A Witch of a Time

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A Witch of a Time Page 30

by Amanda M. Lee


  He was trying to be cute. “No,” I said.

  “I don’t get what we’re supposed to be doing.” One of the boys, a blue-eyed teenager with black hair and an impish grin, focused on me. “Are we building little marshmallow sandwiches here?”

  “Haven’t you ever had a s’more?”

  “I’m from the city, lady,” the boy said. “Our sandwiches have meat and mayonnaise on them – like they’re supposed to.”

  Boys were a mystery to me. Our family had always been made up of girls. Sure, we dated and married men, but our offspring were always of the female persuasion. I was used to the highs – and lows – of raising a petulant girl. A mouthy boy was a whole other animal.

  “Do you like chocolate?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Do you like marshmallows?”

  Another nod.

  “Do you like graham crackers?”

  The boy rolled his eyes and sighed. “I see where you’re going with this,” he said. “You’re saying if I like those three things separately, I should like them together.”

  “You’re a smart kid,” I said, smiling.

  “Hold that thought,” the boy said. “I also like tomato soup, bacon and cola. Those things aren’t going to taste good together.”

  He had a point. Crap. “Eat your s’more.”

  “You don’t have a lot of patience, do you?”

  Terry’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he watched us interact.

  “I happen to think I have a great deal of patience,” I said. “It’s just that smart-mouthed kids give me a headache.”

  “Then you must live in constant pain,” the boy said. “You’re surrounded by smart-mouthed people.”

  “Eat your s’more.” I left Terry to his wards – and his silent laughter – and made my way to the other side of the bonfire, where I could watch all the kids without straining my neck.

  A glance at Bay, Clove and Thistle told me they were enjoying themselves. They took turns putting s’mores together for Aunt Tillie, and even though they were isolated in their own little world, the four of them seemed to be having a great time.

  I studied the other girls. They’d separated themselves into little groups, which is the way of teenage girls. Things would only get worse as they got older. The Winchester girls were always in their own little group, as was Lila.

  Hey, speaking of Lila, where did she go?

  I scanned the crowd again. She was gone. So was Rosemary. Well, that couldn’t be good. I was about to alert Marnie when Bay turned sharply and stared at the dark spot over her shoulder.

  Instead of asking Bay what she saw, I strode to the area to search it myself. If Lila and Rosemary were there plotting something, I was going to nip it in the bud. When I got to the spot in question, though, it was empty.

  I checked a few of the bushes, even searched under the picnic tables to make sure no one was hiding there. Nothing.

  I jumped when a hand come down on my shoulder. I knew it was Terry before turning around.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I noticed Lila and Rosemary were missing, and then Bay shifted and I swear she was staring at something over here. I was making sure something bad wasn’t about to happen.”

  Terry nodded, understanding washing over his face. “You think Rosemary and Lila are going to make a scene?”

  “I think that teenage girls like drama,” I said. “Evil teenage girls like evil drama.”

  “Well, let’s find them,” Terry said. “I’m not particularly worried about the evil, but I’m not thrilled with the idea of those two wandering around the woods on their own.”

  “Do you think something could’ve happened to them? Do you think they could’ve been kidnapped?” Marnie calls me an alarmist. I see it, but I can’t stop myself from doing it.

  “I think anyone who tried to kidnap them would throw them back within five minutes,” Terry said. “I’m more worried that they might get lost in the woods. Those aren’t the type of girls who can survive on their own.”

  “Are you worried wolves might eat them?”

  “They’re more likely to eat the wolves,” Terry said. “I am worried one of them could rip their clothes and lose their mind, though.”

  He makes me laugh. I can’t help it. He has a dry sense of humor, but he’s always funny. “Well, maybe they went back to their cabin.”

  “In an ideal world, they’d be in bed,” Terry said. “We don’t live in an ideal world, though. Let’s … .”

  He was cut short when a chorus of screams erupted around the bonfire. We both turned quickly, scanning the flailing and screaming kids for the source of their panic.

  It didn’t take me long to see the reason. Lila stood in the middle of the group, her face powder white and fake blood dripping down the side of her head. She’d made herself up to look like a deranged china doll. While most of the kids scattered to give her room to work, signifying they realized what was going on, Bay remained seated.

  Lila jumped at her, extending her fingers and clawing at the side of Bay’s face. In her haste to get away, Bay tipped her chair, her legs tangling with the plastic at the bottom of the chair and causing her to fall to the side.

  The second Bay hit the ground, the rest of the girls – and most of the boys – erupted into hysterical laughter.

  “Oh, man, did you see her face?” one of the boys asked.

  Lila, clearly proud of herself, high-fived Rosemary. “I told you I would get you back,” she said, glaring down at Bay.

  Thistle and Clove were on either side of Bay, but they had trouble hoisting her to a standing position. Like a pack of wild hyenas, a bevy of the girls filled the space behind Lila, pointing in Bay’s direction, laughing.

  Bay’s face was hard to read, but I could see the unshed tears glittering in her eyes. Before I could make a move to go to her, though, the dark-haired boy pushed the girls out of the way and kneeled next to Bay.

  “You guys are so stupid,” he said. “That wasn’t even scary. She didn’t fall because she was scared. She fell because she got tangled in the chair. Stop being idiots.”

  My earlier ire with the smart-mouthed s’mores boy evaporated. He may be mouthy, but he was also brave. He didn’t care what the other kids thought about him. He only cared about doing the right thing.

  “What’s his name?”

  Terry shrugged. “I can never keep their names straight. I just call them all ‘son’ and hope I don’t offend them. I see too many faces.”

  “He’s a good kid,” I said.

  “That’s probably why he decided to help the other good kids,” Terry said. “Do you want to do something with Lila?”

  “If I go after her, it’s just going to reinforce her status at camp,” I said. “It’s better to ignore her.”

  “That’s progressive thinking.”

  “It is,” I said. I squeezed his hand briefly and then moved back toward the fire. Bay was back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest, as Thistle leaned in and whispered in her ear. If they weren’t plotting something before, they definitely were now.

  Aunt Tillie shuffled up beside me. “This is my fault,” she said.

  “It’s Lila’s fault,” I replied. “I’m trusting you to fix it.”

  Aunt Tillie’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Keep it quiet,” I said. “Let Lila have her suspicions that it was the four of you, but don’t let her be able to prove it.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Aunt Tillie said, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “Can I do whatever I want?”

  “Go nuts,” I said.

  Aunt Tillie was already moving.

  “Oh, Aunt Tillie?”

  She paused long enough to give me a quick look over her shoulder. “I want them to cry.”

  “Consider it done.”

  What had I just done?

  Seven

  “Should we wake up the kids or let them
sleep?” Marnie asked, casting a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the quiet cabins the next morning.

  After an uneventful evening – other than Lila’s prank at the bonfire – the boys left to go to their own camp and the girls retired to plot another day. I couldn’t say I was sorry for the quiet, although I was worried about the events I’d set in motion the night before.

  “Let them sleep,” I said.

  “What’s bothering you?” Marnie asked. “Is it what Lila did to Bay? I honestly don’t think Bay was scared. I think she was trying to put some distance between her and Lila. I think she was more embarrassed about tripping than anything else.”

  “I’m not happy about that,” I said. “That’s not what’s bothering me, though.”

  “Do you want to tell me, or do you want me to guess?”

  “I told Aunt Tillie to go after them last night,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “Lila and Rosemary.” I was mortified by my actions, embarrassed. What grown woman gives another adult free rein to terrorize children?

  “Good,” Marnie said.

  Okay, what other grown woman? “You don’t think I acted immaturely?”

  “I think when you’re dealing with teenagers constantly it’s hard not to let the immaturity affect you,” Marnie said. “I wouldn’t worry about it. After last night, Aunt Tillie was going to go after them anyway. You didn’t push her toward anything.”

  “I told her to make them cry.”

  Marnie snickered. “Well … we’ll keep that little tidbit to ourselves.”

  “What do you think she’s going to do?” I was almost afraid to ask.

  “She’s not going to do anything that puts them in physical danger,” Marnie said. “She’s mean. She’s not stupid.”

  “I still told her she could do it.”

  “You can’t give Aunt Tillie permission to do anything, just like you can’t forbid her to do anything,” Marnie said. “She’s going to do what she’s going to do.”

  “What are we talking about?” Twila asked, setting a large bowl on the center of the table. “Where are the eggs, by the way?”

  “They’re in the refrigerator inside the cabin,” Marnie said.

  “No, they’re not,” Twila said. “I checked. They’re all gone.”

  “We had like twelve dozen eggs,” Marnie said. “Where could they all go?”

  Uh-oh. I shifted my attention to the first cabin – the one Rosemary and Lila slumbered in. “They were there last night,” I said. “I saw them when I put the leftover chocolate bars in before going to bed.”

  “They’re not there now,” Twila said. “Who would have taken all those eggs?”

  Marnie was already joining my thought train. “Has anyone seen Aunt Tillie this morning?”

  “I didn’t see her last night, either,” I said. “After I talked to her by the bonfire, she kind of … disappeared.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Twila said. “I’m sure she’s just … .”

  The morning quiet was shattered by the sound of screaming. I pressed my eyes shut briefly, hoping against hope I was still asleep and this was a dream. Marnie pinching my arm to bring me back to reality shattered that illusion.

  “We have to go see what it is,” Marnie said. “You know that.”

  “This is all my fault.”

  “This is Lila’s fault,” Marnie said. “Let’s go see what karma delivered her.”

  WE were careful when we entered the cabin, making certain to look above our heads and below our feet before taking a step. Aunt Tillie is a master trapper, and I wasn’t sure whether all of her “surprises” were already sprung.

  Lila stood in the center of the room, cotton shorts and a tank top covering her thin body. That wasn’t all that was on her, though. There was something else. A weird … paste.

  None of the girls in the first cabin were unscathed, although Lila and Rosemary clearly bore the brunt of the attack. The paste looked as though it had dropped from the sky, dispersing evenly. Something told me this little gift was delivered magically, although proof of that would be impossible to find.

  Even though the paste was still fresh, it gave off a pungent odor. As I stared at Lila’s face I realized it was also changing color. It was darkening and … wow … it’s starting to smell like someone died in here.

  “I’m guessing this is where all the eggs went,” Marnie murmured.

  “It smells awful,” Twila said, pinching her nose. “It’s like … skunky.”

  “I think it smells like a dead body,” I said.

  “Really? I think it smells just like rotten eggs,” Marnie said.

  “Are you going to do something about this?” Lila asked, her hair swinging as she swiveled to face us. “All our stuff is covered in this … crap. We smell.”

  I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. “Well, we didn’t do it,” I said. “What do you want us to do about it?”

  “Someone did it to us,” Lila said. “I’m betting it was your loser daughter and her loser cousins. She did it as payback for the china doll thing last night.”

  “Did anyone see Bay, Clove and Thistle in here last night?” I asked.

  No one raised their hands, causing Lila to frown. “I saw them.”

  “Did you really?”

  “I did,” Lila said. “They came in here and they dumped all of this stuff on us. Then they snuck back out.”

  “If you saw them sneak in here, why didn’t you tell me last night?” I asked.

  “I … .” Lila was having trouble coming up with a lie. Instead, she absent-mindedly started scratching her arm. “They must have drugged me,” she said finally. “I saw what was happening, but there was nothing I could do about it.”

  “They drugged you? How did they manage that?”

  “How should I know?” Lila started scratching harder. “They’re evil witches. They have ways of doing things. They probably hypnotized me before they did it.”

  Lila was really digging her fingernails into her arm now. I moved toward her, being careful to step around the paste, and grabbed her hand away from her arm. “Why are you scratching like that?”

  “I … I don’t know,” Lila admitted. “I’m itchy.”

  Uh-oh. I think the paste was more than just ugly. I studied Lila’s arm, being careful not to touch the red bumps that were lifting. “You have poison oak.”

  “What?” Lila screeched, ripping her arm away. “How did that happen?”

  I had an idea. I glanced around the cabin. “Are all of you itchy?”

  They nodded.

  “Okay,” I said. “Um … I think you need to go down to the lake and rinse off. We can’t take a good look at you until we can see what we’re looking at.”

  “I want Bay punished for this,” Lila said. “This is not funny.”

  “You have no proof Bay did this.”

  “I told you I saw her. Ow!” Lila’s hand flew up to her face and she started furiously scratching at her cheek.

  Every lie Lila told increased her discomfort. This had Aunt Tillie written all over it. She was known to build lessons into her curses. This one was almost inspired.

  “Go down to the lake and rinse off, Lila,” I said. “We’ll try to find something to help with the itching.”

  “The only thing that’s going to help with the itching is Bay being punished,” Lila said. “I saw her and I want her punished. She’s evil. Evil. Evil. Ow!”

  Lila’s hand drifted to the spot between her eyebrows, and even as she scratched I saw red bumps start to rise. The spell was ongoing. I wasn’t sure washing off the paste would fix it.

  “Go rinse off, Lila,” I said. “We have to take this one step at a time.”

  “DO they all have poison oak?” I kept my voice low as I grouped with Marnie and Twila near the picnic tables.

  “Everyone in the first cabin has some form of it,” Marnie said. “Conveniently, the girls who have had the least amount of contact with our girls h
ave the smallest amount.”

  “And Lila has it the worst,” I finished.

  “Rosemary has it pretty bad, too,” Twila said. “She hasn’t said a lot, though. Lila’s keeps getting worse every time she opens her mouth. Rosemary has been quiet.”

  “Maybe she’s thinking evil thoughts,” Marnie suggested. “That sounds like something Aunt Tillie would do.”

  “Where is Aunt Tillie?” I asked.

  Marnie pointed. I glanced in the direction she indicated, shaking my head when I saw my elderly aunt standing under a tree with Bay, Clove and Thistle grouped around her. They were watching the show, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

  “What do you think?” Twila asked. “Did they do it?”

  “I’m narrowing down my field of suspects to the four over there who had access to the eggs,” I said. “They needed the eggs to make that paste. I’ve never seen anything like that, by the way. Do you remember reading about that paste in any of our magic books?”

  “I think that was something Aunt Tillie created all on her own,” Marnie said. “You should know that the smell is hanging around even though they washed all the paste off and changed their clothes.”

  “What about the cabin?”

  “It’s still a mess.”

  I rubbed the heel of my hand against my forehead. “Well, I’m not cleaning that up … and we know Aunt Tillie isn’t going to clean it up.”

  “I suggest we make them clean it up,” Marnie said.

  “That’s not going to go over well.”

  “I don’t care,” Marnie said. “It has to be done, and none of us are doing it. I’ll tell them what’s going on once you’re out of here.”

  “Out of here? Where am I going?”

  “You’re taking Bay, Clove and Thistle for a hike,” Marnie said. “Until this … calms down … Lila is going to be a wreck. I think our girls should be away from the camp for a few hours.”

  “What if it’s still a mess tonight?”

  “Then we’ll deal with it then,” Marnie said. “You take our girls – and Aunt Tillie, if you can convince her to go, although I don’t think that’s likely – and spend a few hours looking for Bay’s ghost. It will give you something to do.”

 

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