Funk-N-Fiction

R L Merrill is bringing us a sweet tale of “witchy” elders and rockstar family in today’s second Halloween Flash Fiction story.

Jordan Barrett and the Witch’s Refrain

*Author’s note:

Welcome to the world of Hush, a metalcore band from Oakland, California. Jordan is the last member to get his HEA, and it’s been a long-time coming. This piece is part one of his story. The entire story will be part of a special release later this year. Enjoy!

“I call the letters.” Jordan called to his little brother Jake. Their maternal grandmother, Ada Wagner, passed away, and their parents called them home to help sort out Ada’s affairs. Jordan was glad he’d made it to say goodbye to her before she passed, despite his complicated feelings about the woman, but her house was a nightmare. Ada had been a bona fide witch. Her home was filled with antiques… and darker things. Jordan realized there was a fine line between eccentricity and hoarding for women of a certain age.

“You take the easy jobs. I got stuck with the dolls!”

            Jordan chuckled. “You loved playing dolls with Grandma. She left those for you—”

            “You’re full of shit, Jordan Lawrence Barrett. I took them on because I’m versed in online sales and had the time.”

            “You make a nice profit?” 

            “I did. I bought Burke a Martin D-45 acoustic.” Jake’s husband, Burke Dickens, was a rival musician whom Jordan once tried to eviscerate after learning that he’d been the one to deflower his little brother. Jake and Burke had a strange relationship, but Jordan envied their happiness. 

            “No way. They’re practically extinct! I’ve always wanted one.”

            “Maybe I’ll let you touch it… if you take Grandpa’s stamp collection.”

            “Bet. Paul’s Navy buddy runs an antique shop across the Bay. Easy peasy lemon squeeze me ‘til the juice runs down my—”

            “Gross.”

            Jordan put Jake in a headlock, licked his finger, and stuck it in Jake’s ear. They were in their mid-thirties now. Jake was a successful entrepreneur, and Jordan was the lead guitarist for the metalcore band Hush. Some things never changed, though. No wonder their mom called them manchildren.

“Mercy,” he cried before Jake could retaliate. “Let’s do it together. Mom wants us to pull the ones from Grandpa. I guess he wrote to Grandma when he was the ambassador to Austria.”

“I bet a museum will want them.” Jake was more than capable of negotiating something important like that. He had contacts with important people and museums through his charity work. He was a damn successful guy. 

“I just hope we don’t find anything sordid in there.”

“In Grandma’s things?” Jake made a face. “Get out. She was prim and proper Betty Crocker.”

Jordan shuddered. “Remember when we were kids, and I refused to stay at her house?”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “I do. You never said why. I wanted to go. She baked cookies every day, and we didn’t have to do chores like at home.

“You know why she fed us like that?” Jordan reached for a pile of postcards. They’d been in a trunk in sealed bags, so there was little dust to deal with.

“Duh, because that’s what grandmothers do.”

Jordan snorted. “It’s what witches do when they’re fattening up little boys to eat them.”

Jake frowned at him. “All that loud music has fried your brain. What’re you talking about?”

“She used to read us those freaky books as kids. Like Hansel and Gretel, and Baba Yaga.  I used to lie there awake and stare at the ceiling, waiting for… I don’t know. I’d hear her laughing, and the floors creaking outside the bedroom door.”

“You’re ridiculous. That’s what grandmothers are supposed to read to kids.”

“Yeah? How bout these?”

Jordan’s evidence consisted of four blank postcards that were weathered and torn, the pictures stained on two of them. They were vintage illustrations of witches riding brooms in front of the moon, sitting in a tree playing guitar with a black cat and an owl, looming over a sleeping child, and the creepiest one was of two children standing next to a cauldron as the witch stirred her potion. That last one had burn marks on one side.

“Those are fantastic,” Jake said, taking them from Jordan. “I love this old-fashioned artwork. In old Europe, All Hallows’ Eve and Samhain were scary nights. They used to terrify children back then.”

“Grandma creeped me out, dude. I’d ask, ‘what’s for dinner?’ She’d tell me newt eyeballs and the kidney of a naughty child. I asked her once why Cousin Joshua wasn’t there? She said she ate him!”

Jake burst out laughing. “Cousin Joshua moved to Pennsylvania, you big weenie. I can’t believe you.”

Jordan shrugged and flipped through the witchy postcards. “I was an impressionable kid. I tried not to cause any problems. She was never mean, but I guess I thought Mom and Dad sent me away because I was bad, and then she read me those stories about what happens to bad kids…”

“Jordan.” Jake put a hand on Jordan’s knee. “What do you mean you were bad?”

“I wasn’t you. I didn’t get perfect grades or play sports. I barely graduated high school, dropped out of college, and joined a rock band. Thank god we don’t suck, or I’d be a total loser.”

Jake pulled Jordan into his arms so fast that Jordan yelped in surprise, ready for an attack, not a hug.

“You don’t really believe that shit, do you? Jesus, Jordan. You are, and have always been, my hero. You have to know that.”

Jordan pushed him away with a snort. He hated serious moments, well, with anyone other than the woman he’d been in love with for years. He fell for Roxanne Quintana, the lead singer of Just Like Love, on the last cross-country Warped Tour back in 2018. She hadn’t been in a position to date, so they became friends. Since then, whenever their paths crossed, they weren’t alone. He’d lost count of how many times one of his bandmates or his brother had interrupted him just as he was ready to suggest they go somewhere private. 

They regularly shared texts and calls when she was on tour, less often in between. He knew she appreciated him. She couldn’t tell the guys in her band they were being dicks, and she didn’t think the other women she knew in the scene understood her. She was bisexual, and she felt that caused complications in her relationships. 

Jordan wanted more than a friendship with her. He hadn’t pushed, but maybe it was time to show her that Fun Jordy could be Partner Material Jordan. 

“Yeah, well.” Jake still stared at him as if expecting a better answer. “Most of the time, I don’t think about it.”

“Jordan—”

Jordan held up his hands. “We’re not here to psychoanalyze me. Let’s do this. Here, you take the creepy ones, and I’ll start on the rest.”

Jake frowned at him but took the postcards. “We’re not done talking about this.”

Jordan looked away and thumbed through the cards. Eventually, Jake got the hint. He didn’t talk about feelings with his little brother. It was too messy. Jordan had enough messiness with his bandmates. 

Jake took his pile and went over to the kitchen table, mumbling about more space to organize, but Jordan knew Jake was upset.

Jordan hadn’t meant to make things uncomfortable, but he’d been in a mood since Grandma Ada passed. Perhaps his melancholy had to do with the realization that he was the last person in his circle to find someone special. Well, he had, but she wasn’t his.

He shifted on the couch and realized he was still holding one of the creepy postcards. He started to call Jake, but he noticed the poem scribbled on the front:

Listen to the witch

Singing her weird strain

As the cat and the owl

Join in the refrain

            He could almost hear his grandmother’s voice humming and singing nonsense words while she baked and cooked for him.

            As if he’d manifested it, his phone buzzed, startling him. He laughed at the picture that came up.

            It was Roxanne and a bunch of kids in costumes. She wore a witch hat, and her face was painted a sickly green. He chuckled as he responded.

Not sure green goes with red and black hair.

            It did though. He stared at her picture longingly as the three dots hovered.

            Her response took forever, so he sent her a picture of the postcard. 

Your new publicity photo.

            He hit send just as her response came through.

Where are you Jordy?

            He started to respond Oz, but he wasn’t feeling playful.

San Diego. Grandma passed. Going through her stuff to help my folks. Old ladies are something else, man. 

            His phone buzzed with an incoming call. He clicked accept while singing The Sonics, “She’s A Witch.”

            Roxanne did a little dance. “I love that song.”

            “Where you at, girl?”

            “I’m sorry about your grandmother.”

            The concern in her eyes meant more to him than the words. 

            “Thanks. I don’t want to be that dick, but she lived a tremendously long life. She was ninety-eight. She raised hell. She threatened to eat me as a kid.”

            “Probably why she lived so long.”

            “Who are you talking to?” Jake asked, coming to stand behind him. “Roxanne! You look amazing. How are you?”

            “Thanks, I’m so sorry, Jake. Did your grandmother threaten to eat you, too, or just Jordan?”

            Jordan loved that she didn’t make it heavy. Her eyes darted back to his as she talked to his brother. Jake often took up all the air in the room when he was around, but Roxanne always turned the conversation back to Jordan.

            “I guess I wasn’t as tasty as my big brother. I’ll let you two chat. Mwah.”

            “Mwah back.” 

Jake pointed toward the doorway. Jordan appreciated the privacy.

“Jordy Larry, I’ve been thinking about you all day. I need to see you.”

That had him sitting up straight. “Aw, Roxie Mary. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She smiled the soft way she saved only for him. They’d never done more than cuddle, flirt, and talk all those nights they’d spent together on Warped Tour, but Roxanne treated him differently than everyone else, including the people she dated. “I’ve been watching my sister and her husband throw my niece’s party, working side-by-side, navigating moody kids and moodier moms. They vibe. Like we do. And I miss you.”

Warmth rushed through his chest.

“I miss you.”

She cocked her head. “I can be there in three hours, unless I’d be interfering with family time.”

“You wouldn’t. We’re on the last box, hence the creepy postcard.”

“I love it, especially the poem. Makes me think about dancing naked under a full moon, singing at the top of our lungs, and then…”

“And then?” His heart fluttered at the wicked gleam in her eye.

“You know, witches supposedly had wild sex orgies after dancing naked under the moon. Could be fun.”

Jordan frowned. “How many of these witches are there? Because I think I could only manage like two, maybe three—”

“Despite the fact we are rock stars, I have no desire to bed more than one person, thank you very much.”

Jordan laughed. “I’ve missed you, Rox. I was going to call you—”

“I know. My witchy senses were tingling.” She blinked a couple of times. “If I’m not intruding, I’d like to drive to you. I have things to say.”

Jordan wasn’t sure he could take those things in his current state of mind. When he hesitated, her eyes flared.

“Things meaning I’m in a good place. I’m ready for things I haven’t been ready for in the past. I don’t want to not be next to you anymore.”

Jordan looked at the pile. He could meet her in the middle, or maybe he could invite her in. Was she ready for the Barrett family? 

“I’ve been ready since Warped.”

She sighed. “I know. You’re my best friend, Jordan. I want you in my space.”

Was this finally it? “How’re your organizational skills?”

“Phenomenal.”

His breath hitched. Jordan loved Roxanne. He was ready to take their bond to a deeper level. He’d also be down for the naked dancing, singing under the moonlight, and whatever came after…

“See you in three hours.”

Stay Tuned for More…

CONTEST: While you’re waiting for the rest of THAT story… R L is offering an ebook of Summer of Hush and a $10 Amazon GC, as well as a Hush sticker pack, to one of our awesome readers!!
To enter: Let us know if YOU hoard *ahem* collect anything! Stamps? Postcards? Dolls?
** Entry for this contest will ALSO count as your entry for the overall HFF event contest. **signed paperback