October was quickly fading from cool, early fall to cold, late fall. The sky was perpetually gray, shifting between rain and wind. Anona had given up hope of any last harvests, and all the plants were put to bed for the season. Mirabelle had taken it upon herself to watch over the animals while Anona was busy with the earth. Lemon and Lime had completely come around and ran to greet her when she came in. Clementine was still wary and Elsie continued her post as resident bitch.
“Elsie if you try to kick me one more time when I am filling your water, I am going to send for a billie to hassle you again!” Mirabelle huffed in frustration.
“Did you just threaten your goat with unwanted sexual advances?” Mirabelle whipped her head around. Matthew stood in the doorway laughing at her.
“I can’t help it; she’s a See You Next Thursday.” Mirabelle finished pouring the bucket water into the trough. “What are you up to today?”
“Just came by to help Anona finish up the gardens. We are coming up on the quiet part of my year. In a few weeks, there will be no work until February with the syrup harvest.” As if by instinct, Matthew jiggled a loose stall door, dropped to his knees and started tightening it with a screwdriver pulled out of his pocket.
“You just happened to have a screwdriver in your pocket?” Mirabelle said then felt her face go red. Matthew didn’t seem to notice, thankfully.
“Never know when you might need to screw something.” Oh, man, Mirabelle thought, I really want to sleep with him.
“Never know.” She repeated. “So, you won’t be around everyday anymore?”
“No, I’ll still come by once or twice a week to see if anything needs fixing.” He stood and brushed his knees off. “You won’t be missing me too much, will you?” Matthew’s face slowly broke into a smile.
“I was more worried that you might be missing me too much. I don’t want you to pine over me, or anything.” Mirabelle teased.
“Thank you for your concern. I’ll see you around. Be nice to Elsie.”
October 31st arrived with much more anticipation than recent years. As a little girl, Mirabelle had giddily dressed up and gone house to house like a normal kid. Beyond that, she had always loved the flickering candlelight in the pumpkins. As a teenager, Halloween had lost its appeal to her. She didn’t egg houses, she thought smashing pumpkins was the cruelest thing someone could do, and the idea of getting hammered and then sitting around with friends had always struck her as more of a summer activity.
This year, she and Anona had saved some of their non-edible pumpkins and carved them up with silly faces. They lined the long driveway up to the house, accompanied by ghosts (made with white sheets) in the trees. The last Farmer’s Market of the season had passed, and now they just had to save a few pumpkins for an influx of pumpkin pie around Thanksgiving. Halloween, or Samhain, was a windy day, perfect for trick-or-treating and some harmless scares.
“All ready!” Anona announced, coming out of her room. Mirabelle burst out laughing. Anona was dressed head-to-toe as a witch. Not a green face scary witch, but a black hat, point shoes, orange striped tights fun witch.
“Apparently we don’t keep our identity secret?” Mirabelle had ironically dressed as a Tinkerbell-like fairy. She wore nylon wings made from an old pair of tights painted with blue and pink sparkles, and the least-sexy adult fairy costume she could find. If Blondie showed up tonight, well, she now had fake wings he had to contend with.
“No one expects a witch to dress like a witch! That would be crazy.” Anona smiled. She pulled out her bowl of king-size candy bars and set them on the table. Because the neighborhood kids could really only hit about 15 houses at most, Anona rewarded their non-suburban lifestyle with extra-large candy, and kept copious notes as to what each kid liked to eat. She really was the ideal neighbor.
“Will you run to the barn and make sure there’s enough food in the trough? I don’t want Elsie running after the kids trying to steal their Halloween bags.” Anona asked, pulling out a tray of caramel apples that were cooling in the fridge. Mirabelle was unable to put a jacket on over her elaborate wings, so she just flipped her scarf around her neck and pulled on her boots. It was chilly and awkward running across the grass in a tulle fairy costume, but after she got used to the bouncing nature of the dress, she was at the barn in no time.
The troughs were all full, water included, so Mirabelle just gave the sheep and dogs a few pats on the head, and cast an approving glance Elsie’s way. She turned to leave the barn, but the door slammed shut. She stopped for a moment, truly afraid, then convinced herself it was only the wind and went to leave. The door wouldn’t budge. She looked at Brownie and Selkie; both were relaxed and ignoring her. Mirabelle tried the door again, slamming into it, but it still didn’t move.
“BOO!” Someone grabbed her from behind. Mirabelle screamed and thrashed her arms and legs around, trying to break free. Her captor released her, dropping her to the ground.
“Mirie! It’s just me,” Matthew reached to help her to her feet. “I didn’t mean to scare you that badly.”
“Fucking hell!” Mirabelle shouted. Once on her feet, she shoved Matthew. “You scared me to death!”
“I am so sorry,” Matthew said genuinely. “I had no idea you were that jumpy.” He brushed some dirt off her arm. “I like your costume. You look pretty.”
“Are you trying to appease me?” Mirabelle crossed her arms. Matthew did look handsome. He was dressed as a lumberjack, complete with a real axe strapped across his back.
“Just being truthful. Michael, you can open the door up now.” He called. No answer. Matthew banged a few times on the door. “Michael, come on, let us out!” Now Mirabelle laughed. She should know to trust the animals. When Blondie was afoot, the animals were freaked. Of course they had been calm; it was only Matthew.
Now, her friendly neighborhood lumberjack was throwing his shoulder against the door, trying to shove it open.
“Is he standing there still?” Mirabelle was worried Matthew was going to break through the door and injure both himself and his brother.
“No. He propped a bench beneath the handle.” Matthew continued trying to jiggle the door free.
“Anona’s going to be angry if you break down the door. And your Halloween will be spent rebuilding a door for a pack of animals that will try to run free.” Mirabelle dusted off a small stool and sat on it. “He’ll come back eventually. Or Anona will notice I haven’t come back and look for me.” Matthew ceased his attempts to break free.
“What are you doing tonight?” He sat on the ground next to her.
“Handing out candy. Probably eating pumpkin pie for dinner. You?”
“Patrolling the neighborhood. I will be saying hello to the little ones and terrifying the ten to fifteen year olds. To the under ten bunch, I am Paul Bunyan. To the over ten, I am an axe murderer.”
“Lovely. I, as you can tell, am a fairy.” Mirabelle motioned to her outfit.
“Yes, you seem like you are covered with glitter from head to toe. Do fairies often time travel to the late 90’s?”
“Staring at my skin, are you? Well, to be honest, I was always jealous of Anona and her body glitter. I was only in second grade when the craze hit, much to young to partake. But Anona used to doll herself up in glitter for her middle school parties, and tonight, I am living the dream of my eight year old self.”
“Well, you look nice in glitter.” Matthew sunk to his knees next to her. The barn was quiet. All the animals seemed lost in their own thoughts and paying no attention to the humans. Matthew exhaled, then just looked at her.
“Why are you staring at me?” Mirabelle whispered, smiling.
“Because I am going to kiss you.” Matthew whispered back. And in a moment, he had. It was a very quick kiss, but just long enough to make Mirabelle realize she hadn’t wanted it to end. He pulled away with her eyes still closed, her hands still reaching for his shoulders.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” Matthew said, standing up
.
“What?” Mirabelle was still dazed. “No, I wanted you to, for a while,” she started. “Come back, we can do it again,” she smiled.
“But I never should have done that here.” He walked to the door, jammed his shoulder against it one last time, and miraculously, the door flew open. The bench Michael had used to barricade them inside crashed to the ground.
“Matthew, come on,” Mirabelle called after him. He kept walking to the house, though, and Michael came out immediately. She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of anyone, so Mirabelle trudged out, reconciling to talk about it later.
The afternoon and early night was a blur of candy, happy kids, and wonderful costumes. All the campers came by, and Mirabelle also got to meet a few other kids from the neighborhood who didn’t come to camp. Anona let the middle schoolers run around in her woods to get themselves nice and revved up before heading out. Mirabelle felt a little bad knowing that they would probably run into Matthew on the way home, set on giving them a scare.
When 9 rolled around, Anona turned off the porch light (a sure sign there was no more candy to be had) and collected a small basket she had prepared. Mirabelle followed her out to a clearing beyond the apple trees pretty deep into the farm. Anona had previously set up a fire pit ready to be lit. She grabbed the starter log from the side, placed it in the center, and snapped her fingers. The log burst into flames.
“Holy shit! Did you just do that?” Mirabelle shrieked. Anona smirked.
“I have a few tricks. Glad you are impressed; that took years to master and still it rarely works on a regular day. Samhain is a fire festival, so my fire skills are slightly amplified.” Anona sat on the ground, pulling a few things out of the basket.
“I am going to be able to do that?” She questioned.
“Depends,” Anona rearranged the logs. “If you study to be a nature witch, probably.”
“What are those?” Mirabelle asked, pointing to what looked like herbs bound with twine.
“Cleansing sticks. Sage to clear us of the last season; basil, rosemary, and dill to reinforce our protection spells; lastly, bay leaves to help you figure out what type of witch you are.” Anona laid the sticks in a row, and dug back into the basket. She now pulled out two knit blankets, handing one to Mirabelle and keeping one for herself.
“Mom made them. Can’t be too careful on Samhain; the veils between the realms are thin tonight.”
“Is something going to wander out to find us?” Mirabelle looked over her shoulder - nothing but darkness.
“Who knows? I could always snap my fingers and start a small fire to distract it.” Anona joked. Mirabelle didn’t laugh, but she did wrap the blanket tightly around her.
“So do we speak Latin now? Would the gods be offended if I spoke English? Do we follow gods? Oh man, can I still celebrate Christmas?!? What about Easter! Am I a Heathen?” Mirabelle was having a minor panic attack. She had been raised as a sort of cultural Catholic. They went to church on Christmas and Easter and Mirabelle had always loved reading about all the saints and their miracles. She liked the special masses that involved incense and anything candlelit after dark. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to give all that up.
“Okay,” Anona set the cleansing sticks down. “First things first, you can still celebrate whatever holidays you want to and pray to whatever deity you would like to. We are not Heathens; we are witches. There is nothing written saying a Bible-thumper can’t be a witch. I don’t think of it as following gods, so much as speaking to nature, and understanding that there are beings different than us, and realms different than ours.” Anona soothed. “And, you can speak whatever language you would like; I will be speaking English. I don’t know any Latin and I don’t think nature is impressed by broken French.” Mirabelle nodded, and took a deep breath. Something about celebrating this first holiday seemed to cement her witchhood. It was as if the first word she spoke would be a step down a path she could never retreat from.
“Ready?” Anona asked.
“Yes.” Mirabelle took that first step. Anona handed her the bay leaf stick, and took the other two in her hands. She closed her eyes.
“Those who are listening, welcome or unwelcome, we sit here to take notice of the fire festival of Samhain. Our year has ended, and we asked to be cleansed of any negativity that seeks to follow us into the new year.” Anona lit the sage stick, wafting the smoke around her. It smelled thick and wonderful and it may have been the fire or the night sky, but Mirabelle swore she could see James’ face drifting away in the smoke.
Anona set the sage stick at the edge of the fire, its edge still smoldering. Now, she gripped the protection stick, and came to her feet, motioning Mirabelle to do the same.
“As I light these herbs, I ask for protection from those who seek to harm us.” Anona walked towards the house. “Keep the dark ones at bay. Keep us safe. None may enter our house without an invitation.” They walked all the way back to the house, which they circled three times, then to the barn where they did the same. When they came back to the fire, Anona set the remains of the stick into the fire, and handed the last one to Mirabelle.
“This one’s for you.”
“What do I say?” Mirabelle whispered. Anona shrugged.
“Whatever you want.” Mirabelle was quiet for a moment. She didn’t want to embarrass herself, but then realized the only person listening was Anona and she wouldn’t tease her.
“Hello, Nature.” She began. “I recently found out that I am a witch, and that makes us pals. I would really like to know what kind of witch I am because I think it would make this journey into witchhood slightly easier for me. So I am going to light this stick, which smells like fall soup, and hopefully it will please you enough to maybe give me some clues, or all out tell me what kind of witch I am. So, yeah, thanks.” Mirabelle lit her smudge stick, blowing on the embers to keep it smoking. “Now what?”
“Well, I am off to leave some food out for the gnomes. They love pumpkin pie just as much as the next person. You stay here and think on your request. I’ll be back to sit with you until the fire goes out.”
“Won’t that take hours?” Mirabelle questioned.
“Another reason for the blankets.” Anona called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the darkness.
The scent of the bay leaves was the strangest mix of suffocating vapor and mind-opening loveliness. Her eyes drifted between open and closed, rarely registering anything other than the fire in front her. Anona must have come back at some point, but Mirabelle took no notice. She saw nothing but flames, heard nothing but crackles, smelled nothing but burning bay, felt nothing but the ground beneath her, tasted nothing but thirst.
She saw things she couldn’t explain, places that could not exist. She saw a great queen on a throne of amethyst and a man made of raindrops. Mirabelle floated past them in the most delicious state of higher existence. She drifted through fractured worlds with creatures crawling up the vegetation, trying to grab hold of her, but she was always out of reach. She saw a mermaid with teeth like a shark and a shark with the eyes of human.
Mirabelle blinked and it was morning. She lay next to the last embers of the fire, snuggled underneath both blankets with Anona lying next to her.
“Was there peyote in that cleansing stick?” Mirabelle asked, rubbing her forehead.
“Happy November, sister witch.”
Chapter 7
Just when Mirabelle thought she might have some free time to lounge about, Anona decided it was time to switch into full-gear, in terms of studying witchery.
“I have so many books you should read,” she said, opening the trunk. “How much do you have left of the creatures book?”
“About two-thirds still.” Mirabelle answered, peaking over Anona’s shoulder at the thick tomes she rummaged through.
“You’ve barely scratched the surface? I thought you would be a fast reader considering you want to major in English Literature.” Anona complained.
&
nbsp; “The book is over 1,000 pages! The first one hundred pages were on how to properly greet the Queen of the High Court if I ever meet her.”
“All useful information. And you should be taking notes. After you finish with that book,” she ran her fingers over the spines of several, “perhaps a change of pace and some herbology work? No formalities here, mostly just lists of herbs and what they can be used for.”
“That sounds like a nice change of pace.” Mirabelle rooted through the trunk, uncovering a book called Discovering Your Inner Goddess. “Is Matthew coming over today?”
“Not that I know of,” Anona paused, “Have you talked to him since the Samhain kiss?” Mirabelle shook her head.
“He acted so strangely, I don’t want to face him just yet. I am hoping I can just let a ton of time pass, and then we can pretend like it never happened.”
“Matthew lives by a different set of rules than most guys his age; he’s insanely responsible. You are probably the first ‘fun’ thing he’s had in a while. I imagine giving into a feeling that normal twenty year olds do constantly threw him off. He was probably worried his entire system would crumble.” Anona explained. “By the way, I made you an appointment.”
“With a doctor or dentist?” Mirabelle grimaced.
“Neither. You have an appointment with Dottie, my mentor and Seer.”
“Will she be able to tell me what kind of witch I am?” Mirabelle asked, suddenly perking up.
“Maybe. But she will definitely be able to tell you a little more about your path. And as a thank you for all the help you’ve given me, I am going to let you spend fifty whole dollars in her shop. Trust me, it doesn’t go too far; I know from experience.”
Welcome to Witchhood (Sister Witches Book 1) Page 7
