Wednesday, February 22, 2012

It Hurt / The Plumbing Speaks

Dear Miss Gulch,
After careful consideration we must regretfully inform you that your application for admission to the Academy of Witchcraft  is denied.


At present we are only accepting students who are accomplished in original research. Your application lacks this. If you have new information you wish to append to your application in light of this, you must re-apply to the Entry Board for a complete--

Furiously, Alice Gulch ignited the letter in her hands without reading the rest. My third rejection in a month.

She dropped the flaming paper to the floor and clenched her fist. They had all said basically the same thing, painful because it was true: she'd done no original research, made no unique contributions to the field of black magic.

Her greatest accomplishment was also her worst nightmare - that cursed broom. Damned thing could not even fly through Mondays. She could just imagine what they would say if she tried to brag about it to the Entry Board. A time machine that doesn't work? How original!

An angry clatter sounded from the cabinet beneath the sink. Grandpa R. was making a ruckus again. Alice never had liked him when he was alive, but apparently he had liked her enough to haunt her house. Specifically, her plumbing.

"I can think of more dignified things to haunt, you crazy old coot," Alice shouted to her pipes.

"Such disrespect! I should curse you where you stand!" boomed a voice from beneath the sink--an unmistakable voice.

"Grandpa R.?" Alice cried in surprise.

"Foolish child! Do not sound so surprised," he boomed as he materialized from mist before her eyes. "Did you expect an expert necromancer to stay dead forever? Did you not know my day of returning was bound to come?"

Sulkily, Alice protested. "You've never spoken to me from beyond the grave before," she said. "You've just sort of... gummed up the drains."

The apparition seemed not to enjoy the reminder of his humble beginnings. He frowned. "Quiet," he commanded. "I am returned to help you."

Alice looked doubtful.

"Yes, it is true. You want to learn from me. I want to continue my experiments. Join me, Alice - let me teach you my arts! Together we can achieve great things!"

"You want to teach me?" Alice had never been interested in Necromancy. So much dirt and grime! Where was the sweet glow of copper, the shiny brass, the woody verbena?

"In life I always longed for a student," Grandpa R. said. "Necromancy is lonely work."

Lonely because no one can stand to do it, Alice thought.

Grandpa R. continued. "I knew one day you would see the value in it... and that I needed to return on that day." He peered around the room. "What has made you ready?"

Suddenly Alice knew. Necromancy was about as unexplored in Academia as a sewer pit. Talk about no competition... With a necromancy paper under her belt, she'd be an instant shoe-in for the Academy!

"Alright, Grandpa," she said with a smile. "Let's do this."