San Diego Perez

October 6, 2010

Kimberley scribbled the name San Diego Perez across the page. Sexy name for a witch she thought. However, she is witch plain and simple, the oldest of a gang of dying witches. A witch who had seen four and a half centuries and had more physical power than all the other witches combined, but for Kimberley. None could touch her prowess in the art of witchcraft.

Kimberley could feel it….the power. She could do anything, crumble buildings if she wanted, but she didn’t. She liked the Donald, cash is king and better than anyone else she had a cash machine. All powered by the fact she knew banking, something others in the drug business didn’t.

And if you’re keeping score and she was, what better statistic than money.  There were people with more money, but none were making it faster. Mendo said she was making the witches nervous, the thought made her positively giddy with joy. She had become the player, leaving everyone else to fight over second.

Kimberley saw Perez as a bump in the road to be quietly dispensed with. She had never been a big fan of public displays, those who mattered would know, satisfying her need for display. She hadn’t traveled in sometime and the time had come to meet this old witch.

She sent the probes and received no answer. A case of nerves she thought. For Kimberley it didn’t matter, having a free day allowed time for all those little psychological ploys she loved so much. Guardelavaca came to mind, the witch had called.

In a flash Kimberley stood at the edge of the beach, the aquamarine water washed her ankles. The tight little bikini comfortably showed off her assets, but no Perez. Standing alone she said “Come out, come out wherever you are. “

“Cuban beaches are so nice don’t you think Kimberley” San Diego said.

Kimberley never turned to look at her. She left that to her surrogate outline watching from behind.  “Nice beach” she said.

“Do you always leave a guard out” San Diego asked.

“Mostly, I think of it as my security blanket. You know how young girls are or has it been so long you have forgotten such petulant toys” Kimberley said.

“I never forget anything” San Diego bristled.

“All the chit chat aside, Mendo stopped by for a visit and said I had caused some concern within the group. So here I am. What’s the problem San Diego?” Kimberley said.

“Why have you not come to me?” she asked.

“I’ve been busy, no time for the beach when you have a growing business to run” Kimberley said.

“Within our community there is rank and file that needs to be honored” the witch said.

Turning to her Kimberley said “San Diego lets be straight on something, I don’t do rank and file.”

The comment brought boiling water around her ankles. She looked down to see it turn to fire and said “Really?” The disgust encased San Diego and her burning water in a crystal tomb setting her hair ablaze. The witch screamed.

Kimberley shook her head and said “San Diego, we moved passed fire some time ago and the tomb disappeared. Stepping from behind the palm Kimberley’s beach image vanished as she headed for the bar.

San Diego fell fifty feet into the water off an Angolan beach. She had lost her hair, but not her life.

Kimberley thought it a generous gesture.

the witch’s malice – September 2013


David Hutchison, Writer