WITCH’S BREW
WITCH’S
BREW
by
MARIE-FRANCINE HÉBERT
Illustrated by Phillipe Germain
Translated by Sarah Cummins
CANADIAN CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION
Hébert, Marie-Francine, 1943-
[Sorcière dans la soupe. English]
Witch’s brew
Translation of: Une sorcière dans la soupe.
ISBN 0-929005-52-X
I. Germain, Philippe, 1942- . II. Title.
III. Title: Sorcière dans la soupe. English
PS8565.E256713 1993 jC843’.54 C93-094752-5
PZ7.H4Wi 1993
Originally published as Une sorcière dans la soupe
by Les éditions de la courte éhelle
Copyright © 1990 la courte échelle
Copyright © 1993 Second Story Press (English language edition)
Copyright © 1993 Sarah Cummins (English Translation)
Second Story Press gratefully acknowledges
the assistance of the Ontario Arts Council and the Canada Council
Printed and bound in Canada
Published by
SECOND STORY PRESS
760 Batburst Street
Toronto, Canada M5S 2R6
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
THE BLACK CAT
CHAPTER TWO
SUPPOSE IT WERE REAL?
CHAPTER THREE
LOST STREET
CHAPTER FOUR
SHARP CLAWS ON VELVET PAWS
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WITCH’S BREW
CHAPTER SIX
MY HEART IN MY THROAT
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHAT A STORY!
CHAPTER ONE
THE BLACK CAT
IT WAS ONE OF THE LAST glorious days of fall, almost as warm as summer. The kind of day that makes you think that maybe winter might pass us by Fat chance!
Anyway, I was at the park, sitting under a tree, reading a book called Witch’s Brew.
It was a hair-raising tale. I thought I would bite my fingernails all the way to my elbows.
I told myself, “Stop reading if you’re scared, Poppy,” but I couldn’t keep from reading on.
It was the story of a little girl about my age. She was sitting in the park, reading and minding her own business.
Just like me!
She was so wrapped up in her book that she never noticed that the weather was changing. Big grey clouds covered the sun. It got darker and darker.
One by one the people left the park, until there was no one left but the girl and the skeletons of trees. Their last leaves had fallen to the ground stiff and dead.
The only sounds were the sighs and moans of the wind. It sounded like the scary music in a horror film.
I got the feeling that something awful was about to happen. Especially since a black cat had started to prowl around the little girl.
I’ve got nothing against black cats. In fact, they’re my favourite kind. But this cat belonged to a witch …
Just then, I thought I heard a cat miaowing. Right away I told myself I was imagining it. No wonder, with the book I was reading! But then I heard another miaow. Quite clearly, this time.
Finally I found the cat. It was right next to me! And believe it or not, it was black from its ears to the tip of its tail.
What a coincidence! Anyway! I tried to chase it away by waving my arms around.
“Pssst! Go away, you horrid cat!”
The cat paid not the slightest attention to me. It sat straight and tall in the circle formed by its tail, which looked like the edge of a cape, a prince’s cape. The Prince of Black Cats. Anyway!
I figured I’d better get out of there before the witch showed up!
Honestly, Poppy. There are no witches in real life! At least, no witches with a big nose, a cleft chin, and long pointy shoes, like the one in my book.
And it would take more than a little pussy cat to scare me!
I squatted down and tried to get the cat to come to me.
“Here, kitty, nice kitty, here, kitty kitty … ”
It wouldn’t even look at me. It seemed to be waiting for someone.
Suddenly its ears pricked back. I caught my breath. Do you know what I saw right behind the cat?
A pair of big feet wearing old black high-top shoes with turned-up toes.
CHAPTER TWO
SUPPOSE IT WERE REAL?
I STAYED CROUCHED DOWN, not moving a muscle. I was in no hurry to discover what kind of… person was wearing those shoes.
All I could see was part of a very skinny body. It looked like a broom handle wrapped up in rags. An old handbag hung down beside the leg.
Suddenly a hand emerged from a pocket. It had long pointy fingernails. Help!
I jerked my head back so I wouldn’t get scratched. But the hand was just being stretched out to pet the cat. Whew!
Then, I heard a voice that sounded like an old scratchy record. “Hello, dearie. Would you like to play with my bat, my spider, my toad, my adder, my dear little rat, my darling crocodile?”
Usually I am quite fond of animals, but not those animals!
“Do you have them there with you in your bag? Yikes!”
The person burst out laughing. If you could call that sound laughter.
It reminded me of the sound my grandmother’s old metal clothesline on pulleys used to make. It set my teeth on edge.
Finally I dared to raise my eyes. Seeing was even worse than hearing. Speaking of teeth, she was missing several, right in front.
Her eyes looked like buttonholes with a big black button in the middle. A wart grew on her nose, which was long and bumpy like an old carrot.
She had a cleft chin and ears that stuck out like barn doors. Her hair was as straight and stiff as the straw in a broom … a witch’s broom.
And as if that weren’t enough, she wore a big battered pointy hat on her head.
I had never seen anyone so ugly in all my life. Brrrrrr! I was scared.
“Help!” I shouted.
Immediately she tried to hide her face behind the brim of her hat.
“Don’t be frightened, dear.”
I just wanted her to go away. But instead she took a step towards me. I couldn’t help shrieking in fright.
Two grown-ups who were walking by stopped and shouted, “Leave that girl alone. Can’t you see you’re frightening her? You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”
The old lady didn’t say anything. Her face, which looked like an old dry apple, seemed to grow even more wrinkly. It made her look even uglier. She bent her head under her big hat.
But the passersby wouldn’t leave her alone.
“Get out of here or we’ll call the police, you old ragbag!”
The old lady ran away.
I thought the grown-ups were being pretty mean to her. But still I was relieved that she had gone.
“You should go home too, little girl. You’ll catch cold.” And they went on their way.
I realized that it was getting colder. The sky was cloudy now. I shivered.
Fortunately, my mother had made me bring a warm sweater along, just in case.
As I was leaving, I noticed the black cat again. It hadn’t moved a whisker. It was staring at me!
That was strange…
Cats never stare at anyone. Unless they’re hunting and they’re staring at a mouse or a bird.
Or at a little girl, like in my book!
I tried to look away.
But it was too late. I couldn’t unlock my gaze. And when the cat decided to get up and leave, I couldn’t keep from following it.
CHAPTER THREE
LOST STREET
/> WHATEVER HAD GOTTEN into me? Following a cat! Really!
The cat kept turning its head back to make sure I was still following. Could it guess what I was thinking, or what?
I have never seen such an intelligent-looking cat!
Suppose it was trying to lure me into a trap? A trap set by a witch … a witch who was none other than the old lady?
Come on! Witches only exist in stories. Probably the black cat and the old lady didn’t even know each other!
Finally I came to a street comer. The sign said ‘Lost Street.’ What kind of a name was that?
I had never noticed that particular street before, even though I came this way often. Anyway!
The black cat walked purposefully on. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to go any further.
On either side of the street the tree skeletons stretched their twisted arms to the sky. At the end of the street was an old house that looked like it was haunted. Brrrr!
Finally I made up my mind to follow the cat. I could always turn back whenever I felt like it. But I have to admit that I didn’t feel very brave.
Just hearing the scritch! scritch! of fallen leaves underfoot made me jump. It was as if the leaves were alive and were whimpering in pain.
Then there was the cool, damp wind that chilled me to the bone.
But something stronger than myself just made me keep going.
What if I was under a spell? I couldn’t be. If I was, I would know. At least I thought so.
Soon I came to the front of the house. It seemed to be uninhabited. It was falling into ruins. Old shingles clattered against the roof. The shutters were closed.
The cat went straight to the door of a little shed huddled up against the back of the house.
I could see nothing through its tiny window, covered with heavy black cloth.
The sky was turning dark too. It seemed so close. Soon it will start to fall on my head, I thought. Better go home.
The cat didn’t seem any more courageous than I, as it uttered heart-rending miaows. Cats hate water. Everyone knows that.
Before heading home I tried to open the door of the shed so the cat could take shelter inside. But it was locked.
I couldn’t leave the poor cat alone outside when it was going to rain.
Then the door seemed to open by itself. As if by magic. It creaked on its hinges, naturally.
The cat stepped inside, paused, and turned to look at me. Then it raised one of its paws to the side of its head. It looked as if it was beckoning me to come.
No way was I going to go inside a strange house. Not on your life!
Even if not a creature was stirring inside … except a cat.
But then the rain started to fall like nails. I couldn’t resist going inside to stay dry.
I said to myself, “As soon as the storm is over, I’ll leave.”
Just then, the door slammed shut behind me. Bang!
CHAPTER FOUR
SHARP CLAWS ON VELVET PAWS
IT MUST HAVE BEEN the wind that slammed the door shut. But no matter how I pulled and twisted the knob in all directions, I couldn’t get it open again.
I was trapped! And inside it was as dark as a wolf’s den. What was going to happen to me?
Suddenly I noticed two eyes glowing in the dark. Like in a horror film, the eyes of a character with magical, evil powers …
But really it was only the eyes of the cat shining in the dark. Brrrr!
The cat sat so still that not a whisker twitched. I didn’t dare to move either. I stood stock still across from the cat, scared out of my mind.
The rain drummed on the roof of the shed and echoed inside my head, matching the rhythm of my frightened heartbeat.
Why wasn’t I reading this story in a book? Instead of living it. Then all I would have to do is close the book, and I wouldn’t be frightened anymore.
Slowly and silently the cat moved closer to me. Like a tiger. Or a panther. In any case, I stepped back.
I tried to call for help. But no sound came out of my mouth. Who would have heard me anyway?
Finally I was backed into a corner. I felt like a terrified little mouse caught in a trap.
The cat raised its paw towards me. Were its claws bared or not? It was too dark to tell. I threw my arms over my face to protect myself as best I could.
Its claws were sheathed. The cat placed its velvety paw against my cheek. It was so soft.
But what if the cat was trying to trick me?
I didn’t dare pet it back, since I was afraid it would scratch me. But it arched its back and snuggled against me. Just like I do when I cuddle with Mom or Dad. How I wished I were with them that very moment!
Suddenly I remembered that all cats’ eyes glow in the dark. It had nothing to do with magic. What a relief!
I was beginning to feel fond of the little ball of fur rubbing against me. The cat must have realized it, for it affectionately curled its tail around my ankles.
I petted it and tickled it between the ears. You should have heard it purr!
Suddenly the cat leapt to the other side of the room. It bared its claws and began to scratch at the door leading into the house.
Then I heard the voice of the wi… I mean, of the old lady from the park. I don’t know which! Anyway!
“I’m coming, don’t be so jumpy. There’s more than one way to skin a cat, you know.”
My blood froze in my veins.
Did she skin cats? Not even a witch would be mean enough to do that!
Imagine what she must do to kids … She probably boils them in a huge cauldron to make soup!
I never believed that witches exist in real life. But now, I had no choice. Put yourself in my shoes.
Finally the witch opened the door. It squeaked and creaked on its hinges, of course.
I just had time to move back into the shadows as a shaft of light from the doorway pierced the room.
“What’s the matter, my bat, my spider, my toad, my adder, my dear little rat, my darling crocodile?”
Were all those animals running around in there next to me? That was all I needed!
Suddenly I felt that one or maybe more of them was brushing against my leg, flitting through my hair, crawling up my arm …
I couldn’t stay there a second longer. I would rather come face to face with the witch. But I pulled back just in time, as I heard her say to the cat, “Are you still hungry? Come on, it’s ready. I’m just going to finish my magic mix.”
The cat dashed to the corner of the room where its dish was. Then I noticed an enormous cauldron in the middle of the room. It was bigger than a bathtub. And it was filled with a bubbling liquid that went blurp! blurp! blurp!
Before I could even wonder what she might be cooking up in a cauldron like that, the witch said, looking over her recipe, “I have all the ingredients. The only thing missing is a child.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE WITCH’S BREW
I HUDDLED BEHIND the half-open door. I couldn’t close it without letting the witch know I was there.
I didn’t dare cry out, for the same reason. Nobody would hear me except the witch.
I was lost … in this forsaken house at the end of Lost Street. I should have suspected something, with a name like that!
The cat had eaten up all its food. It jumped on to the closest table to watch its mistress the witch finish her cooking.
“Did you have enough to eat, my bat, my spider, my toad, my adder, my dear little rat, my darling crocodile?”
Those were the pet names the witch had for her cat! Not disgusting little creatures crawling all around me …
Whew! I felt a little better.
But that didn’t solve my problem. Any minute I might find myself in the wicked witch’s evil broth.
Then I would disappear by magic with a funny psssh! sound and a puff of blue smoke! Like all the other ingredients she was throwing in.
First she threw in a loofah mitt, muttering that it was used for rubbing you
r skin to make it smooth. Psssh! Then baby powder, to make you smell nice. Psssh!
Lemon juice, to tone the skin. Psssh! Vinegar and eggs to make your hair shine. Psssh!
Skates and a bicycle for keeping fit. Tea bags for soothing puffy eyes. Milk and toothpaste for keeping your teeth white and pearly. Pssssh!
Honey to soften the voice. Psssh! Fruit, vegetables, and fish for a healthy diet. Psssh! I’m probably forgetting some things, even weirder things. Anyway!
Then I heard the witch mutter, “It’s all there now. Except the last ingredient.”
I shivered, thinking the last ingredient might be me.
She climbed up onto the edge of the cauldron.
“Well, let’s give it a try. Maybe the last ingredient isn’t absolutely necessary. You never know.”
Was she going to dive in? Yuck! It made me sick just thinking about it.
The witch didn’t look like she found it very tempting either. She made a disgusted face.
“Well, if we must, we must! I want to be beautiful so much, I’m willing to do anything.”
She reminded me of my mother, when she’s smearing her face with this cream that looks exactly like bird poop.
Then she takes a bath in water full of salts and seaweed and some brown stuff that looks just like mud. Bleccch!
My mother does lots of stuff like that to be beautiful, but she would never go so far as to sacrifice a little girl! Anyway!
The witch closed her eyes and muttered a magic spell:
“By all the tears in a witch’s heart,
Let the transformation start!
Tureen of magic mystery,
Let me now a beauty be!”
She took a deep breath, held her nose, and dived head first into the bubbling broth. Splish! Splash!
If only the wicked witch could disappear by magic, with a little psssh! and a puff of blue smoke. Then I would be safe.
No such luck! Others might disappear, but not her. I was afraid I might disappear too, if she found me.
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