The Wednesday Witch

by Ruth Chew

  The cat just purred louder. Mrs. Brooks picked her up and held her against her cheek. “Come down to the kitchen and have some breakfast. Mary Jane, wake up! How did Cinders get in your room?”

  “Through the window,” answered Mary Jane.

  “She must have run away from that woman,” reasoned her mother. “If she comes for her I’m afraid we’ll have to give Cinders back.” She pursed her lips and added grimly, “She’ll have to take her vacuum cleaner back too. I don’t like the way it works at all. I could do better with a broom. By the way, Mary Jane, what did you do with Daddy’s tools? He’s been looking everywhere for them.”

  The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Brooks went to see who was there. It was Marian, who had come to play with Mary Jane as she did every Saturday.

  Mary Jane rushed to dress and eat breakfast. As soon as Marian saw Cinders, she said, “I see your macaroni worked. Did you get rid of that old witch? I want to play with the dollhouse.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to take a trip on the vacuum cleaner? We could go to the zoo.”

  “I told my mother I’d be at your house.”

  Cinders was busy helping Mrs. Brooks with the dusting. Mary Jane and Marian decided to re-arrange the furniture in the dollhouse. Marian wanted to make kitchen curtains, with Kleenex and Scotch tape. While the two girls were working, they heard a tap on the window. They looked up to see Hilda peeking in.

  Mary Jane opened the window. At sight of the full-sized witch Marian drew back in terror. Even Mary Jane felt a little afraid.

  Skating into the room, Hilda said breathlessly, “Quick, Mary Jane, give me the little vacuum cleaner and the tools.”

  Mary Jane pulled them out of her desk drawer. With the measuring tape Hilda carefully returned each one to its proper size.

  “Put the tools back on your father’s bench,” said the witch. “I’ll take your mother’s vacuum cleaner.”

  It was quite a trick for Hilda to hold the vacuum cleaner in mid-air and skate out the window with it, but she managed it. She flew around to the front of the house, took off the skates, and tucked them in her pocket. With the vacuum cleaner in hand she marched up the front steps and pressed the bell. Mary Jane’s mother opened the door. Her eyes opened wide when she saw the witch.

  “Good day, Madam,” said Hilda politely. “I came to return your vacuum cleaner. It’s in perfect condition now. I’d like to have the other one back now, if you please.”

  “Yes, certainly,” said Mrs. Brooks. Sadly she added, “I suppose you’ll want your cat back too. You know she came back to us. Please won’t you let me buy her from you?”

  Hilda blinked her green eyes. “You mean you want that fat cat?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, then, by all means keep her. Only do let me have my vacuum cleaner.”

  “Just a minute.” Mrs. Brooks went upstairs to Mary Jane’s room. “You’ll never guess who is at the front door,” she said. “It’s that funny little fat woman. She’s brought back our old vacuum cleaner. And oh, Mary Jane, she said we can keep Cinders! Now, take her old vacuum cleaner down to her—it isn’t good for much.”

  Mary Jane carried James downstairs to the front door. She gave him to the witch. “Hilda,” she whispered, “promise you won’t kick him anymore.”

  Hilda looked down at Mary Jane. Suddenly she smiled. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a flat packet. With a little shake she unfolded it into a pair of roller skates—the magic folding flying skates.

  “They’re yours, Mary Jane,” she said, and handed them to her. Then the witch seated herself on the vacuum cleaner. She looped the hose around her neck, raised the wand, and sang out, “Home, James!”

  The vacuum cleaner rose slowly into the air and sailed higher and higher, up over the treetops, higher than the apartment building on the corner. At last it sailed away out of sight.

  Let the magic continue….

  Here’s a sneak peek at another tale by Ruth Chew!

  Excerpt copyright © 1977 by Ruth Chew. Published by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Amy straddled the broomstick. “Come on, Blue Boy, let’s go for a ride.”

  The broom seemed to quiver. Suddenly it began to jog around the kitchen. The blue bristles dragged on the floor. So did Amy’s feet.

  “Ow!” Amy’s ankle banged against one of the kitchen chairs. She held tight to the broomstick and tried to yank it upright. “Up, Blue Boy, up!”

  Without any warning the broom zoomed up into the air. Amy ducked her head just in time to keep it from crashing into the ceiling. “Steady, Blue Boy, steady!”

  The broom bounced up and down. It seemed to be trying to throw Amy to the ground. She wrapped her legs around the stick and hung on with both hands. “Easy, Boy, easy!”

  Jean started to laugh. “You look like a cowboy on a bucking bronco.”

  “Maybe you think you can do better,” Amy snapped.

  At this the broom glided to the floor. Amy got off. She handed the broom to Jean. “Your turn.”

  Jean stroked the broom handle. “Nice Blue Boy,” she said. She patted the blue bristles. Then she sat down on the bristles and waited. The broom lay quiet on the floor. “Please, Magic Broom,” Jean said, “won’t you take me for a ride?”

  Still the broom lay on the floor.

  All at once Amy had an idea. “Maybe it’s a girl!”

  Jean stood up. She turned the broom over and held it with the bristles up. “What a pretty broom it is! Of course it’s a girl.”

  Very slowly the broom swayed back and forth.

  “Look, Jean,” Amy said. “She’s trying to nod. And I think she likes to have her bristles up.”

  Again the little broom nodded.

  “No wonder she was angry with me,” Amy said. “I was holding her upside-down!”