The last of the tea leaves settled. Claire leaned in closer, analyzing them for a moment, before recoiling suddenly in fear.

“The octopus!” she gasped. “The symbol of danger!”

“No… not the octopus…” whispered Elsie, thoroughly absorbed in the drama.

Claire turned to her stack of tarot cards, pulling the first card off of the pile. She didn’t exactly know how the Tarot worked, but she had taken the time to memorize all the ominous cards.

“Reverse Wheel of Fortune!” Claire revealed before placing the card back on the deck, pushing it away from herself, and covering her mouth with her hands. “Bad fate and unexpected events! Oh my...I should warn the family...”

“I’ll dispose of these immediately,” Elsie offered, taking the teacup and hurrying across the penthouse towards the kitchen, where she poured the offending tea leaves down the trash compactor.

Claire rushed from room to room seeking her younger siblings. As the eldest, she felt duty-bound to look out for her brothers and sisters, even though they were well into adulthood. She passed the east-wing study, where Dennis sat in his leather chair, reading the Arts & Entertainment section of the newspaper.

“Unexpected events today, Dennis! Keep an eye out!” she called into the room, without bothering to stop and explain. Dennis rolled his eyes from behind the newspaper, gave a contrite wave of acknowledgment with one hand, and continued to read.

From the study, Claire headed straight towards her sisters’ bedrooms when, from down the hall, she spotted Mitch in the Grand Foyer. He was shutting the front door, and holding a small box. Claire stopped in her tracks, observing her brother as he stared down quizzically at the package. She waited a moment, before edging towards him cautiously.

“Hello Mitch. What have you got there?” she said, tipping her head towards the box and looking at it askance. This was most definitely an unexpected event.

Mitch shook the package.

“I don’t know. There’s no return address… you want it?” he extended the box towards his sister. Claire took a step back, swatting at Mitch’s outstretched arm.

“Careful, Mitch! Bad fate is imminent! IT COULD BE CURSED!”

Mitch chuckled. Typical Claire. She was always stumbling upon bad omens. Earlier that very week, Mitch had been cornered by his sister in the kitchen, and forced to listen to her hypothesis on why her career as a writer had never panned out. Apparently, her right hand was cursed.

Mitch continued to hold the box in offering to his sister, not wishing to indulge in her theatrics.

“If you don’t take it, I’m just going to open it myself…” he said, as Claire glanced back and forth between the box and her brother’s exasperated face. She considered his offer.
“…but what if it curses you…”

“Whatever,” Mitch tore the paper off the box and opened the lid. He rifled through the layers of Styrofoam insulation and bubble wrap, and pulled out a small object, wrapped in a dusty piece of cloth and secured with a length of twine. He held it up, showing it to Claire.

“It looks ominous,” she said, shaking her head.

Mitch unknotted the twine, carefully removed the cloth covering, and stared at the object, which was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. He examined it for a moment, then snorted loudly, and held his hand out to Claire.

“It’s an old clay hippo. Maybe you should ask your antique dealer to identify his shipments a little better,” said Mitch. Claire eased forward and took the little treasure from his hand, holding it close to her heart.

“My ancient Egyptian Goddess of Maternity! My goodness, that was silly of me, wasn’t it Mitchy? Thank you,” she said quietly, and turned away to take a closer look at her new acquisition.

Almost immediately, Claire stifled a terrified gasp.

This was not the Goddess of Maternity hippo she’d requested.
It was the dreaded burial hippo! The embodiment of all things wild and dangerous!

Claire tried to act nonchalant.

“ALL RIGHT! Well. I’m going to retire to my collectibles room and find a place for this…” she explained, gingerly holding up the hippo between two fingers and backing slowly down the hall.

“Whatever. I’m keeping this bubble wrap,” Mitch replied, waving the plastic sheet in the air and wandering off to his bedroom amidst a chorus of popping.

With Mitch safely in his room, Claire hurried off to her private study. She placed the hippo figurine on a special shelf designated for items of a questionable nature (which was very close to overflowing), then turned to her bookshelf. She cocked her head and ran her finger along the spines of the books.

“Aha!” she exclaimed to herself, as she found what she had been seeking: a dusty old tome entitled “Balint’s Guide to Curse Reversal”. She pulled it from the shelf and began poring through its delicate pages. She had a sneaking suspicion that her brother might require a good de-vexing before the day was through...