Loni hopped up next to her and began clapping her knees together and fist pumping the air. “I remember! I was dancing with Avner Kleinfelder when this song came on!” Suddenly she stopped moving and put a hand to her chin. “Gosh, I haven’t thought about Avner Kleinfelder in years. I had a huge crush on that boy. I wonder whatever happened to him.”
Char leaned back in her chair. “Dead.”
“No, he is not,” said Loni, lifting her heavily sketched on brows.
Char nodded. “No, he is. A gal I go to bingo with told me. Her ex-sister-in-law or ex-brother-in-law or some in-law or another married him.” She thought about it, but her head was too scrambled from the alcohol to make much sense of her memory. She waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, it was her third marriage. His second. He died about eight years ago.”
Loni put a hand to her heart. “Well, hell’s bells. I can’t believe it.”
Char crossed her arms. “The man died of diarrhea, if you can believe that.”
“Oh, now you’re fooling,” said Loni with a snort.
“No, that’s what she told me. He got ahold of some kind of parasite. They think through the water. He got so dehydrated that he ended up biting the big one.”
“What a way to go,” clucked Phyllis as she stood up to go into the kitchen. “I hope they didn’t put that in his obituary. Died of diarrhea. Can you imagine? You’d be glad you were dead.”
“Come on and dance with me!” sang Gwyn, who had danced her way to the other side of the room. “Whoa oh-oh-ohhh…”
In a jerk, Hazel lifted her head off the table. A line of drool stretched from her chin down to the puddle she’d left on the Formica table. She looked around dazedly. “Who lit her candle?” she asked, thumbing the air.
“Haze! You’re awake. Welcome back to the land of the living,” said Char, rubbing her arm.
Hazel felt her chin with the tips of her fingers. She took a tissue from the table and wiped off the slobber. “What happened?”
“You passed out cold after the second shot. You’re a lightweight,” said Loni as she joined Gwyn on the dance floor.
“What the hell happened to Gwynnie while I was out? Did hell freeze over? Have pigs learned to fly?” she asked, pretending to look out the drawn shades.
“No, Hazel. Gwyn had five shots of tequila, that’s what happened. She’s feeling no pain right now,” said Phyllis. “You missed it. She let Loni check her top for wires.”
“Did you get it on tape?” asked Hazel. “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me.”
“They’re kidding, Mom,” said Gwyn with a giggle. “I’ve been a perfect angel. You’d be proud of me.”
“Hell, Gwynnie, I’d be more proud of you if you’d have let Loni strip-search you.”
“Come dance, Mom,” said Gwyn, ignoring her remark.
Hazel turned her head away from Gwyn. “And throw my hip out again? I’ll pass.”
“You threw it out doing the limbo. You won’t throw it out shaking your moneymaker,” she argued. “Come on. I love this song! Come on, Char, let’s go, Phil!”
“I’m not too old to cut a rug.” Char got up and lifted her arms as she spun around Gwyn and Loni. “Let’s see if you two can keep up.”
Phyllis joined next. Hazel sat quietly, watching the four younger women dance around like teenagers in the kitchen.
“Come on, Haze,” shouted Char. “It’s good for your heart!”
“I’m not worried about my heart. I’m worried about my hip. I can’t throw it out now. I just met a new man at The Village. I gotta keep my business in working order in case he gets frisky.”
“Mom!” breathed Gwyn. “Who did you meet?”
“You just mind your own business, and I’ll mind mine,” snapped Hazel. “I don’t have to tell you everything. You don’t know my life.”
“I do know your life, but I feel too happy right now to let your bad attitude bring me down, Mom.” Gwyn danced with her friends until a different song came on the radio. When it did, the four women laughed the way that old college friends should. Gwyn felt light and free and more than a little buzzed.
“Oh, that was fun,” she remarked as she fell into the chair next to her mother. She took a napkin off the table and blotted the perspiration around her forehead. “I miss those old days, don’t you, girls?”
Char sat down next to her. “I do sometimes. When I see Phil’s granddaughter Mercy and all of her friends running around town, sometimes I wish I was that young again and got to use my magic more.”
“I don’t use mine enough either,” agreed Phyllis. “It’s almost like I’m rusty. Can our magic get rusty?”
“Absolutely. Anything can get rusty from lack of use,” said Char.
“Hear that, Gwynnie? You better get that Army fellow to grease your hoo-ha before it gets rusty and stops working altogether!”
“Mother! Why do you have to be so perverted?”
Hazel shrugged. “It’s fun.”
“Well, we’re talking about magic! You don’t use your magic anymore, and neither do I.”
“I use it,” said Hazel, lifting her chin.
“When?”
“I read minds all the time,” snapped Hazel indignantly.
“I’m not talking about reading minds. When is the last time you conjured anything or made a potion?” asked Gwyn.
“The last time I conjured anything, Jimmy Carter was president. What a mistake that was. Just because a man is a good actor and looks good on the television screen does not mean he should be president.”
“Hazel! Are you trying to say you’re responsible for putting Ronald Reagan in office?” breathed Char.
Hazel’s eyes widened, and she turned her head towards the wall. “I got nothing else to say about that.”
Gwyn’s eyes widened. “Alright, well, that’s exactly what we’re talking about! You haven’t conjured anything since the eighties. Why not?”
That made Hazel stop and think. “I guess I haven’t had a need.”
“Me either,” agreed Loni. “I haven’t had a need for a very long time.”
“Char, when’s the last time you healed someone with your powers?” asked Gwyn.
“I volunteer at the hospital. I help people all the time!” she retorted.
“You heal them?” asked Gwyn.
Char hesitated. “Well, I don’t exactly heal them. Vic’s a baking potion maker, or at least he was. We make things to bring to the patients. It eases their symptoms.”
“You used to heal people when they were sick and injured. Why don’t you do it anymore?” asked Phyllis.
“People at the hospital think that witches healing their patients is bunk,” explained Char. “I’d be banned for life if they thought that’s what I was trying to do. I guess I’ve gotten used to not pressing the issue. It’s exhausting, to be honest.”
“How about you, Gwyn?” asked Char.
“Me?” Gwyn pointed at herself. “I’m too busy to think about magic. Between work and taking care of Mom, I barely have time to use the restroom during the day.”
“Taking care of me?!” screeched Hazel. “I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”
Gwyn’s eyes were droopy as she patted Hazel’s hand. “Of course you can, Mom.”
Hazel widened her eyes. “Don’t patronize me, Gwyndolin Prescott. I might be old, but I’m not feeble. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I just let you think you’re taking care of me because I want you to feel important.”
Gwyn gave her mother a drunken smile. “Alright, whatever you say, Mom.”
Hazel pointed at her daughter. “See how she patronizes me? You’d think I was an invalid or something.”
“We know you’re not,” Char assured her with a gentle smile. “So does Gwyn. She just worries about you is all.”
“I wish we had Kat’s spell book. Wouldn’t it be fun to do a big spell together? I haven’t done a spell with another witch since we graduated!” said Loni.
/> “I wish we had the book, too,” agreed Char.
“Maybe we could do a spell to find the book?” suggested Gwyn.
The women all looked around the room. No one seemed to know a spell that could produce those results. Finally, Hazel tipped her head forward. “If Kat were here, we could do a spell on her and force her to tell us what she did with the book.”
“Well, obviously we can’t do that, she’s dead,” said Loni.
“Right, she’s dead. But she’s here,” said Hazel, nodding towards the urn.
Gwyn sucked in her breath. “Her ashes! Mother! You’re a genius!”
Hazel lifted a shoulder. “Not really, I slept my way to the top.”
“Girls. What if we used Kat’s ashes to do a spell in the garden? We could do a memory spell and figure out what happened to the book!” suggested Gwyn.
“Hot damn, I like it,” said Phyllis, swiping her hands together briskly.
“Me too,” agreed Loni. “We need to get that book back.”
“I’ll go gather the ingredients from Kat’s casting room upstairs,” said Char, standing up.
“I’ll go with Char,” said Gwyn.
“I’ll find candles. I saw some the other day when we were looking for the book,” said Phyllis.
Loni hobbled over to the kitchen counter. “I’ll put my mask back on.”
Everyone looked at Hazel as she stood up next. “I’ll warm up the recliner in the living room. Call me when you’re ready.”
21
As they tiptoed out to Katherine Lynde’s garden in the middle of the night, Char held up the urn she carried, leaned over, and whispered, “Don’t you think Kat would be upset that we’re not scattering her ashes around her roses?”
“We’re only doing this because she stole our spell book and then lost it. It’s her own damn fault for stealing it from us in the first place! She owes us,” Phyllis hissed back, carrying an armload of supplies. “Besides, if she were here, she’d tell us to do this very thing.”
Walking in front of them, Gwyn swiveled her torso around. “Don’t worry, when we’re done with the spell, we’ll pour the potion out onto her roses. Maybe it’ll make good fertilizer.”
“All I know is that when I’m dead, you better not make me into fertilizer,” snapped Hazel. “I want to be buried facedown and naked, so anyone who didn’t like me can kiss my ass.”
“Oh, Hazel, you’re terrible,” hissed Char as she maneuvered through the flower garden to the very center, where an empty cauldron waited to be used.
“Point that flashlight over here, Loni,” hollered Phyllis.
“Are you crazy, Phyllis Habernackle?! Take my name outta your mouth! Someone might hear you!”
“It’s midnight, Loni. Who’s outside at this hour?”
“You can never be too sure,” Loni hissed back. “Call me George.”
“I’m not going to call you George,” said Phyllis.
“Okay, fine. Just don’t say my name, then!”
“Oh my gosh, Loni, you’re being ridiculous,” said Char.
“You can’t say my name either!” railed Loni into the darkness. “What is it with you people? Can’t you respect my right to privacy?”
“We’re skulking around Kat’s fenced-in backyard, in the dark, at midnight. What’s more private than this?” asked Phyllis.
Gwyn sighed. “Girls, can we please do this spell? I need to get Mom home. I have to work in the morning. I’m going to be exhausted.”
“And hungover,” quipped Loni.
“Okay, well, we need water,” said Gwyn, pouring the two ice cream buckets she carried into the cauldron.
Loni held up the two buckets she carried and then poured each one into the cauldron too.
“Sprinkle those frog warts in there,” Gwyn instructed Char. “Phyllis, did you find the candles?”
“Yes, I have them,” said Phyllis, looking around the area for a place to put them. “I’ll get them set up while you four get the water boiling.”
Without a word, Gwyn spun a bright ball of glowing orange electrical energy in her hands. She worked it up into a frenzy by rolling her hands as if she were rolling a ball of dough between her palms.
“Wait, Gwyn, let me put down some kindling first. That grass is too wet,” said Char, rushing to a small pile of firewood that Kat must have brought out for her own spell. She put several split logs beneath the hanging cauldron and then stepped back.
Gwyn sucked in a deep breath and threw the fireball at the base of the cauldron, and the pile of wood burst into flames.
“You’ve still got it!” cheered Loni.
Gwyn blew on her fingertips and rubbed them on her shoulder. “Nice to know!” she said with a smile. “Go ahead, girls, finish adding the ingredients.”
“Two cloves of amethyst root,” said Char as she dropped the woody tendrils into the water. “A pinch of spiderweb silk. Two shakes of nightshade pollen, a scoop of elephant memory dust, and four dried blueberries for color.”
“And most importantly,” added Phyllis as she lifted the lid off of Kat’s urn, “Katherine’s ashes.”
Gwyn looked down into the pot. “Goodbye, Kat.”
“I’ll say my goodbyes when her memories show us what happened to the book. Are we ready?” asked Phyllis. “The water is boiling, and my bunions are burning.”
“I think we are,” said Char. “Okay, everyone. Stand back. Circle the pot.”
The five women moved slowly around the cauldron. Gwyn took hold of her mother’s hand and then turned to take Phyllis’s. Phyllis took Gwyn’s and Char’s hands. Char took Loni’s hand, and Loni took Hazel’s hand.
“I sure hope this works,” said Gwyn. The flesh on her arms pebbled as they began to chant in unison.
We call to the North that time be reversed.
We call to the South that history be repeated.
We call to the East that memories be unearthed.
We call to the West that truths be revealed.
An electric blue steam bubbled up from the cauldron and surrounded the women, clouding their vision and camouflaging their bodies. In turn, they each looked up to the sky and slowly released each other’s hands. In a gentle scooping motion, they pulled the steam to their faces, inhaled the mist and let it cover them completely.
In this misty haze of truth
Clear away the cobwebs from our third eye
Show the memories of Katherine Lynde
On the night she died.
Show us what she saw and heard
Give us the truth that we deserve.
“It’s working!” cheered Gwyn as the fog began to lift. “Again, girls, again!”
In this misty haze of truth
Clear away the cobwebs from our third eye,
Show the memories of Katherine Lynde
On the night she died.
Show us what she saw and heard,
Give us the truth that we deserve.
The mist lifted higher into the air and slowly swirled into a cloud. And just as clouds begin to form shapes in the sky, so did the mist begin to form a scene.
“Oh my gosh,” whispered Gwyn with a hand to her mouth. “It’s Kat!”
“Kat!” breathed Char.
Lines and shadows formed in the scene, making Kat’s face more clearly defined, and showed her standing in front of the very cauldron they stood in front of now. With her arms held out wide to either side, she stood with her eyes closed as she chanted to the heavens. A spell book was in front of her.
“The book!” exclaimed Phyllis as wind picked up around her, blowing tendrils of her hair up around her shoulders. “She had the book that night! I knew it!”
The cloudy outline of Kat slowly lowered her arms. Thunder and lightning bellowed in the sky above them. Kat closed up the book, tucked it under her arm and headed towards the house.
“She’s leaving!” shouted Phyllis. “She’s got the book.”
“Wait. Did you just see something move over the
re?” asked Gwyn, pointing to a dark, shadowy cloud in the lower corner that seemed to be moving towards Kat.
“I didn’t see anything,” said Loni, squinting her eyes.
“Me either,” agreed Char.
“There!” Gwyn pointed at the dark shadow as Kat turned around.
“Oh my God,” breathed Char, staring as the cloaked figure reared back with a shovel.
“He’s going to hit her!” screamed Gwyn, her heart racing in her chest.
“Zap him, Kat, zap him!” hollered Char with hands on either side of her cheeks.
“She dropped the book!” breathed Phyllis. “She’s gonna get him!”
“Oh my God,” they all breathed in unison as they watched their friend take a hit to the head with a shovel and immediately crumple to the ground.
“Kat!” screamed Char. “No!”
Tears sprung up into Gwyn’s eyes, and she felt the immediate urge to vomit. “Kat!” she whispered, reaching a hand out to touch her friend’s face in the cloud.
Phyllis pointed at the cloudy mist. “Look, he bent over to pick up the book!” And then, as if someone had flicked off the television set, the cloud went black. “No! Keep showing us! We need to see his face!”
“It’s too late. She’s gone. It only shows us her memories,” whispered Loni. “I can’t believe this. Kat was murdered!”
“We have to do something,” said Char. “We have to tell the police.”
“It’s after midnight. We can’t go now. We’ll go in the morning,” said Phyllis.
“What are the police going to do?” asked Hazel. “You saw her killed in a magical cloud and the body’s been cremated. You have no proof.”
“We can tell them what we saw!” breathed Gwyn.
Hazel let out a puff of air. “You can tell them, but what evidence do you have?”
“We don’t,” said Char sadly.
“Exactly,” said Hazel. “You need to go to them with some hard evidence. Maybe then they’ll take you seriously.”
The girls looked around. “Where are we supposed to find any evidence? The man came out of nowhere!” said Gwyn in shock. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, and her hands shook after seeing one of her dearest friends murdered in front of them.
That Old Witch!: The Coffee Coven's Cozy Capers: Book 1 Page 16
