Witch Baby and Me At School

by Debi Gliori

  ‘Dear lady, at least allow me to drive you home, yes? You cannot possibly walk home barefoot through deep snow.’

  He has a point there. The Chin looks down at her feet: one is clad in leaky leather; the other bare, white and, she realizes with a howl of terror, in full possession of seven toes.*23

  Ooooops. Time to go home before anyone notices. Mr Harukashi is too busy gazing into the Chin’s eyes to notice her extra toes, and besides, he has a very comfortable car. In truth, the Chin is cold, wet and feeling rather sorry for herself. A lift home would be very welcome, and if Arkon House is surrounded by police, she will let Mr Harukashi get out of his car first, and then she will steal it to make a getaway. With a girly little sigh, the Chin tucks her arm into that of MrHarukashi, and together they pick their way through the snow to his waiting car.

  ‘But aren’t you pleased?’ the Toad asks, passing a steaming cup of hot nettle soup across to her sneezing sister.

  The Nose, no longer magically disguised as Miss Chin, is immersed up to her own vast nostrils in a hot bath. She’s trying to thaw herself out after taking a short cut home from school that plunged her up to her eyebrows in a snowdrift.

  ‘Pleas-aaa-aahhh-ker-CHOOO-pleased?’ she gasps. ‘Pleased about wha-aaah-ahhh-choo-what?’

  The Toad rolls her big yellow eyes. ‘Pleased that our dear little Witch Baby isn’t becoming too human,’ she continues. ‘Pleased that you don’t have to go to school any more. Pleased that our dear baby appears to be a very wicked witch indeed.’

  At this, the Nose snorts, causing two huge ripples to run across the surface of the bathwater. PFFFffffFF. It was only a little snow spell,’ she hisses, secretly furious that a witch as old and as experienced as her could possibly have been out-spelled by a mere Witch Baby.

  ‘A little snow spell?’ the Toad croaks, aghast. ‘How can you say that? Our house is practically buried in snow. You fell into a snowdrift that was taller than you are. It was an enormous snow spell. If one of us had cast it, we’d still be celebrating.’

  ‘Harrrrumph,’ says the Nose, but she knows the Toad is right. Witch Baby is shaping up to be a very, very wicked witch indeed. However, far from being delighted that she is doing so well, the Nose is feeling very worried. What if the little girl becomes so big and powerful that she ends up stronger that the three Sisters of Hiss put together? When it’s time to take her away from her human family and teach her how to become a Proper Hiss, what if she doesn’t want to leave?

  What then?

  Downstairs, the front door slams. The Chin is home. The sound of Mr Harukashi’s car driving away fades into silence. Upstairs, the Nose pulls out the plug and gets up to find a towel. The Toad hops down to greet the Chin, wondering if her trip to the library was a success. She finds her sister sitting at the dining table, riffling through a huge book of spells. On the Chin’s lap is the postman-cat and, on the table, dropping poo all over the place, is Miss McPhee, still a sparrow, but hopefully, if all goes well, not a sparrow for much longer. Mercifully, the Chin made it home without being arrested, so she is about to keep her promise to restore the cat and the sparrow to human form.

  The Toad frowns. It doesn’t look as if the Chin has had a successful day. She doesn’t seem to have made any money whatsoever. There’s a distinct lack of sacks marked SWAG, suitcases of banknotes or even little velvet drawstring bags of uncut diamonds. The Toad’s frown deepens. It’s beginning to look like they’ll be dining on rats and nettles for a long time yet. Honestly, the Toad thinks, if I’d been the one sent out to make money, we’d be up to our eyeballs in gold by now. But she knows better than to breathe so much as a word of complaint against her sisters. When you’re as small as the Toad, you learn to keep your thoughts to yourself and secretly cook up a spell to multiply the contents of the sisters of Hiss’s bank account one thousand times. One thousand times their last fourteen pounds and twenty-two pence ought to be enough to buy a pizza or two. Her warty lips hardly moving as she multiplies inside her head, the Toad meekly hops into the kitchen and gets on with it.

  Nineteen:

  Finally, spotless

  By lunch time, the playground is transformed. We all helped Craig and Shane to build their igloo - even Mrs McDonald and Mr Fox, the janitor. With every single one of us making snow bricks in ice-cream tubs, we were able to make an amazing igloo. It’s enormous; big enough for us all to sit inside comfortably. When Craig carefully put the last brick in place in the roof, we all cheered. Mrs McDonald took loads of photographs because she said nobody would believe that we’d had snow in September. Then we all crawled inside and imagined what it must be like to live in an igloo instead of a house.

  ‘Freezing,’ moaned Shane. ‘And there’s nowhere to plug in your TV.’

  ‘Daddy says our house is as cold as an igloo,’ Annabel admitted, adding, ‘He’s wrong. Our house is much colder. In the winter, our toothbrushes freeze.’*24

  ‘Well, I really like it in here,’ said Craig. ‘I’m not going home. I want to live here for ever.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Shane. ‘It’ll all be melted by tomorrow.’

  At this, we all fell silent. The igloo had taken us all so long to make that we hadn’t had any time to really play in it yet. Nobody wanted it to melt.

  ‘It’s always horrible when snowmen melt,’ Jamie said, blowing into his cupped hands to warm them up. ‘When all that’s left of them the next day is a couple of bits of coal and a carrot…’

  ‘And a scarf,’ said Yoshito.

  ‘And their smile,’ I said.

  ‘Whatever are you talking about?’ demanded Annabel. ‘How can a snowman leave its smile behind?’

  I was about to explain that in our family, when we make a snowman, we always give it a smile made out of little pebbles, but Yoshito got in first.

  ‘Snowmen leave their smiles with us when they melt,’ she said. ‘I can see the smile on all our faces. We’ve all got one. Look at us. We are all smiling.’

  And she’s right. Here we are, sitting inside the igloo that we built because we all worked together. We haven’t had any fights, we’ve looked after the little ones, we’ve had a great day, and now, at the end of it, we’re all smiling from ear to ear. The only thing missing is Vivaldi. All of a sudden I feel bad for having such a good time when she’s been stuck inside. Poor Vivaldi.

  I look at Daisy and an idea begins to form inside my mind. I have no idea how strong Daisy’s spells are, but I think I’m about to find out. I crawl across the snow to where she’s sitting and squat down beside her.

  ‘Daze …’ I whisper in her ear.

  Tickly no, no, toppit, Lillil,’ she squeaks, pushing me away.

  ‘Sorry, Daisy. Erm, you know how Vivaldi isn’t at school today?’

  Daisy is silent, poking her index finger into the snow between her knees. Poke, poke, poke, she goes, making little dots in the snow. I carry on.

  ‘Poor Vivaldi is stuck at home with spots. Poor her. She can’t come out to play with us because of those horrible spots.’

  Daisy looks up at me, and for one second I catch a glimpse of something dazzlingly bright in her eyes. Then she sighs and pokes at the snow again. ‘What you want, Lillil?’

  Well. I can take a hint. Do get to the point, Lily.

  ‘I need you to make Vivaldi’s spots go away, Daisy. Could you do that? Please?’

  Daisy ignores me, but a little shiver goes down my spine when I see what she’s busy doing. The snow between her feet is pitted with dots where she’s been poking it with her fingers, but now she’s humming to herself as she smoothes it out with the palm of her hand. And once it’s perfectly smooth, I see that she’s drawn a circle on the outside. A circle that looks a bit like a face.

  ‘Thank you, Daisy,’ I whisper. Woo-hooo. That Witch Baby. Don’t mess with her.

  Outside, the bell starts to ring and it’s time to go home. For the very first time since I came to this school, I really, really don’t want to go.

 
‘See you tomorrow, pal.’ Craig whacks me on the shoulder in a friendly way and runs off across the playground.

  ‘The snowman gave you the best smile,’ Yoshito says, waving goodbye.

  We walk across the playground shivering because it was actually warm inside our igloo. Shane is walking beside me.

  ‘That was just the coolest fun ever, eh, Lily?’ he says, turning back to look at the igloo. He gives the air a couple of punches like a footballer who’s scored a goal. ‘Aw, that was just magic.’

  He’s right. It was. Magic, in every way.

  Back home, there’s a set of smallish footprints leading across the snow from our gate to the front doorstep and back. When Mum opens the door, there’s a note lying on the doormat. Before I can pick it up, Daisy grabs it and runs away, cackling to herself.

  ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ Mum sighs. ‘You can’t read yet, silly.’

  Daisy gives Mum the stare of Doom and peers at the note in her hand. ‘Not silly. Daisy reddit now.’

  I make a grab for the note but Daisy’s too quick. She runs into the kitchen and hides under the table. When she does stuff like this, I want to scream. She may have done the most amazing snow spell in the whole wide world, but right now she’s just my very, very annoying pesky little sister.

  ‘Oh, come on then,’ I groan. ‘You win, Daze. You read it to us. What does it say?’

  Daisy beams and looks up at me. ‘Daisy says spots all gone ‘way—’ But whatever she was about to say next is lost for all time because she’s just caught sight of what Mum’s been baking today.

  WOW. What an incredible cake. It’s enormous, covered in snowy white icing and decorated with leaves made of dark chocolate. It’s absolutely beautiful. Mum looks slightly embarrassed.

  ‘I got a bit carried away,’ she says. ‘I mean, it’s not as if it’s anyone’s birthday or anything …’

  Daisy’s eyes are wide with wonder. ‘Ooooooh,’ she breathes, gazing at the cake in awe. ‘Ooooh, Mumma. Wantit. Wantit now, bigbit.’

  ‘It’s an un-birthday cake,’ I decide, picking up the note which Daisy has completely forgotten about since catching sight of The Cake. I unfold it:

  Dear Lil (it says), My spots suddenly fell off*25 and Mum says I’m better now so-please come for supper tonight. Can’t wait 2CU. Lots of love, your friend, Vivaldi

  *26 I’m not kidding!

  P.S. Mum’s making pizza.

  P.P.S. I know the most amazing hill

  for sledging

  I look up. Vivaldi’s spots fell off? I want to hug Daisy and tell the whole world what a wee star she is, but she has her face buried in a colossal slab of Mum’s un-birthday cake. Even I know better than to disturb her right now. Her eyes are closed in utter bliss. I know just how she feels. Today has been the best of fun, there’s cake and soon I’m going to my best friend’s house for tea. I feel so happy, I think I might be in danger of exploding.

  So I do the next best thing. Down go my hands, up go my feet and I turn three cartwheels down the hall. Taaa-daaa!

  ‘Lily, for heaven’s sake,’ Mum groans.

  ‘Blue,’ mutters Daisy, but I can tell she’s not really paying attention because today my pants are pink.

  Later that afternoon, Vivaldi and I are walking back to her house for supper, taking it in turns to drag the sledge behind us.

  ‘… and then my spots fell off and dropped onto the page I was reading …’ Vivaldi groans. ‘It was disgusting. I had to flush them down the loo. Eeeeurrrch. right, it’s your turn.’

  I take the rope out of her hand and follow her up the hill. It’s very steep, and brilliant for sledging, but not so brilliant for hauling the sledge back up again.

  ‘Isn’t this just the most amazing snow, though?’ I gasp, stopping to catch my breath and look out over the white fields. ‘You have to admit, Daisy is pretty impressive.’

  ‘How come her snow spell is still working?’ Vivaldi asks, her breath making icy clouds in front of her mouth.

  ‘I have no idea.’ I’d been wondering the same thing. It’s been her longest spell yet. ‘But,’ I add, ‘I’m positive she’s becoming more powerful - she kept the snow spell going and made your spots fall off. That’s two spells at once. It’s hardly surprising that WayWoof’s been gone all day.’

  ‘I love WayWoof,’ says Vivaldi. ‘I wish I had a dog like her. If she ever has puppies, can I have one?’

  ‘Promise,’ I say, imagining a litter of tiny, stinky, occasionally invisible puppies. Wow. How weird would that be? But right now I’d give anything to have WayWoof with us. It’s getting dark, and although I’m not in the least bit scared, there’s something deeply comforting about the company of a dog, even an invisible one.

  We walk past the amazing round house where Yoshito lives with her dad. The twilight sky is reflected in their fish-shaped pool and it looks like something out of a film or a magazine, but I don’t think I’d like to live there much. I prefer our scruffy garden with its hiding places and trees to climb. We walk on, past Mishnish Castle, where bossy Jamie and smelly Annabel live. At least, I think that’s where they live, but I can’t see a castle or even a house up there; only a long road which winds past lawns and disappears into trees. It must be an amazing house, though, because Annabel’s always going on and on about it.

  Then, without saying anything, Vivaldi and I both start walking very fast. It seems to have got a lot darker, although the setting sun is still blazing through the trees. We’re almost at the gates of Arkon House now and I can see that Vivaldi is as nervous as I am. This is because Arkon House is rumoured to be haunted. It certainly looks as if it might be. It’s got ruined turrets, loads of dark, dark windows, a massive front door and a really creepy swimming pool full of rotting leaves. If I had to describe it in one word, the word would be ‘Yyyyyyeeeearggggghhhhh’.

  Vivaldi grabs my arm. ‘Look,’ she whispers. ‘The front door’s opening …’

  She’s right. It is. Suddenly I know that I don’t want to hear the eeeecreeeak of the door’s hinges or see who or what is about to come out from behind it.

  At least, not now. I look at Vivaldi. I can see that she’s just like me: half curious to find out if Arkon House really is haunted, and half terrified in case it is. Then, in the deepening silence, my tummy gives a loud rumble and the front door of Arkon House slams shut. Time for supper.

  ‘Race you back home,’ Vivaldi says, and we flee through the woods towards the setting sun.

  Twenty:

  Another story

  ‘It hasn’t worked,’ complains the Nose, glaring at the sparrow and the cat, who are stubbornly refusing to be changed back into their human forms.

  ‘Miayowly, yowl,’ agrees the cat.

  The sparrow rolls her beady eyes and ejects a pellet of bird poo. This is her way of showing just how fed up she is with the Hisses.

  ‘It has worked,’ mutters the Chin. ‘It just happens to be a slow spell. It takes a long time to undo what was done in haste. The spell has to start from the inside and work its way out. First of all it has to wipe their memories …’

  ‘Mao? Yee? Howl?’ the postman bleats, utterly confused as the spell begins to take effect. What is he? he wonders. A bird? A man? An envelope?

  ‘Baa, squeak, Woof,’ adds the sparrow, falling over sideways.

  ‘… and then,’ continues the Chin, ‘we’ll have to put them back where we found them. I’ve worked it all out. We’ve got just enough time if we get a move on. They won’t return to their human form until dawn and—’

  ‘Hang on,’ interrupts the Toad. ‘We can’t dump the cat - sorry, the postman, where we found him. That would mean leaving him on our own doorstep. And that would be a very bad idea, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Why don’t we just deposit him back at his post office then?’ suggests the Nose, adding, And we can drop the teacher-sparrow off in the staffroom at the school.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ says the Chin. ‘That way, when they wake up, they’ll both assume t
hey’ve fallen asleep at work.’

  ‘But … nobody else will think that,’ the Toad mutters.

  ‘Who cares what anybody else thinks?’ snaps the Nose. ‘The point is to get rid of them without being found out. This way nobody will connect their reappearance with us, and as long as they don’t remember what happened to them, everything will be all right. And,’ she adds happily, ‘I’ll never, ever have to be a teacher again, and nor will you, Chin dear.’

  ‘I’ll get the broomsticks,’ says the Toad, delighted at the prospect of a night-flight. ‘Oooh, it’s been ages since we did anything like this …’ she heads for the broom cupboard while the Chin pounces on the sparrow and the Nose grabs the cat.

  Fur and feathers fly everywhere. The cat and the sparrow don’t understand why they have to be tied up, but the Nose and the Chin understand all too well. If, by some awful twist of fate, they didn’t make it to the post office and the school by the dawn deadline, the cat and the sparrow would still return to their human forms. In mid-flight. The idea of trying to steer a broomstick with a struggling human on board is enough to throw all three Hisses into a panic.

  Several metres of string, many muttered oaths and a few carrier bags later, they’re ready to go. The Nose has a nasty scratch across her left hand and the Chin is speckled with sparrow poo, but the cat and the sparrow are trussed up with string and wrapped in carrier bags with only their heads poking out. The Toad opens the front door and the three sisters head out into the sunset with their unwilling passengers firmly tied to their broomsticks.

  ‘What d’you say we pick up a takeaway pizza on the way home?’ suggests the Toad, hopping onto the Chin’s broomstick.