Sabrina & Jon - Day of Consequence

Sabrina and Jon smiled at each other over a plate of fries at Lenords, dipping liberally into ketchup and barbeque sauces, occasionally feeding each other fries from across the table. It seemed like a good omen to sit at the exact table they shared for their first candid meeting about each other, one of the biggest steps each took to the relationship they had. And yet Jon's side of the table watched for what kind of omen would come that day, appearing happy but still keeping a close eye on his lover. Seemed like a sound idea as he noticed her veneer of sly satisfaction, for something that had happened, or would happen soon.

The why wasn't a total surprise, knowing that her personal favorite date other than October 31st was any Friday the 13th. For some reason, elements like the supernatural and superstitions were easy to gravitate towards, whether it was the witchy persona, or just an excuse to play around with perceptions. How muted the day before and their Saturday so far left him deeply suspicious of what was to come. It was all too quiet, like she'd forgotten about it, when it was more likely she made him forget about something, with the exception of the homemade superstition museum she'd asked him to go to without her the night before.

"So, do you think it will be a nice weekend?"

Jon attempted to be as vague as possible, never discerning whether he meant the weather or best-laid-plans to be unfurled.

"I don't know," she smiled, clearly lying. "What do you think..." The way she ended her tone on that last word didn't hide where her mind was headed. To keep things neutral, after consuming another fry, he showed her his crossed fingers. Her smile widened slightly at it; he felt her legs crossing under the table, the tip of her ankle boot rubbing against the calf and knee gently. Jon raised an eyebrow at her, trying to make it the only thing seeming piqued about him. She didn't make it any easier as she gave up that motion to remove her feet from the boots and set them into his lap, lounging there, anklets crossed casually. He spent a few minutes controlling his breathing as he made his lap comfortable for both of them.

"Don't get too speechless on me now. We still need to go over your trip yesterday."

"Right, the great 'House of Superstition.'" Jon didn't bother hiding how bored he sounded of the house name and mere concept. Just as Sabrina carried as much love for superstition for the both of them, Jon carried an equal amount of skepticism and disbelief, so much so he was surprised even a hypnotist embedded in his head got him to go by himself to such a silly place.

"I'm glad you think it was great," satisfaction ignoring sarcasm laced her voice as a pamphlet from the establishment emerged from her purse. He recognized it as one he'd seen from the house. The naked suspicion on his face received a quick answer.

"No Jonathan, I didn't attend myself. You did for the both of us. And I told you that you might enjoy it."

"Who says I did enjoy it?" came a quick counter.

"I would. But then again, I never said when you would enjoy it." The assertion confused while soft heels and the balls of her feet enjoyed running themselves over the fabric of his jeans.

"Now let's see what you hit at the house." Sabrina's attention narrowed to the unfolded paper, a dark background with white font, as if for Halloween. Drawn circles strewn about the paper looked like the kind he'd make, shifting his memory back to the prior night. The Superstition House was apparently someone's side-gig, a house refashioned to seem hauntingly decorated , but much less tacky. It resembled an interactive museum moreso, giving historical origins, but with the added twist of letting people decide to test their luck on whether to do or not do something superstition-related, finding out after if their actions yielded good or bad luck. Lesser-known superstitions were involved, nothing as infamous as stepping under ladders or open umbrellas indoors. The entry charge didn't seem so bad towards something so creative.

"Okay, the bell they have. Did you ring it?"

Jon thought back to standing before the bell, his hand reaching out for the rope attached, hesitating as he re-read the description about a connection to evil spirits, not specifying whether the sound would be an attractor or repellent. He complimented the timer set next to the description, a smart move to not have the indecisive or over-thinkers like him hogging the challenge. Taking a chance, he grasped and shook it to ring the bell a few times. As he recalled the memory, he began to consciously respond to Sabrina's question, only to find her writing as if she'd already received it.

"Good choice," she uttered, writing on a separate piece of paper. "How about that circle?"

He remembered a perfectly painted circle in the middle of what was usually a living room, a stand nearby reading with the same connection as the bell, vaguely mentioning evil spirits, asking if he should step in the circle or stay outside of it. A foot hovered over the threshold of the circle, trying to decide whether to step onto it or not. He knew then why Sabrina told him to go by himself; he'd be searching her face for clues as to whether he should or shouldn't. Boldness rose in him as he stepped into the circle before the official minute was up.

"Another good choice," Sabrina told him as if responding to thoughts we was a little more sure were being narrated while recalled. "The tally is looking good for you so far."

"Tally?"

"Don't remember me mentioning that?"

"No..."

"Perfect. Let's just say, things are in the plus column for you so far." Since bringing out the pamphlet, she didn't rise to meet his gaze once. She looked studious as she was; he wondered if she was still trying not to give anything away.

"Oh, and speaking of purrfect," he loved the sound of her rolling her R's, with an excellent feline seduction in her tone, based on one of her favorite comic characters for sure. "Come across any black cats while you were there?"

"More like they came across me," he said recalling a group of kittens resting in a closed off room, greeted by someone looking after them. A sign above indicating most were from a rescue. Most of them were sleeping in the cushioned area or eating, but one particularly cute ball of fur came up to him. Mewling inquisitively like it had something to say, he stayed still as it smelled his shoes, and leaned against him affectionately. It stood out from the litter a little with a touch of grey around her right ear. It tried to claw its way up his pants, but having grown up with cats, he knew how to stop it, stroking it gently to the ground, playing with it a little. He contemplated just staying to play with the talkative cat, merely saying he visited the whole house. But he knew Sabrina would find out the truth later. He said a goodbye to the cat and smiled as if it responded and understood.

"Definitely a good sign, the cat coming to you instead of leaving you."

"Yeah it was."

"And the coin?"

A row of quarters were neatly lined up on the ground before allowing him to enter into a bedroom. He picked one up at random, not noticing that the description next to the room was for the quarters, not what was in the room. He clearly remembered picking up a coin on the tails side.

"Ok," Sabrina noted, the less-enthused inflection told him that was bad luck, since his memories couldn't tell him what that was supposed to mean so far.

"You had a lot going on in that one room, didn't you?" Jon heard as he tried to peek over to her notes to see where the tally lied, not realizing he'd gently began talking while recalling the room with the threshold of quarters.

"Yeah, there were three or four challenges in there."

"Was it three, or was it four?" Sabrina queried.

"Um..." He'd started at the elephant portrait, given a choice of where to place it on the wall, facing a door, or facing another wall. A developed drive to make quicker decisions had him hanging it across from the door. He looked to a broom next to the bed, read something about evil spirits and spells cast on the bed, given the choice of away from the bed or right next to it. In his quickest decision since entering the house, he set it next to the bed. The final challenge was laying in the bed and deciding whether to get up on the side he started, or on the other. He found it interesting that a separate giveaway to more good luck was that a bed arranged from the head pointing north to feet pointing south ensured the best sleep. He laid on that bed and a light wave of trance consumed him for nearly a full minute, proving the theory correct.

Jon woke up from the same side of the bed he started on, and woke from his recollection to see his redheaded girlfriend trying to hide her smirk.

"Clever," he said deadpanned. "How is the tally going?"

"Its...competitive."

The tally ending in bad luck, or how the tally overall results would manifest themselves after, he wasn't sure which thought scared him more.

"They had a symbolic Blarney stone there too?"

"Yeah," was the absent reply.

"Did you kiss it?"

"No."

"How interesting..."

Were it not for watching her so deep in-thought and feeling her warm feet make his lap even warmer, he would've been more annoyed at her cryptic reactions.

"Heh, knock on wood. What good fortune did you mention on that one?"

"That the experience was almost over."

She shook her head. "And how many times did you knock?"

"Uh...twice."

"Ouch."

"'Ouch' what?"

"Hate to brake it to you sweetie, but it should've been three knocks."

"What's the difference? I noted my good fortune and then knocked on wood. Should it really matter if I only did it enough for a knock knock joke?"

"Knock knock," she began.

Remiss as he was to play, he still responded "who's there?"

"Unlucky."

"Unlucky who?"

"Unlucky you for thinking arguing against tradition will get you anywhere."

Jon just sighed heavily and let her continue.

"Spilled some salt, did you?"

"No, they left a salt shaker on an intentionally wobbly table that was easy to bump into."

"Uh huh, and which shoulder did you throw some of the salt over?"

"The right one?"

"Right as in right or right as in correct?"

"Right as in right, as in correct, right?"

"Wrong. It's the left shoulder."

"Who thought left shoulder was the correct one?"

"...everybody, sweetie. Everybody." The condescension in her voice made him want to gently pinch her feet, but he knew better than to upset a pair of happy feet so close to his manhood.

"And a wishbone too. Which half?"

"...smaller," the resignation in his voice made her smirk again.

"Looks like you picked up a few things too. Ooh, a necklace. What kind?"

Jon thought back to the choices available on the way out, remembering that Sabrina "insisted" that he pick out one color. As he thought about it, a sensation around his clavicle started spreading, making his hand reach to his neck and discover the necklace he'd chosen. Hidden under his shirt, he brought it to light to reveal a blue shimmer. He smiled as he noticed his companion bring her necklace out, smiling as she toyed with it. He smiled at how the stones of each resembled one another, but hers clearly held greater luster, with depths parts of him were incapable of forgetting.

Blue eyes and red lips simply smiled at that before looking back down at other things he'd circled.

"You also got some ivy, rosemary...good choice, or choices." The pause was honed in on, parsing her word choice for clues as to what she was withholding, if anything. She continued to give him nothing as she took the results and jotted them down on the small tally sheet. Nervousness arose as a reddish eyebrow raised once it seemed like the results were finalized, unsure of what it all meant.

"So..." she began casually, compounding on the suspension.

"So?"

"How do you think you did, given what you remember?"

Jon's own mental tally, recalling his feelings with each action, added up to a net confidence, reasoning that all his actions supposedly produced enough good luck to offset the bad.

"I feel good, so that should be a good sign."

The way her feet played in his lap, he thought it she was in tacit agreement.

"Really?" she finally looked up at him, a little puzzled at his answer.

Thrown for a small loop with the actions of her head and feet, he opted not to lose his confidence so easily.

"Really. I'm pretty sure everything I did put me in good standing with the supernatural forces or whatever. Let me see the pamphlet."

She slid it across the table, amused at how he gripped it, ready and eager to prove her wrong. He noticed that there were so many words written on it than last time, as if the next day he was free to pay attention to all the details. It made sense when he received his after exiting, since it was pretty much a cheat sheet for everything he'd circled. Reading the descriptions, tallying everything with his fingers, and then on a napkin with a pen, his confidence rose again.

Jon's Tally:

Good

-Blarney

-bed

-bell

-necklace

-cat

-circle

-elephant

-ivy

-rosemary

Bad

-broom

-coin

-salt

-wishbone

"Ok, the salt, broom, the quarter, and the wishbone were bad luck. Everything else should've been good. That's like 4 points of bad out of 13."

"Mmmmm, not really."

"Wha-you read the descriptions right?"

"I did. And I believe you did, though we seem to disagree on the broom, the ivy, rosemary, and necklace you brought back. So by my tally, it was closer, but..." She slid her own tally across the table.

Sabrina's Tally:

Good

-bed

-bell

-broom

-cat

-circle

-elephant

Bad

-Blarney

-coin

-necklace

-salt

-wishbone

-ivy

-rosemary

Jon went back and forth between lists, and the cheat sheet, trying to figure out the discrepancies.

"Wait, 'a house with ivy growing on the side is protected from witchcraft and evil.' 'Blue beads are protection from witches.' 'Rosemary at the door will keep witches away.' Those sound like good..."

Jon rattled away several of the superstitions until a common factor revealed itself. Eyelashes rapidly, playfully, batted in Jon's direction when he looked back at her. Sabrina's bright, grinning expression told him how long she'd she'd been waiting for him to make the connection.

He looked at her incredulously, trying to figure out a logical way to prove his point, but failing, settling on the last point they argued on.

"'Don't leave your broomstick next to the bed or evil spells will be cast on it?'" He quoted as a question, wondering why the bad luck he caused was on her list as good luck.

"What?" she merely shrugged. "A witch's broom casting spells on a bed doesn't sound sexy to you too?"

Setting the papers aside, Jon buried his face in his hands for a second, chuckling, resting his weary logic before bringing it back to compete with one whose point grew more clear by the second. Instead of letting the silence fill the space between them, Sabrina spoke.

"Now you see why your list wasn't exactly accurate. Accurate for others, sure. But most others don't enjoy constant enchantments and hypnotic spells like you do."

"But...the wishbone, nothing was said about bad luck for the shorter end. And..."

"I'll give you that Jonathan, it's not a matter of bad luck. But providing no good luck there to counter it doesn't necessarily help you. 'And...'" She supplied the continuation he didn't finish yet.

"And..that isn't magic," he spoke in his palms, exasperated.

"'Magic' is often semantics and subjectivity. Sure, there's science explaining what happens to your mind when you go under, but has anyone ever been able to disprove the phenomenon as not magic? If hypnosis is deemed natural, how would you not consider a single finger snap or word or look that causes instant, perhaps unprompted focus anything but 'super' natural? Who gets to decide that what is and what isn't magic? Surely the practitioners should, I say."

"And all the hypnotists out there who would disagree with you about the magic claims?"

"Well, first, none of them have spoken with me for clarification on the matter. You should see the ones who have."

The wink she gave didn't surprise, but also didn't exactly comfort him.

"And second, their misplaced claims can't discount dictionaries, thesauruses, literature, and even many hypnotists subconsciously seem to perpetuate hypnosis as synonymous with magically-inclined words. 'She bewitched him with her knowledge of the mind.' 'He slipped under a surreptitious spell of her making.' 'The magic of her words placed him in a deep state of hypnosis.'"

"I think those are really just expressions instead of their beliefs."

"Or hints as to what they really believe, deep down inside. Why choose those words among others otherwise? I could go on all day with more examples; I might be persuaded to do so, with a little cute begging by the way."

"Of course she would include that," he thought, both of them he wouldn't beg, not with where he was and in his current frame of mind. All her initial talk of the weekend amounted to how much good luck he'd accumulated the day before, and he had to question how much he really wanted to argue his point, even if just for the sake of arguing, or to not give up so easily. Fortunately for his libido, she had ways of quelling that fairly easily.

"But let's not forget one other thing from our lists Jonathan."

"What would that be?" he looked back to his own list to see what else she believed was awry.

"The Blarney stone."

"What about it?"

"You said you didn't kiss the symbolic one yesterday. As a child in Ireland, I kissed the authentic Blarney stone at Blarney Castle. Do you know what the effect is?"

He didn't answer, but reached for the explanation and read it to himself "'the Kisser will be gifted with persuasive eloquence.'"

"That's why it's listed as bad on your list?"

"It's not as if not-kissing it helps you any. Had you, maybe you could persuade me of otherwise. Alas..."

Jon shook his head again. "You know this is ridiculous, right?"

"Is it? How many times have you fallen just to the sound of my voice? Doesn't it seem so powerful that you'd swear a mystical power imbued me with 'persuasive eloquence'?"

"If that's true, why bother going to school to study hypnosis?"

"To see for myself if it was just something science hadn't explained yet, or a real force I possessed that convinced anyone to do what I wanted."

Jon was impressed with how quickly with the question he asked on the fly to trip up her Blarney stone claim, and Sabrina was equally impressed with how automatically her response was to a question she didn't think she was ready for. Both looked at each other for signs of concession. Finding none, Sabrina smiled and continued on.

"If you notice from the correct list, bad luck narrowly beat out good. Had you kissed the Blarney stone, not only would you have had the tide of good luck turn in your favor, you also would have been imbued with a gift I have relished in for many years. Had it been any other item on the list to create more bad, and you kissed the Blarney stone, you may have had a chance to convince me that what you did shouldn't count or that you are deserving of more luck. But you made your choice, and leave me with all the power."

Expressive facial protests decrying his powerlessness didn't faze the Blarney stone kisser one bit.

"Even as a young lass," A low, velvet tone smoothly began pouring traces of Sabrina's Irish accent into her voice. "I knew there was something special, tangible about what I had kissed. It lingered on my lips like lipstick, seeping into my vocal chords, feeling them enhanced, empowered. Simple words became magic words, syllables and sentences infused with the mystic allure of articulation. The things I said sounded so poised, so passionate, so meaningful, they couldn't help but take it to heart and mind, happy to comply and be complicit with any whim that crossed my lips. Boys knelt, fawning. Girls befriended, bedazzled. Adults agreed, adverse to other possibilities."