by A. M. King
She would have never known.
“I can’t get used to you being so...manly.”
Mr. Dawes laughed. “Neither can I. Trust me, I’d much rather be a woman, but no one suspects me. It works out just as well.”
“No wonder the police saw you, I mean Mr. Dawes, in the area when you...allegedly drowned.”
“Exactly. I didn’t have time to run off by the time the police got there, I had just transformed into this fella, what else could I say?”
“That’s why witnesses reported you came out of nowhere.”
“Exactly.”
“So why were you in the area when I found my ex’s body in the park?”
“I was watching you, darling. I knew his body was there, and I was hoping to telekinetically guide you to him. I’m glad you showed up. I know you needed closure and so did Jonathan, so I made sure that no one else found him.”
“I see. You are clever, aren’t you?”
“I love my girls. And I’m always watching over you.”
“I still don’t get why you just can’t tell Aunties Eartha, Vanity and Trixie.”
“I can’t darling. I can’t risk anyone knowing about me. The evil hunter is near. I cast a very strong spell over me, begging the realm to allow me to hold this spell as long as possible for the sake of saving the Summer family bloodline. We are, after all, one of the last remaining families of true witches. I was granted that exception as you know most spells don’t last long and have restrictions and certainly spells aren’t allowed for personal gain, but this was an emergency to avoid a catastrophe as significant as the Salem Witch Trials.”
Febe’s skin prickled as the hairs stood up. Every magic person and regular human knew very well the horror and tragedy of that dark period in history where witches and anyone accused of knowing or practising magic, anyone who was deemed as different was burned at the stake without a fair or proper trial. If one was accused of magic or being different, that was the end for that poor soul.
Just then someone knocked at the door.
Mr. Dawes walked over to the door. “Which brings me to this package.”
“What’s this about?” Febe asked, while the door opened.
“Hello Mr. Dawes,” Ted, the delivery guy said. “Got a parcel for you. Would you please sign this?” Ted handed Mr. Dawes the clipboard to sign.
Mr. Dawes signed it and promptly handed it back to him to while Ted handed him a medium-sized box wrapped in brown wrapping paper.
Ted then gave Febe an odd look. “Oh, Febe, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.
Crap.
Febe had to remind herself she wasn’t with her mother right now. She was with Mr. Dawes. How odd must that look.
Double crap.
Wasn’t Ted a friend of her Aunt Vanity? Most men were good friends of her Aunt Vanity. And Ted wasn’t one to keep his mouth quiet. In fact, he was a very talkative delivery man. One could say a town gossip.
Ouch.
“Oh, I was just stopping by. I was helping Mr. Dawes with um...”
“She was just helping me with a button I needed sewn on my jacket, Ted. Good day.”
Ted nodded politely, still baffled and was on his way.
“Oh no. What if he tells Aunt Vanity?”
“I doubt it.”
“You didn’t cast a spell over his tongue, did you, Mom?”
“Nonsense. Besides, I can’t do all the spells I used to while wearing this disguise. I can do a little, but I’m slightly restricted.”
“Oh, I see. Don’t you ever get tired of being an older man?”
“I’ve certainly learned a lot about what it’s like being a man, and an older man. It’s actually quite an experiment. You should try it sometime. In fact, I think if human men and human women switched bodies for a day, they’d learn to appreciate each other more.”
Febe grinned. “I’m sure they would.”
“Now Febe, I’m going to tell you this again. You mustn’t breathe a word to another human being, not even my dear sisters, who no matter how powerful a spell you cast over their lips, can’t keep a darn secret to save their witch-blooded lives.”
Febe grinned. “I know, Mr. Dawes. I will certainly not breathe a word about this.”
“Good. And keep calling me Mr. Dawes. The walls have ears. Not these walls, mind you. I managed to cast a protective spell over them before transforming, but everywhere else, we must be vigilant. We can’t afford for the other realm to know, or for the evil hunter to get wind of what we’re doing or it will be all over for us. They have no clue. That’s why I’ve been living in semi-seclusion. Away from everyone. Let everyone know me as the town recluse who gets along with no one. I can’t afford for anyone to know my cover.”
“I know, Mr. Dawes. Your secret is safe with me. Trust me.”
“Good.”
“Can I ask what’s in this package?” Febe had a very funny vibe about it.
“It’s something I’m going to need to try to contact your sister.”
“Marsha?”
“What other sister do you have who is estranged from the family, darling?” Mr. Dawes smiled softly. “I don’t know if it will work, but it’s worth a shot.”
“But she’s not even of age yet.”
“I know. That’s the problem, but right now we’ll take one step at a time. Now you’d better get going, you’ve got tons of guests to entertain over at the Victorian.”
“Please don’t remind me.”
It wasn’t easy giving up your home to guests, especially houseguests who could float through walls.
Chapter 3
Friday night in the kitchen at the Summer Victorian mansion was like no other.
The house was jam-packed. Goblins, witches, warlocks, and ghosts from everywhere were staying over so they could mark the anniversary of the end of the Salem Witch Trials. It was the Festival of Witches and meant to be a tourist Halloween attraction in the town of Blackshore Bay. Little did they know that real witches existed and were also at the festival. Still, it brought in crazy tourism dollars from travellers all over North American and different parts of the world for its spectacular Mardi Gras-like festival and pageantry. Everyone came out in their most colourful costume and over-the-top design with contests for the most elaborate costume.
“Just how many relatives and ancestors do we have?” Febe asked, aghast. The noise level was through the roof.
Febe had been on her feet all day and had just finished cleaning up that massive mansion along with her sister Janvier. And they weren’t even allowed to practise magic. They had to do everything manually.
She went to the kitchen table to take a seat. Suddenly, the chair began to vibrate.
“What the—“
She heard a giggle as the chair wiggled and the chair ejected her clear across the room. The chair then morphed into a warlock.
Crap.
It was her great-great Uncle Hoot. He let out a belly laugh. “You’re too easy, Febe! What a hoot. Get it. You’re really a hoot.”
Bad, bad joke.
“You all right, dear?” Aunt Vanity said, fixing her hair in her compact mirror.
“No, not really. How many relatives are here?” Febe said, getting up and dusting off her clothes.
Auntie Hex said, “Too many to count, darling. It’s only for a couple weeks until the festival is over. Why surely, you don’t mind having a few relatives stay over, do you?”
“A few? Do you mean a few thousand?”
“Darling, they need a place to stay.”
“But they’re not even living. Couldn’t they levitate somewhere?” Febe whispered, feeling terrible for feeling this way. It’s just that she was a private person. She didn’t mind helping people out, but people she could see and people who didn’t just appear out of nowhere when she least expected it or floated around her when she thought she was alone or didn’t morph into furniture and try to deceive her. Talk about creepy to a whole different level—and they thou
ght it was cute or funny?
“I can hear you, you know,” Uncle Hoot said. He was apparently her great uncle from the 19th Century. And oh, had Febe thought she was through with seeing ghosts after the last crime she helped the police solve.
This was insane. How was she supposed to get any studying done?
Family gatherings can get noisy in the land of the living, but it was as if they had no clue as to noise level in the other dimension.
The sound of laughter, chatter, loud voices, bickering, you name it were coming from the living room and the hallways.
Earlier, Febe thought she was alone in the bathroom when she’d come out of the shower only to find the ghost of her great-great Auntie Hoot flossing her teeth.
I mean come on. Flossing her teeth? Who does that in the afterlife?
Febe wondered why Auntie Hoot didn’t hang around her husband Uncle Hoot. They should be spending more time together now that she was in eternity, right? And speaking of which, Febe had no clue as to how that worked out. It was a mystery to everyone. But she was baffled that some could reappear or not move forward and some lingered around, while others just went to the next level of eternity with no trouble.
“I had no idea these ghosts could just appear like that,” Febe said.
“I know, dear,” Aunt Trixie agreed with her. “But trust me, it’s only for a short time.”
“I wish your mother could reappear,” Aunt Eartha said, whipping up another batch of her homemade cupcakes for the guests. She’d just made the most scrumptious dinner earlier for everyone. Turkey with all the trimmings, baked macaroni and cheese pie, scalloped potatoes and more. Talk about a homemade meal made in heaven. The scent still lingered in the kitchen. Febe was amazed at how she was able to make enough for everyone, given the size of their oven. They weren’t supposed to be using witchcraft since the level of energy in the home would be off the charts with everyone’s magic. Still, her Aunt Eartha amazed her.
Febe had a sinking feeling at the mention of her mom.
“I know,” she said, croaking with emotion. But it wasn’t like the emotion of before, when her mom’s name was mentioned since her alleged death, it was emotion that she now knew her mom had to fake her own death and hide from her beloved family to save them after the evil hunter had almost succeeded in murdering her. It was a lot of pressure to keep inside her twenty-five-year old body.
She hoped and prayed Aunt Eartha, Aunt Trixie, Aunt Vanity or Janvier wouldn’t suspect anything funny.
“You all right, my child?” Aunt Eartha asked, concerned.
Oh, no. She senses something, doesn’t she?
Please tell me she doesn’t suspect anything.
Darn, Febe was never good at lying. But then again she wasn’t lying, was she? She just wasn’t saying that she knew something. That her mom wasn’t really dead after all.
She hoped her mom remembered to cast a blocking spell over her mind so that no one could read it. Gosh, she hoped so. Just as she’d used a blocking spell over the parchment note she’d sent to warn them to be on their guard or they’d soon be dead.
“Oh, um...yes, of course,” Febe said, looking down. She could never look anyone in the eyes and lie. What a weakness to have. “I have to leave now. I’m turning in early,” she said.
“No you’re not,” Aunt Vanity said, coming back into the kitchen; she’d left a minute earlier to grab something from her room. “We’re all in this together. I am not going to put up with Uncle Hoot any longer,” Aunt Vanity said, placing her hands on her hips.
“Now what has he done?” Aunt Eartha asked.
“He pretended to be my hair brush. Look at my hair.”
“Oh dear.”
“I’d say it was an improvement,” Aunt Trixie giggled.
“That’s not funny,” Aunt Vanity said.
“She’s right,” Janvier said, coming into the kitchen. “Uncle Hoot morphed into my iPod and it started playing some crazy stuff.”
“Aunt Eartha, as much as we love having our relatives over, this is ridiculous. There need to be some ground rules.”
Aunt Eartha sighed. “Fine. I will speak to Uncle Hoot. He’s just been in the ether for so long and is so happy to see us.”
“I wonder why he’s been in the ether so long.” Aunt Vanity said with a snarky tone while trying to fix her coif.
Aunt Eartha shook her head and grinned. “He means no harm, trust me. But I will speak to him.”
Just then there was a knock on the door.
“Police!” someone called out from the living room.
“What?”
“I bet you that nasty old man next door, Mr. Dawes called police on us,” Aunt Trixie said. “That man is always watching the house like a hawk. Creeps me the hell out.”
“Um, maybe he’s just being neighborly. You know like neighbourhood watch,” Febe said.
They all looked at Febe, stunned.
Okay. Not a good call.
It’s just that she suddenly felt defensive about the old man, knowing that he really wasn’t an old man, but her mother.
Don’t blow Mr. Dawes’ cover, Febe. Whatever you do.
The walls have ears. The evil hunter could have spies anywhere and all the magic in the world wouldn’t be able to hold him back.
Her mom’s words came to her like a haunting whisper. Was Mom trying to tell her something? Okay, she’d have to keep her cool much better than that. Don’t defend the old guy, Febe. Keep things as they were.
“You know something, maybe you’re right. Maybe he did call the cops.” Febe swallowed hard but the lump of lie didn’t go down very well. She was just not good at lying. But then again, maybe Mom did call the cops to try to get their relatives to calm the noise level.
When Febe got to the front foyer, she made her way through the crowd of guests. And there were tons of guests. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear they were multiplying by the minute. Or was that her imagination?
“Trey,” Febe said, alarmed.
“You call him Trey, by his first name?” Aunt Hoot said. Good thing she was a ghost and Trey couldn’t hear her.
Oh, heavens. What had she gotten herself into?
When her aunties told her that they were all witches and she was too, she should have the other way. Run away somewhere far, far away and forget about them. But then again, they were her loving family, right? They were who they were and she was a witch too, so it wasn’t like she could run away from herself, could she?
“Hey Febe,” Trey said. He looked stunning in his jacket and his jeans. She thought he must have been off duty. Which was rare, since he was always working overtime due to short-staffing at the police station. The town had a new mayor and it was taking him a bit of time to review the books before making a decision on the budget for the town’s services including the police services.
“Hey. I’m surprised to see you tonight.” Though deep down she was glad to see a normal human for a change. Someone who didn’t float through walls, or cast spells, or shift into an object like a door or a chair to play pranks on an unsuspecting soul.
Okay, enough venting, Febe.
“I know. Sorry, I didn’t call first. You left your scarf in my car the other day. I forgot to give it to you when we had lunch.”
“Oh my goodness. Thanks so much, Trey,” Febe said, taking the cottony-soft scarf from him and wrapping it around her neck. She needed something to keep it warm since her ghost auntie was breathing cold air down her neck.
“May I come in?” he asked. It was obvious he wanted to speak to her privately about something.
Febe froze. He wanted to come in?
She wished she could come out instead. With him. On the porch. Anywhere but there right now. The last thing she would want was for him to suspect anything paranormal or abnormal going on around her house.
“Um. Sure, I guess.” Not.
He stood there on the porch for a moment, hesitating. Maybe it was because she held the door in place.
She then opened it slightly wider for him to slip inside.
He walked to the front foyer. Music was playing from the living room and guests were chattering amongst themselves. Could he hear them, she wondered.
Auntie Hoot had her arms folded across her chest and a suspicious look in her eyes.
“Is that man bothering you?” Auntie Hoot said in her loud voice. “Why is he blushing? What’s going on between you two, young lady? You can’t possibly be seeing that young man. He’s human,” Auntie Hoot screamed.
Febe stood there, paralyzed with shock. Unsure of how to proceed. What if her dear aunt started to harass poor Trey? Then he’d never come back there to see her ever again.
“Shh. No. Be quiet,” Febe whispered as discreetly as she could.
“Are you all right, Febe?” Trey asked, concern spreading across his handsome face.
“Sure. I’m fine.”
“He’ll probably think you’re schizophrenic by now, with the way you keep talking to invisible people and acting as if you’re hearing voices,” Ebony, her black Bombay cat said as she strutted past her, curling around her ankle. “The fact that he still wants to see you, should make you grateful for any attention you get.”
“Ebony!” Febe said, aghast.
Trey gave her an odd look.
She gave her Auntie Hoot a don’t-you-dare-do-anything-foolish look.
“Aww, hey little fella,” Trey reached down and stroked Ebony gently. “That’s one of the reasons I came by.”
“You did? For my cat?”
“He’s not taking me to the pound, is he? He realizes I do live here. You do own me.” Ebony said and then meowed.
It was obvious that Trey only heard the meow, but Febe could hear her speak as clear as a bell. Or as clear as a human. But was she right? Was she really hearing things? Was this whole experience one heck of a Dorothy in Oz type of dream? Would she wake up and realize that she’d imagined all of this and she wasn’t a witch after all?
“Ouch!” Febe cried out.
Ebony had dug her claws into Febe’s ankle.
Could Ebony read Febe’s mind now too?
