“Hey, you look hot…do you want a beer? Or some water?”
I squint my eyes at the two ladies sitting nearby on the sand. I had come to the beach by myself with few supplies. I am hot, and would, in fact, love a beer.
I smile back at them. “That is so kind of you! Thanks!”
“Just bring your stuff over here by us!”
I grab my bag and drag my sarong over to where they are. They promptly pull out an ice cold Dos Equis, and hand me some lime juice and salt. This definitely isn’t their first rodeo, and I nod internally in approval.
We talk for a bit and I learn that they are old friends and live on the island. Their skin is a deep brown, and I can tell they spend most weekends here. Not a bad life. After a bit of chit chat I turn back to my book. (Shantaram – if you haven’t read it, stop everything you’re doing and buy it now.)
A few moments later, one asks me “Have you ever used orange liqueur?”
“I haven’t” I reply, shaking my head. “Is that a recipe book?” I point at the tiny book in her hands.
She gives me an odd look and shakes her head no. She holds the book up. The title reads: How To Cast Spells.
I was way off.
“Oh, are you a witch?” I ask, thinking there’s no way…
“Sort of.”
“Like…Wiccan??”
“Well…yeah. We both are.” And she points at the friend next to her who isn’t looking at me. No doubt they are either waiting for me to scamper away in fear or pull out my pitchfork.
Since I have insatiable curiosity, I do neither. I just keep asking questions. I mean, come on. Witches! I wasn’t going anywhere.
We launch into a discussion about their religion (it’s an earth religion with strong roots in Christianity – something I didn’t know) how they practice, what the purpose of a séance is and their first experiences with one, the details of their coven (they meet at The Witchery in Galveston, if you’re interested), the differences between white and black witches, and the purpose of casting spells.
I flip through their spell books and realize they are nothing more than affirmations, with a “light a candle” here or a “sprinkle some rose petals” there. But that’s pretty much it. I could totally be a witch.
“We’re white witches, so all of our spells are used for good. Attracting love, wealth, praying for protection against Satan…”
“Whoa whoa whoa. So you guys believe in Satan?” I’m baffled. These witches are teaching me so much.
“Oh, absolutely! You can’t have good without evil. Heaven without Hell. God without Satan.”
I interject: “So you believe in Heaven and Hell, too?”
“Yes of course! There has to be a Hell if there is a Satan.”
I shrug my shoulders. “That’s really interesting – I didn’t know you guys had so many parallels to Christianity. Personally, I don’t believe that a “Satan” exists, nor do I believe Hell exists.”
And they look at me like I just told them I drink blood on a daily basis.
“What? How could you even say that! You have to have the yin and yang of the Universe. That balance. You can’t have good without evil! Hell and Satan absolutely do exist. There is no other explanation.”
“Hey! I thought this was a safe place to share! Aren’t we all allowed to believe what we want?” And I laugh at the irony of witches telling me what I believe is wrong.
Regardless of our differences, they invited me to go to The Witchery with them, so I gave them my number. They’ve yet to contact me. 
As I left to go back home, I said I wouldn’t be mad if they cast a few love spells in my direction every now and then, and we all had a good laugh. Those witches are alright.
Erin's Guide to Living 