Bird Hex Accusation

He was replacing the diverter valve on a boiler, or trying to, as a small dog kept scampering into the tiny bathroom, yap-yapping. A young woman with a crying newborn baby sat in the living room of the flat, shouting for the dog to come back.  

‘How long you gunna be?’ she asked.

‘Not much,’ he shouted, managing to scoop his foot under the dog and nudge it away.

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Baby wants feeding.’

The dog ran off.

It needled him the way customers tried to hurry him up. He was desperate himself to finish the job and get in his van and drive over to Maggie’s. He’d met her the other week, chatting at the bar during a break in a pub quiz. He ended up back at her place. She was weird, telling him that she was a witch. She had these occult tattoos and her place was stacked with crystals that she said contained cosmic energies, and there were tarot cards, creepy stuffed black birds and the like. He could overlook her freakiness because the sex was unreal. They arranged for him to go over again, only he cancelled on her last minute, saying it was because of a job when really it was due to a mate getting tickets for a quarter final game in the Champions League. Maggie said if he cancelled on her a second time, he’d regret it, which was a bit intense, but he guessed that all witches were slightly psycho.

He liked Maggie’s body and wanted more of her, so he needed to finish the job, get home, shower, and be at her place for seven sharp. It was already a quarter to five.

The new valve went in and he started to connect the sections, which somehow made him think of sex with Maggie.  

‘Nearly done,’ he shouted.

The girl didn’t answer. He noticed the baby had stopped crying.

He packed up his tools and filled in the form. ‘If you can sign this, I’ll be on my merry way,’ he said.

The girl was on the two-seater sofa, breastfeeding. There was a shawl covering the child’s head and her breast, but he felt like he was intruding.

‘Sorry, baby’s starving,’ she said.

‘It’s all good,’ he replied.

The girl had that spaced out, startled air about her that he’d seen in new mothers before, especially his mates’ wives and girlfriends. It was no doubt to do with the lack of sleep, but he wondered if it was something else too, as if they were in shock about what had happened to their bodies and lives. He wondered if motherhood, in the early days at least, wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

‘Can you sign this?’ he said.

‘I’m feeding.’

He took the hint and said, ‘I’ll wait in the kitchen.’

‘If you would.’

He stood by the electric cooker, checked his watch and realised he wasn’t going to make it to Maggie’s place for seven. He pulled out his phone and messaged her.

He felt his mobile instantly vibrate and read the reply: You were warned.

He typed back, Maggie, I honestly can’t help it. I’ll be about 30 – 45 mins late. I’m gutted about this. Just finishing up here – can’t wait to see you and have some fun. xx

She didn’t answer, which made him feel like a mug.  

The girl called him in finally and signed the form. Once she closed the front door, he headed along the balcony and down the stairs of the block of flats to where his van was parked. He thought he saw movement in the front window. As he got closer, he realised there was a bird inside the vehicle, flapping its wings and smashing against the windshield. He stood on the pavement, watching the bird butting repeatedly against the panes of glass. He reached for the van key in his trouser pocket. It wasn’t there. He tapped the other pocket and frisked himself. He put his toolbox on the bonnet, knowing already that his key would not be in there.

All the while the bird went crazy, trapped in the van.

Looking up, he saw a flotilla of dark clouds in the sky.

He ran back to the flat and the girl reluctantly let him in. He searched the bathroom and kitchen and had to return empty handed to his van. He stood and watched the black coloured bird darting back and forth. It looked exactly the same as the stuffed ones in Maggie’s place. It started to dawn on him what had gone on.

He called Steve, his boss – who everyone called Bucket – and said, ‘I’ve lost my keys.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘That’s not it, though.’

‘What you on about?’

‘There’s a bird in my van.’

‘A bird? What you telling me that for?’

He paused and then realised what Bucket meant. ‘No, not that kind of bird – one with feathers.’

‘A bird-bird?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Locked in your van?’

‘Exactly.’

‘How’d it get there?’

‘Well, I think a witch I’ve been shagging has put a curse on me.’

Bucket waited a few seconds and said, ‘Are you alright?’

‘Evil magic,’ he replied, ‘it’s real.’

‘Nah, I bet it’s a crow. They’re sneaky fuckers. You must have left a window open.’

‘It’s not a crow and the windows are shut.’

‘Did you lock the van properly? Where are you?’

He told Bucket the location and said,  ‘This bird will die if I don’t set it free.’

Bucket sighed long and hard. ‘I’m more interested in how you lost your keys.’

‘I don’t fucking know, do I? It’s probably part of her witchcraft.’

‘Don’t get arsy with me, sunshine.’

‘I’ll have to smash the window.’

‘No – don’t do that. Wait there and I’ll drive over with a spare set from the depot.’

A fork of lightning flickered across the sky. Seconds passed and there was a heavy roll of thunder. It sent the bird into greater panic, flinging itself into the windshield. Globules of blood marked the glass.

‘There’s no time. I have to save the bird,’ he said, hanging up. He grabbed a hammer, walked round to the passenger window and swung his arm back and smashed the glass. He stuck his arm through to open the door.

It was too late. The bird was on the driver’s seat, twitching. He picked the bird up and held it gently in his hands, feeling the life in its thin bones fade away.  

Oblivious to the rain and the lightning and the thunder, he set the bird down on a section of wet grass.

Maggie would tell him that he was touched by madness.

She could deny the hex all she liked.

He knew the truth about what she’d done.