A Witch to Live

by Glenn Bullion

  “Ah, Kristin.” She smiled at the surprise on their faces. “I've been watching you for a while.”

  “A witch,” Kevin repeated. The word sounded strange leaving his mouth. “What does that really mean?”

  “It means you have more tools than just water.” She waved her hands in the air, dismissing what she said. She was an animated woman. “The easiest thing to do is just show you. Are you up for a ride? We can take my car.”

  Kevin and Rachel looked at each other. She gave him a smile and shrugged.

  “Sure,” Kevin said.

  Martha smiled at them. They made a cute couple.

  “First things first,” she said, and grabbed her purse from the kitchen. “There are a few things every witch should carry with them. Can you guess the first one?”

  “Water,” Kevin said with a smile.

  She pointed at him. “Bingo. Here's some more.”

  He looked at the odd collection of items she put on the dining room table.

  A key, flashlight, several packets of sugar, a pair of reading glasses, a rock, and a magic marker.

  Kevin and Rachel both shared a look. He reached out and grabbed a packet of sugar.

  “You'd be surprised how much magic you can get out of sugar,” Martha said.

  “No cell phone?” Rachel joked.

  “You kids and your cell phones. But you've got the right idea. Communication.” She picked up the rock. “That's what this is for.”

  “It's a rock,” Kevin said.

  “I can see you're college bound. Some of our magic is very complicated, while some is very simple. You can't get any simpler than this,” she said, with a toss and catch of the rock.

  “What's it do?”

  “This is mine. Every witch should have their own. I'll be right back.”

  She opened a door in the corner leading to the basement. Kevin waited for her footsteps to quiet down before leaning close to Rachel.

  “This is crazy.”

  Rachel shrugged. “She seems nice. She likes cats.”

  “I'm...not sure I want to be a witch.”

  “You're doing fine.”

  He smiled, glad Rachel was with him.

  Martha emerged from the basement holding two polished rocks.

  “Are you ready to learn a new trick?”

  He stood up from the table, took a deep breath, and took both rocks she offered.

  “Touch them both together. Concentrate.”

  “On what?”

  “I don't know. Whatever means communication to you. Think about a phone. Or talking to your girlfriend here.”

  Nothing happened for a few seconds. He closed his eyes and tried to picture a phone in his head.

  Rachel gasped.

  He opened his eyes to see the rocks glowing in his hands, and almost dropped them.

  Then the glow was gone.

  “See?” Martha said. “That's it. Nothing to get all nervous and scared about. This is what witches do. Give one to Rachel.”

  Kevin laughed. “Most guys give their ladies flowers. I'm giving mine a magical rock.”

  Rachel smiled at him and accepted the rock. She hugged it to her face, as if it were a precious gift. He loved her sense of humor. Everyone laughed.

  “I've just done you a favor,” Martha said to Rachel. “Your boyfriend won't be able to say he missed your call anymore, like my ex-husband used to do all the time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Go in the other room.”

  Rachel walked into the living room near the front door.

  “Picture Rachel in your head,” Martha said. “And talk into the rock.”

  “You're serious?”

  She nodded.

  Shaking his head, he put the rock to his mouth.

  “Uh, hello? Rachel?”

  Her voice emerged, like it was a speaker.

  “Kevin? You've gotta be kidding me.”

  Kevin laughed as Rachel rejoined them in the dining room. He wasn't sure if he was laughing at how cool the magical rock was, or how absurd.

  “What good does this do if everyone has cell phones now?”

  Martha shook her head. “You have no imagination. You'll learn, over time. That's a magic powered two-way radio with unlimited range. Your parents had rings made out of quartz, and did that same spell, so they could always be close to one another. I thought it was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen. You can do that with any type of rock, as many times as you want. Give one to all your friends, although that probably isn't very smart.”

  “Yeah, I know. Low profile.”

  She smiled. “You're getting it now. Anyway, it has a bunch of other uses that I'm hoping you'll never have to find out.”

  He looked at the other items on the table. Martha laughed and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “In time. We won't rush. Are you ready for a ride?”

  They followed Martha through the house and stood on her lawn while she locked the front door.

  The older witch stopped when she looked across the street and saw the Mustang.

  “Is that your car?”

  “It's mine,” Rachel said.

  “Actually, my car is a little messy. I think I'm low on gas, too. Maybe we should take yours.”

  Kevin and Rachel laughed.

  Chapter 15

  Rachel drove as Martha gave directions from the back seat. Martha danced and waved her arms around at the music Rachel played. Kevin looked at her in the rear view mirror.

  “Miss Tomas, you're not exactly what I thought a witch would be like.”

  “Call me Martha. The only thing that separates us from humans is our magic. We take objects, and make them do some pretty incredible things. We make neat little recipes. We don't howl at a full moon. We don't hide from the sun. I think it's why the rest of the supernatural world hates us so much.”

  Kevin and Rachel traded a look. He braced himself for any more strange details, but she was quiet, only giving directions.

  “Okay, we're here. Park next to the sidewalk.”

  Rachel and Kevin looked around as she killed the engine. There was a sandwich shop on the corner, a bank across the street, and other various stores that didn't seem special.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Martha pointed out the window. “We are here to break into the library.”

  Kevin and Rachel turned in their seats to face Martha.

  “We didn't come here to break into anything.”

  “Okay, break is a strong word,” she said with a frown. “We're going to use magic to borrow a book. That's what libraries are around for.”

  “Why is the library closed on a Saturday?”

  “No one reads in this town. We're lucky it's open during the week.”

  He shook his head and leaned back in his seat.

  “It's okay,” Martha said. “Just trust me.”

  He looked at Rachel. “Do you want to do some jail time together?”

  “Not exactly how I planned to spend my Saturday,” she said with a sigh.

  She opened the door.

  “That's the spirit,” Martha said.

  Martha didn't seem bothered in the least as they crossed the street. She even took the time to wave to a couple she knew riding their bikes down the sidewalk.

  She led them down a narrow alley next to the library, and stopped when they walked past a dumpster.

  “I think this is good enough.” She reached into her purse, grabbed a black marker, and tossed it to Kevin. “Draw a big circle on the wall.”

  “With this marker?”

  “It's not just a marker. It's a magic marker.” Martha nudged Rachel's arm. “I've always loved that joke.”

  Kevin did as he was told, and drew a large circle on the brick.

  “Good. Put your hand on the wall, and concentrate on making it vanish.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Sighing, she grabbed his hand and placed it on the wall for him, inside the circle he drew.

>   “Your mother wasn't this hard to teach.”

  He closed his eyes for nearly a minute, feeling foolish as he only felt the rough brick wall at his fingertips.

  “Uh, is the wall still there?”

  “Yeah. Good thing we only have three police officers in this town.”

  He opened his eyes and took a step back.

  “I don't know what I'm doing. Are you sure I'm really a witch?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Rachel, would you go over there and hold your boyfriend's hand?”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “Because Kevin relaxes when you're close to him. He clears his mind, and that's what we need right now.”

  Rachel smiled as Kevin shrugged and took Rachel's hand.

  He placed his free hand on the wall.

  The brick within the circle Kevin drew disappeared.

  Kevin and Rachel both jumped back. He instinctively stayed in front of her, keeping her behind him. She squeezed his hand as they stared in disbelief.

  Martha laughed. “Your first portal. I'm so proud. It's always an amazing sight, isn't it? You don't need a marker. Crayon, chalk, it doesn't matter, as long as you make the portal nice and large.”

  He studied the hole in the brick wall. It was shaped perfectly to the circle he drew. The edges shimmered slightly, like rippling water.

  “This is...insane. Is that the library in there?”

  “Yeah. Let's go. The portal will stay for a minute or so before the magic fades.”

  They followed Martha into the darkened library. All the lights were out, the only light coming from the windows in the front.

  Kevin didn't know how he was handling everything. Magical rocks, creating portals in walls, it was a lot to absorb.

  Rachel squeezed his hand and touched his shoulder, and he knew where his resolve was coming from.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “I think so.”

  “Being a witch is all about following your instincts,” Martha said. “There's plenty to learn, but a lot of wild things are just gonna pop in your head. You'll be able to do some wild things. You'll get used to it.” She pointed to a glass case in the corner. “There's our prize.”

  An ancient-looking book was on display. It was bound in leather with stained, worn pages. There was no writing on the cover.

  Martha sat in a chair and propped her feet up.

  “Now, how are you gonna get that book?”

  There was a quiet hum behind them, and the library grew even darker. They turned to see the portal Kevin created was once again a normal wall.

  “I don't know about this,” he said. “This looks important. I just can't steal it.”

  “It's not stealing. It's rightfully yours.”

  Kevin looked at Rachel. “You're smarter than me. What do you think?”

  “No, Kevin,” Martha said. “Use your instincts.”

  He smiled at Martha. “Afraid Rachel will make a better witch than me?”

  “Partially, yeah. You have to do this. Remember, witches are all about touch. The spells are easy. You just have to have confidence and know you can do it.”

  “Can I still hold Rachel's hand?”

  “Whatever.”

  He laughed and studied the case. Nothing special leaped out at him. It was glass on all sides, sitting on a wooden table.

  “The marker trick might mess up the book, won't it?”

  “Good.” Martha said, smiling. “A portal will go through anything, but it might go clear through the book. Then you can't grab it.”

  His eyes fell on a lock in the corner of the glass, and a picture of a key popped in his mind, surprising him.

  “Hey Rach, could I have your car keys?”

  He gripped a key in his hand and touched the lock.

  It turned on its own, and the glass case opened a few inches.

  Martha clapped behind him.

  “Good, Kevin. Locks don't do a good job of stopping a witch. I'm still convinced Harry Houdini had some witch blood in him. Go ahead and take the book. I'll be right back.”

  Kevin carefully carried the book to a nearby table, not bothering to open it.

  Rachel saw the look of concern on his face.

  “Hey,” she said, taking his hand in both of hers. “What's wrong?”

  “I'm not sure if this is all very cool, or very scary.”

  She gave him a tight hug, and leaned back to look in his eyes. “Maybe it's a little of both.”

  The lights came on, a section at a time. They both jumped to their feet and searched around them.

  “What the hell?”

  Martha approached them from the front, drinking a bottle of water.

  “Relax,” she said. “It's hard to read in the dark.”

  “Martha, we broke in here. Throwing the lights on might not be smart.”

  She laughed and waved her hand. “No, we didn't. I run this library. I put the book in the case last week. This has all been a test, a training exercise.”

  Kevin and Rachel locked eyes, and she shook her head.

  “I don't think I would be good in prison.”

  He offered a smile and laughed.

  Martha sat at the table with them, putting a hand on Kevin's.

  “I know I'm turning your world upside down. Believe me, there's a reason. I'll tell you everything you need to know.”

  “I guess being a witch could be worse, “ he said with a sigh. “I could have green skin and a hooked nose.”

  She smiled and gestured to the book.

  “That's yours. It used to belong to your parents. I held onto it after they died. Now I'm passing it on to you.”

  He opened it and skimmed through the old, handwritten pages. It looked like different people had written different sections. It reminded him of a cookbook. There were recipes and ingredients.

  Some of the ingredients caught his eye.

  Frog legs, bat wings, pig blood.

  “This is disgusting.”

  “A lot of the old recipes were. I doubt you'll use any of these, but this is your history. Witches write down recipes they discover, and pass it on to their kids. The last fifty or so, that's the handwriting of your father.”

  Rachel looked over his shoulder.

  “It looks like gibberish to me. Is this English?”

  “No, dear. It's our language. Only a witch can read or write it. It'll all just pop in Kevin's head.”

  “This belonged to my parents?”

  “Yeah. Read it when you're bored. More than just recipes, there are stories in there. It's fascinating for the history alone.”

  He closed the book. “Are you sure you don't want this?”

  She waved her hand. “I already scanned it as a PDF and sent it to my Kindle.”

  Kevin and Rachel laughed.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to let everything sink in.

  He was a witch with a magic touch.

  But shocked or not, he had enough sense for some questions.

  “What happened to my parents?”

  “We'd better go back to my house for that. We have a little more to talk about.”

  He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

  *****

  It was nearly six o'clock as Rachel watched Kevin and Martha from the dining room, cooking side by side at the stove. He had his own pot he was dumping ingredients into, while Martha gave him directions.

  “Just a teeny bit of cinnamon,” she said. “Just the tip of your finger.”

  “I feel like one of those chefs on the cooking channel.”

  “Now, a touch of garlic, and stir it with your finger.”

  “You want me to put my finger in this boiling sludge?”

  “It won't hurt.”

  He stirred the odd looking stew. Strangely, it was cold to the touch.

  It turned a bright green, only for a moment.

  “Let Rachel have a taste.”

  She held up her hands. “I'll pass, thanks.�
�

  Martha gave him a plastic cup. “Just a sip.”

  He shrugged and poured the stew into the cup. Rachel gingerly accepted it.

  “Is this gonna make me sick?”

  “No.”

  She took a small sip, and nearly gagged. “This is awful.”

  Kevin put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just gotta get this taste out of my mouth.”

  He gasped when she slowly faded before his eyes.

  “Rachel? What the hell? Where are you?”

  “Right here.”

  He turned around to see Martha smiling.

  “Invisibility. Well, kind of. Our eyes can't see her. But a camera would. Your father came up with that recipe himself, a tamer version from three hundred years ago. You should have seen what it used to be. A rabbit's paw. Intestines from a pigeon. It was nasty.”

  “Are you telling me with some cinnamon, garlic, sugar, and water, I can make invisible juice?

  “Don't forget heat, and the most important thing, your magic little fingers.”

  “I can see myself,” Rachel said. “I can see my hands.”

  “Of course. You're not invisible to your own eyes.”

  He waved his hand in front of him, and accidentally felt her breast.

  “Hey!”

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  She grabbed the front of his shorts and pulled him closer to her. They laughed as he nearly stumbled into her.

  “I could get used to this,” she said.

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she reappeared in front of him. Her lips were inches from his.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Well, hello there.”

  They kissed as Martha shook her head from the kitchen.

  “Break it up, you two. This isn't a hotel.”

  He wrapped an arm around Rachel and faced Martha. “And what cool magic trick are you cooking in there?”

  “Chili. I hope you two are hungry.”

  The sun was slowly setting as they ate at the dining room table. They didn't speak witchcraft for a while. Martha talked about the town, what she liked to do for fun. She asked Kevin and Rachel how they met, and Rachel told her the story of how he healed her in grade school. Martha listened with interest.

  As dinner came to an end, Martha looked at both of them.

  “Your parents,” she began. “They were great people. I trained your mother personally. They made enemies with some other witches, ones that didn't have as much conscience as they did. They all killed each other. I promised I'd keep you safe, and the best way to do that was let a loving husband and wife adopt you.”