To Ling Chin: Thanks For Nothing! Naomi Claussen by ARthur

Chapter 3
Chapter 3

Ling looked down and began to pick at her clothing. "How come I’m wearing a nightshirt?" she asked. "You aren’t! It’s your T-shirt," Naomi noted, lifting the bottom hem to waist height. "And no undies. Hmmm! Very sloppy work. The witch must have been rushed. They’re usually good on clothes morphs," she added, while observing a trail of Ling’s other adult clothing along the path to the table.

"Eeeek! But I thought…" Ling screamed as she pushed the shirt back to knee level. "I never said the CIA was behind our mission. If they were, we wouldn’t be stuck as 8-year-olds. We’re with AAAARG, and we’re fighting the Hedweigian witches, who regress people – mostly women – for fun, but mostly to eliminate us as viable threats," Naomi said as she took Ling’s hand to walk her from her apartment.

In the AAAARG van, the now 8-year-old Ling provided details of her experience, of how when she turned around, there was this large blonde woman, wearing an orange shirt with some name that was obscured by her humongous chest and the lower angle from which it was observed. The woman also wore navy blue shorts, orange and white knee socks, and white athletic shoes. "Just like the woman I saw at that warehouse," Naomi explained. And Ling added that the woman also carried two sports bottles, in which she could see green globules bouncing inside. "Age vapors," Ruby noted.

Ling further noted that she did some checking to make sure that the person she thought had the humidor still owned it. "I phoned her before I called you," Ling proudly stated. "And tipped her off, giving her a chance to quiet you with an ‘age-capture’ spell," Zephyr said, slapping her minuscule forehead.

Running a tap on Ling’s phone line, Naomi found one call that Ling made before dialing AAAARG. The number checked out as belonging to Amanda Hook, a lawyer who also ran a Wall Street business acquisitions firm, J. Roger & Associates. The business address was provided. But a photo of Hook indicated that she was brunette, and didn’t resemble the witch Ling or Naomi saw. But Naomi was nonetheless heartened. The other woman she saw at the warehouse (from behind) was dark haired.

"But she could lead us to the witch, Ling’s sports bottles, and maybe even Naomi’s humidor. We’ll visit Amanda’s business the first thing in the morning," Zephyr decided.

In the interim, Ruby escorted Ling to rear of the van to select a new wardrobe for the newly created 8-year-old. "Can’t fight witches in only a red T-shirt. If you were younger, you could wear this Blue’s Clues jumper. Being with the CIA, you do like clues," Ruby suggested. "Not funny," Ling replied. After grousing that nothing present would flatter her (now flat) figure, she selected a green dress with yellow trim. "Perfect for battling witches. Where’s the garlic and crosses?" she asked as Ruby’s eyes pleaded to the heavens.

"Excuse me, but these aren’t Hollywood witches," Ruby tried to explain. "Garlic and crosses have no effect on them. I’ve even seen them eat in Italian restaurants." But Ling sneered. "Then get me a 10-gallon bucket and point me to the nearest fountain," she swaggered with youthful enthusiasm.

The next morning, the four AAAARG girls girded for action, putting on their battle pouches – side-strap purses holding large mirrors to deflect light-spectrum-hugging Hedweigian spells. All except Naomi, who instead pocketed a small electronic gizmo that she had developed during the previous weeks.

"If my design is correct, this gizmo will create a magnetic force field of the right frequency to warp the path of Hedweigian light-riding spells. The person standing inside the field will be protected from things like the ‘age-capture’ spell, which will glide past on the edge of the field," Naomi said with pride.

"Have you tested it yet?" Ruby inquired. "Maybe today," Naomi said sheepishly, knowing that the only way to discover the device’s worth was in actual battle with Hedweigian witches.

Ling bounced forward. "I’ve got the perfect plan," she explained. "We get some of those paint ball guns. We burst into the witch’s den and zap everyone in the face, and…" Zephyr cut her short. "Sit on her," she instructed, as the AAAARG van pulled before a tall building in New York’s financial district.

Zephyr then issued her plan. Since this would be primarily a fact-finding incursion, only she and Ruby would visit Amanda Hook’s office. This would allow Naomi to remain in the van to scan the Internet for clues that could be discerned from the jogging suit (like where it was purchased) worn by the blonde witch. And Ryoko would restrain the "enthusiasm" of Ling by any means necessary.

Up in the executive offices of J. Roger & Associates, Amanda Hook was ecstatic on receiving her morning e-mail briefing. "Small problem made smaller," one message read. "Wonderful," Amanda said.

Swiveling around her chair, she reached into a compact refrigerator, grabbed a package of bacon, pulled off a slice, and deposited it into a cage. A strange animal about the size of a guinea pig covered with sleek black fur and sporting two bird-like feet with large talons ravenously devoured the bacon.

Amanda’s financial officer James Smee cringed as always on seeing the beast in action. "I wish you’d get rid of that thing. It gives me the creeps," said Smee, a pudgy man in shirtsleeves and suspenders.

"My dear Smee, you fail to realize that this animal is the foundation of my fortune and the reason I can afford to pay your salary," Amanda said as she lapsed into nostalgia.

"Ah, yes! I remember like it was yesterday. Having been dismissed from the Peace Corps for engaging in black market activities, I took a trip through the mountains of Rwanda and discovered the schurk," Amanda recalled. "This magnificent animal has fur that can be woven into a cloth twice as soft as cashmere, and it breeds at a rate that even rabbits envy. After importing this animal to the U.S., I made a fortune selling the baby animals to mink ranchers looking for a faster turnaround on their investment. I still keep one in this cage to remind me of my roots."

"But raising schurks wasn’t a good deal for the people who bought them," Smee reminded Amanda. "While very docile when young, they grow up to be nasty, very vicious beasts in only a year. People trying the shave off the fur suffered wounds from the animal’s talons and razor-sharp teeth. The government banned their further import. You were sued…"

"But I beat the rap in court," Amanda replied with a hard look at Smee. "I convinced the judge that mink are no picnic either. And besides, the schurks only reflected the way the people raised them. Had they not spent their lives squeezed into tiny cages, they may not have grown up to be nasty…"

"But what about that county in Texas where the population decreased by 10 percent before they called in the National Guard?" Smee asked.

"You don’t believe everything you read in the papers, do you?" Amanda replied, just as her intercom sounded, announcing that two cute little girls were there to see her. Amanda ushered them in immediately, and began to give them her order for Girl Scout cookies for the upcoming year.

"That’s not why we’re here," Zephyr said. "We’re here to claim items that belong to others. I am told that you have a Faberge cigar humidor that was taken more than a year ago from one Naomi Claussen."

Amanda struck a knowing look on her face. Yet the words from her lips were, "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I know nothing about a Faberge humidor." And as Smee seemed to want to add something, Amanda quieted him with a wave of her finely manicured, crimson-nailed index finger.

As Amanda told the girls they could look but not find such an item in her office, Zephyr walked up to the cage containing the schurk and stared directly into its red cat-like eyes. Poking her finger into the cage, she tapped the mini-monster on its nose. Unnerved by Zephyr’s gall, it cringed toward the back of its cage.

Ruby picked up a picture on Amanda’s desk of a young girl. "Your daughter?" she asked. "Why yes. That’s my dear daughter Darva," Amanda explained. "She looks the same age as our client. In fact, all our clients are around that age. Why just last night, another client had something of hers carted away in clear plastic sports bottles. You wouldn’t know about them?" Ruby asked a visibly sweating Amanda.

Turning toward Amanda, Zephyr sternly noted, "We’re also looking for a blonde woman called Teresa, who seems to favor orange and blue jogging suits. She’s been seen with you, or in known contact with you on several occasions. We need to find her."

Again striking a knowing look, Amanda again denied everything. And she again waved Smee’s silence.

"I wouldn’t protect Teresa if I were you," Ruby admonished Amanda. "We know she is a witch, and is responsible for casting spells that turned our two clients from grown women into little girls. Both were trained agents of the CIA. If she can do that to women of that caliber, imagine what she could do to you if you ever have a falling out."

"I’ve heard enough of your childish nonsense," Amanda groused. She pushed the intercom and ordered her secretary to call the truant officers, and to send people in her office to restrain the girls until they arrived.

Angered by this turn of events, Zephyr stepped aside and opened the door to the schurk’s cage. It bound out, headed directly toward Amanda. But to her surprise, it landed in Amanda’s arms and began to purr.

"You may wonder why the schurk isn’t trying to chew me up," Amanda grinned. "Professional courtesy!"

Spotting Smee shivering behind his desk, the schurk leapt in his direction. Smee fled around the office with the miniature monster snapping at his ample bottom. In the ensuing chaos, the three girls escaped.

Returning to the van, they were greeted by Naomi, who had good news.

"I checked every file on the Internet to find out where Teresa got her jogging clothes. But they weren’t jogging clothes. She was wearing the waitress uniform of a new restaurant chain – called Juggz," Naomi said. "There are three outlets in the New York area. One may employ Teresa, and house the sports bottles containing Ling’s age vapors – and maybe the humidor containing mine."