The Three Witches - Call for Help

This article is an answer to @Just1dood 's SOS call My Neighbor - The 3 Witches

It took me a while to write this. I have a screaming two month old and a talkative seven years old to attend to. I'm just so happy I finished it somehow.

Hello Dood,

You might be disappointed on how I wrote this. I tried so hard to make it light-read, but it always turn to being heavy and serious. It felt like it didn't bring justice to the original story. Anyhow, I hope you'll like it.

***

The bell hanging at the tavern door made an adorable ring. The sound was so out-of-place in a room full of banging of wooden mugs, drunk laughter and non-coherent conversation from tables full of, if not tired, then lost souls having their fill of the village rum.

But for our fair maiden, Kurdapya, it was the most delightful sound she would never get tired of hearing on that day. She darted her eyes to the door. Leaned forward and made a quick scan to the person who just entered.

Disappointed at the sight of an overdressed lady with blotch-like red on the cheeks, Kurdapya heaved a sigh. She rested herself again on the chair and took a small sip of her rum.

She was growing impatient. She was supposed to meet someone--a man. To her dismay, not one had fit the description yet.

Kurdapya made another sip on the mug. It was almost empty. Yet again she bowed her head to make her black hair cover her face. She somehow found it useful in blocking the skin-crawling stares and unsettling murmurings from the nearby tables. She wasn't used to it, taverns were not her thing in the past.

But there she was, beginning to resent for being there in the first place. Her date was awfully late. But she needed his help. She wanted justice.

It was a week ago at their village, she was fuming, wanting to hack someone's neck. Who wouldn't?

She just went out to take her puppy bear for the morning walk. It took her some time than usual as she made a detour to a friend's house.

Kurdapya had a good chat with her friend. She went home in a very good mood, even greeted some of her nice neighbors on the way. But not that long.

Her blood started to boil upon seeing her favorite neighbor hauling a good amount of Prince of Fruits she expected to harvest the next day.

She walked raging towards her gate. Her favorite neighbor had done this numerous times and she had enough already.

"How could you, Aling Bebang. That's my tree!"

"Your tree, my dear? Well, the branches perched outside your gate. I helped myself for some." Aling Bebang smiled showing black crooked teeth. 

"For some? That's a basket!" Kurdapya puffed some nasty smoke out of her nose. She was about to say more, but her anger tied up her tongue. She just couldn't imagine such an inconsiderate hag.

"Well, dear, I'm going now. Thanks again."

Aling Bebang walked clumsily away with a basket of Prince of Fruits. Kurdapya was left rooted at the spot.

That night, Kurdapya let out her frustration at her friend's house. She brought a bottle of strong ale--because, why not?

She talked and drank, drank and talked. She narrated how she already estimated her profit if she should manage to sell all her fruit. Of how she planned to save coins to fix her failing toilet.

Kurdapya's voice became hoarse. She gulped the ale from the glass nonstop. She began to blurt out nonsense things. That Aling Bebang was actually a witch, and her black teeth were the result of eating children.

Now this good friend of hers that we might call Shisha, poured her another glass of the ale.

Kurdapya could not ask for more from Shisha. Not only that she was a good friend, but a good listener too.

Little did she know that Shisha was the best listener. In fact, she was fond of collecting news. The good ones she would put away inside her box, the bad ones she felt obliged to share to her circle of news collectors--with added nutrition.

At the moment, she was savoring the juiciness of Kurdapya's misfortune. Nodding once in a while, patting her friend's shoulder; wearing her sympathetic mask so skillfully.

To keep the conversation flowing, Shisha felt the need to contribute at least. She fed Kurdapya with the little information she freshly got from one  of the news collectors.

It was the Hidden Man, the man who would do unconventional stuff for a price. The only problem was, the man was well hidden, he chose his client in a very random manner. It has been a long time that they haven't heard from him, he became a myth.

Not until the latest news. It flew around like some fermented fart to the legion of news collectors. The myth was not myth anymore when the Hidden Man had answered the call of the baron.

Everyone knew that the baron had a lot of shady businesses, it was a question why the Hidden Man chose to answer him; for the Hidden Man was known to have righteous discernment. Nevertheless, the fact that he answered someone for such a long time was indeed news--great news even.

The morning after, Kurdapya, despite still being groggy, prepared the things that were needed for the ritual and offerings to call the Hidden Man.

She knew it by heart for it was a village song.

"Call the Hidden Man, fly a bat-shaped kite in the morning." Kurdapya wasted all her paper on making a kite that looked more like a turd than a bat. She managed to fly it after a lot of tries in the middle of the rainy season.

"Call the Hidden Man, jump like a frog a twenty, squawk like a goat." Ridiculous as it sounded, Kurdapya did jump like a frog. She made sure that she did it at midnight so that no one may see. Now her problem was how to squawk like a goat, goats don't squawk.

"Call the Hidden Man, tie a king's neck with a red ribbon." Didn't actually mean literally. It only meant to tie a red ribbon to a King of Fruit still attached to the tree. The Hidden Man would collect the fruit if he chose the owner of the tree as his client.

"Call the Hidden Man, a barking cat will bring you good news."

Kurdapya found herself sitting at the far corner of the tavern. Two days ago she heard a barking. It didn't sound like her puppy bear, her pet had an echoing bark--this one sounded like a cat.

True enough, Kurdapya saw a white cat sitting at her window sill. She backed away and was ready to break a run. How could a cat bark?

But she stopped herself, she remembered the Hidden Man song. She couldn’t believe that the mysterious man answered him. She wasn’t expecting it.

***

I didn't expect this to be long. The next parts will be written until Kurdapya's problem will be resolved.

Anyway, I also wanted to flex my avatar and my signature. I finally made one for myself. The cute little turtle, I drew in Photoshop and using a mouse. Isn't it cute? I'm proud of myself hahaha.