The Wednesday Witch

by Ruth Chew

  “Yes, Mrs. Carson.”

  When the teacher returned to her own desk, she was pleased to see Mary Jane leaning over a book. Cinders jumped through the hole in the desk top. The hole had been made for an inkwell, but there was no ink in it. The children used ballpoint pens.

  The cat was hidden. Mary Jane hoped she would stay quiet.

  Mrs. Carson was giving a lesson in arithmetic. “Now, children, if John had eleven apples and Sue had six, how many did they have together?” Mary Jane did not raise her hand, so the teacher called on her. “How many, Mary Jane?”

  “Eighteen,” said Mary Jane.

  “Seventeen, silly!” said Cinders.

  “I mean seventeen,” Mary Jane said.

  Mrs. Carson looked around the room. “Did I hear someone helping Mary Jane?”

  All the children were quiet. Mrs. Carson glared at each face in turn. “Don’t do it again,” she said to the class. “Sit down, Mary Jane.”

  “She’s meaner than the witch,” said Cinders.

  At twelve o’clock the children went to the basement lunch room. Mary Jane carried Cinders in her lunch box. The sandwich was in a plastic bag. Marian came to sit with her.

  “Hi, Marian,” said Mary Jane, opening her lunch box and pulling Cinders out of her sandwich. Cinders had bitten through the plastic bag and was pulling the meat out of the bread. Mary Jane put a bit of meat and the cat back in the lunch box and closed the lid.

  Marian had opened her mouth to take a bite of her own sandwich and left it open when she saw the tiny cat.

  “What’s the matter, Marian?” Mary Jane took a big bite of roast beef and bread.

  “I thought I saw a cat.”

  “Oh, that’s Cinders. She didn’t want to stay home alone so I brought her in my pencil case. I wish I hadn’t.”

  “I thought there was something funny going on. Carsey nearly caught you.”

  The lunch box rattled. Mary Jane opened it. Cinders jumped up on the thermos bottle. “That teacher is worse than the witch.”

  Marian stared. Before she had not been able to believe her eyes. Now her ears were playing tricks. “The witch?” she asked.

  “Remember?” said Mary Jane. “I told you about it.”

  “I thought it was just one of your stories.”

  Mary Jane glared. “You didn’t believe me. You’re just like my mother.”

  Marian was over her surprise. “I thought she was a regular-sized cat.”

  “The witch snipped her small with a pair of magic scissors.”

  “And I’m getting mighty tired of it,” said Cinders, arching her back. “I can’t stay home alone all day. Your mother might step on me. She’s nearsighted. She’d think I was a water bug.”

  “But, Cinders, you make such a lot of trouble in school. Couldn’t you go to sleep?”

  “Maybe if I had a nice drink of milk. Open your thermos.”

  “What will you drink out of?”

  “Pour some milk in your hand for me.”

  This was sloppy, and when Cinders had drunk her fill Mary Jane dried her hand on the paper napkin her mother had packed. Then she made a nest of Kleenex in the lunch box for the cat.

  Mary Jane drank the rest of her milk and crunched her way through an apple. She traded two sugar cookies for a big, puffy, chocolate-coated marshmallow one of Marian’s. As she nibbled the cookie, Mary Jane told about yesterday’s adventures. “I’m trying to figure a way both you and I can ride the vacuum cleaner,” she finished.

  The lunch box rattled. Mary Jane opened it. “Mary Jane,” said Cinders snappishly, “if you’d ask me I’d tell you.”

  “How?” Mary Jane leaned over until her nose nearly touched the tiny furry animal.

  “Don’t do that, Mary Jane! You’re so big that it scares me.”

  Mary Jane moved back. “Well, how, Cinders, how?”

  The cat curled into a sleepy ball on her nest of Kleenex. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” She closed her yellow eyes.

  Mary Jane shut the box. “I hope she sleeps all afternoon.”

  The girls sat close together on the bench. “You really flew past my window last night?” asked Marian.

  “You were doing your homework. It reminded me I hadn’t done mine.”

  A stout woman in a white apron moved about, cleaning the tables. Mary Jane set her lunch box on her lap. Children’s voices echoed off the walls. She wondered how Cinders could sleep with all the din.

  In the afternoon they had reading and spelling. Mary Jane was glad Cinders was asleep. The cat could read and spell better than anyone in the class. And she was such a show-off.

  It was a long hot afternoon. Outside the window the sky was very blue. There was the sound of men working in the street. Mary Jane hated the terrible rattle of the air hammers. There were two more weeks of school before the summer vacation. She could hardly wait.

  After school she walked home with Marian. “It’s so hot,” said Marian. “Don’t you wish we could go to the beach?”

  Mary Jane picked a dandelion that had gone to seed. “The beach. I wonder if we could.” She blew the seeds away and watched them fly on their feathery down. “I’ll ask Cinders tomorrow.”

  “Why tomorrow?”

  “Cinders said she’d tell me tomorrow how to ride two on the magic vacuum cleaner. Tomorrow is Friday, and the day after is Saturday and—”

  Marian understood. “Saturday,” she said, “we could go for a picnic.”

  On Friday Cinders slept late. Mary Jane left the cat’s breakfast in the dollhouse and went off without her. After school she spent a moment in the kitchen before going upstairs. When Cinders saw Mary Jane she jumped off the little sofa and began meowing loudly. “It was so lonely without you, and I’m hungry.”

  Mary Jane pulled a sardine tail from her pocket. “I thought you might be. I stopped in the kitchen to get this.”

  When she had finished eating, Cinders washed her face. “If you plan to ride the vacuum cleaner to the beach,” she said, “you’d better get a map. James goes only where you steer him.”

  “Can he carry two?” asked Mary Jane.

  “Yes, if one of you rides the hose.”

  This seemed simple. Mary Jane put Cinders on her shoulder and went downstairs. Cinders hid under Mary Jane’s collar. “Mother, I need a road map that shows the way to the beach.”

  “Homework, I suppose,” said Mrs. Brooks. “Look in the kitchen drawer.”

  Mary Jane began to explore the drawer. Under the gardening book with beautiful flowers on the cover were books of saving stamps. The stamp books were so interesting that Mary Jane almost forgot what she was looking for. She dug down through bits of string, a Christmas-tree ornament, a wooden spoon. Finally, at the bottom, Mary Jane found several road maps. She unfolded one and tried to read it, but she couldn’t tell the way to the beach.

  “Ask your mother,” whispered Cinders.

  Mrs. Brooks was making a meat loaf. When she turned away from it to help Mary Jane, Cinders ran down Mary Jane’s arm and jumped onto the table. She grabbed a mouthful of meat and sprang into Mary Jane’s pocket. This was done so quickly that Mary Jane hardly believed it happened. Her mother didn’t see it at all.

  Mary Jane’s mother marked a path on the map with a red crayon. “This map only shows the main streets. Our street would be about here.” She made an X on the map.

  “Suppose you were flying, Mother, starting from my window, which way would you go?”

  “From your window I’d take a short cut over the apartment building, past your school, and down to the park. Then I’d follow Ocean Parkway—that’s the street with the double rows of trees. When you reach the Belt Parkway, swing to the left and follow the shore. There are lots of beaches on Long Island. You might even fly as far as Montauk. It’s lovely there. If you were in a hurry you could just go down Ocean Parkway to Brighton Beach or Coney Island.”

  Mary Jane wished magic didn’t make her mother sick. It would be fun to tell her everything.


  “Talking of the beach, Mary Jane,” said Mrs. Brooks, “see if you can find the swimming mask. I have to chop onions.”

  Mrs. Brooks wore the swimming mask to keep from crying when she chopped onions. It made her look very strange.

  Mary Jane had seen the mask in the kitchen drawer. She pulled it out from under two aprons and an electric cord.

  “With the right recipe,” said Cinders, from Mary Jane’s pocket, “you could do magic with that drawer.”

  “Shh!” said Mary Jane, and left the kitchen.

  The doorbell rang. Mary Jane climbed on a chair to look through the peep hole. Marian was standing on the doorstep.

  Marian saw the bright brown eye through the peep hole. “Let me in,” she said in a raspy voice. “I am a wicked witch.”

  Mary Jane opened the door. “Come upstairs. I’ll show you the dollhouse.”

  When Marian saw the dollhouse she began to move the furniture around. Mary Jane put Cinders in the living room. The cat was about to jump into the red chair by the fireplace when Marian moved it. Cinders let out a yowl—as loud as she could with her tiny lungs.

  “Mary Jane,” howled the cat, “make her stop messing up my house!”

  “Dollhouses are meant to be played with,” said Marian.

  “Not my house!” Cinders stretched out on the sofa.

  Mary Jane was dragging James out of the closet. “Look, Marian!”

  “It looks like an ordinary old vacuum cleaner.” Marian sniffed.

  Mary Jane sat on the vacuum cleaner. She wrapped the hose around her neck and picked up the wand. “Once around the room, James.”

  James was not used to such cramped space. He got off to a wobbly start and then curved sharply to turn the corner of the room. Mary Jane’s legs caught in a chair and overturned it with a crash. This startled James. He rose sharply. Mary Jane’s head hit the ceiling with a bang. For a moment she was stunned and let the wand point downward. Down zoomed James like a dive bomber. By this time Marian was crawling under the bed.

  “What’s going on up there?” called Mrs. Brooks.

  “I knocked over a chair!” yelled Mary Jane. “Down, James!” she said hoarsely, pointing the wand at the floor. James came to a quivering stop.

  “Have you finished flying?” asked Marian from under the bed.

  “For now,” said Mary Jane, “but I’m taking you to the beach tomorrow. Remember?”

  “I’m trying to forget,” said her friend in a weak voice.

  “It’s very simple,” said Mary Jane, “you just have to straddle the hose and hang on to it—like riding a snake.”

  Marian looked doubtful. “I never rode a snake.”

  “Practice makes perfect,” said a voice from the dollhouse.

  “Cinders,” asked Mary Jane, “will you come on the trip?”

  “I don’t care for swimming,” said the cat, “but I’ll go for the ride, and don’t forget to pack lunch.”

  Saturday was sunny. The girls asked their mothers if they could have a picnic. Mary Jane’s mother was happy to find a use for yesterday’s leftovers. She made meat-loaf sandwiches and filled a thermos bottle with lemonade. Marian’s mother gave her a box of cookies and two big yellow apples. By half past nine everything was ready.

  Carrying a shopping bag, Mary Jane and Marian went to get the vacuum cleaner. Marian had her bathing suit, and Mary Jane found hers in her bottom drawer. She crammed both suits into the shopping bag with the food.

  Cinders was asleep in the doll’s four-poster bed. Mary Jane gently pulled back the covers and lifted the tiny black ball of fur to her face. The cat opened a yellow eye and asked, “Is it time for breakfast?”

  “We’ve had ours. I’d better give you some meat loaf.” Mary Jane unpacked a sandwich. She had to unpack the bathing suits first. She served Cinders a bit of meat loaf on a doll’s plate. Cinders asked for a second helping. Mary Jane had to unpack the sandwich again.

  “Are you sure you’ve had enough?”

  “I think I’d like a little milk, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Mary Jane took a thimble down to the kitchen and filled it with milk. She spilled some. It is hard to pour milk into a thimble.

  “Have you seen the vacuum cleaner anywhere, Mary Jane?” asked Mrs. Brooks. “I want to vacuum the living room.”

  “I’m going to be using it. I’ll give it to you when I’ve finished.”

  “Your room really is a mess. I’m glad you’re going to clean it up. Aren’t you going for a picnic?”

  “Yes,” said Mary Jane. She carried the thimbleful of milk upstairs and poured it in a doll’s bowl. “Hurry, Cinders. My mother wants to use the vacuum cleaner.”

  “That’s bad. James hates dust.” The cat began to lap the milk.

  Mary Jane connected the hose to the vacuum cleaner and unfolded the map. “You’d better hang on to the shopping bag, Marian. I have to steer.”

  Cinders had finished her milk. “I’ll ride on your shoulder, near your ear.”

  Mary Jane opened the window and picked up the metal wand. With the shopping bag handles looped over her arm, Marian straddled the hose and held on with both hands.

  “Ready?” asked Cinders.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” said Marian.

  “To the beach, James,” said Mary Jane. She pointed the wand at the open window.

  James liked Mary Jane because she never kicked him. Yesterday he had been out of practice. Today he meant to give her a smooth ride. Carefully he rose into the air. The hose stretched out behind like a tail. Marian hung on, and the whole picnic party sailed out the window into the June sunshine.

  Mary Jane held the map open. It flapped in the breeze and made it hard to steer. As James zoomed over the apartment building, a small boy was looking out the window. He told his mother what he saw, but she didn’t believe him. Soon the vacuum cleaner was high in the air. From the ground it looked like a strange kite.

  They sailed past the school and over the park. Soon they flew over the wide street with the double rows of trees.

  Marian was having trouble. Her feet kept flipping out behind her. The string handles of the heavy shopping bag cut into her arm. When she looked down she grew dizzy. “Mary Jane, aren’t we almost there?”

  “Almost. We should be coming to the highway soon.”

  Cinders had forgotten how much fun it was to fly. The wind blew through her ears and tail. She clung with sharp little claws to Mary Jane’s polo shirt. Both girls were wearing jeans. Mary Jane thought they were better for flying than skirts, although, as Cinders pointed out, the witch never wore jeans.

  They reached the Belt Parkway. In front of them the sea sparkled. Mary Jane steered toward it. She flew along the coast until Brighton Beach and Coney Island were far behind. Now there were fewer houses. They flew over a wild area with no roads leading to the shore. The narrow beach was deserted.

  A sea gull swooped and screamed. James flew right over the water. Far below was the white sail of a boat. Marian was so frightened at the sight of the ocean below her that she nearly lost her grip. “Turn back, Mary Jane!” she cried.

  Mary Jane swung the vacuum cleaner around and pointed down to the beach. They landed in a cloud of flying sand. Marian rolled over and over.

  Mary Jane gave James a pat. “Isn’t this great?”

  Marian grunted and blew the sand off her mouth.

  The sun and sand were warm. In the shelter of a clump of scrubby bushes poking up from the sand dunes, the girls changed into their bathing suits. They left their clothes near the vacuum cleaner and the shopping bag. Cinders asked to be put into the shopping bag. “The sun hurts my eyes,” she explained.

  The girls raced across the shining sand and splashed up to their ankles in the cold sea. Their toes sank in the wet sand as a wave drew back. Another wave rolled in and wet them to their knees. Leaning over they dipped their arms in the water. Pebbles and shells of many colors were at the bottom. Marian fished up a piece of
dark seaweed, which was covered with strange pods like little green bubbles.

  After a while they sat at the water’s edge and let the waves splash over them. The sea no longer seemed cold. Marian built a castle in the wet sand. Mary Jane helped by cleaning the sand out of the moat as it fell in.

  Their stomachs told them when it was time for lunch. When they unpacked the shopping bag in the shade of a bush, Cinders was found in a plastic sandwich bag. She had eaten a surprising amount of the sandwich filling. Marian looked at the sandwich and made a face. “You can have this one, Mary Jane.”

  Mary Jane uncorked the thermos. Little pieces of ice tinkled in the lemonade. The paper cups were mashed but still usable. It was a delightful picnic. Only Cinders complained. She didn’t like lemonade. “It’s not as bad as witch’s brew,” she said politely, “but I’d rather have cream, or even milk, if you’re out of cream.”

  After lunch Cinders went to sleep in the shopping bag. Mary Jane and Marian took turns burying each other in the sand. The afternoon sun made them drowsy, and soon they too curled up on the beach and fell asleep.

  Marian woke when a wave crept to her feet. The tide was coming in. She was stiff from sleeping on the ground, and her mouth was dry and salty. The vacuum cleaner was already deep in the water. At any minute it might be washed away. Marian got to her feet and shook Mary Jane.

  For a moment Mary Jane did not know where she was. Remembering, she jumped up and dragged the vacuum cleaner to a place the tide had not yet reached. Their clothes and the shopping bag were wet through. Mary Jane looked frantically for Cinders. At last she saw her, crawling through the sand. The tiny cat had left the shopping bag when the water had begun to seep in.

  The shopping bag was a wreck. They put their clothes on over their bathing suits. Wet socks and shoes were nasty to put on, and it took a while to get dressed. The wet clothes felt good on their sunburned shoulders.

  When they were ready, Cinders clung to Mary Jane’s soggy shoulder. “I almost miss the witch. She never did things like this.”

  Seated on the vacuum cleaner, Mary Jane waited until Marian had a firm grip on the hose and then pointed the wand skyward. “Home, James!”