The Witch

by Mary Ann Mitchell

  Cold embraced him. Momma’s cold arms. Her frigid lips touched his cheek, and he wanted her to sing to him again.

  This wasn’t his father. The man didn’t have the same features, the same unmarred flesh. No, this is a stranger. A man who broke into the house. Dad hadn’t come home yet.

  Stephen decided to wait in his room until Dad came home. He stood with the support of death, the cold numbing his body and his heart. But then he saw the dwarf peek out from behind the furnace. The galling smile plastered on the ugly dwarf made Stephen’s insides turn. Leaning on his little ax the dwarf seemed cocky.

  “Come upstairs,” Grannie Smith demanded. “We have to call for help.” She dragged the boy several feet but couldn’t get him to climb the stairs. Giving up, she let go of his arm and ran up the cellar stairs.

  “Why aren’t you on the box?” Stephen asked the dwarf.

  “What? You forget that it is night. I run free at night. Thank you,” The dwarf offered Stephen a gracious bow.

  Two warm arms circled the boy’s body.

  “An ambulance is coming. We can’t do anything here. Come upstairs. You don’t want to be in their way when they come for your father.”

  “He’s not my father. I’d never let this happen to my father.”

  “It’s not your fault, Stephen. The house is too hot. There must have been something wrong with the furnace. It was an accident.”

  The dwarf dramatically mouthed along with Grannie Smith’s words and finally did a little jig.

  “Daddy won’t like this when he gets home from work,” Stephen said.

  “Come upstairs, please. Your grandmother should be here soon.”

  “It smells bad here. Grandma won’t like it. She’ll blame me and Daddy. It’s my fault, not Daddy’s.” Stephen looked up into his babysitter’s eyes. He saw tears. They rolled down her chubby cheeks, cutting into the lines and wrinkles. He reached up to her face to wipe away the tears and wrinkles, but they kept coming back. He looked back down at the stranger lying on the floor. The man’s blackened hands twitched, the fingers playing silent music on the air. A soot-covered ring had become enmeshed in the flesh. Daddy’s ring? The man stole Daddy’s ring?

  Grannie Smith picked Stephen up and slowly climbed the stairs, the weight of the boy causing her to grab the banister to keep her balance.

  “Momma? Why?” Stephen thought he had whispered the words, but Grannie Smith’s shoulders rose with the sound of his voice.

  “Shhh! Grandma will be here soon.” She patted his back, her warm hand breaking the chill of his mother’s kiss.

  Chapter

  41

  After the ambulance left the house Stephen turned to his grandmother and asked when his father would be coming home. She had no answer to give and crushed him closely to her breasts. She carried him up to his bedroom and left a small light lit in case he should awaken during the night. The firemen had declared the house safe. They found no cause for the fire. Perhaps the man would survive and could be questioned as to what happened.

  Stephen hadn’t wanted to leave the house, and Grandma decided she’d make do with what little she had with her and stay in the guest bedroom.

  Stephen had his eyes tightly shut when Grandma looked in on him.

  “Stephen,” she whispered but he didn’t answer. As soon as she left Stephen opened his eyes and searched the room for the shade of his mother. He knew she didn’t like the light, and he reached over to shut off the switch.

  Blackness filled the room until his eyes gradually adjusted.

  “Momma, something bad happened.” He listened for her voice.

  “Momma, some man got hurt in our house.”

  He felt the cold arms and the still, cold feel of his mother’s breasts as she pulled him close.

  “Momma, who was that man?”

  Her frozen lips softened enough to form a kiss on his brow.

  “I’m here, Stephen. I won’t leave you. I’ll always be here with you.”

  “The man … Do you know him?”

  “He cheated.”

  “Does that make him a bad man?”

  “That makes him a liar. He’ll never be tempted to lie again.”

  “Because you taught him a lesson?”

  “There will be no opportunities for him to lie. Who will want to look at him? His words will be as distorted as his lips and face. He’ll inspire pity instead of lust.”

  “Where’s Daddy?” The boy’s voice quivered with the cold and the fear that enveloped him.

  “You know where Daddy is, Stephen. You saw Daddy yourself.”

  “In the basement?”

  “Yes.”

  “That man wasn’t Daddy. He didn’t look like Daddy.”

  “He’ll look different now. Be kind to him. Don’t let him know that you find him frightening to look at.”

  “I’ll never be scared of Daddy.”

  “Yes, be brave, Stephen. I want a strong little boy who can aid me.”

  “But Daddy …”

  His mother silenced him with a kiss that filled his mouth with a fetid poison as he breathed in the augur of death.

  Chapter

  42

  Mabel paid the cab driver in change. She had found a large jar of quarters, dimes, and nickels in the utility room of her son-in-law’s house. What a waste, she thought. The jar had been overflowing with coins. Some had probably fallen behind the washer and drier, never to be seen again. At least she’d put them to good use. However, the cab driver didn’t seem to agree with her plan. He grunted as she slowly counted out the exact amount of the fare. Since he had shone no patience, she kept the tip to the bare minimum.

  “I hope you got someone to pick you up, lady,” were the cab driver’s parting words.

  Shaking her head, she walked to the front entrance of the hospital. Over the telephone the doctors had informed her Jacob was stable. There were burns over seventy-five percent of his body. She shivered thinking about it. They’d pumped him full of drugs to alleviate the pain, and he might not make much sense when he talked, but the doctors thought he should have a family visitor.

  Jacob had no local family. Both his parents were deceased, and his sister lived in Australia. Mabel didn’t know how to reach the sister and hadn’t wanted to go through his address book without his permission. He had never been close to any of his other relatives, and he acted disdainful of them.

  The doors automatically opened for her, and she entered a busy lobby. Several visitors carried bunches or baskets of flowers. Should she have brought some? Would he notice whether she had or not?

  At the reception desk she had to wait several minutes while a volunteer helped an elderly patient into a wheelchair. The volunteer placed a hospital green blanket over the patient’s knees and turned to help Mabel.

  “Sorry, the regular receptionist had to potty. Can I help you? “

  “I’m looking for Jacob Zaira.”

  The volunteer, a man of about sixty, plopped himself down in front of the computer.

  “Let’s see if I can get this right,” he said, tapping the board lightly with his fingers. “Last time I sent someone off to the wrong room and well … you don’t want to hear the names that visitor called me.”

  “I promise to be more understanding,” she said.

  He smiled up at her and returned to his tapping.

  “Here it is. Zaira, Jacob.”

  “That’s him. He had an accident.”

  “Must have been pretty bad. He’s in the burn unit, intensive care. Got a good doctor watching over him, though.”

  “I’ve spoken to several. I’m not sure which is his primary doctor.”

  “Dr. Stall. Been here for twenty-five years.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “This your son?”

  “Son-in-law.”

  “I wish him the best and you too. He’s in room 110. It’s a private room.”

  “Thank you. Which way do I go?”

  The voluntee
r gave her directions, but Mabel had a hard time following them. She tried to follow the yellow arrows, but they disappeared somewhere between the elevator bank and the nurses’ station.

  “Excuse me.”

  A nurse dropped the clipboard she was holding on the desk.

  “I’m looking for room 110.”

  “Are you a relative?”

  “Mother-in-law.”

  The nurse smiled.

  “Does that count? I hope no one lets my mother-in-law in to see me if ever I’m in intensive care. Just joking.”

  Mabel gave the nurse a weak smile.

  “Two doors down on the right. He’s groggy and goes in and out of sleep, so don’t stay too long. By the way, you’ll have to put sterile garments over your street clothes.”

  Mabel wanted to run out of the hospital. What to say to him? Talk about Stephen, she reminded herself. As long as she talked about Stephen, she wouldn’t have to worry about what to say.

  “Are you all right?” the nurse asked.

  “Just trying to get my courage up,” Mabel replied.

  “He’ll appreciate your visit. I’m sorry I said what I said before.”

  Once Mabel was gowned and gloved the nurse added a puffy green paper cap to cover Mabel’s hair and helped to slip a mask over Mabel’s face. Mabel nodded a thank you to the nurse and walked down the corridor as if she were going to the electric chair. She opened the door to the room and felt intense heat. The temperature had to be in the nineties. A curtain hid part of the bed. As she walked around the curtain she saw lamps placed around the bed; the intense heat of the bulbs was directed at the bandaged form lying still on the mattress. Over the phone a doctor had indicated they were trying to stabilize his body temperature. Bandages wrapped his face, hands, and arms. Edema made him look uncharacteristically pudgy.

  She leaned over Jacob, and the smell of burnt flesh turned her stomach.

  “Mabel.”

  Her name sounded distorted, and she noticed that his lips were not whole.

  “Jacob.” She didn’t ask how he was because it wasn’t necessary. “Stephen has been praying for you.”

  “Is he staying with you?”

  “Yes. Actually, today I sent him over to Grannie Smith. I didn’t think he’d be up for school. I thought a day or two at home might help him …” Help him what? The words weren’t coming easily.

  “You took him by cab?” He winced as he turned his head to see her better.

  “Cab? Oh, no. I’m staying at your house; I didn’t want to upset him by taking him away from his home.”

  Jacob’s eyes grew wider and his breath seemed to falter. He tried to talk, but the pain grew worse with the effort.

  “Relax, Jacob. Should I call the nurse?”

  “Mabel.”

  “Yes.” She leaned closer to hear him, all the while feeling she might faint.

  “Take him out of the house.”

  “He’s at Grannie Smith’s now, I told you.”

  He moaned and shut his eyes tightly.

  “Stephen will be fine. I’ll tell him I talked to you. He’s worried that you might not come home. But I told him you would.”

  Was it a lie? She hoped to God it wasn’t.

  “Mabel, I want him to stay at your house.”

  “He doesn’t seem to want to leave his home. I can’t drag him off to my house.”

  “Drag him, Mabel. I beg you, drag him kicking and screaming.” Jacob tried to raise his head. He appeared to black out for a few seconds.

  “All right, Jacob. I’ll do what you say.”

  “Don’t humor me. Do it.”

  “Oh, Jacob, all of this is so horrible. I don’t know how the child can stand it. What did happen with the furnace?”

  Jacob closed his eyes, and Mabel thought he had fallen asleep until he spoke.

  “Demons, Mabel.”

  “Demons?”

  “Cathy’s demons. She sent them after me.”

  “Jacob, you know that isn’t true. The doctors said there might have been some alcohol involved. Had you been drinking?”

  Jacob opened his eyes and raised his right hand as if to grab hold of Mabel.

  “I want Stephen out of that damn house. I want him cut off from his mother’s influence.”

  “He loved Cathy.”

  “I wish she had loved him.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say. No one loved him more than Cathy did. She’d do anything for him.”

  “Including killing herself?”

  Mabel worried her bottom lip. There was no answer to Jacob’s question.

  “I’m going now, Jacob. I didn’t come here to upset you. I want to help. May I come back tomorrow?”

  “Please. I do nothing but sleep, count the hours to my next dose of medications, and stare up at the ceiling. The lights are so strong. The lamps give me a headache.”

  “They don’t want you to go into shock. They’re trying to keep you warm.”

  He acknowledged her words with a slight nod of his head.

  “Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”

  “Someone. Stephen.”

  “The doctors won’t let him see you. Visitors have to be at least thirteen. They’re afraid he’ll bring in some germs. I don’t know. I’ll keep trying to talk them into letting me bring the boy.”

  “Then I can expect to see Stephen soon.” The raw meat of his lips could almost form a smile.

  “At least I’ll be here tomorrow.” She took a deep breath, held it, and leaned over to gently kiss his bandaged cheek.

  Chapter

  43

  Jacob lay on his hospital bed envisioning little demons sliding up and down the curtains. Remembering the balls of fire coming at him and the smell of the rum.

  Is this what you wanted, Cathy? But why use our son?

  Every emotion swept over his body in waves of pain that attacked every nerve ending. He couldn’t find peace even in his sleep.

  The visit from Mabel had been a brief respite from the smell of hospital antiseptics and burnt flesh. She wore her favorite perfume. The one he used to hate. Now he tried to keep the smell alive to hide the rude hospital odors.

  Would Mabel listen to him and take Stephen out of the house? What could he say? Quick, take him out of the house before the little demons get him.

  “How are we feeling?” asked a volunteer.

  “You’re feeling better than I, I’m sure.”

  The volunteer nodded.

  “Do you need anything?”

  “A new sheath of skin.”

  “The nurse will be coming in with your medication in about fifteen minutes. You’ll be able to sleep then.”

  The volunteer fussed around his bed. He couldn’t be certain what the woman thought she accomplished. She placed the call button closer to his hand.

  “Would you like me to read to you until the nurse comes?”

  “Do you know the story of Brandy and the witch?”

  “Is that a fairy tale I missed while growing up?”

  Jacob swallowed hard several times before he could speak again.

  “Brandy is being held prisoner by the witch. She’s a kindhearted witch. All she did was put Brandy in a cage. Some witches are viler. Some …” He stopped. Tears came to his eyes, and the pain shot through every nerve ending of his body.

  “Maybe I can get the nurse to come in sooner. Hold on.”

  The volunteer vanished. Only the pain shared Jacob’s room.

  He looked toward the window and saw the shadings of the end of the day. Yesterday at this time he had been whole. Tonight he was supposed to have taken Stephen trick or treating in the pirate costume. And the rum should have been dumped down the sink.

  The pain clung to his body, slowly hugging the life out of him. He panted for air. Against the bed curtain he saw the shadow of his hands waving, clutching for life.

  Stephen, I love you. I would have never touched Molly had I known what would happen. I love you so much.
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  His heart pounded to the beat of the pain. He wanted to crumble into a fetal position, but the pain wouldn’t let him. The bandages tightened against his skin.

  A nurse’s hands began to change the IV bag beside his bed.

  “Mr. Zaira. I’m changing the bag. You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

  She kept droning and he fled to a dark world.

  Chapter

  44

  Stephen’s head turned to his right when he noticed the red brick buildings of the hospital. Men and women dressed in white lab coats and jeans circulated on the lawn. An ambulance sat at the street curb with paramedics standing to the side, talking. He tried to get Grannie Smith to stop the car, but she didn’t hear very well today because the battery was out on her hearing aid. The battery was one of the items on the long list she had made before starting out.

  They had just passed the hospital when Grannie Smith had to stop for a red light.

  “Grannie, I need to go to the bathroom. Can we stop here?” he shouted.

  “Bathroom?”

  “I really have to go. The hospital must have a bathroom.”

  “Can you hold it ‘til we get home? We only have one more stop to make, and then we can return to home base.”

  “No, Grannie Smith, I gotta go now.” Stephen bounced up and down in his seat.

  “All right. There’s a McDonald’s up ahead …”

  “No! The hospital has cleaner bathrooms.”

  “Stephen, the doctors won’t allow you to see your father right now.”

  “No! I need to go,” he yelled, screwing his face into a pained expression.

  “Okay.”

  When the light turned green, Grannie Smith made a U-turn and pulled into the lane leading to the hospital driveway. She had to wait a minute for the oncoming traffic to clear before turning.

  Stephen clutched his hands together and his breath almost stopped. He sunk back into his seat while Grannie Smith pulled into the parking lot.

  “Let’s not take too long, Stephen. Your grandmother will be wondering where we’ve gone, and I don’t want her worrying about you.”

  Grannie Smith helped Stephen out of the car. Immediately he headed for the front doors. She had to call out to him to wait for her while she locked the car.