedback is welcome. Hope you enjoy! Now, without further ado...

“But, Moooom!”

“School. Now!”

Zeke scrambled around the corner, his shiny new shoes slipping on the freshly washed tile floor of the kitchen. “Mom, I forgot to feed Torch!”

Mildred Hubblesworth sighed as she held out the brown paper bag containing her son’s lunch. “I’ll do it. You’re going to be late as it is.”

Zeke grinned. “Thanks, Mom.” He snatched his lunch out of her hands, and she took the brief moment he was standing relatively still to inspect him.

He’d put on the clothes she’d set out, but had neglected to tuck in his shirt, and it was somehow already wrinkled.

“No sharing your lunch today,” Mildred reminded him. “I don’t want another call from your teacher.”

“I still don’t understand why that kid fainted. There’s nothing wrong with a snack cup of maggots, especially with that barbecue sauce you made for them,” Zeke muttered as he opened his lunch bag and inspected his grub for the day.

Mildred resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew that he knew by now that humans could barely stomach anything. They’d bypass lots of perfectly good protein sources just because they were “too squishy” or “still moving”. Such a waste, in her opinion. Her son seemed to enjoy the reactions he got from his classmates about his food, though. She’d had to somewhat ‘normalize’ the lunches he took after a particularly nasty call from his teacher following what sounded like a rather contagious vomiting incident. Zeke had found it hilarious, but Mildred had consoled herself by telling herself that such was probably the way of eleven-year-old boys everywhere.

“Zeke, don’t argue.”

Zeke sighed. “Yes, Mom.”

“I’ve got book club today, so if I’m not here right when you get home, make yourself a snack and take Torch for a walk.”

“Okay,” Zeke agreed, while attempting to stealthily reach for one of the chocolate chip caterpillar cookies cooling on the counter.

Mildred smacked his hand away. “Those are for my book club. And do try to make sure Torch stays on the ground when you walk him. You know how the neighbors start to freak out when he takes off.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And keep him away from Mrs. Pettifer’s dog down the road. We won’t be able to explain away another singed ear.”

“Yes, Mom,” Zeke replied, sounding more put-upon by the second, in the way that only one’s own children can.

“Okay, now go to school.”

Zeke ran towards the door, snatching up his backpack on the way. “Bye, Mom!”

“Love you, Honey! And put your horns in, for goodness’ sakes!”

Just once, she thought as she turned back to the cup of tea she was making herself, I’d like to have a school photo I can display on the mantelpiece without one of the human neighbors commenting on how interesting it is that I’d let Zeke wear a costume to school on picture day. Just once I want a photo that’s actually presentable.

Of course her parents would complain when she sent it to them, but they were of the old school of thought and didn’t understand her and Tom’s decision to mainstream Zeke. They didn’t understand the appeal of a nice neighborhood in the suburbs away from all the hellfire and brimstone.

A very old, very fat dog shuffled into the kitchen on short legs. If one were to look too closely, one might wonder how the fur seemed to arrange itself in a pattern that almost appeared to be scales in the right light.

Mildred didn’t wonder. She knew. “I suppose you want your food, huh, boy?” she asked, reaching down to scratch him behind his ear.

Torch let out a bark of approval, wagged his tail, and then sneezed.

“I’m so glad I went with the flame retardant cabinets,” Mildred sighed aloud to herself as the ankles of her jeans smoked lightly.

Torch looked up, a mildly apologetic expression on his face.

“I know, boy. You didn’t mean to. Come on, let’s get you fed.”

“Be gone, you foul fiend!”

Mildred forced an understanding smile. “Nice to see you too, Ettie.”

“Bah!” the old witch replied.

Mildred couldn’t hold it against her (though that didn’t mean she didn’t stay wary of her). Traditionally witches that socialized with demons were seen as dabbling in dark magic and they were often ostracized by their peers for it. Of course, in the modern world that wasn’t so much of an issue, as more and more reformed demons were putting their old ways aside and assimilating into human society, but Ettie was rather old school.

Ettie’s views made sense, as she was the sole member of the book club who had long ago ceased being a housewife and a mother and was now well into her great-grandmother years. She liked a good book, though, and they’d felt sorry for her, alone in that cottage day in and day out (ever since her daughter moved her clan to Florida), and so they’d invited her into the book club.

“Don’t mind her,” Rowena, the other witch in their book club and their hostess for the day, murmured with a sigh. “She’s just grumpy because a potion exploded on her this morning. Glad you could make it, Millie.”

Mildred smiled. She and Rowena had had a cautious introduction, but had ended up becoming fast friends. Her son Sage was about the same age as Zeke, and the two were always getting up to mischief together. As the only friend she had that could magically get rid of scorch marks and replace burnt furniture, Rowena was the friend that watched Torch for them whenever they went on holiday, as well. “I brought cookies.”

“Chocolate chip caterpillar?”

“Of course,” Mildred replied with a grin.

“Yum! My favorite!” Rowena took the cookies from her and set them down in the kitchen.

“I don’t know why. She never puts in enough caterpillar,” Ettie muttered from her rocking chair.

Mildred brushed off the comment and found a seat on the couch between Phoebe and Hortence. Rowena came back into the room and went carefully around the room closing all the curtains.

“All right, everyone. We’re all here and the curtains are closed. Let’s begin.”

Around the circle there was a flurry of change, and the whole atmosphere of the room transformed as magic was undone. Mildred relaxed into her seat as her horns poked up through her wavy black hair, and her tail untucked itself from her jeans. Her eyes, previously a dark green, faded into a greenish-yellow, and suddenly they had a distinctly reptilian quality to them.

To her right Phoebe shrank down to her regular pixie size of under a foot tall and unfolded her wings. On her left Hortence shrank as well, though not nearly to the extent that Phoebe had, and her face distorted as her nose grew to a hooked point and her ears extended back. For a goblin, she really wasn’t bad looking, Mildred always said, but the species really was not the most attractive in the world.

Two minutes later only Ettie and Rowena still looked the same. Suddenly what had been on the surface a normal book club gathering had become what all the members knew it to be: a group of non-humans who got together once a month to be able to unwind into their true forms while sharing a common love of reading.

Apart from Ettie, Rowena, Phoebe, Hortence, and Mildred herself, the group also consisted of Jeanie, a mermaid who had to make sure she stayed well hydrated, Eleanor, the tallest dwarf around, and Lenora, the sweetest siren Mildred had ever met.

“So,” Rowena began once everyone was settled. “What did everyone think of this month’s book?”

“There weren’t enough witches,” Ettie grumbled.

“There weren’t any witches,” Eleanor pointed out.

“Exactly!” Ettie exclaimed, glaring at the book in her lap. “There should always be witches.”

“Of course, even when there are, you still think there aren’t enough,” Hortence pointed out.

“Or she complains that the witches aren’t portrayed correctly,” Phoebe chimed in, her voice falling on everyone’s ears like a child’s laughter. “We read The Crucible last month and that didn’t have enough of the ‘right kind’ of witches for you.”

“That didn’t have real witches at all!” Ettie retorted. “Bah! It was just a bunch of bored people crying witch, like that’s such a bad thing. And when they are ‘real’ witches they’re running around dancing naked in the moonlight or cackling all the time. What kind of a way is that to carry on, I ask you? Shakespeare wrote loony, evil witches. I bet the man never even met a single one. And if we’re not crazy, conniving villains, we’re green, warty villains. Have you ever seen a green witch?”

“My cousin Valencia looked pretty green after she found out what was in the anti-wrinkle potion she’d just drunk,” Rowena mused aloud.

“Exactly! No one has! There aren’t any!” Ettie continued, her only acknowledgment of Rowena’s comment an icy glare in her direction.

Mildred rolled her eyes. This was a discussion they had in some form or another every month. She couldn’t help chiming in and working Ettie up even more, even though she knew it probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to make the witch dislike her more. “Witches are good in the Harry Potter books.” Mildred’s eyes met Rowena’s across the circle and they grinned at each other – they both knew full well what was to come next.

“Pfft! Call them witches? Won’t catch me waving a silly twig around and talking nonsense just to get a door unlocked. Not when you can just use a key. No, the only author that ever got us right at all was that Pratchett man. We witches are complex, intelligent beings.”

“So does anyone have an opinion on this month’s book that doesn’t have to do with the lack of witches?” Rowena said, attempting to get the group back on track.

“There was a distinct lack of mermaids,” Jeanie offered with a sly grin on her face. “Frankly I was appalled, given that it was called The Old Man and the Sea.”

“No sirens either. Very disappointing,” Lenora added with a matching smirk.

Mildred couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping her lips, and once she started, others quickly chimed in.

Only Ettie in her rocking chair didn’t join in. “Go sit on a tack,” she mumbled, sitting up a little straighter and directing her remark to the whole room in general.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jeanie panted, trying to reign in her laughter. “Sometimes it’s too easy.”

“Ought to be ashamed of yourself for making fun of a poor, little old woman.”

“If you were any such thing, she might be,” Mildred muttered under her breath.

“You are the all-powerful Henrietta Montclair,” Rowena reminded her.

Ettie swelled up a little bit. “Yes, well, true. So what’d we think of the book, then?”

“Not Hemingway’s best,” Phoebe piped up, leaning against her copy which she’d pulled out of her purse, which was more than double her size in her current form.

“I found it difficult to know who to root for,” Jeanie volunteered. “The old man was suffering greatly, and I know he was supposed to be the one we sympathized with, but I kept thinking about that poor marlin, dragging the man and his boat around with a hook stuck in him. And then the sharks that were hungry and only looking for a meal getting harpooned just seemed so unfair to me. I mean, some sharks are really friendly and intelligent. I’ve had long philosophical conversations with a shark before.”

“In Santiago’s defense, he can’t actually speak to fish,” Mildred pointed out, which managed to earn her yet another glare from Ettie.

“True,” Jeanie conceded. “Still, I found it all rather depressing.”

“Agreed,” Lenora and Phoebe chimed in unison.

Discussions took off from there, and snacks were passed around as conversation flew around the room. Mildred found herself thoroughly enjoying it all (although with Ettie in one of her moods, Mildred wasn’t so comfortable as to stop casting wary glances in her direction from time to time). As happy as Mildred was with her decision to move to the suburbs with Tom, it was nice to be able to relax every once in a while and just be herself. The average suburban housewife could be so judgmental, and there was no way that they would just happily accept that their next-door neighbor was actually a demon. She was always on high alert about anything that might betray her family’s actual nature. Sure, Zeke could get away with leaving his horns out because he was a boy and nobody would believe that he wasn’t just wearing a costume, but she and Tom had to be aware of their horns at all times. Still, the slight headache they caused when they had been retracted for too long was a small price to pay for the freedom to live among people and do what they wanted. Tom loved his work in banking[1], and Mildred wouldn’t change being a soccer mom for anything.

There was a certain camaraderie she shared with the other “abnormals”, as they called themselves, which she would never be able to find with Ashley Smith from across the road. Ashley was lovely, but she just didn’t understand the struggles Mildred went through on a daily basis. It didn’t help that her daughter, Abby, was rather suspicious of Torch, either. (Of course, she had a right to be, ever since the time Abby’s Barbie’s hair had mysteriously gone up in flames.) Regardless, Ashley was a friend, and a good one, at that.

Not that Mildred’s parents could understand why. They found people incredibly boring, and only enjoyed their company when they were tricking and manipulating them into doing evil. Those were the old ways, though, and Mildred wanted no part in them. She enjoyed being able to have conversations with people without wondering if there was someone with a ceremonial knife lurking just around the corner, trying to send her back to the pits of Hell, or wherever else he thought she’d come from[2].

The book discussion turned to other subjects, as it always did. There was the latest abnormal gossip to catch up on, of course, as well as an exchange of new recipes they’d discovered. Hortence passed her latest issue of Witches, Goblins and Ghouls Galore around, and Mildred was surprised to find an article[3] written by an old high school friend in it.

Before Mildred knew it, a few hours had simply flown by and she needed to get home. Zeke would be back soon, and while he was old enough that he could be left to his own devices for a while, she didn’t trust him home by himself for too long.

As if sensing her need to leave, Rowena brought them all back to the book club portion of their gathering. “All right, one more important question remains. What do we read for next month?”

“How about something fun, for a change? Let’s take a break from classic literature this month,” Jeanie proposed.

“How about something with old hags in it?” Mildred couldn’t resist remarking mockingly. She knew the term for witches drove Ettie insane, but sometimes the demon in her simply took over.

“Was that supposed to be a jab, demon?”

“Ettie,” Rowena intervened in a calming voice.

Ettie got to her feet. She was a short and podgy woman, but with her sharp, glaring eyes and self-assured attitude, she still managed to be somewhat imposing. She pushed Rowena aside and jabbed a leathery finger in Mildred’s direction. “Were you making fun of me?”

“I was just teasing, Ettie,” Mildred replied with a sigh.

“Ha, teasing an old woman. Yes, very funny. I suppose that’s what you demons find funny, is it?”

It was a challenge, and the demon in Mildred really wanted to rise to it. The part of her that had successfully assimilated into the suburbs tried to remind her that diplomacy was probably the best course of action here.

It was ignored.

“Yes, actually. Sometimes. Especially if the old woman is a crotchety old witch.”

“Millie,” Rowena warned, taking a step towards her friend.

“I knew your true nature would come out sooner or later! A leopard can’t change her spots. Oh, no, she can’t. Evil, nasty, disgusting demon,” Ettie spat as her hands began to pat down her coat. She pulled out a small jar of something red. “I’ve been waiting for this! I’ve had this vanquishing potion ready for months now!”

Mildred stepped back in alarm. She certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

Ettie wiggled the jar menacingly in her direction, and Mildred took another step back.

“Now, Ettie, you know Mildred was just kidding. She didn’t mean anything by it. Just like Jeanie and Lenora were joking earlier, and you didn’t try to vanquish them,” Rowena tried to step between them, but Ettie waved her back, all the while keeping her glare firmly directed at Mildred.

The rest of the group fanned out around Mildred, and, while she was touched by the show of support, she couldn’t help noticing the sizeable gap between her and her nearest friend.

What will Tom say to Zeke if I’m vanquished for behavior I’d have scolded him for? Mildred thought ruefully.

“Yes, well mermaids are useful creatures, and I ain’t got no husband for Lenora to sing into the rocks, so she doesn’t bother me much,” Ettie argued, but the hand that held the potion lowered slightly, and Mildred took that as a good sign.

“Ettie, I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I really was just joking. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have provoked you.”

“Oh, now that your life is in danger you’re putting on the nice act again, is that it?” Ettie turned her attention back to Mildred, who really wished she hadn’t.

“Come on, Ettie, you know that Millie’s not like the demons of old,” Lenora chimed in, her voice taking on a distinct sing-song quality to it, and Mildred knew that she was attempting to use her siren powers to sway Ettie’s mood.

“Just ‘cause she acts civilized, don’t mean she is,” Ettie retorted. “And don’t you go trying your siren tricks with me, young lady.”

Lenora backed off.

Just on the cusp of her hearing, Mildred heard Phoebe whisper, “If we all rush her at once, maybe one of us can grab the potion before she has a chance to use it.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Mildred was aware of the others nodding.

Oh no, Mildred thought. There’s so much that can go wrong with that plan. She opened her mouth to tell them not to try it, but she was too late.

“NOW!” Hortence led the charge.

Mildred curled back in horror as the group lunged as one just a second too late, because Ettie had thrown the jar.

It felt like the world was moving in slow motion as the potion flew towards her, toppling end over end. The glass shattered at her feet and a thick red goo splattered across her legs. Mildred let out a yelp, closed her eyes and braced for the pain, then realized that she wasn’t feeling any. In fact, she felt completely fine. She opened first one eye, and then the other, to discover the others staring at her in a mixture of horror and confusion. She glanced down at her legs. They weren’t smoking or disintegrating or any of the other reactions she’d expected.

Mildred straightened up, and then the smell hit her. “It smells sweet. Like -“

“Strawberries,” said Hortence. Goblins had an incredibly keen sense of smell, so Mildred didn’t argue.

Phoebe flew over and ran her finger through the red goo. She brought her finger to her nose and sniffed, then she tentatively stuck out her tongue and tasted it. “Strawberry preserves? Your vanquishing potion is jam?” she asked, turning back to Ettie.

“Rats! Wrong jar. I’m sure I have th-“

“Grab her!” Rowena shouted and before Ettie had a chance to pat down her pockets again, there was a mermaid restraining one arm, a siren on the other, and a goblin planted firmly around both of her legs.

Phoebe fluttered over and began to search through the struggling Ettie’s pockets, eventually pulling out a small flask.

Rowena took it and flipped it open. She wrinkled her nose. “Whiskey? Did you drink some before you came today, Ettie?”

Ettie looked up sheepishly. “It’s good stuff. Anyway, when you reach my age, you’re allowed to indulge when you want. It’s hardly going to impact my longevity now, is it?”

Phoebe did another quick check, made easier by Ettie’s lack of a struggle this time. “That’s all she has on her.”

Rowena sighed. “Ettie, did you ever actually make the vanquishing potion?”

“I meant to, but then I had things to read, didn’t I?” Ettie replied, shaking her arms loose from their captors.

Hortence detached herself from Ettie’s legs and stepped away, though she remained hovering and ready to pounce again if necessary.

Mildred breathed out a long sigh of relief, and then she started to laugh. It bubbled up out of seemingly nowhere, starting as almost a giddy giggle, and quickly devolving into a hearty, whole-body belly laugh as the tension drained from her body.

Laughter, being as contagious among abnormals as it was among humans, spread around the room until even Ettie had a sheepish chuckle going.

“All right, everyone, I think that’s enough excitement for this month’s meeting. Back to human form!” Rowena declared once the laughter had finally subsided and Mildred was heaving for breath in a comfy armchair.

Around the room faces morphed while sizes and colors changed. Mildred felt her horns slip back into her skin as she tucked her tail back into her jeans, then stood to check that her eyes had reverted back to their human form in the hall mirror. Jeanie, who’d already turned her tail back into legs for better mobility during all of the excitement, downed a glass of water in the corner.

“We still haven’t decided on a book for next month,” Phoebe pointed out as she stooped over to pick up her purse, teetering slightly as she readjusted to her new size.

An idea struck Mildred. “What about Good Omens? It’s got witches in it. Proper ones. No warts.” It was her version of holding out an olive branch to Ettie. She didn’t want her to go home and decide to brew up an actual vanquishing potion, after all.

Ettie studied her for a second, then nodded her approval. “Sorry about the threat. Have to make sure I keep you demons in line, you understand. For old time’s sake.”

Mildred knew that that was as good an olive branch as she was going to get in return, so she smiled warmly. “I understand.”

“Does Good Omens work for everyone?” Rowena asked the group.

Everyone nodded.

“It’s funny,” Phoebe commented her approval.

“And not a classic,” Jeanie added.

“Perfect. It’s set, then,” Rowena declared. “See you all next month. Millie, I’ll see you at the boys’ soccer game on Saturday?”

“Yes. Oh, and do you want to do brunch on Sunday?”

“Sounds good to me!”

The group made their way to the doorway, and Mildred even offered her arm to Ettie when they reached the steps down to the walk. Ettie hesitated, but then graciously took her arm and hobbled down the steps.

“I just have one question,” Hortence said from behind them, her gruff voice the only remaining sign of her true identity. “Do you always keep strawberry jam on your person?”

Ettie grinned. “Of course. It’s good on biscuits.”

Mildred laughed as she headed to her car. She felt a little light-headed after the excitement, but all-in-all today had been good.

“Oh, Mom, I need you to sign this,” Zeke said, pulling a rumpled piece of paper from his backpack and handing it to her before turning nonchalantly back to his homework.

Mildred let her eyes dart over the words on the page and sighed. “Detention? Again?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Zeke declared.

Mildred regarded her son skeptically. She wasn’t especially looking forward to this year’s school pictures, given that Zeke’s horns had been out when she’d got home and his nice shirt had a large brown stain on the front of it, and after the events at book club, this was just another headache she didn’t need. “Oh, no? Whose fault was it?”

“Sage spelled my tail out into the hallway and it tripped this kid, Greg, right? And he thought I’d stuck my leg out on purpose to trip him, even though it wasn’t even my leg that had tripped him, but obviously I had to put my tail away quickly and I couldn’t exactly blame it, ‘cause you and Dad always say I can’t tell anyone about being a demon and –“

Mildred held up a hand. “Breathe, Zeke.”

Zeke took a deep breath and continued. “Well, anyway, Greg pushed me, and I couldn’t just not push him back, so I did, then he pushed me again, but then Sage stepped in and pushed him back, and Mr. Horton saw, so now we’ve all got detention,” he concluded.

Mildred sighed, but her ears perked up as she heard the front door open and close. Tom could come up with Zeke’s punishment tonight. She’d dealt with plenty for the day. “Get your father to sign it,” Mildred said, giving the piece of paper back to her son, then standing to greet her husband and start on dinner.

“Hey, honey. How was your day?” Tom asked, greeting her with a kiss.

Mildred shook her head. Where to begin? “Oh, it was just another day in the life of a demon soccer mom,” she replied with a grin.

Tom raised his eyebrows curiously, but Mildred just shook her head again. She’d tell him the details later. Anyway, it wasn’t really a lie. She had to say this about being a demon in the suburbs: it was never boring.

“What about yours?”

“Same old, same old. I worked some good fine print into a loan contract today.”

Mildred chuckled. “You’re such a demon sometimes.”

“That’s why you married me,” Tom replied, kissing her on the cheek, then he turned his attention to his son, and Mildred set to work on dinner.

Outside a small blaze started in the corner of the yard when Torch let out a loud belch.

Mildred sighed and reached for the fire extinguisher.

---

[1] Tom was a bank executive, which was really the perfect job for him. His demon instincts served him well and made him competitive amongst his peers, while helping him blend almost indistinguishably with his human colleagues.

[2] She was actually originally from Los Angeles, but she’d moved away for college and hadn’t looked back.

[3] “The Pros and Cons of Cooking with Wolfsbane in Mixed Company”