Make A Witch

by Amanda M. Lee

“Because they’re your children and you created this situation,” Landon replied, not missing a beat. “I don’t have sympathy for you. And, as for Chief Terry, if you continue treating him poorly you’ll drive away Bay. He loves her. He didn’t make a wish, but he told her what it would be if he had wished for something. Do you want to know what that wish was?”

  “To be with Winnie?” Dad made a disgusted face.

  “No, to be Bay’s father and go back in time and do it even better the second time around,” Landon replied, causing Dad’s face to drain of color. “He loves Bay for who she is. You love Bay for what she is.”

  Dad looked confused. “I don’t understand. Are you insinuating that I love Bay because she’s a witch?”

  “No, I’m saying that you love Bay because she’s your daughter,” Landon corrected. “You feel you have to love her, so you love her. But here’s the thing: I don’t want anyone loving Bay out of a feeling of obligation. Love her because she’s Bay. Otherwise … don’t love her at all. She deserves more.”

  Dad drew his eyebrows together as he shot a rueful look in my direction. “He’s kind of smart … and mean … when he wants to be.”

  “He’s bossy and addicted to bacon, too,” I offered, blowing out a sigh. “The headache is easing. Chief Terry must’ve found Warren.”

  “Good.” Landon rubbed my forehead. “It will get better quickly now.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I know so.” Landon rested his forehead against my cheek as he rubbed my temple. “It seems like you guys keep trying to take shortcuts, Jack – and believe it or not, I’m not blaming you for this snafu because it wasn’t your fault – but you need to put in the work. Life isn’t going to hand you easy answers. That’s not how people succeed in the real world.”

  Dad mustered a legitimate smile for Landon. “I’ll keep that in mind. I … thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Landon kissed the tip of my nose. “Now, where is that cake?”

  “YOU WERE good with him.”

  I linked my fingers with Landon’s and swung our joined hands as we walked toward the guesthouse an hour later.

  “I wish I wasn’t forced to keep having these deep discussions with him,” Landon admitted. “He seems like he’s caught in a rough place. He wants a relationship with you, yet he’s bitter. My biggest problem is that he doesn’t seem to be bitter with himself.”

  “I think the opposite is true,” I argued, taking Landon by surprise.

  “You do?”

  I nodded. “I think he blames himself for all of it and the guilt is swallowing him whole,” I explained. “He hates himself for what he did and wants to go back in time and fix things. That’s not possible, so his anger keeps building and building … and occasionally it seeps out.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to go after Chief Terry.”

  “Definitely not.” I shook my head. “I always feel guilty for talking about Chief Terry in front of him, but what am I supposed to do? Chief Terry was there for us. He’s part of our family.”

  “He is,” Landon agreed, bobbing his head. “You’re simply going to have to play it by ear. I know I said that you guys shouldn’t be responsible for putting in effort, but it would be helpful if you would put in some effort.

  “I don’t think it has to be anything major,” he continued. “Perhaps you could invite your dad to lunch once a week or something. He needs an olive branch. Things will only get worse as long as you keep holding up Chief Terry as a paragon of virtue.”

  “I won’t cut Chief Terry out of my life.”

  “You don’t have to,” Landon shot back. “What you do have to do is find a way for them to co-exist. It’s best for everyone involved if you manage to find a level playing field.”

  “I’ll give it some thought.” I knew I sounded petulant, but I couldn’t muster a lot of effort. “I’m really tired. Do you think we could go to bed early tonight?”

  “Oh, baby, I was thinking we’d share a bath and then crawl under the covers until dawn,” Landon admitted. “I feel like an old man I’m so tired.”

  “I’ll bet I can make you feel young again,” I teased, playfully pinching his butt.

  “I’ll bet you can, too.” Landon wrapped his arms around my waist and dipped me low so he could press a scorching kiss to my mouth. “Maybe we’ll add one little item to tonight’s agenda.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” I giggled as Landon made gnawing noises and rubbed his cheek against mine. I was so caught up in the moment I blinked back the first shadow as it passed over my face. The second was harder to ignore, because I was forced to look up from my position and I didn’t miss the face smiling down at me as Hipster Man flew over the well-worn trail.

  “That is so hot,” he called out, causing Landon to jerk his head up.

  “Hey! We’ve been looking for you,” Landon barked.

  “Well, you’ve found me,” the boy said, beaming. “Now you just have to catch me.”

  And with those words, he zoomed off into the night … and right toward Aunt Tillie’s pot field.

  “I’m really starting to hate teenagers,” Landon muttered.

  I patted his arm. “I’m right there with you.”

  If I had a genie trapped in a bottle I would totally wish for a week alone. No more waiting in line for the bathroom. No more having to fight over stools at the counter. No more having to slap people over the last slice of bacon. Oh, don’t look at me that way. I would be perfectly fine … unless that’s when Bigfoot finally decided to make his presence known. If that happens I’ll wish I was dead, so … yeah, maybe I need to rethink this.

  – Clove, 10, explaining why the Winchester house is too small for all of its occupants

  Eighteen

  “Which way?”

  Landon narrowed his eyes as he scanned the sky. The moon wasn’t full, and clouds dotted the darkness, blocking the stars.

  “That way.” I pointed in the direction of the field even though I’d lost sight of the kid. “I’m pretty sure he’s been flying over the field every night.”

  “For what purpose?” Landon grabbed my hand so he wouldn’t accidentally lose me, and picked an easy pace for me to maintain. I think he remained worried about my headache, even though it had dissipated.

  “I’m telling you that the kid is an idiot,” I replied. “He probably thinks that pot grows year round.”

  “How does he even know about the field?”

  “It’s one of those secrets that’s not really a secret,” I answered. “Aunt Tillie’s field has reached legendary status with the younger set. It’s become something of a challenge for someone to be the first to stumble across the field.”

  “If they don’t know it’s there, why do they keep coming? Once a few kids tried and failed, I’d think they’d give it up.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s the way teenagers roll.”

  Landon kept a firm hold on my arm. The trees in the area were mostly bare – autumn stripping away the leaves – but there were plenty of holes and fallen branches to cause a fall or painful collision if we didn’t pay attention.

  “Go to the right,” I ordered, pointing. “There’s a fairly well-worn trail over there.”

  “I’ve seen this trail before,” Landon noted. “I didn’t realize it led to the field.”

  “You can’t find the field,” I reminded him. “Aunt Tillie hexed it so any law enforcement official looking for it will get diarrhea. She told you that herself.”

  Landon stilled, the ramifications of my words washing over him. “You don’t think that’s still true, do you?”

  I shrugged. “What’s more important? An uncomfortable night on the toilet or saving a kid before his wish goes bad and he rushes headlong into the ground and breaks his neck?”

  “Good point.” Landon remained rooted to his spot, tilting his head to the side as he considered his decision. “I’ll wait here. You can handle Hipster Man on your own. I have faith.”r />
  My mouth dropped open, stunned disbelief causing my stomach to twist. “You’ve spent the entire day doting on me and making sure I was taken care of. Are you really abandoning me now?”

  “That kid is not a threat,” Landon argued. “He’s just a lazy burnout looking for free weed. I have faith that you can handle him.”

  I narrowed my eyes, frustrated. “I don’t want to go alone.”

  “I don’t want to spend the night on the toilet.”

  “But … .”

  “I’ll watch from here.” Landon moved his hands in a small shooing motion. “If you get in trouble call out for me and I will come running.”

  “Yes, but will you be in time?”

  “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” Landon leaned forward to kiss me, but I jerked my head back.

  “You’re on my list,” I warned, extending a finger as I turned back toward the field. “If I die out here, don’t blame yourself too much. It’ll only be half your fault.”

  “Oh, geez. You’re so dramatic. You’ll be fine.”

  I broke into a jog, refusing to glance over my shoulder and give Landon the satisfaction of knowing that I was worried about handling this particular problem without him. I was almost at the edge of the field when I heard something in the bush to my right. I pulled up short and snapped my head in that direction. To my utter surprise, I found Thistle and Clove trudging through the foliage … and they weren’t even trying to be quiet.

  “I can’t believe this,” Thistle groused. “I wanted a cup of tea and a cookie. That’s the only reason I had Bay and Landon drop us at the inn. Now we’re stuck out here looking for Loser Man. It’s just not right.”

  “I’m right there with you,” Clove grumbled. “I wanted to pretend I didn’t see him when Twila pointed through the window, but here we are. I kind of want to beat this kid up. Do you think that’s wrong?”

  “It’s not wrong,” I offered, causing both of them to jolt. They obviously hadn’t seen my approach. “Landon is hiding over there because he’s worried he’ll get diarrhea if he goes with me. He’s spent the entire day trying to protect me, and now it’s all ‘you’re on your own’ and ‘you’ll be fine’ and ‘stop whining because you’re giving me a headache.’”

  Thistle snorted, craning her neck in the direction I gestured and grinning. “I forgot about the diarrhea curse. Aunt Tillie really is gifted when she wants to be.”

  “I can think of a few other words for her,” I snapped. “Why isn’t she out here dealing with this?”

  “She’s supposed to be inside dealing with the reversal spell – Mom says she’s close, by the way – so Aunt Winnie vetoed it when Aunt Tillie said she was going to get her shotgun,” Clove replied. “For once I wish she was here. I have no idea how we’re going to get that kid down.”

  She wasn’t the only one. “Did anyone see where he went?”

  “He’s right there.” Thistle pointed to a spot close to a tall pine tree. “He’s trying to hide because he knows we’re ticked off.” She raised her voice so it carried across the chilly night air. “He should be afraid, because I’m totally going to put my boot in his behind.”

  “You sounded like Aunt Tillie when you said that,” Clove offered.

  “And you sound like a kvetch whenever you open your mouth,” Thistle shot back. “Just … march.”

  We walked in a row, not stopping until we reached the pine tree in question. The boy hovered close to the top, dipping his head low as he tried to pretend he was part of the scenic tableau rather than the freak flying above it.

  “Is that Jimmy Nelson?” Thistle asked, narrowing her eyes. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “I have no idea who this Jimmy Nelson you speak of is,” the boy replied, unnaturally lowering his voice to a guttural level as he glanced around. “I am simply a misplaced soul looking for comfort in a strange land.”

  “You’re wearing a hoodie,” I pointed out.

  “You’re wearing a Hemlock Cove High School hoodie,” Clove added.

  “One of the nice people from that school loaned it to me,” the boy intoned. “My people are not used to cold like this.”

  “So you’re a superhero who is afraid of the cold?” Thistle challenged. “That doesn’t make you very super, does it?”

  “Or duper,” Clove added.

  “That add-on was completely unnecessary,” Thistle groused. “Good grief. Do we have to drag this out longer than necessary?”

  I planted my hands on my hips as I stared at the boy. Now that Thistle had mentioned a name I was pretty sure she was right. “Jimmy, you know it’s November, right?”

  “I’m not Jimmy!” The boy’s voice went unnaturally high. “Who is this Jimmy you speak of? It’s not me. I’ve met no Jimmy.”

  I ignored the diatribe. “Seriously, Jimmy, it’s November. We know why you’re out here. Now, we’re not going to admit the thing you’re searching for is here because … well … that would be illegal. We will say that if it were out here it would’ve been harvested long ago. Michigan’s growing season is over until spring.”

  “Yeah, come back in the spring,” Clove yelled out. “Is anyone else freezing? I’m totally cold. I blame Aunt Tillie for all of this.”

  “Join the club,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around my waist. “She caused this entire mess and she hasn’t done a thing to stop it.”

  “Tell me how you really feel, whiner,” Aunt Tillie said, stepping from the shadows and drawing our attention. She held a shotgun, a combat helmet on her head and a scowl on her face. I was only mildly terrified … although I think that was from the cold. “Are you done complaining?”

  “I’m nowhere near done complaining,” Thistle fired back. “I can’t believe you did this to us. It’s so unfair.”

  “And you’re not worried in the least,” Clove added.

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?” My irritation was evident as I flicked my gaze to her. “You don’t seem upset about any of this. The only thing you’re upset about is Mom keeping you on lockdown. I can’t help but find that strange, especially because someone died.”

  “Who died?” Jimmy asked, sliding away from the tree a bit. He was still a good twenty feet above us. There was no way we could snag him.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Aunt Tillie barked. “He’s not dead any longer. He came back from the dead, and everything is fine.”

  “Everything is not fine,” I challenged. “We just got smacked down with some really terrible headaches because Uncle Warren made a wish and apparently we fought it.”

  “Yeah, I felt as if I was dying,” Clove complained.

  “Oh, geez.” Aunt Tillie’s expression was murderous. “You guys wouldn’t make it through a war. You know that, right? In fact, you’re so whiny that I’m kicking you off my zombie apocalypse team.”

  “Go ahead,” Thistle shot back. “I’ll shoot you in the leg and leave you for a snack as I run away.”

  “This is not a productive conversation,” I interjected.

  “I don’t care. If she turns on me I’ll turn on her right back.” Thistle crossed her arms over her chest and stared down Aunt Tillie. “This is all on you, yet we’re doing all of the work. I’m sick of it.”

  “Oh, you’re sick of it?” Aunt Tillie was clearly happy to be out from under Mom’s watchful eye, because she didn’t hold back. “I’m the one who is sick of it. I’m sick to death of the whining … and the finger pointing … and the ‘woe is me’ looks you girls keep lobbing my way. I didn’t raise you to be this pathetic.”

  “We almost died from those headaches,” Clove complained.

  “Does everyone feel those headaches if they fight the wishes?” I asked, legitimately curious.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think that’s what happened to you girls,” Aunt Tillie admitted. “You should’ve been immune from the spell. You’re witches. I engineered it so we’d be immune in case something bad happened.”

  “I wasn’t immune from Sam’
s wish,” Clove pointed out.

  “Yeah, but how much of that was wish fulfillment because you’re a nester and get your self-worth from making him happy?” Aunt Tillie challenged.

  “I … you’re mean.” Clove jutted out her lower lip and averted her gaze.

  “We weren’t immune from Uncle Warren’s wish either,” I volunteered, drawing Aunt Tillie’s attention to me. “We said weird things – like we were kids again – and I used the word ‘daddy,’ and not in the way Landon likes me to use it when he’s feeling frisky.”

  “Oh, gross,” Thistle said, rolling her eyes. “You guys are so sick.”

  “I was joking … mostly.”

  “You weren’t joking and you are definitely sick.” Aunt Tillie fixed her unreadable gaze on Jimmy. “Get down from there.”

  “I’m an alien from another planet,” Jimmy said, defiant. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  “You’re Jimmy Nelson and your grandmother still buys your underwear,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “I know because she showed me the ones she bought you at the store the other day. Aren’t you a little old for Pokémon?”

  “How do you even know what Pokémon is?” Thistle challenged.

  “I know things.” Aunt Tillie scowled. “Get down from there. The wish will turn on you. Clove will drive you back to town so you can reverse the wish before something bad happens.”

  “Why me?” Clove protested.

  “Because you have to drive through town to go home,” Aunt Tillie replied. “If you don’t want to run the late-night errands you should’ve stayed on the property. That’s on you.”

  “Ha, ha,” Thistle teased, her lips curling.

  “I’m not taking back this wish,” Jimmy argued. “It’s awesome.”

  “I thought you were an alien from another planet?” I didn’t want to embarrass the boy, but he was beginning to talk in circles. I had a feeling the cold was getting to him. “Jimmy, I wasn’t lying earlier. You can keep flying over the property, but there’s nothing here to find.”

  “That’s not true.” Jimmy adopted a whiny voice. “If I find the field I’ll be the most popular kid in school.”