Rachael left the office building and headed down the street to the bistro where she met up with a bunch of friends from other offices.   The bistro had a great soup and salad combo that most of them had every day.  It was kind of an informal support group.  Each of them was trying to lose a few pounds before summer arrived.  Crystal, the group’s cheerleader of sorts, had already hit her goal and was only mildly annoying with the humble-brag she brought to the table every day.  Most of them were doing better than Rachael.  She had plateaued about 6 lbs over her target and was depressed by that.

But weight was the least of Rachael’s worries at this point.  Peter was an executive in an insurance firm.  He had always worked long hours, but he had been full of energy and very attentive at the beginning of their marriage.  Over time, however, he had slowly become withdrawn and now spent nearly every night working late.  On top of that, Peter snored like crazy.  He wouldn’t get tested for apnea and wouldn’t consider any treatment or equipment to alleviate the snoring.  So, Rachael had moved into one of the spare bedrooms just to get some sleep at night.  That was pretty much when their sex life ended as well.

An unexpected downpour caught Rachael off-guard halfway back to the office.  She took cover under the awning of a shop she walked past every day, but never paid any attention to.  The front window had elaborately painted lettering that was starting to wear badly:

 

 

She stepped over to the door, hesitated for a moment, and then walked in.  The shop was quite small.   Shelves lined every wall, and each shelf was jammed full of bottles, jars, and tin boxes.  There was a counter at the back of the store.  Behind the counter was an elderly man – tall with a slender build.   Still, he was quite striking in a vaguely European outfit that looked like it came from the silent film era.  The focal point was the blood red cravat around his neck.  He spoke, “May I help you Madame?”

“I’m sorry.  I just stepped in to get out of the rain.”

“Very well, Madame.  Please feel free to look around.  Let me know if you have any questions.”

She walked slowly around the room, trying to look like she was reading labels.  Finally, she said, “I’m sorry, I have to ask about your clothing.   It seems out of place in this neighborhood.”

“Ah.” He said.  “Nothing to apologize for.  Many of my clients are senior citizens looking for some of the more obscure items on the shelves.  They seem to prefer a more ‘old-school’ appearance.  So, this is just part of the marketing so to speak.  On weekends, I wear khakis and polo shirts just like regular people.”  He smiled wanly.

“Obscure items?” she asked.

“Those would mostly be the folk remedies.  Blends of this and that from the old country purported to cure one thing or relieve another.”

“Do they work?”

“That’s an interesting question.  Many things clearly work.  Willow bark provides a precursor the body converts to aspirin.  Other things, may or may not have any actual pharmacological effects.  But, since people take them over and over again, they must provide some benefit even if it is just as a placebo.  Most of the remedies that I stock have been in use for upwards of centuries in one culture or another in the old world.  And there are people that still want them.  So, I provide them.”

She pondered for a bit and sheepishly asked, “So, the love potions, do they work?”.

“Ah yes, another interesting question.  First, there are no magic potions like in the fairy tales.  No one falls madly in love with a single sip from a flask.  There is no yellow brick road to happily ever after.  But there are certainly compounds that bring about some of ‘the symptoms’ of love – attraction, desire, arousal, and so forth.   We now recognize some of these compounds as aphrodisiacs for instance.   Perfumes can contain pheromones that attract the attention of the other sex.   These are just a few examples.”

She hesitated, then asked “So then, they actually do work?”

“My dear lady, are you just curious?  Or are you in need of assistance?”

She blushed.  “I wasn’t thinking of anything like that when I came in.  I just noticed it on the window, and it seemed odd.”  After a pause, “But my husband and I are going through a dry spell.  So, I guess that I am a little interested.”

“Very well Madame.  I would suggest you start with the basics.   I have here a simple aphrodisiac – safe to use, moderately priced.  It’s a combination of some red ginseng, the leaves of a few weeds, some tree bark, a few other odds and ends.  It’s my own special blend.  And this is a very nice, musk-based perfume.  I have both of these in sample sizes.  Free of charge.  If you like them you can come back for more.”

He put the samples into a dainty little shopping bag and held it out for her to take.  After a moment, she took the bag from his hand.

“You’ll want to sprinkle the aphrodisiac onto some food, supper would the opportune time.  Put a dab of the perfume on just before you eat.  Have a nice glass of wine.  Things should progress nicely from there.”

She thanked him, and then headed out of the shop.

 

 

Rachael made plans to fix dinner at home on Friday and confirmed with Peter that he would not be working late that night.  She started Beef Burgundy on Thursday night, then warmed it Friday and served it with buttered noodles and some stir-fried veggies.   He didn’t appear to notice any off flavors from the aphrodisiac.  Of course, he was halfway through a bottle of red wine by time they ate.   He talked about work throughout the meal and said he needed to review some reports afterwards.  He thanked her for the lovely dinner and left her sitting alone in the dining room.

Well, she thought, that didn’t work out exactly the way she was expecting.  It was too bad she had gotten her hopes up.  At least, the stuff from the shop didn’t cost her anything.   She cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher.  Leafing through the stack of home and garden magazines that had collected on the counter didn’t improve her mood in anyway.  She went to be early feeling even more sorry for herself than before.

About an hour later, he came to her bedroom.  The sex was quick and perfunctory.  Hardly satisfying, but still it happened.  First steps and all that.

 

 

 

She waited until Wednesday before heading back to the tea shop.  The shopkeeper greeted her as she stepped through the door, “Good day, Madame.  I trust you had satisfactory results last week.”

“Well, sort of.  But it wasn’t quite what I was hoping for.  It wasn’t particularly romantic.”

“Ah, yes.  Romance.  Desire is such a complicated thing.  It goes far beyond just physical attraction doesn’t it.  Well, desire is a two-way street.  This is why a single love potion is not possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“You must work on yourself as well, my dear lady.  Being ‘needy’, for example, generally produces the opposite of desire in the other party.  You must be confident and self-assured.  You must create ‘need’ in the other person.”

“Is that possible?” she asked.  “Do you have anything that will do that?”

“Of course, Madame.  I have a remedy for everything in this shop.”

He walked over to one of the shelves and pulled down a large bottle sealed with a glass stopper.  A hazy, white liquid filled the bottled.  He moved back to the counter, reached underneath, and pulled out a tray filled with small dropper bottles and a collection of small pipettes.  He used one of the pipettes to transfer a bit of the liquid to the dropper bottle.

“Will Madame be needing the other items as well?”

“Yes, please.”

He spoke as he packaged up samples of the perfume and aphrodisiac, “You will want to take one drop of the new product each day.  Just put a single drop in a small glass of water or a cup of tea. You should notice positive results by this weekend.” He put the dropper bottle and the two other samples into another little shopping bag.

“What do I owe you?”

“Oh, nothing at this time, my dear lady.  These are just samples.  Come back next week, and we can get you setup with a long-term supply.  And good luck Madame.”

 

 

 

She put a drop from the bottle into her iced tea when she got back to her desk that afternoon.  She repeated this again each day after lunch on Thursday and Friday.   By Friday afternoon, she noticed that people she rarely ever spoke to found a reason to stop by her desk and chat with her.   It reached the point where it was interfering with her work.  Her boss stopped by near the end of the day, and she figured he was going to chew her out.  But instead, he pulled up a chair and said he just wanted to see how she was doing.  He didn’t actually say much; he mostly stared at her for the five minutes he was there.

Peter texted just before closing time:  crises at work – working very late – don’t wait up.

Rachael was getting ready to leave for the day when several other women from the office stopped by her desk.  They were heading out to happy hour and wanted to know if she wanted to join them. She barely knew these women, and yet they all seemed eager for her to join them.   ‘Why not?’ she thought.  Peter wasn’t going to be home for hours, and she had nothing better to do.

It was a strange experience at the bar.  She noticed people noticing her.  Drinks would show up at her table, and the waitress would point out one guy or another who smiled at her and raised a glass.  By the end of happy hour, she was feeling quite tipsy.  A handful of guys offered to give her a ride home, but she grabbed a ride with Uber instead.

The fridge offered up a few leftovers, and she ate a light meal.  She spent the rest of the evening wandering around the house.  Everything was in its proper place, and yet nothing seemed quite right.  Instead of worrying her, this somehow made everything more interesting.  Darkness eventually fell, so she headed to her bedroom and locked the door for the first time ever.  She slept great that night and then spent the rest of the weekend avoiding Peter for reasons she couldn’t articulate.

 

 

 

Monday morning Rachael left work early for lunch and went straight to the tea shop.  As soon as she stepped through the door, she pulled the dropper bottle from her purse and said “I need more of this.”

“Very well, Madame.  I take it that the weekend went well for you.”

“It didn’t go the direction I expected it to.  But I very much want to keep going down this path.”

“Excellent choice, Madame.” He replied.

He went and grabbed the bottle from the shelf.  This time he got a much larger dropper bottle and a large pipette from a different tray under the counter.  “This will last you 30 to 40 days.  Will that be sufficient for you?”

“Yes, it will.  That would be good.”

He used the pipette to transfer the hazy liquid from the large bottle to the dropper bottle.  When he was done, he laid the pipette on the counter and put the dropper bottle into a small shopping bag.  “That will be $35, my lady.”

She paid him in cash.  When he closed the drawer on the register, the large pipette rolled off the counter and shattered on the floor.  He muttered to himself as he was bending over “I really must be more careful with these things.”   He started picking up some of the larger pieces with his hands.  Suddenly, he pulled one hand back and exclaimed “Oh my.  Now I have really done it”.  He stood up and blood was dripping slowly from one of his fingers.  “I am really quite inept today.  And, I had forgotten just how much a simple glass cut can sting.”   He turned to face her directly with the finger held up in clear sight.  In a low voice, he said, “Perhaps, you could kiss it and make it better?”

She immediately recoiled, but his eyes caught hers, and she was captivated.  Seconds ticked by as a feeling of fascination and compulsion set in – from where, she didn’t understand.  Without realizing it, she stepped forward, and then her gaze dropped to the finger.  Blood continued to drip from the cut onto the floor.  She leaned forward and then faltered.  After a moment, she continued forward, put her lips onto the cut finger, and tasted his blood.

 

 

You don’t have to live a life of sin

You don’t have to break the law

And break the law again

You can make just one mistake

And it can take you to your grave, honey

One bad move can turn your world upside down

It’s such a shame ’cause you’ve been so good up to now

 

 

Rachael woke the next morning feeling invigorated, but also a bit confused.  The bathroom mirror lied to her and told her all the faint lines around her eyes and lips were gone.  The scale was just as confused.  It said she was back to her college weight. The clothes in her closet didn’t fit right.  They were too loose everywhere except at her bust where they were too tight.  She dug deep into a corner of the closet and found a very old sun dress that she hadn’t worn in years.  It fit perfectly.  A matching pair of stilettos were hiding at the far corner of the closet.

The week went by in a flash.  The wolf-whistles on street were annoying as Hell back in the day, but now they brought pleasant memories.   Three guys and one gal hit on her at work.   Her boss found a reason to drop by every day to chat all the while trying not to be obvious about staring.  Peter came home on time every day that week.  He followed her around the house constantly.  But she kept putting him off, and she locked the bedroom door every night.

Over the weekend she started to feel like she was dragging.  Monday morning, faint lines began to show her face and her breasts began the subtle journey south.

She was standing at the door of the tea shop when he opened that morning.  She followed him into the shop as soon as the door was unlocked.

“Can I help you my lady?”

“Yes, I need more.”

“Madame, you are not supposed to use more than one drop each day.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”  She pointed to his finger. “I need more.”

“Ah.  Of course, you do.  Well then, let’s take care of that.”

He set a delicate tea cup on the counter and then walked to the far side of the shop.  He came back with a different bottle.  “This elixir will help temper and sustain the effect.  You’ll find the experience more satisfying that way.”  He filled the teacup halfway.  He used an exacto knike to make a small cut in the tip of his index finger and counted out 10 drops of blood.

“There you are my lady.  Drink up”

She stared at the cup simultaneously feeling repulsion and desire.   Her hand was shaking badly as she picked up the cup.  So, she needed the second hand to steady the cup.  Her eyes closed as she brought the cup to her lips.

 

Yes I saw the light fall from your eyes

Yes I saw how easy it was

The light it never lies

 

And as the darkness touched your lips

They tried to warn your fingertips, honey

One bad move can turn your world upside down

It’s such a shame ’cause you’ve been so good up to now

 

 

This time, the effects were immediate.  She could feel her body being invigorated before she put the teacup back on the counter.  He spoke.  “No charge, my lady.  Please enjoy your day.”

She smiled, then turned and exited the shop.  Halfway back to the office, the sun became dazzling in her eyes.  There was a pair of sunglasses at the bottom of her purse, and she fished them out.  They were barely enough to keep the sun to a comfortable level.   By the time she was back to the office, she became hyper aware of every person nearby.  She could read people in a way that she couldn’t before.  It was clear which men, and which women, were attracted to her.   Most of the people were clearly intimidated by her new demeanor.  Midafternoon, she made her pick and pulled a young guy into an empty conference room and locked the door.

The happy hour crowd was much thinner on Monday night.  That didn’t stop her from getting free drinks and leaving a trail of disappointed men in her wake.  Uber got her home, and Peter was waiting for her when she there.

“Where have you been?”

“Just having a drink with some of the girls from work.  I wasn’t expecting you home this early.”

“I sent you a bunch of text messages.  Didn’t you see them?”

“Actually, I’ve been having problems with my phone.  I need to take to the store and get it fixed or replaced.”

“Can we talk for a bit?”

“I’m sorry Peter, I’m just exhausted tonight.  I’m heading to bed.  We can chat tomorrow.”

 

When he looks at you what will he see

You can hide from him, baby

But you can’t hide from me

 

The next morning, Rachael called into work and said she’d be late.  Uber took her downtown, and she found a bank not far from work.  She opened a new checking account with a small cash deposit.   It was a quick walk from the new bank to her office.  She ignored all the email in her queue and the voice mail on her phone.

Peter had never given her online access to their joint accounts, but he was a creature of habit and she knew his family history.  So, it was easy to guess his passwords and the answers to the security questions.  Once she was in, she transferred the balances from their joint checking and savings accounts to her new checking account.   It would be trivial for Peter to track the money, but she didn’t care.

Next, she found a listing for cheap furnished apartment over a shoe shop just down the street from the tea shop.  One quick call lead to an appointment to look at the apartment right before lunch. The boss stopped by and asked if she has seen his email because he needed something done ASAP.  She replied that she hadn’t and then informed him that she was breaking early for lunch.   He was just about to say something, when she gave him a look that shut him up.   He stood there silently for several minutes after she left her desk.  She looked at the apartment and took possession on the spot.

 

You know right from right

And wrong from wrong

You know you can try to stop

But you can’t stop for long

 

Peter had given her a credit card to use in emergencies.  She maxed the card out buying new clothes and shoes.  She gave the store the address of the apartment and arranged for delivery of her purchases the next day.  From there she walked back to the tea shop.  The shopkeeper greeted her as she entered.

“And how are we doing this fine day, Madame?”

“I want more.” She stated bluntly.

He smiled briefly and said “As you wish.”  He then poured another cup of elixir, cut his finger, and counted out more blood drops.  There was no hesitation this time when she drank from the cup.  Then she turned and headed out.

“See you soon dear.” He said softly as the door closed.

It was too early for happy hour, but she stopped at the bar anyway.  A handful of business men were scattered around at different tables.   She walked up to one guy that was by himself, sat at his table, and told him to buy her a drink.  He was startled at first, but quickly recovered and asked what she wanted.  He then went up to the bar and brought her back a drink.

The business man tried to make small talk, but Rachael sat there saying almost nothing.   Finally, she said “Follow me”, and then lead him out the back door to the alley.  They said nothing when they reached the alley.  She just lifted up her skirt.  Then he grabbed her by her thighs, lifted her up, and pushed her back up against the wall.  The sex was fast and furious.  Rachael leaned down to kiss him.  She bit his lip and tasted his blood just as she climaxed.

 

 

And you just don’t seem to be yourself

So you do it like your someone else, honey

One bad move can turn your world upside down

It’s such a shame ’cause you’ve been so good up to now

 

 

 

Again, Peter was waiting for her when she got home. He started screaming as soon as she walked through the door.  “What did you do with my money, bitch?!”

“It was our money, dear.”

“I don’t care!  What did you do with the money?”

“All you need to know is that it’s not your money anymore.”

Peter hit her hard across the cheek with the back of his hand.  It spun her head completely around.  She could taste her own blood in her mouth, and she smiled.  She balled up her fist, made a full shoulder turn, and punched Peter in the throat with all her might.  Shock and pain contorted Peter’s face as he stumbled backwards.  He brought both hands up to his throat and made gasping noises.  Rachael took half a step forward and then lashed out with a front snap kick to the groin.  Peter dropped to his knees and then tipped over onto his side.

Rachael walked casually into the kitchen and came back a moment later with a gleaming chef’s knife in her hand.  She knelt down and plunged the knife in to the hardwood floor just inches from Peter’s nose.  He shat himself.  She looked him in the eyes and said, “Don’t come looking for me”.

She reached into his front trouser pocket and grabbed the keys to his new Buick.  Then she ftp all the cash that was in his wallet.  His eyes never left hers.  She rose up, grabbed her purse, and headed out the front door.

 

It’s such a shame ’cause you’ve been so good up to now

 

 

{You’ve Been So Good Up To Now; Lyle Lovett; 1992}