The Witch (13 page)

“This is the second person to die on Stephen. I don’t know how he’ll take it.”

“Do you want me to be there when you tell him?”

“Thanks, Mabel, but I don’t think it would help. It might make him more nervous. If he wants to cry or scream and yell, I don’t want you there to censor him.”

“Oh, Jacob, I have more sense than that. He’s a little boy; of course he’ll be upset. I would expect him to be.”

“Is there some bad karma or black cloud following

Stephen and me around?”

“People die, Jacob. You know catastrophes often happen in three’s.”

“What does that mean, Mabel? Should I be especially wary when I cross streets?”

“The way you cross, yes. No. I don’t know why I said that. Actually, Molly’s death gives me the creeps. Probably because she died in such a strange fashion. We don’t live in the middle of the woods. Where the heck could this animal come from?”

“Could have been someone’s pit bull broke lose. I don’t know.”

“What street was she on when this happened?”

“Matilda.”

“But that’s a major thoroughfare. There’s nothing there but stores.”

“She had stopped for a red light, and whatever it was rushed the car.”

“Makes no sense, Jacob. Are you going to take Stephen to the burial?”

“What for? He’s five. He’s been around enough death. I’m not dragging him to a cemetery.”

“You’re right, Jacob, but he may need some form of closure.”

“We’ll buy a mass card to send to the family. I’ll let him sign his name.”

Mabel shook her head, knowing she’d never be able to win an argument with Jacob.

Stephen jumped up and down on his mattress. “It wasn’t so bad staying with Grannie Smith.” “You mean Mrs. Rosen,” Jacob corrected. “No, she said I could call her Grannie Smith, since she makes the best apple pies in town.”

“Okay, that’s fair. What did you and Grannie Smith do today?”

“Eat!” Stephen screamed. “When you dropped me off she had my favorite breakfast waiting for me. And guess what?” “What?”

“The waffles were in the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head. She used berries for his eyes, a slice of pear for his nose, and whipped cream to give him a broad smile. Then she showed me how to feed her fish, and we watched some stupid show where she kept covering my eyes every time there was a bedroom scene. I told her I’ve seen that stuff before when I watch TV with you.”

“Good. I’m glad you clarified that.” Jacob grabbed his son to stop the bouncing.

“The worst part of the day was when she expected me to take a nap.”

“You weren’t tired?”

“I don’t take naps anymore, Dad. At school we work right through nap time. Instead of napping we usually go out to the yard and run around for a while. Napping is for babies.”

“You didn’t tell her that though, right? You were polite.”

“Yeah. In Grannie Smith’s bedroom I waved to Mom ‘cause she was standing at my bedroom window wishing I were there.”

Jacob rested his hand on his son’s head.

“Momma can’t wave at you anymore. You know that.”

Stephen quieted down and stared up into his father’s eyes.

“Do you have something to say, Stephen?”

Stephen shook his head and continued with the day’s schedule.

“We made apple pies and brownies and Jello in the afternoon. The Jello was for her. The pie and the brownies were for me and her son who was coming for dinner.”

Jacob sat down on the bed and lifted his son onto his lap.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Is it about Brandy and the witch? Did the lady come back? Did she miss Brandy? Did she fall in love with Brandy? That’s what everyone seemed to be doing on Grannie Smith’s television show.”

“No. This is a true story.” Jacob hesitated, not knowing how to begin. “After Molly left our house last night she …”

Silence burdened Jacob’s thinking. How to tell his son?

“Was she unhappy about leaving us?”

“Yes, I think she was.”

“You told her that we could still see each other since we live in the same town. She’s not going away to college for another year.”

“She’s not going to college.”

“Molly’s not a scholar?”

Jacob sighed.

“Molly died in her car last night. It was an accident.”

Stephen’s body stiffened in his father’s arms.

“How did she die, Daddy?”

“The police aren’t sure yet.”

“She didn’t want to die; that’s why she was afraid of Momma.”

“Stop talking about your mother as if she were still alive, Stephen.” Jacob heard his loud voice echo in his own ears. “I’m sorry. People don’t understand when you talk about Momma like that. They don’t know that you’re playing make believe. You even frightened Molly a bit.”

“Momma scared Molly, not me.”

“You’re right. The only way you could scare people is in that wolf costume.”

“Did they find the costume in the car?”

“I don’t know, but we certainly can’t ask about it. Let it be. We’ll come up with an even scarier costume for you.”

“I don’t want to scare people this Halloween, Dad. I want people to smile.”

“I know, we’ll dress you as a belly dancer.”

“Ugh! I’m a boy!”

“That’s why everyone would be smiling.”

“Laughing at me,” said Stephen, a heavy frown forcing his eyebrows to almost meet.

“What do you want to be?”

Stephen shrugged.

“Maybe you can dream about what you want to be,” said Jacob laying his son back on the sheet and pulling up the covers.

“Dad, where’s Molly?”

“I told you she died last night.”

“No, I mean where did she go?”

“Your grandmother would say to heaven.”

“Where do you think she went?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Your grandmother’s guess is as good a guess as anyone could make.”

“You don’t think she’d want to stay on earth like …”

Jacob’s breath halted.

“You don’t think Molly would want to haunt us, do you?”

“Why would she do that?”

“ ‘Cause she might be mad about the way we treated her. When I cut my forehead it wasn’t Molly’s fault. It was mine. I pushed her, and she grabbed some wood boards ‘cause she didn’t want to fall.”

“Why would you push her? “

Stephen shrugged.

“Listen, Molly died in an accident on the way home. She loved you. I know she would never hurt you on purpose. Or even haunt you.” Jacob tweaked his son’s nose. “Now go to sleep”

“Momma, maybe we upset Molly too much. She had an accident.”

“No accident.”

“Dad said it was. Dad wouldn’t lie.”

“He lies when it suits him.”

“Momma, you’re not going to let Molly come back to haunt me, are you?”

“She’ll never see you again.”

Stephen felt cold fingers brush back his tawny hair. Cold lips placed a kiss on his forehead right next to the wound.

“It’s almost all better.”

“Dad says I heal fast.”

“The little people are waiting for you in the basement, Stephen.”

“You mean the uglies.”

He heard his mother laugh.

“They’re beautiful. Tiny and wispy, finely fashioned. A little blood and flesh and they can grow strong.”

“Are they very old, Momma?”

“Older than this world.”

“If they are older than the earth then where did they come from?”

“From the dark pits where fear and vengeance are born.”

“Do they hate people?”

“No, they don’t know hate. They’re little savages that have never felt hate or love or friendship. They only serve. If someone wishes revenge, they will fulfill the wish.”

“Do you hate, Momma?”

The odor of flowers and earth filled the room. The covers no longer offered warmth to Stephen’s small body. And the shade of his mother pulled away from the bed.

“Don’t go, Momma,” Stephen shouted out. He sat up and tried to reach out to the shade, but it became wispier, blending in with the shadows clinging to the bedroom.

“Don’t go, Momma. Please. I don’t want to be alone. What if Molly comes back?”

Jacob opened the bedroom door and flipped the switch for the light.

“Are you okay?” Jacob lifted Stephen up into his arms. “You having bad dreams? How about we bunk together tonight?”

Stephen gripped his father’s T-shirt tightly and bit into the skin of his father’s neck.

“Ow. What are you doing?” Jacob raised Stephen’s face to his and saw that the boy bit his own lip so hard he had drawn blood.

“Come on, Stephen, take a deep breath. It was a dream. Molly is not here and neither is your mother. It’s just us two guys.” Jacob carried his son out of the bedroom.

“I was just getting ready for bed myself. You can keep me company while I brush my teeth. I’ll even let you turn on the TV. Would you like some water?”

Stephen remained stiff in Jacob’s arms and wouldn’t let go of his father when laid on his father’s bed.

“I’m so sorry, son, that all this has happened to you. I wish I could have prevented it. But there was nothing either of us could do.” Gently Jacob opened Stephen’s tiny fingers. “I’m just going to brush my teeth and wash up a bit before bed; won’t take more than five minutes.”

Jacob left the room.

The blanket covered Stephen’s shivering body and cold lips touched his.

“Don’t believe him, Stephen. He caused it all to happen. He made us all sin. He’s to blame and must suffer for it. Help me, little one. Help me.”
Stephen slowly nodded his head.

“It’s not my fault,” said the troll sitting next to Brandy’s cage
.

“Yes, it is. You sent me here and never warned me that the witch would take me prisoner.”

“You wanted the spider, and I merely brought you to the place where the spider was kept. How was I supposed to know she used it in one of her potions? You think she keeps me informed?”

“She admitted you purposefully brought me to her house because she wanted a wart.”

“What’s a wart?” the troll asked. “It’s a viral bump that grows on skin.”

“I got lots of growths, and the witch never asked me for any of them. See?” The troll flipped up his shirt, showing a chest with various sized growths with black thread-like hair growing out of some of them
.

“Please.” Brandy said covering his eyes. “Put your shirt down.”

The troll let go of the shirt, and very bad body odor filled up the basement
.

Brandy sneezed several times before he grabbed hold of the bars of the cage and demanded, “Get me out of here, you … you … kidnapper!”

“I didn’t kidnap you;, the witch did.”

“Herbal brews and stews. I hear voices in the basement.” The witch’s voice carried easily down to Brandy’s and the troll’s ears
.

The basement door squeaked open, and the witch attempted to tip-toe onto the landing without being heard. Unfortunately, the troll had left his sack of rocks on the landing, and the witch tripped over it and tumbled down the stairs in an unsightly display
.

Brandy and the troll covered their eyes as gentlemen should
.

“Beetle brains! Who left that sack at the top of the stairs?” Silence filled the basement. The witch picked herself up and hurriedly smoothed her skirt down over her hips. Catching sight of Brandy and the troll with their eyes covered made the witch pause
.

Did they know she was there? Did they think theywere hiding from her? Or were they playing hide- and-seek and were confused about who was it?

The witch marched over to the troll and kicked him in the shins
.

“Ow!” yelled the troll, moving his hands from his eyes to his shins. His eyes were tightly closed, but hearing all the fuss, Brandy had dared to peek
.

“The troll is taking me away,” announced Brandy
.

“He is?” said the witch
.

The troll opened his eyes and looked at the witch
.

“Well?” The witch tapped one foot on the basement floor and put her hands on her hips
.

The troll shrugged
.

“That is not an answer,” said the witch
.

The troll looked at Brandy. Looked at the witch. And shrugged again
.

“He’s here to rescue me,” said Brandy. “He knows he was wrong in bringing me here. Don’t you?”

“Who do you wish to help, troll? I have been like a mother to you all these years.”

“I could be a father to you. If you need one.” Brandy’s attempt to compete with the witch sounded weak even to Brandy. What would this giant, ugly troll want with a family? Brandy wondered
.

“I really didn’t plan on making anyone unhappy,” the troll said. “I thought Brandy would get his spider and you would get your …” The troll looked at Brandy
.

“Wart,” Brandy reminded him
.

“Yes, yes, exactly. But Brandy doesn’t seem to be happy and you’ve been terribly angry ever since he arrived,” the troll said to the witch. “I wonder whether I did the right thing?”

“Fool! You must go with the magic. Haven’t I taught you little tricks to make ingrown nails disappear? I’ve taught you how to use herbs to make headaches go away. And when you were sick with a tummy ache I spooned my magic potion into your mouth and made you all better. I even blew your nose and patted your forehead dry when you had a cold and fever. You think Brandy would do that for you?”

“Why not?” asked Brandy. “I could baby this oversized child just the same as you. So there!” Brandy faced the troll
.

“You have both been kind to me in different ways. It is hard for me to make a choice. Please don’t make me hurt one of you for the benefit of the other. Please,” pleaded the troll
.

Stephen woke up to the morning sun that sprayed his father’s bedroom. Dad peacefully snored to the right of Stephen.

“Dad,” whispered Stephen. “Dad, I love you.”

His father must have heard the words even in his sleep, because he reached out and drew Stephen into a hug.