I brought a sack of gummix and a bottle of shoulder oil to the clerk.

Beep! Beep!

"That'll be fourteen ninety-seven."

I knew I couldn't aura up all that. Not that much in the bank.

"How about for just the sack?"

"AIEEEEEEEEEE!" came a scream from the back room.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Somebody drew a hex on the bathroom wall. They're having trouble removing it."

"Removing it, you say? I might be of some assistance."

You see, I'm the president of HEX CLUB!

"I dunno, kid. It's pretty stubborn. Janitor is still sobbing out back."

"Well the first thing, sir, is that your janitor undoubtedly looked directly at the hex."

"Sure he did. How else do ya think he'd go at it?"

"Wearing THESE!" and I whipped on my Hexa-flexa protective goggles.

"Now," I said, "if you'll please escort me to the bathroom. Down that long hall. Take me by the hand... I can't see a thing in these..."

"This meeting of Hex Club will now come to order."

"Hear hear!"

"Uh, Minx? We don't have a quorum."

"We....? One two three four five six seven eight..."

"Who do we appreciate?"

"Nine cats moving backwards on a ladder..."

"No Sniffy! This is not time for a hex. Ok who's not here?"

"HESSIAN!" everyone cries together.

"Oh, sheesh. Figures. Where's Hessian now?"

"Uh, Minx? He said he was taking the Hex Protection Goggles out for a spin."

"But the HP Goggles are right there, on their stand. Right next to the..."

"The Goggles of Unfathomable Knowing are missing!"

"Cripes. Hessian must have taken them by accident."

"But if he looks at a hex with those..."

"Everybody, we've got to locate Hessian immediately. Take skateboards, bikes, the bubble car, everything. We've got to find Hessian, and quick!

My mom was voted Hex Club Queen in 2008

I prepared myself both mentally and physically as I approached the hex in question, practicing the 9-layer pousse-café breathing technique while subconsciously reciting the Gramaphonium at 16 rpms. I summoned my Magic Eraser in my right hand, and the called the Bronze Wool Fleece into my left.

"Ok, now, feel your way down the side of the towel dispenser. Good, now put your fingers on the wall right next to it."

"Like this?" I asked.

"Yes. It's right in that area, I think."

"You are wise not to look at it, my friend. Only someone with advanced Hexa-flexa protective goggles, like the very ones I am wearing, should ever look directly at a hex," I assured him. "Now, let's take a look at what we've got."

Well, that was odd. It was more like a hole in a wall.

"Did you know you've got a hole here?" I asked.

WHOOOOOSH! VOOOOOOMP!

One of the ways to find active hexes is just look over the town. Look for what looks like smoke. A whisp of black or white curling up between the rooftops. Sometimes doesn’t look like smoke at all. Looks like more of a feeling. 

Sometimes you can follow cats. Outdoor cats, stray cats, feral cats. Sometimes they move towards the hex. Sometimes they are moving away. 

Or it can be a distortion in space time. An extreme high pressure system expanding everything like a funhouse mirror, or an extreme low pressure system, creating a dent, a dip...

I tossed a handful of marbles (hexed) on the parking lot and watched them roll. Down the rain gutter, up over the kerb, onto the sidewalk...

I followed them up the hill.

It was a very deep, dark hole. And a lot roomier than it looked from the outside.

"Spzzzzzz.... spzzzzzz....."

There was light still coming in through the hole behind me. It looked a long way off but lit things up just enough. Things were cob webby.

"Spzzzzzz... spzzzzzz...."

What was that noise?

"Put your finger in it."

"Who said that?"

Dang intrusive thoughts. I hate that guy.

I walked farther down the hole.

"Spzzzzz.... spzzzzz...."

Ah, there it was. A Winward Spinnerette. Snoring.

The marbles clacked their way to the front of the Qwik Stop. @Hessian Burning was at the door with a Winward Spinnerette in his arms.

“You know you’re not supposed to remove those from their natural environment,” I said. “You’re supposed to leave them.”

Hessian looked at the creature in his arms.

“Yeah, I know,” Hessian said. “But, have you ever seen one? In person? Just look at it. It’s… beautiful…”

That was the thing about Winward Spinnerettes. Their charm. Hessian was already under its spell.

It was a Winward Spinnerette. Not just removed from its biome, but brought here, into the Hex Club HQ.

"Hessian...."

"This creature called out to me," Hessian says in the ritual manner.

"It was snoring, you said."

"On an empathic level. Duh."

Some of the Hex Club members in attendance snicker. Others realize how serious this is.

"In accordance with club rules, you are responsible for the creature until a ruling has been made."

"Ruling? I joined this club to be part of a community where we could share information about our favorite hobby. Not so I could be told what to do."

"As you know, our rules are based on experience. Centuries of experience. You made an oath to abide by them."

"Oh jeeze. I guess. Whatever."

"And don't everybody dote over it, lest you get charmed too!"

Most all the members crowd around Hessian and the creature when we adjourn.

I really hate to, but I have to make a trip up the ladder to report this.

With Minx gone upstairs to talk to the Big Guys, it was time to make some changes.

"Alright everybody, with Minx gone a-visiting, you know what that means."

"Changes 'round here!" everybody cheers.

"That's right. Now, pull up those shades! Open those windows!"

"Hooray!" everybody cheers.

"Get all these creepy artifacts off the tables! Stash 'em in the bureau! Put 'em in the drawers!"

"Hooray!" everybody cheers.

"Open up the lemonade!"

"Hooray!" everybody cheers.

"Now, let's start writing those invitations."

"Hooray!" everybody cheers.