Blue Rinse Witch

By Tony Greenfield

“She lives in a place called Dulwich, Sir.  Just south of the river. Not far from Peckham.”
“How shall I know the place?”
“A large modern house, sir.  But dark ivy and bind weed have grown while she’s lived there and it now looks more like an ancient witch’s grotto.”
“Very apposite, if she can do what’s claimed of her.”
“No doubt about that Sir.  They say she talks with none other than the dead and zombies.”
Gordon thanked his man and soon found the witch’s house.  Although he was well disguised as a common Tory banker, she recognised him immediately: a tall gloomy man, with glowering black eyebrows and a great jaw dark with stubble, from the northern lands of rain and mists and loch-bound monsters
“Come in” Margaret croaked, “I’ve been expecting you. Will you have tea and a scone scon or scoon?”
“I’ll hae none of tha’ treacly talk, you wizened witchly hag.” Gordon barked.  “Just bring me up from the dead the spirit of a man whom I greatly long to meet again.”
And Margaret said “What spirit shall I call up?”
And Gordon answered “Bring me up the spirit of Mandy, the prophet and Kingmaker.”
Then Margaret called for the spirit of Mandy. And,  whether spirits had ever arisen from the dead before or not, at that time the president of the European Commission allowed the spirit of Mandy to rise up from his place among the dead, to speak to King Gordon.
When Margaret saw Mandy’s spirit she was filled with fear. She cried out, and Gordon said to her, “Do not fear; but tell me whom you see.” For Gordon himself could not see the spirit whom the witch did see.   And she said, “I see one like a god rising up. He is a strange and cadaverous man, covered with a long robe.”
Then out of the darkness a voice came from the spirit whom Gordon’s eyes could not see. “Why have you troubled me, and called me out of my rest?” And Gordon answered Mandy, “I am in great distress, for the Tories and Murdoch make war upon me, and my back benchers have forsaken me. They will not speak to me either through a prophet, or a priest, or in a dream. And I, Gordon, have called upon you that you may tell me what to do.”
And the spirit of Mandy said to Gordon, “If the people have forsaken you and have become your enemy, why do you call upon me to help you? Murdoch has dealt with you as I warned you that he would do. Because you would not obey Murdoch, he has taken the voters away from you and will soon also take your number ten, and shall give them to David. And the people will give the kingdom into the hands of the Tories; and then you and your three senior secretaries of state shall be, as I am, among the dead.” And then the spirit of Mandy the prophet and kingmaker passed from sight.
When Gordon heard these words he fell down as one dead, for he was very weak, as he had taken no food nor even a wee drop of the hard stuff all that day. Gordon’s servants who were with him raised him up, and gave him food and liquor,  and tried to speak to him words of cheer. Then Gordon and his men crossed over the river unto Downing Street.
And in the next year a great battle was fought in the streets of the Fleet. The Tories and their supporters did not wait for Gordon’s warriors to attack them. They bribed the editors, and fell upon the Labourites in their camp. Many of the men of Gordon were slain in the fight, and many more fled away. Gordon’s three favourite secretaries of state were killed, one of them, his heir anointed, the brave and noble Milliband.
The people of the kingdom rejoiced. But their rejoicings were brief for all people of the world are fickle.
And the people did turn their backs on David for they saw that he was but whimsy and he had deceived them.
And the people called once more on Gordon and entreated him to save the world for the second time.

(More about Tony)


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