Career Girl

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

Career Girl
By Plot Roach

The shop bell chimed above the door, another customer had entered. Madame Zanda checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure her façade was flawless before greeting the stranger. Appearances are everything, she thought.

It was a business woman in a grey pantsuit that did nothing to show her female form. This one depends on deed and smarts, not looks, Zanda told herself. She must be a career girl. “Welcome to my humble establishment.” she greeted the woman. “How may I be of assistance?”

The woman looked around, her face sneering ever so slightly at the props Madame Zanda had placed about the room for effect. Beside the usual religious artifacts (cheap knockoffs she had purchased at the local flea market that she ‘antiqued’ herself using spray on patina and generous doses of dust), there were various odd bits and pieces of things in jars of colored liquid. A few taxidermy animals lined the walls to finish the eerie effect.

“I heard that you can extend a person’s life.”

“Straight to the point, I like that in a customer.”

“Can you or not?”

“Rude, however, I do not appreciate.” Madame Zanda scolded.

“I’m sorry, you see I’m in a bit of a rush-”

“For yourself or someone else?”

“Myself.” the woman said, looking down at her plain shoes. “I was told that I have cancer and I cannot afford that right now.”

“Afford it?”

“I don’t have the time to take off work for the therapy -even if it works, which no one can say for sure either way. And my insurance won’t pay for half of the testing and medicine that I’ll need.”

“So you are quite literally working yourself to death.” Madame Zanda said, matter of factly.

“Except then a co-worker told me about you and…”

“You want to know if I can really help.”

The woman nodded, lifted her eyes from her shoes and looked at a jar next to her. Then quickly looked back down when she recognized that the contents had once been living. “What you do is humane, right?”

“I do not use humans to take your illness or to steal their life force to feed your own, if that is what you mean.”

“Good, because I could never live with myself if-”

“But, something else will have to pay the price for your illness and your health.”

“But, I-”

“Do you want to live?” Madame Zanda asked.

The woman nodded, unable to speak.

“Then perhaps it is better if you do not know how it works. Simply know this, you bring me the money that I demand and ask no questions. No humans will be ‘hurt’ to bring you relief."  Zanda wrote a figure down on a piece of parchment paper and slid it to the woman.

“But this is more than I can afford.”

“What is the price of life to you? To be whole and healthy and able to pursue your dreams in the corporate world? We can come to an agreement. I’m sure that a ‘payment plan’ will satisfy us both.”

“And what happens if I cannot pay?” the woman asked. “Can you actually repossess health and life?”

“I can do many things. So do not try my patience.”

“Okay, I’ll pay.”

“Good. Bring the first thousand tomorrow and five thousand more by the end of the month. Payment of six thousand each month and you’ll be paid off by the end of the year. Make it cash. You should feel the effects of the spell by Friday.”

The woman swallowed hard and left the shop quickly. Madame Zanda turned the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed’. She headed into the back of the store where she pulled aside the curtain to reveal a network of glass cages, each holding animals. She pulled aside a rat to take the woman’s cancer and a guinea pig to provide the extra life force and healing energy that the woman would need. The rat she would have to replace several times, since no one rat could hold all of a human’s illnesses, but monkeys were too costly and she would need a permit to keep them anyway. Small furry creatures that reproduced at a good rate kept her in clients and in business. Though sometimes they were a pain to watch over.

She remembered a time, not even two years ago she had hired her nephew to watch over and take care of the little beasts while she took a five day cruise to Mexico (both for fun and for a few magical ingredients). The dolt had botched things and Madame Zanda came home to a roomful of dead creatures -and deceased clients. She had had to change cities and names, while drumming up a whole new clientele. She still kept her nephew’s shrunken head on a shelf next to the rodent food pellets, to remind her never to trust her career to an idiot again.