A Heck of a Hex

Chapter 4

“Who?” Bob asked.

“Nobody,” Dalia muttered. There was a part of her that wanted to believe this was all a dream. Perhaps Lucille had planned this elaborate joke on her. Dalia waited for a sign of Lucille. She figured any minute now Lucille would swagger into the kitchen. Chuckling:

“Gotcha,” Lucille would say. But instead, Flo entered the kitchen wearing a black pantsuit.

“Mom?” asked Dalia. Flo looked so strange to her daughter today. Flo’s usually longer and red hair had been cut short and dyed black.

“Of course it’s me,” Flo answered. Who else would I be?” “I see your father is trying to burn the house down again,” She kissed her husband’s cheek and poured herself some coffee.

“Are you excited for another day of teaching Drama Professor?” Bob asked his wife.

“I’ll be ready to collapse after coming home,” Flo admitted.

“You’re living your dream, Babe. You’re teaching Drama at Green University.”

“I’m a lucky woman,” Flo said, her voice sounding insincere.

“Surprised you’re not wearing your basketball jersey,” Bob said to Dalia.

“What do you mean?” Dalia asked. Bob looked at his daughter with a hint of playfulness.

“Every game day you get to wear your jersey to school.”

“Oh yeah,” remembered Dalia. “I just didn’t feel like wearing it to school,” said Dalia.

“You feeling sick?” Bob asked. “You usually can’t wait to wear your jersey to school.”

“I feel fine Dad,” Dalia said. “Really.”

“Beep, beep.” A horn sounded outside.

“Better hurry up,” Rachel instructed gripping her coffee mug with both hands.

“Rachel is here to take you to school.”

Since when does Rachel drive me to school?” Dalia asked. Flo and bob glanced at each other. Their expressions conveyed their confusion in full vigor.

“Are sure you are feeling okay?” Bob questioned sounding concerned.

Flo felt her daughter’s forehead.

“She’s not running a fever.”

“I’m fine Mom and dad. Honest,” replied Dalia gently swatting her hand away. “I gotta go.” She hurried away. Outside Rachel greeted her. Dalia got in the passenger seat of Rachel’s car. The music played and the car took off.

“You amped for the game tonight?” Rachel asked.

“The Conference Championship?” Dalia asked.

“What other game would there be?” Rachel asked. Dalia shrugged.

“The whole school is really counting on us,” Rachel said. “I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything else all week!”

“Just relax,” Dalia said. “It’s only a game.” Rachel slammed on the breaks and her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She spoke out of the side of her mouth.

“Basketball is life,” Rachel said. We’ll never win with an attitude like that!” Dalia felt butterflies in her stomach. Suddenly a great rush of anxiety and resentment filled Dalia’s body.

“This girl needs a punch in the nose! If Lucille was here…” thought Dalia.

Then the realization washed over Dalia like a tidal wave of blood. She felt suffocated by an enormous wave of guilt. Dalia found it increasingly difficult to breathe and her hands trembled. She had not known heartache like this before. Well, not since Mom had to put Bosco the family Beagle to sleep. That was awful, but this pain was worse! She felt a numbness that was followed by a sharp twinge of anger. Then she remembered yelling at Lucille. Those words:

“We’re no longer sisters,” floated through Dalia’s mind.

“I’m sorry Lucille,” Dalia blurted out. “We are sisters!” Rachel looked over.

“What are you talking about?”

“Uh, haven’t you heard that Sister Sledge song? We Are Family?” asked Dalia.

“Just get your head right before the game,” Rachel pleaded. Dalia let out a sigh and muttered.

“Okay.”

Banners hung all over the school. People would say things like:

“Beat those Billy Goats,” or “go Ravens,” Dalia remembered going through that the first time. There was genuine excitement. Back then she had a right to be excited. Now, her life was simple. She was just a fifteen-year-old girl with a twin sister named Lucille. She was obsessed with basketball, competition, and her social status.

Her life was different now. Lucille did not exist. She had no one to have orange juice drinking contests with…She was the basketball player again. “The game is on the line,” she thought.

“Let’s count on her.” Dalia wondered if it wasn’t for basketball would anyone care about her?

“Is that all my friends see in me?” Dalia thought.

 “Why does it matter what other people think of me?” She went to her coach’s office. Dalia found Coach Molly reading a book entitled The Joy of Winning.

“Coach Molly,” Dalia began. Coach Molly glanced up from her book.

“Superstar. What’s up?”

“I was hoping we could have a little chat,” Dalia admitted.

“Fire away,” Coach Molly insisted. Dalia sat down across from her coach. The coach placed a bookmark into the book she had been reading and set it down on the desk.

“I want to quit the team,” Dalia said abruptly.

“Why would you want to do that?’ Coach Molly asked.

“Well,” Dalia hesitated.

“I’m going through some personal stuff and I need some time to sort things out?”

“Are you feeling sick?” Coach Molly asked.

“No,” answered Dalia.

“Has there been a death in the family?” Coach Molly asked raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” Dalia answered.

Coach Molly leaned back in her chair, placing her hands behind her head.

“Are you aware that this school has never made the playoffs in basketball, male or female?”

“Yes,” Dalia said.

“I have been coaching at this school for twelve years,” Coach Molly began. “You and Rachel are the greatest basketball players in the history of this school and I am not about to let this season go down in flames!” Her stare became wolf-like, hungry, cold, and predatory.

“I get a raise if we make the playoffs. After the season do what you want, but right now I need you in the Conference Championship. Is that understood?”

“Understood,” replied Dalia through gritted teeth. Angrily she stormed off. Dalia sat alone at lunch and she was in a bad mood. Now Rachel was one thing but Coach Molly was something else. She was usually even-tempered, friendly, and a bit of a pal.

She could finally relate to her sports mentality. When he was a football player in high school and college he talked about hating the other team. He did not want to just defeat them; he wanted to humble, embarrass, and crush the other team.

Flo stayed home to grade papers. The tip-off was at 7:30. The blonde Billy Goat dribbled down the court. Dalia elbowed her and the other girl fell to the ground. People booed and hissed. She held her eye while the trainer hustled over to the fallen girl. The player got up trying to shake off the hit. Play resumed after the blonde girl took a seat on the bench. One of Dalia’s teammates found herself in a battle over the ball with an opposing player. Dalia shoved the other girl into the wall. Of course, the whistle blew.

“Foul,” declared the referee pointing to Dalia.

“Oh come on,” Dalia shot back.

“Becker,” Coach Molly yelled. “Grab some pine and cool off!” Dalia sat down on the bench. She started counting to ten under her breath.

“Calm down,” Dalia thought. Be aggressive, not crazy.” When she went back into the game she was a defensive machine, blocking shots, rebounding, stealing the ball, and feeding it to Rachel.

“They wound up winning the game 42-40.

The visiting crowd exploded with applause. After the game, a shower, and getting dressed, Dalia met her dad outside in the hallway. He tried stifling a chuckle.

“Hey Killer,” Bob joked. “You were a little rough out there early on.”

“Yeah,” Dalia replied. “I guess I was kind of in a bad mood.”

“I could tell,” Bob said.

“The guy next to me kept running his mouth. I thought I’d have to hit him.”

I’m starving,” Dalia said rubbing her belly.

“Why don’t we stop by Allen’s and get a pizza?” Bob suggested.

“You mean to take home?” Dalia asked.

“I was hoping to eat inside,” Bob said.

“Unless you weren’t keen on being seen eating in a public establishment with your father.”

“I have no problem with it,” Dalia answered. They headed out into the muggy night. The car was visible from Dalia’s current vantage point.

“You sure we're playing with a purpose out there,” Bob said. “You definitely were a woman on a mission on that court. Seemed like you were having fun.” Dalia knew her day was a lot of things: freaky, rage-inducing, annoying, but fun was not one of them.

“I remember I tried out for basketball once in seventh grade,” Bob confessed.

“You never told me that,” Dalia said.

“Oh yeah,” Bob answered. “I didn’t make the team of course, but I had a lot of fun.”

“I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but watching you play tonight brought those memories flooding back.” They entered the car. Bob blasted the country music. The headlights came on. Bob sang along with the radio. Dalia would usually groan to hear this “redneck music.”

 Her dad seemed genuinely happy. She eased back in her seat. Dalia had a good dad. She thought of her grandpa, Bob’s dad. Bob had been a loner as a kid. He rarely felt comfortable around kids his age. They were strange creatures that held odd beliefs. A young Bob’s mind would often be blown by observing how other fathers would interact with their children. There would be no judgment on the other kid’s friends, potential love interests, or taste in music, film, or television.

Grandpa was quick to judgment whenever it came to Bob. Grandpa was just plain stubborn. If you critiqued his politics, he would jump down your throat.

“I remember in fourth grade wishing he was dead,” Bob once admitted. The car pulled into the parking lot. Bob was able to find a spot right next to the building. They got out of the car and headed inside. The place felt box-like in the interior. There were a few booths and a cooler with bottled soft drinks.

“What can I get ya?” the girl behind the counter asked. They shared a large pizza and each of them ordered a medium root beer. They sat down at a nearby table and started eating.

“What would you do if you had to accept a brand new reality?” Dalia asked. Bob looked at his daughter like she was insane.

“What are you talking about?”

“Let’s say you had to deal with someone not being in your life when they used to be all the time,” Dalia asked.

“My advice would be to remember all the good times you had with that person,” Bob said.

The next day was Saturday; Dalia heard a knock on the front door. She stretched, wiped her eyes, and headed downstairs in her pajamas. She answered the door and saw Alex standing before her.

“What do you want?” Dalia asked.

“Care to take a walk with me down to the park?” Alex said.

“Do I have a choice?” Dalia asked.

“Not really,” said Alex. So they headed to the park and sat down on a bench.

“I see you are not enjoying my little game so far,” Alex observed.

“That’s an understatement,” Dalia asserted.

“Well you can relax,” replied Alex. “When you wake up tomorrow you will be back in your own reality and you will have a sister again.”

“Really?” Dalia asked. “You are not yanking my chain?”

“Nope,” Alex answered. “I started this game because I was unsuccessful at hexing you.”

“You tried hexing me?” Dalia asked. “Are you crazy?”

“You had signed a fake name to my autograph; I was mad at you,” Alex confessed.

“That’s a little extreme. Don’t you think?” Dalia stated.

“Maybe a little,” Alex shrugged. “I need your help,”

“Why would I help you? You’re a creep!” Dalia declared.

“I’ll put a hex on you,” Alex threatened. Dalia chuckled.

“You said you already tried hexing me and couldn’t.”

“I prayed that the goddess Palomo would hex you,” Alex confessed. “My magic is not as powerful as hers. But I am strong enough to place a very bad hex upon your head.”

“I’m not helping you out creep,” Dalia insisted. Next, she felt herself being lifted off the ground. Then her eyes widened and she felt her stomach drop. She rose higher and higher like a balloon with just the right amount of helium. She found herself above the trees.

“Quite a long fall from that height,” Alex yelled up. “Isn’t it? Either help me out or you’ll resemble scrambled eggs with too much ketchup poured on top.”

“I’ll help you,” Dalia screamed. “Just let me down!”

“As you wish,” Alex hollered up snapping his fingers.

She began plummeting toward the Earth. She screamed while thrashing her arms and legs wildly. Right before her impending impact, Alex let her ease down gently. Once she was safely on the ground, Alex burst out laughing.