The Wednesday Witch

by Ruth Chew

  The witch and the cat rode to school in Mary Jane’s pockets. Hilda gave no trouble. She went to sleep almost at once, but Cinders had the hiccups. She made so much noise that Mary Jane had to pretend she had them. Mrs. Carson nearly discovered the cat when Mary Jane gave Cinders a drink at the drinking fountain.

  All morning Mary Jane tried not to attract attention. To her relief the cat finally fell asleep. Hilda was snoring in one pocket and Cinders in the other, but luckily only Mary Jane could hear the snores.

  She met Marian for lunch. By then both the witch and the cat were hungry. Mary Jane put them in the lunch box with a cup of cold witch’s brew and a bit of meat from her sandwich. Then she told Marian about last night’s events. “Now,” she finished, “where do I get the macaroni?”

  “Easy,” said Marian. “Buy some and get your mother to cook it for your father.”

  “How can I make my mother cook it?”

  “Tell her you want it for supper.”

  “She knows I don’t like it.”

  “Does your father like it?”

  “If it has cheese on it.”

  Witch Hilda could bear it no longer. “Please,” she piped in her tiny voice, “change the subject. You are making me ill.”

  In the afternoon Mrs. Carson gave a science lesson. It was so interesting that Hilda poked her head out to listen. At sight of the teacher the witch stiffened all over. Her green eyes stared at Mrs. Carson’s pretty white hair. Before Mary Jane could stop her she climbed out of her pocket. The roller skates were on her feet. When Mrs. Carson bent her head over a magnet she wanted to show the class, Hilda skated through the air to the blackboard behind the teacher’s desk. Several children saw her. She looked like a black beetle sitting on the ledge for the chalk.

  “What’s that at the blackboard?” asked a boy. Mrs. Carson turned to look, and the witch skated onto her head.

  “There’s a bug on you, Mrs. Carson!” screamed one of the girls.

  Mrs. Carson felt something pull her hair. She slapped at it, but Hilda was too quick for her. She yanked out three shining hairs and skated off to hide in the coat closet.

  By now the children were running up and down the aisles and yelling. Mrs. Carson rapped with a ruler on her desk.

  “Quiet!” she commanded. She opened her handbag and took out a mirror and comb to straighten her hair. A few white hairs were caught in the teeth of the comb. The teacher neatly pulled them off and tossed them into her wastebasket.

  “Cinders,” whispered Mary Jane, “did you see that?”

  “Put me on the floor,” said Cinders. Mary Jane pretended to pick up an eraser and set the little cat on the floor.

  Cinders carefully picked her way through the children’s feet. Going quietly on her soft paws she reached the wastebasket. It was made of wire and she crawled right into it. With a little rustling of paper she pulled the white hairs out of the basket.

  At this point Hilda skated out of the coat closet straight at Mrs. Carson’s head. The teacher waved her arms wildly, but Hilda was like a dive bomber circling up and zooming down to snatch a hair or two each time.

  Again the children were on their feet.

  Mary Jane was afraid Cinders would be trampled in the excitement. She slipped over to the wastebasket and rescued the little cat. Cinders proudly showed her four white hairs neatly wound around her paw.

  With Cinders safe in her pocket Mary Jane went to help the witch. Two of the boys were trying to catch her. Hilda darted here and there playing tag. Now and then she snatched another hair from the poor teacher’s head.

  “I think I can catch it,” said Mary Jane. “Hold still, Mrs. Carson. If it lands on your head I’ll grab it.”

  Hilda understood. The boys drew back to give Mary Jane room. Hilda landed neatly on the teacher’s head and began to pluck hairs as if she were pulling the petals off a daisy. Mary Jane cupped her hands over the witch and then went swiftly to the window and threw her out. Hilda skated off toward Mary Jane’s house.

  “Thank you, Mary Jane,” said Mrs. Carson. “Now, children, let’s get back to our science lesson. Who here has made an electromagnet?”

  At three o’clock Mary Jane and Marian walked home together. When Mary Jane reached her front door she waved good-bye to her friend. Her mother was waiting for her at the door.

  “It’s time for our talk, Mary Jane. Come in the kitchen and have some milk.”

  Cinders was in Mary Jane’s pocket. At the mention of milk she began to stir around. Mary Jane filled a bottle cap with milk from her glass and cupped her hand over the cat while she drank. Mrs. Brooks was busy at the sink and didn’t notice. Mary Jane seldom had trouble hiding things from her. She wasn’t like Mrs. Carson, who noticed everything.

  “Mary Jane, it’s time you started to grow up. I don’t understand how a big girl like you could act like a four-year-old. Daddy is very angry.”

  “Mother, let’s fix a special treat for Daddy. Make macaroni and cheese for supper.”

  “You know you don’t like it.”

  “But Daddy likes it. I’ll have tuna fish.”

  “That reminds me. Mary Jane, what are those cans of tuna fish doing in the shopping bag in your room? Were you planning to run away from home?”

  Mary Jane did not answer. She peeked under her hand to make sure Cinders had finished her milk. She put the cat back in her pocket.

  “Please, Mother, let me cook the macaroni for Daddy.”

  “Then you will have to run to the store for it. I don’t have any in the house.”

  Before going to the store, Mary Jane changed into play clothes. She looked into the dollhouse and found Hilda counting the white hairs as she lined them up on a bed. “Seventeen,” said the witch.

  Cinders meowed and held up the paw holding the white hairs. Hilda laid them on the bed beside those she had collected. “Twenty-one. That’s one extra.”

  “One for good luck,” said Cinders. She scampered around chasing her tail. Cinders was pleased with herself.

  After Mary Jane returned from the store, she put a pan of water to boil on the kitchen stove. Her mother helped her with the cheese sauce.

  When Mr. Brooks came home he walked into the kitchen to find a snack. Mary Jane was waiting for him. “Please wait for supper, Daddy. I want you to be really hungry.”

  “I’ll be hungry,” her father promised, taking a box of crackers out of the cabinet.

  At this moment Hilda skated into the room and circled Mr. Brooks’s head. He was so startled that he dropped the crackers. “It’s that bat again!” he exclaimed.

  Quietly Mary Jane picked up the crackers and hid them.

  By supper time Mr. Brooks was very hungry. He sat at the table, and Mary Jane’s mother served him a plateful of macaroni and cheese. As he was about to take a bite, Mary Jane let out a yell. “Watch out! There’s that bat again.” She jumped out of her chair, ran around the table, and knocked her father’s plate to the floor. It smashed into a dozen pieces.

  “I’m sorry,” said Mary Jane. “I’ll clean up the mess.”

  Her mother and father looked at her as if she were crazy. Mrs. Brooks spooned out another serving of macaroni on a fresh plate while Mary Jane picked up the broken one.

  She put the spilled macaroni in a basin. At the kitchen sink she washed the sauce off twenty pieces and stored them in a plastic bag. She stuffed the bag in her pocket and went back to the dining room table. Her mother and father had decided it was best to ignore the strange way Mary Jane was acting. They ate supper as if nothing had happened.

  After she had helped her mother with the dishes, Mary Jane found a needle in her mother’s sewing box and took it to her room.

  Cinders was in the kitchen of the dollhouse hoping for some tuna fish. Mary Jane ran back downstairs to get the tuna-fish can before her mother threw it out. Her father met her walking upstairs with the can.

  “What’s that for?” he asked.

  “Cinders.”

  “I thought
we didn’t have that cat anymore,” said Mr. Brooks. Mary Jane went quickly to her room. She put Cinders right into the can.

  “I’ll have a terrible time getting myself clean after this,” grumbled Cinders.

  “I’m afraid you won’t get enough to eat any other way,” explained Mary Jane. Cinders began licking the can clean while Mary Jane took the macaroni out of her pocket. Hilda came flying out of the dollhouse on the roller skates. “Put it on the floor end to end,” she said.

  With some help from Hilda, Mary Jane threaded the needle with a white hair. She sewed the pieces of macaroni together, making a long chain. Mary Jane coiled the macaroni inside the empty tuna-fish can and made a lid with a rubber band and a handkerchief.

  “I’ll do my homework now, and then we’d all better go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll figure out how to get the rattlesnake rattles.”

  “They’re no problem,” said Hilda. “Everybody has them in Witch Town. I may even have a few in my cave, back in the corner with the octopus ink and turtles’ teeth.”

  When the homework was done, Mary Jane went right to bed. The next morning she set out breakfast for Cinders and the witch and went to school without them. It was Friday, and all the children were happy when the final bell rang at three o’clock. Marian and Mary Jane walked slowly home.

  “How long are you going to keep that witch, Mary Jane? Isn’t she a dreadful nuisance?”

  “Yes, in a way, but when you get to know her she’s not bad.”

  “I don’t trust her,” said Marian. “What happened to those scissors?”

  “I put them in a safe place. You never know when they’ll come in handy.”

  When they reached Mary Jane’s house, Marian decided to come in for a while. Mrs. Brooks opened the door and went back to the telephone. She was talking excitedly to someone.

  Upstairs the two girls found Hilda surrounded by all the parts of a tiny vacuum cleaner. “Hilda,” Mary Jane cried, “what are you doing to my mother’s vacuum cleaner? First you snipped it small. Now you’re taking it apart.”

  “Mary Jane, I could fix this if I had the right size screwdriver.”

  “I still have the magic scissors,” said Mary Jane. “I could snip a screwdriver down to size, but what if Daddy needed it?”

  “Mary Jane,” said Hilda, “you have to take that chance.”

  In the end Mary Jane snipped down quite a few tools and nuts and bolts and washers from her father’s workbench. Hilda worked on the vacuum cleaner for nearly an hour while Cinders kept track of all the parts.

  Mary Jane and Marian went to the hardware store for batteries for the dollhouse. Now they could plug the vacuum cleaner into the little wall outlets.

  Hilda enjoyed her work. She said it was a lot like magic and not nearly so dangerous. The witch was pleased and proud when all the parts were back in place, and the tiny vacuum cleaner worked like a charm. She did refuse to clean the dollhouse, though. Marian vacuumed it from top to bottom. “If I thought I’d be living here much longer I’d never allow it,” said Hilda. She flew about Mary Jane’s bedroom on the roller skates so as not to be in Marian’s way.

  When Mary Jane heard her mother call she ran downstairs. “Mary Jane,” said Mrs. Brooks, “some old friends telephoned. They want Daddy and me to meet them for dinner and go to a play. I can’t get a sitter for you. Could you cook your own supper? I’ll put a TV dinner in the oven. All you have to do is turn it on for a few minutes.”

  “I don’t need a baby-sitter, and of course I can get my own supper. When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as I can.”

  After Marian had gone home Mary Jane watched her mother dress. Mrs. Brooks powdered her nose and put on some of her new perfume called “Mischief.” As soon as the stopper was off the bottle Mary Jane ran to her own room and grabbed Hilda. The witch was getting ready to skate after the wonderful smell. Mary Jane could hardly hang on to her. Finally she locked her in her desk drawer and went back to say good-bye to her mother. Then she returned to let Hilda out of her prison.

  “Don’t be angry, Witch Hilda,” she said. “If my mother saw you it would spoil everything. She’d take an aspirin and lie down. Then, how would I get away? Hurry now, let’s get back to Witch Town.”

  The thought of working on her magic spell cheered Hilda. Mary Jane stuffed her in a pocket with Cinders. The tuna-fish can with the macaroni in it went into the other pocket. Soon they were on their way.

  They flew along at a remarkable speed. In almost no time the vacuum cleaner arrived at the witch’s cave.

  The fire was out under the big iron pot. Mary Jane made a few trips on the vacuum cleaner to the forest at the foot of the mountain to get firewood. Hilda took her last match to re-light the fire.

  When the brew was once more bubbling and steaming, Mary Jane read the recipe again. Suddenly the witch stopped skating and came to rest on the shelf near her big book. “Drat!” said Hilda. “It isn’t Wednesday!”

  “What’s so special about Wednesday?”

  Hilda drew herself up to her full three and a half inches. “I was born on a Wednesday, and that’s really the only day I can be certain a spell will work.”

  “Isn’t there anything we can do?” asked Mary Jane sadly.

  A gleam of hope flickered in Hilda’s green eyes. “Mary Jane,” she asked hoarsely, “do you know what day you were born on?”

  Mary Jane knew very well. Her mother often told her, “Friday’s child is loving and giving.”

  “Friday,” she told the witch.

  Hilda sprang into action. “Hurry, Mary Jane, perhaps we still have time. I don’t think it’s midnight yet. If you throw the things into the pot perhaps the spell will work. That pretend witch’s brew of yours was very good.”

  With trembling hands Mary Jane found the four rattlesnake rattles, but then she gasped, “Oh, dear!”

  “What’s the matter?” asked Hilda, who was skating in little circles around the pot.

  “I don’t know how to do the can-can!”

  Hilda laughed and held up her skirt. Still on roller skates she started to dance the can-can. Her pointed hat bobbed up and down.

  Mary Jane threw the macaroni and the rattlesnake rattles into the boiling brew. The witch danced round and round on her roller skates.

  Only one more thing was needed to cast the spell. “Hilda,” asked Mary Jane, “do you know the Gettysburg Address?”

  “No.” Hilda continued to dance.

  “Neither do I.” Mary Jane felt like crying. All their work was for nothing!

  And then, out of the darkness of the cave, a small voice came. “Four score and seven years ago—” it began.

  Cinders was reciting the Gettysburg Address.

  Mary Jane was very quiet. From the old iron pot a pale green steam rose in hissing spurts. The boiling liquid rose higher and higher and finally bubbled over the edge of the pot and streamed down onto the fire below. With a crackling sputter like a machine gun, the fire went out.

  With the big spoon Mary Jane fished down in the thick slimy depths of the pot. She scooped up the first thing the spoon touched. It was a tape measure, white and bright, neatly coiled into a spool, and very, very long! Mary Jane lifted it off the spoon and walked to the mouth of the cave to examine it in the starlight.

  “Light a torch,” squeaked Hilda. “Aren’t there any more matches?”

  “No.”

  “Well, maybe we can work it in the dark. I’ll stand on one end of the tape measure.”

  Hilda had taken off the skates and was perched on the edge of the shelf. Mary Jane took her down and planted her on one end of the tape measure. The witch stood as tall as she could. “Measure me.”

  As Mary Jane unrolled the tape, the witch became taller and taller. At last Mary Jane stood on her tiptoes with her hands above her head. The witch towered black above her.

  “There,” said Hilda in her harsh loud voice, “this seems to be the right size.” She stepped off the tape measure, and it c
oiled back into the spool in Mary Jane’s hand with a snap.

  The witch fixed her green eyes on Mary Jane. “How you’ve shrunk,” she said. “Now, let’s see about that cat.” She grabbed the tape measure and looked around for Cinders. Holding her by the nape of her neck she measured her.

  When Cinders wriggled free and darted to a far corner of the cave, she was a regular-sized cat.

  “I think you made her a little bigger than she used to be,” Mary Jane said.

  She looked around. It was very dark. Mary Jane had forgotten how frightening the witch was when she was her usual size. “I think I’d better go home.”

  “Can you get home alone, Mary Jane?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Hey, you!” Hilda screeched. Cinders crept trembling from the shadows. “You’re not really a bad cat, but you’re much too fat. All of Witch Town would laugh at me if I kept a cat like you. I’m afraid you’ll have to go. Perhaps Mary Jane will let you live with her. At any rate, I want you to guide her home.”

  Mary Jane seated herself on the vacuum cleaner, and Cinders rode on the hose as it stretched out behind like a snake. “My house, James.”

  The trip home didn’t take long. Several times Cinders had to tell Mary Jane the way but they reached Mary Jane’s window in good time.

  As soon as she had put James in the closet, Mary Jane ran down to the kitchen. She was hungry. She looked in the oven. The TV dinner was warm but rather dried up by now. Mary Jane shared it with the cat. Then she went to sleep with Cinders curled up on the foot of her bed.

  In the morning, when Mary Jane’s mother came to wake her, she found the cat in her room. She bent down and scratched her behind the ears. Cinders arched her back and purred. She rubbed against Mrs. Brooks’s leg.

  “Cinders,” said Mrs. Brooks, “wherever did you come from?”