Nature of the Witch

by Helen T. Norwood

  His chest felt heavy as he thought of them. Perhaps it would be better not to remember. After all, wasn't that why he'd forgotten in the first place? Because it had all been too painful. But back then he had been a little boy. Now he was a fully grown man and he needed to find out what had happened that night.

  When he finally rose from the table his joints were stiff. He stretched and headed for the shower. He put the water on full power and lifted his face to feel the force of the spray. Perhaps he was hoping it would knock some sense into him. He stood perfectly still until he felt as the hot water enveloped him and the small bathroom filled with steam. He stayed there until he had reached a decision.

  Then he slowly dried and slipped into some clothes. All the while he thought about what he needed to do. He packed a few things into a small overnight bag . Then he took a deep breath and asked himself a philosophical question. If a crazy stranger says random things about witchcraft and a guy's destiny and then the aforementioned guy travels for five hours to see the stranger again to ask questions he probably won't know the answers to about people who died over fifteen years ago, which of them is in fact the crazy one? With that question in mind he headed to his car and hit the road. He should be in Cornwall by lunchtime.

  Jack drove straight to Cornwall without stopping. He contemplated stretching his legs and grabbing a bite to eat, but had a feeling that if he stopped he would come to his senses and turn back. Traffic was light and he made it in just over four hours.

  However, he did stop once he'd crossed the border. He drove past the 'kernow a'gas dynnergh' sign (Welcome to Cornwall) and an inexplicable sense of peace settled over him. He took a deep breath and, as his lungs expanded and cleared, so did his head. For the first time since he'd left the house that morning he felt confident he was doing the right thing and that he was where he needed to be. Although he was aware that that in itself made no sense, because what he was doing was completely bonkers.

  He found a newsagent and bought a map, a sandwich and an apple. He also used a phone box to call one of his workers, who was relieved to hear from him. He apologised for not being in touch and told him that something had come up and that they could take a couple of paid days off, which was news well received.

  As he got back in the car he wondered whether it might be a good idea to purchase one of those mobile phone things he'd heard about recently but then shook his head. It would probably be a waste of money. He spread the map over the steering wheel and munched on his sandwich as he examined it. Kitto lived just outside of Truro and Jack had plotted a route in no time. Then he sat back and took in the views as he finished eating.

  He had never been to Cornwall but then again he had never been to many places. There wasn't much opportunity as a child and after that he'd just been too busy working. He'd been building up his business and hadn't really thought about getting away. The first holiday he'd had was with a previous girlfriend. They'd spent a week in Egypt. He wasn't sure why but he'd felt slightly uncomfortable until he got home again.

  This, however, was different. He knew it as he gazed around at the beautiful and rugged landscape. It was the strangest feeling, as though there was no rush to get home because he was already home.

  Finding Kitto's address wasn't an issue, it was finding the house that was the problem. It seemed as though he drove up and down the road for an eternity before he finally noticed a little dirt track. He managed to get his car part of the way up before it became too overgrown and he was forced to stop. He climbed out and frowned at the dense shrubbery that was blocking him.

  He left the car and walked a little further. He trampled his way through to a patch of trees and was about to give up and turn back when he spotted a house set against a dramatic backdrop of rolling hills and open expanse of land dotted faintly with animals. At that moment a violent gust of wind blew and Jack gripped a tree to steady himself. He was struck by a sense of remoteness; there were no fences, no front or back garden, someone had just plonked a house in the wilderness. He moved closer but on seeing the state of the building he sighed, this wasn't it. The place was a dump; no way anyone lived in it.

  He could see potential though. Not only did it have breath-taking views but the house itself looked large and full of character. It was made from granite and had probably been built in the early 1900's or possibly late 1800's. At that time it would have looked very grand but neglect now meant that the brickwork was dingy and chipped, with dry, brown vines creeping up the walls at various places. There was a large withered bush at the front of the house that was so overgrown it looked as though it were conducting a sneak attack on the building and in time would encase it in its twisted branches. The windows were boarded up and there was a hole where the front door should've been. Judging by the level of disrepair, it hadn't been lived in for years.

  He was about to leave when to his surprise Kitto emerged smiling and signalling for him to enter. Jack hesitated but only for a moment, then he took a deep breath and followed him in. The inside of the house was even worse than the outside. He was hit by a strong, musty odour, probably caused by the damp which made the walls a mouldy grey colour. Someone had sprayed a rude word along the hallway and he had to be careful where he trod as the exposed floorboards were rotten and broken in places. He followed Kitto through to what he supposed was the living room although a significant lack of any furniture made it hard to be sure.

  A blanket had been spread out in the corner with a pillow so maybe Kitto used it as the bedroom. He wouldn't blame him, he hadn't seen them yet but he couldn't imagine the stairs were particularly stable.

  The windows were boarded up which blocked out the sunlight so there were various candles dotted about the room, some teetering rather precariously and violating any sensible fire regulations.

  “Are you squatting here?” Was the first thing Jack asked.

  “This is my home,” Kitto replied proudly, “beautiful, isn't it? Did you find it okay?”

  “No of course I didn't find it okay; you live at the end of a well concealed dirt track in a derelict house.”

  “It's not derelict,” Kitto corrected him amicably, “derelict is an abandoned building which this house isn't because I live here.”

  “Ok,” Jack said, wondering what on earth had possessed him to come and see this man who was so obviously a sandwich short of a picnic, “do you live here legally?”

  “Of course,” Kitto said indignantly, “I own it. I only bought it recently and granted it needs a little work…”

  Kitto ignored Jack's snort, “but it'll make an excellent base.”

  “Base?” Jack repeated “Base for what?”

  “For us of course, for your training,” Kitto sat down on the blanket in the corner of the room, “now do you need a hand bringing in your stuff or shall I make us a cup of tea?”

  Jack was aghast at the misunderstanding, “Oh I'm not staying long, it's just a brief visit. I mean I have to get back to work…I wanted…” he paused, “actually, I'm not entirely sure why I'm here, just for a chat I suppose. You see, you were right.”

  “About your mother?” Kitto asked quietly.

  Jack nodded, “I was there like you said and I can remember it. I just thought we could talk and then I'll get back on the road and head home, I won't stop long.”

  Kitto smiled at him knowingly and Jack wasn't sure whether to feel annoyed or sorry for Kitto who genuinely seemed to believe that he would be moving in with him.

  No way I'd spend a night under this roof, Jack thought.

  “So tea then,” Kitto got back on his feet and clapped his hands together, “before you hit the road.”

  “Please,” Jack said politely although he dreaded to think what state the mugs might be in, “you have a kettle?”

  “Of course I have a kettle. I'm not completely uncivilised.”

  “Shall I give you a hand?” Jack asked courteously.

  “No need,”Kitto gestured at his blanket in the corner, “why don'
t you take a seat? I'll look for another chair, I'm sure I've got one somewhere.”

  He wandered out and Jack loitered for a moment before deciding that if he wanted answers from Kitto he needed to keep him on side so he gingerly sat down on Kitto's blanket. He shifted uncomfortably as he felt the coldness of the floor seep through to his backside.

  He was surprised when Kitto returned carrying two pristine white porcelain tea cups and saucers. He handed one to Jack and there was a rich tea biscuit next to his cup.

  “Thanks,” he said, “so does this mean you have electricity?”

  Kitto shook his head, “Part of the reason I like the place so much. I'm not keen on electricity. It's…” he paused and searched for a word, “…distracting. It's also unnecessary; I have a camping stove which I use for cooking and for making tea. There is a gas cooker in the kitchen but I haven't been able to get it working yet.”

  No electricity. That explains the lack of a phone number then, Jack thought.

  Kitto popped back out for a moment and when he returned he carried a rusty looking fold-up chair that Jack wouldn't trust to support the weight of a child let alone a fully grown man. Kitto flopped down into it and to Jack's surprise the chair remained intact.

  “I can't imagine life without electricity,”Jack said making conversation.

  “Well I'm used to it or should I say not used to it,” Kitto smiled, “what you never have you can't miss.”

  Jack wasn't sure he believed that Kitto had never had electricity; unless he grew up in a cave.

  “I'm not sure that's true,” Jack stared into his tea, “about not missing what you've never had.”

  Kitto was silent for a moment and when Jack looked up again he found him watching him.

  “You're talking about family,” Kitto said gently, “but you did have a family once. It may have been a long time ago but you never forget the people you've loved.”

  “I forgot,” Jack said feeling ashamed, “I spent years not remembering a thing about them.”

  “You didn't forget,” Kitto told him reassuringly, “you just didn't actively remember.”

  Jack laughed sadly, “Not actively remembering sounds an awful lot like forgetting to me.”

  Kitto shook his head, “They were always in there, the memories, they just needed unlocking. Now that you've started to remember the rest of your memories will come back to you as well.”

  Jack shocked himself as he said, “Some already have. To be honest I'm not sure I want them to.”

  He tried to elaborate but couldn't bring himself to say how painful it all was. Why remember loved ones that he would never see or know again? Why remember the life he was supposed to have? He could recall those final moments and that was enough, he didn't want to be tormented by memories of a childhood that was so cruelly snatched from him.

  He went to explain this to Kitto but then stopped. Why on earth was he telling him all this stuff? It wasn't the type of thing he even liked to think about, let alone talk about and yet suddenly he was spilling his heart out like a schoolgirl at a sleepover.

  “So,” Jack said quickly, “I guess I wanted to ask you how you knew that I was there the night of the accident, how you knew that I'd start to remember and how you knew that my mum…”, Jack faltered.

  “Tried to protect you,” Kitto finished for him.

  Jack nodded.

  “I was alerted to your existence but by the time I reached you your parents were already dead. I visited the crash site and, you see, when a person sacrifices their own life to protect someone else it emits a certain aura. I recognised the aura straight away. You don't have to be a witch to read an aura. An aura helps you to sense the emotions so I sensed the fear, yours, your mothers, I sensed the pain and other things…” he sighed, “but I don't know exactly what happened that night. I don't know who killed your mother. I'm sorry.”

  Jack was quiet for a moment before rubbing his eyes exasperated, “An aura?” He repeated.

  “That's right,” Kitto confirmed patiently, “I know you want answers and so do I. We can find them together but you must be patient. You need training and most importantly your first priority has to be the sanctity of the brotherhood of the Gwithiaz and everything we stand for, namely the protection of the purest practitioners of witchcraft, the Daughters of the Earth.”

  Jack let his head fall into his hands. He should never have come, it was a wasted trip. Kitto didn't know anything and he wasn't going to get any sense out of the man.

  He rose to his feet, “I think I'd best be going.” He made his way quickly towards the door, remembering his manners at the last moment and adding, “Thanks for the tea.”

  He walked briskly back to his car, half expecting Kitto to chase after him and beg him to stay to learn how to fight mystical creatures. But Kitto didn't try to stop him and Jack climbed in and started the engine. He sat still for a moment and listened to the sound of the wind blustering against the car. Then suddenly he turned the engine off.

  Someone murdered my mum, he thought, and I need to find out who. Kitto, as crazy as he is, is the only person who believes me.

  It was early evening and even though every brain cell told him to take off now, get something to eat, drive home and never think about Kitto again, he didn't. He suddenly felt very sleepy and pushed his chair back, closed his eyes and let himself drift to sleep.

  Chapter Six

  He was awoken the next morning by the sound of someone banging on his car window. He opened his eyes and jumped when he found Kitto peering in at him.

  “I've made breakfast and the kettles on,” he called through jovially and then turned back towards the house.

  “I should've left when I had the chance,” Jack muttered. He again contemplated leaving but his tummy was rumbling and, if he was truthful, he knew he wasn't ready to head home just yet.

  He opened the door and fell out groaning. It took great effort and lots of back-clicking to straighten himself out.

  Note to self, if you stay another night, book a hotel, he decided.

  It was still dark and Jack couldn't see his watch. It started to rain, not the type of rain that increases gradually but the type that goes from dry to torrential in seconds. He ran through the shrubs and past the trees as it hammered against his body. He burst through the open doorway into the hall and then frowned. Actually it seemed wetter inside than it did outside.

  He dodged the various leaks in the ceiling and found Kitto in the living room/bedroom. To his delight he was handed a hot bacon sandwich. Then Kitto left and returned with a steaming cup of tea. Just what the doctor ordered after a rough night in the car.

  “Thanks,” he said before tucking in.

  Kitto sat on the blanket and gestured for Jack to have a seat in the rickety chair. Very slowly Jack sat down and held his breath for a moment, but when it didn't collapse he carried on eating. The candles were lit and filled the room with a faintly comforting glow on such a dark and wet winter's day.

  He noticed that Kitto had a bowl of porridge. “Didn't fancy bacon?” he enquired.

  “I'm vegetarian,” Kitto told him, “haven't eaten meat for…” then he laughed, “a long time.”

  “Are you sure you haven't slipped off the wagon, the vegetarian wagon that is?” Jack grinned. “Vegetarians don't usually keep bacon in the house.”

  “I bought it for you. And not to worry because I only bought it yesterday and it's been somewhere cold all night. Who needs a fridge?”

  It was so simple and yet Jack felt strangely touched by Kitto's small act of kindness, as well as a little baffled. Kitto had been so confident that Jack would come.

  “Thanks,” he said warmly, “so I think I'm going to hang around for a while longer. What are you up to today?”

  “I thought we'd start your training.”

  Jack decided that if he was going to stay there was no harm in humouring him, “Sure why not.”

  He took another mouthful of sandwich, “What time is it anyway?
”

  “Just gone five.”

  Jack grimaced and glanced at his watch to confirm, “That's a little early even for me. Why are we up at this time?”

  “Early bird and all that. We've got lots to do.”

  Jack finished his sandwich, “Yes training. OK, what do I have to do?”

  “Maintenance,” Kitto said decisively, “I think the house needs a bit of work doing to it.”

  That's an understatement.

  “My training is to help you fix up your house?” Jack asked cynically.

  “It's a part of your training, yes. I won't be here, I need to pop out but I'll be back later. I have tools you can use”

  He took Jack's plate and cup, “Make yourself at home. Running water is through an outside tap, the inside ones don't work at the moment. If you need more candles there's a box in the kitchen”

  Jack couldn't believe the cheek of the man when, moments after they'd finished breakfast, he disappeared out the front door with nothing but a cheerful wave over his shoulder, no explanation about where he was going or when he'd be back apart from 'going out' and 'be back later.' He left Jack holding a worryingly ancient looking tool box.

  “The old guys not as crazy as he makes out,” Jack mused, “reckon I've been royally had here.”

  The tool box had rusted into an orangey brown colour, the colour it had started out as was anyone's guess, and Jack creaked it open to discover that the tools inside were no better, some could've been even older than the box. He listened to the sound of the water trickling down various parts of the house and he looked around at the decaying walls and thought grimly, where do I start? I'd have better luck bulldozing the place and building it from scratch. Then he set to work.