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Time of the Witch Page 3


  Holding Jason's hand tightly, I stood still, trying to look her in the eye. "Good afternoon," I said, as politely as I could. I wanted to run past her, but my legs felt like boiled spaghetti, so I just stood there, staring at her, sure she was Maude Blackthorne and probably a raving maniac capable of anything.

  "I know who you must be," she said, stepping closer to us. "I'd know that red hair anywhere. You must be Margaret's granddaughter. Laura, isn't it? Staying with your Aunt Grace for the summer."

  This close, I could smell the musty odor of old clothes. Shrinking back against Jason, I nodded my head. "How do you know my name?"

  The old woman chuckled softly. "I know many things, Laura. Would you ask the moon how it knows the night's secrets? Or the roots of a tree how it knows the dark? I've seen you and Jason at the creek building your little castles and I've seen you sitting on Grace's porch in the evenings. Haven't you seen me, my dear?"

  "On the road last night, I saw you then," I whispered.

  "Ah, did you? I thought you might have, I thought it was your face at the window staring out at me."

  "What were you doing there in the middle of the night?"

  Maude chuckled again. "Walking about, walking about, up and down and round and round, enjoying the dark." Before I could duck away, Maude's hand shot out and grasped a few strands of my hair. "Such pretty hair, red like your grandmother's, long and wavy like hers. And your eyes, big and gray like hers. Pretty, pretty face like hers. Yes, seeing you brings back memories, memories of days when Margaret and I roamed these woods like sisters."

  "We have to go." I backed away with Jason clinging to me. "It's time for lunch and Aunt Grace must be looking for us."

  "What's this, Laura?" Maude leaned closer, staring at my T-shirt. "I don't get mad, I get even," she crooned, tracing the words lightly with a long, jagged fingernail.

  I drew back and folded my arms across my chest, wanting, too late, to hide my decal. "I bought it for a joke, to shock my mother," I said nervously.

  Maude chuckled. "A joke, eh? I find it a rather interesting statement, my dear, one I quite agree with. Why, if I weren't such an old lady I'd go out and buy one myself."

  She reached out and stroked my hair, untangling it with her strong fingers. "You must come to see me, Laura. I get lonely with no one to talk to. Your grandmother and I were such good friends, such dear friends. Please promise you'll come to see me. I live up there—see where the path goes?"

  She pointed at a path so narrow I wouldn't have seen it without her help. "My little house is up at the top of the hill. There's not another house in sight, you can't miss it."

  "I don't know," I stammered. I didn't want to hurt her feelings by saying no, but I certainly didn't want to go anywhere near her house.

  "I'll make it worth your while," Maude said, bending so close to me I could see the pores in her wrinkled skin. "You see, I can help you, Laura. I know what you want and I can help you get it. I have the power to grant your wishes."

  She leaned on her walking stick, her eyes probing mine as if she could read every thought hidden in their depths. "Come to me soon, Laura. I'll be waiting for you. In dark or in daylight, come to me and I'll help you for the sake of my old friend Margaret." Turning away, she struck off into the woods without looking back.

  For a second, Jason and I stood still, staring at each other. Overhead, a crow cawed loudly and flew past us, taking the same direction as Maude.

  "What did she mean, Laurie?" Jason looked up at me, his eyes huge.

  "I'm not sure." I stared up the path after Maude, but she was already out of sight. Not a leaf rustled to mark her passing, not a branch stirred.

  "You won't go to her house, will you?" Jason's voice trembled. "I'm afraid of her. She's not nice, I can tell."

  "Come on, let's go back to Aunt Grace's." I didn't need to make that suggestion twice. For once, I had to hurry to catch up with Jason.

  By the time we got home, we were almost dead from the heat and out of breath from running. Before we went inside, though, I grabbed Jason's arm and leaned down so I could look him right in the eye. "Don't tell Aunt Grace about seeing Maude, okay?"

  "Why not?" Jason squirmed, trying to get away from me, but I squeezed his arm tighter.

  "She told us not to cross the creek, remember? She'll punish us if she finds out we disobeyed her. You don't want to get a spanking, do you?"

  Jason shook his head, his lip trembling. "No."

  "Then keep your mouth shut about Maude. I mean it, Jason." I gave him a little shake and then released him so quickly he lost his balance and sat down in the grass. "Come on," I said, "let's go in and have lunch. I'm starved."

  After lunch, Jason fell asleep on the living room couch and I sat down on a stool near Aunt Grace's drawing table to watch her paint. She was finishing up the crow, concentrating on adding highlights to his features. Sitting there looking at the painting, I realized whom it must have reminded my mother of. Maude, of course. Hadn't that crow followed her up the path like a dog following its owner?

  Despite the afternoon heat, I shivered, remembering how often I'd seen a crow perched near Jason and me at the creek. As the sound of bees droning about the flowers in the window box drifted into the kitchen, I thought of a book I'd read last year about witchcraft. In it, the author had said that a witch usually had a familiar in the shape of an animal or a bird, such as a toad, a cat, or a crow. If Maude were a witch, the strange things she'd said to me made sense.

  "My, Laura, you look very preoccupied. Whatever are you thinking about?" Aunt Grace smiled at me as she swished her brush in a jar of water.

  "Oh, nothing." I hesitated. "Looking at that crow reminded me of this witchcraft book I read. Do you believe in familiars and stuff like that?"

  Aunt Grace smiled and shook her head. "No. I'm not the superstitious type. But up here you'll find people who take it quite seriously."

  "Really? Did you ever know anyone who claimed to be a witch?" I thought I'd put that pretty subtly, so I leaned back and started doodling on a piece of scratch paper. I didn't want to look too interested in Aunt Grace's answer.

  "Once I did," she said slowly, "but I never believed her." She got up and stepped away from her drawing table, staring at her picture critically. "How does he look to you, a little menacing?"

  I nodded. "He's really good. And he looks scary, sort of like a familiar." I wanted to get her back on the subject.

  "A familiar, huh?" That's just what your mother thought." Aunt Grace smiled and ruffled my hair.

  "The old woman she was talking about was Maude, wasn't it?" Keeping my eyes on my doodling, I waited for her answer.

  "Are you planning to be a detective when you grow up? You certainly seem to have mastered the technique of asking questions whose answers you already know." Aunt Grace laughed and sat back down. "Yes, she was talking about Maude, and yes, Maude claims to be a witch, and no, I don't believe her. Now can we change the subject?"

  "Why don't you believe her?"

  "Because I'm a realistic person with a practical mind. If I ever see any real evidence that a person can cast a spell or summon up the devil or ride through the air on a broomstick, I may change my mind, but so far I haven't come across a shred of evidence. Now what would you like for dinner tonight? We could have tuna salad or fried chicken. Which appeals to you?"

  That night I woke up around midnight. I expected to see Jason in my doorway, but the house was silent and there wasn't a sign of him. Wondering what woke me, I slipped silently out of bed and tiptoed to the window.

  The road lay empty, silvery in the moonlight, but someone stood on the lawn as still as a statue, her face raised toward my window. It was Maude, a crow perched on her shoulder. Even though I was standing behind the curtains in the shadows at the edge of the window, she raised her hand. While I watched, too scared to move, she turned away and strode back to the road, her shoulders bent but her step sure.

  Chapter 5

  "Laurie, there's som
eone there!" Jason grabbed my arm and pointed toward the creek.

  I stopped behind Jason, my hand on his shoulder, and stared at the wall of bushes bordering the creek. Even though the sun was shining, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise and for a moment I wished I hadn't persuaded Jason at breakfast to go to the creek. Maybe we should have stayed in the backyard the way he wanted to. Although I wanted to see Maude again, I was afraid to get involved with a witch. If I let her help me, would I lose my soul to the devil or something?

  With Jason clutching at me, I tiptoed ahead, trying to peer through the bushes without being seen.

  "It's Maude, it's Maude, I know it is," Jason whimpered.

  But it wasn't Maude. It was a girl around my age, but skinnier and smaller. With her back turned to me, she was slowly and methodically trampling Jason's sand castle flat.

  "What do you think you're doing?" I slid down the bank as the girl whirled around to face me.

  "What's it to you?" Folding her pale, freckled arms across her skinny chest, she stared at me as if I were the trespasser. Her face was small and pointed, splattered with freckles, and her eyes were a brown so dark I could hardly see the pupils. Her hair was short and bushy curly, several shades redder than mine.

  "Can't you see that sign?" I pointed to a faded No Trespassing sign, pocked with bullet holes and sagging from a tree trunk on the bank of the creek.

  "Course I see it. You think I'm blind or something?" The girl stared at me.

  "Well, this is my aunt's property and I'm telling you to get off it!" I shouted. "Just look what you did to my brother's castle!"

  The girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other, investigating what was left of Jason's castle. Then she looked over my shoulder at Jason. "It sure isn't anything to cry about," she said to Jason. "How was I supposed to know it was a castle? It just looked like a plain old heap of sand to me." She shrugged and smoothed the sand with one bare foot.

  "It's okay," Jason sniffed.

  "It is not okay, Jason! She hasn't any right to come here and mess up things on Aunt Grace's property!" I wanted to grab the girl by the straps of her overalls and shake her for standing there looking so smug. Who did she think she was?

  "Well, what are you going to do? Call the cops?" The girl glared at me and then grinned at Jason, a friendly gap-toothed grin that squeezed her freckles together. "Hey, you want to build it up again? I'll help you."

  Jason looked up at me without releasing his grip on my hand.

  "What's your name?" I asked, still trying to sound as if I were in control of the situation.

  "Wanda Orton." She grinned at me then. "What's yours?"

  "Laura Adams. And this is my brother Jason."

  "I got two brothers, but Billy's in the Marines and Duane's in the Army. Billy's in North Carolina and Duane's in Korea. I also got a sister Charlene. She works in Harrisburg at the Dairy Queen, but she lives at home still." Wanda paused, for breath I guess, and squatted on the sand next to Jason. "You want me to help now?"

  Jason didn't look at her and he shifted toward the left, away from Wanda, but he nodded his head. "Okay," he mumbled.

  Wanda started building up a tower she'd squashed flat. "You just visiting here for a while?" she asked me.

  "We'll be here all summer." I knelt down beside her and scooped up some sand for another tower.

  "Our mother and father are getting a divorce," Jason said, "so they can't take care of us now."

  Wanda sighed. "That happened to me too. First my daddy ran off with a waitress at the Dew Drop Inn and then my mother went and left us with our grandmother while she went off to find a job."

  Wanda paused and scrutinized her tower. "It's lopsided, ain't it?" She patted it carefully back into shape. "She never came back, so my grandmother got stuck with all four of us and just when she finally got rid of Billy and Duane, Charlene went and had a baby and now she's got it to take care of too. She fusses about things sometimes, but I can tell she loves Tanya Marie."

  "Does Charlene's husband live at your house too?" I stared at Wanda, trying to make sense of what she'd said.

  "Husband?" Wanda pushed her hair back from her forehead and laughed. "Who said anything about a husband? Charlene ain't married! Eddie ran off and left her when she told him she was pregnant and she hasn't seen him since."

  I looked down at the sand, too embarrassed to look at Wanda. If I had a sister like Charlene I certainly wouldn't go around telling perfect strangers her life story.

  "Does your grandmother have long white hair?" Jason asked.

  Wanda stared at him, a little surprised at the sudden change of subject. She shook her head. "She's always saying she should have it from all the problems she's had, but her hair's redder than mine. Why?"

  "We saw an old lady in the woods up there." Jason pointed across the creek. "She had long white hair and she looked like a witch."

  "You must've seen Maude." Wanda's eyes widened and she looked in the direction Jason pointed, as if she were afraid the old woman was standing there watching us. "You know what people say about her, don't you?"

  I nodded, my skin creeping. "My aunt says it isn't true, though. She says Maude's just the town eccentric."

  "Ask my grandmother about her sometime. She'll tell you she's a witch all right." Wanda hunched over the castle, her body tense.

  "You said she wasn't, Laurie. You said she wouldn't hurt us." Jason stared at me, his lower lip trembling.

  "Well, I can tell you she is a witch," Wanda said, "And I wouldn't go anywhere near her or her house if I was you."

  Jason put his hands over his ears and started singing the "Sesame Street" theme song.

  "What's he doing?" Wanda stared at Jason.

  "He always does that when he doesn't want to hear something scary. Don't pay any attention to him." I scooted a little closer to Wanda. "What do you know about Maude? How do you know she's a witch?"

  "Well, she lives all by herself and she doesn't have anything to do with anybody. The only time she ever goes into Blue Hollow is to buy groceries. She doesn't even go to church. And she acts so peculiar. Comes down the road leaning on her walking stick in her dirty old clothes with that crow on her shoulder, mumbling and muttering and talking to herself, looking all around with mean old eyes, just waiting for a chance to say something nasty. I'm scared to death of her." Wanda paused to scratch a mosquito bite.

  "Does she cast spells or anything?" I whispered.

  "My grandmother claims she does. She says Maude can cure diseases and tell the future too." Wanda looked across the creek at the green trees rising tall and silent. A crow cawed and flew slowly from one to another. "Don't those trees sometimes give you the feeling they're watching you?" she asked.

  I nodded, remembering what Maude had said about seeing Jason and me playing here beside the creek.

  "What did she do when you saw her?" Wanda looked at me curiously.

  "Nothing, really. She grabbed my hair, like this." I held up a few strands of my hair. "And then she said I looked just like my grandmother."

  "She didn't cuss you or swing that big stick of hers at you?"

  I shook my head. "She was actually kind of friendly. She kept saying what good friends she and my grandmother had been and then she said I should come to see her, that she could help me." I stared at Wanda. "Even though she didn't do anything, she was scary."

  Wanda nodded. "I wonder what she wants to help you with."

  I shrugged. I didn't know Wanda well enough to tell her how badly I wanted to get my parents back together again.

  "Charlene went to her once, but it didn't do her any good. She got a love potion or something to make Eddie marry her, but she's still waiting." Wanda stood up and brushed the sand off the seat of her overalls. "Well, it was nice meeting you all, but I got to get on home. It's about time for Tanya Marie to wake up from her afternoon nap and I have to entertain her while my grandmother watches the soaps on TV. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, Laura."

  "
Wait a minute!" I scrambled up the path behind Wanda. "What do you mean Charlene got a love potion from Maude?"

  Wanda grinned at me over her shoulder. "I haven't got time enough to explain it now. If I don't get home, my granny will kill me for sure. Come on over to my house tomorrow. Okay?"

  "Where do you live?"

  "The next house down the road from your aunt going away from Blue Hollow. You can't miss it. It sets up on a hill and it's white where there's still some paint left." Wanda turned her back and ran off into the woods, leaving the bushes swinging wildly in her wake.

  "Let's go home now, Laurie." Jason got up from the sand, leaving his half-built castle behind him. "I don't like it here anymore!"

  Above my head a crow cawed loudly and I looked up. There he was, only a foot or so above me, perched on a limb, his yellow eyes regarding me curiously. Without thinking, I picked up a stone and tossed it at him. I was never good at throwing, so the stone missed him completely, but at least he flew away, cawing as he flapped across the creek and into the woods.

  Chapter 6

  When we got home, Aunt Grace was out in the garden picking peas. "Just the people I was hoping to see!" she called. "Come on over here and help me fill this bucket."

  "I hate peas," Jason wailed, but he ran across the lawn to join her.

  I followed him slowly, hating the hot sun on my back, hating the cloud of gnats circling my head, hating the thought of kneeling down in the dirt and picking peas. I wanted to sit in the shade and drink a glass of cold Coke and plan what I was going to do about Maude. Making no effort to be friendly or pleasant, I yanked a few pods off the vine and dumped them into the bucket.

  "Are we going on a pea diet?" I scowled at Aunt Grace, thinking she'd already picked enough to feed an army of vegetarians.

  "What's the trouble, Laura? Heat getting to you?" Aunt Grace pushed her hair out of her face. Although her own T-shirt was damp with perspiration and beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, she smiled as if she enjoyed the heat.