Time of the Witch

by Mary Downing Hahn

  Ignoring Dad, Aunt Grace turned to me. "Do you want more chicken, Laura?"

  I shook my head. The way my stomach felt, I didn't think I'd want food for a week or more. "No, thanks," I said, "but I'll help you clear the table." Picking up Carol's plate and mine, I carried them to the sink.

  After we washed the dishes, Aunt Grace and I went out on the porch. Mom was lying in the hammock, gazing out across the valley at the sunset, and Dad and Carol were sitting on the steps, laughing at something Dad had just said. I sat down next to Daddy and leaned my head against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his after-shave lotion.

  "Hi, sweetie." Daddy gave me a little hug and ruffled my hair again. "Get the kitchen in good shape?"

  I nodded. "Of course. I'm an expert at cleaning up. Just think of all the times I've cleaned up your kitchen."

  Dad laughed, but Carol leaned around him, smiling, and said, "Isn't he the worst slob? Cleaning up after him is like cleaning up after a two-year-old!"

  I stared at her. How did she know what Daddy's kitchen looked like? Or did she mean his office was a mess too? "I thought you were his secretary, not his maid," I said, frowning at her.

  Her face flushed and she laughed, but before she could say anything. Daddy stood up and stretched. "Boy, it sure is a beautiful evening. Why don't we go for a walk?"

  Carol and I both got up, but it was Carol Daddy spoke to. "Where would you like to go? Down through the woods to the creek or just along the road?"

  Looking down at her sandals, Carol shrugged. "I think along the road would be best. These aren't exactly walking shoes."

  "Are you coming too?" Daddy turned to me, and there was something in his tone of voice that said he hoped I wasn't.

  I hesitated, trying to decide whether to go just to spite him or to say no and sulk. Aunt Grace intervened before I could say anything. "Why don't you stay here and keep your Mom and me company?"

  In the few seconds it took me to decide, Dad and Carol started walking across the lawn, their shadows stretching out behind them, long and thin, pinheaded, reaching almost to my feet. I started to go after them, but Aunt Grace caught my arm. "Come on, Laura, sit down and have a glass of iced tea with us."

  Angrily I pulled away from her and looked at Mom. She was still sitting in the hammock, adjusting the strap on her sandal, as if it were extremely important to get it just right. Turning my back on both of them, I sat down on the porch railing and watched Dad and Carol disappear around the curve in the road. Even from this distance I could hear Carol laughing, soft and silvery like a teenager.

  Aunt Grace went inside and brought out a tray of iced tea glasses. I took mine and sat where I was, my back to her and Mom, staring at the road and half-hoping I'd see Wanda come into sight. Behind me, I could hear the clink of ice in glasses and the soft voices of my mother and my aunt, talking about Jason. Gradually the conversation shifted away from my brother and I heard Mom ask Aunt Grace about Maude.

  "No, I haven't seen her for quite a while. When I first moved here, I used to see her nearly every day. She'd stop down there in the road and stare at the house till she saw me, then she'd wave her fist and curse at me. It was quite embarrassing, really, not to mention kind of sad. Poor old soul."

  "She hasn't bothered Jason or Laura, has she?"

  "Laura saw her one night in the road, going through her old routine in front of the house, but I told her not to worry about it. Every town has a borderline lunatic like Maude."

  "You really think she's harmless?" Mom's voice sounded so uncertain I turned around to look at her. That was a mistake of course, because they both stopped talking and looked at each other, obviously re-laying an adult message that meant I wasn't old enough to hear any more about Maude.

  "You don't need to stop talking on account of me," I said. "I know all about Maude. She's a witch; everybody around here knows that."

  I tried to look as blasé as possible because I wanted very much to hear more about Maude. All day long I'd been worrying about her, trying to decide what I should do about Jason. I wanted my parents to be here, but I was uneasy about a couple of things; one, of course, was Jason himself. I didn't like his being sick, especially if my visit to Maude was responsible for it. I also was uneasy about Carol and the way she seemed to come between Daddy and Mom. With her here, I didn't see how they were going to make up and decide they loved each other.

  "Laura, I told you that Maude is just an old woman, a little crazy but no more a witch than you or I," Aunt Grace said.

  "She hasn't said anything to you, has she?" Mom asked.

  I shrugged. "I've only seen her a couple of times," I said evasively.

  "I'd stay away from her if I were you," Mom said.

  "Why? Do you think she's going to put me in a cage and fatten me up for Sunday dinner?" I tried to make it sound like a joke, but I don't think I succeeded. There was something in my mother's voice that made me uneasy, some secret she was keeping from me.

  "She's a strange old woman, Laura, and she has a grudge against our family. I don't trust her and I don't want you to go near her." Mom looked at Aunt Grace. "I think you should've told her about Maude. Saying she's just a harmless old eccentric isn't enough, Grace."

  "Oh, Andrea, you surely wouldn't have wanted me to scare Laura with all that superstitious nonsense? I didn't want her to spend the whole summer here cowering in the yard, afraid to step off this property for fear of meeting Maude. I still resent Grandmother's scaring us half to death with her Maude stories when we were children."

  "What are you talking about? What Maude stories? Why were you scared of her?" My heart pounding, I leaned forward, my eyes on my mother. "Tell me, I want to know!"

  "It all started with your grandmother," Mom said.

  As she paused, obviously wondering where to begin, I interrupted. "With Grandmother? I thought Maude and Grandmother were friends."

  "Friends? Where did you get that idea?" Aunt Grace stared at me, puzzled.

  Feeling a little shaky, I said, "Maude told me; she said I looked just like Grandmother, that seeing me reminded her of their friendship, that she wanted to—" I paused, stopping myself just in time. "She wanted to be my friend," I finished lamely.

  "Well, they were friends once," Aunt Grace said, smiling at Mom. "Maybe Maude finally decided to forgive and forget. People often mellow as they get older."

  "How can you say that?" Mom stared at Aunt Grace. "She told Mother she'd never forgive her and she meant it. You know that Grandmother always blamed her for Mother's death." Mom's voice rose and she got up from the hammock. Pacing around nervously, she added, "And Grandmother said Maude had sworn revenge on all of us, that she said she'd make us all sorry someday."

  "Calm down, Andrea, you're scaring Laura. Look at her. She's as white as the frosting on a wedding cake." Aunt Grace put her hand on Mom's shoulder. "Why don't you go lie down for a while? This has been an exhausting day for you."

  Mom shook her head and pulled away from Aunt Grace. "Tell Laura about Maude, tell her now. I want her to know why I'm afraid of her. I want her to know why she should stay away from her." Mom sat down on the railing next to me and put an arm around my shoulders.

  Aunt Grace sighed and leaned against the railing on the other side of me. It was dark now. The stars were out and the moon hung low over the mountains. Behind me, in the tall grass in the field, a chorus of insects chirped and peeped, and the night air felt cool on my bare arms. But the goose bumps on my skin came from my mother's fear, not from the breeze.

  "First of all," Aunt Grace went on, "When your grandmother and Maude were little girls, they were good friends, absolutely inseparable, but as they grew into their teens, Maude got more and more moody. She'd always been very emotional and very domineering. Your grandmother followed her around like a little puppy, doing everything Maude wanted her to do, but she found it harder and harder to get along with Maude. Finally she started avoiding her, and Maude spent more and more time alone, wandering abou
t in the woods by herself, isolating herself from other people, getting stranger and stranger.

  "Then Mother heard rumors that Maude had apprenticed herself to an old woman up in the hills who claimed to be a witch. That scared Mother and she stopped seeing Maude altogether." Aunt Grace smiled at Mom. "Do you really want me to go on with this nonsense? I feel so silly talking about it."

  Mom nodded, tightening her arm around me. "Tell her about Dad," she said.

  Aunt Grace sighed. "Well, probably nothing more would have happened between Mother and Maude if they hadn't both fallen in love with the same man. Your grandfather. When he married Mom, Maude was furious. She visisted the house the night before the wedding and made a horrible scene, vowing all sorts of things and forcing Grandmother to call the sheriff just to get her out of the house. It must have been like a scene from a fairy tale. At any rate, Mom and Dad left Blue Hollow after the wedding and never came back." Aunt Grace shrugged. "What else is there to say?"

  "That Mom and Dad were killed in an automobile crash on their eighth anniversary," Mom said, "and that Grandmother always blamed Maude for their deaths."

  "Andrea, you know how superstitious Grandmother was. You're scaring Laura half to death with all this talk about witchcraft. She's trembling." Aunt Grace patted my knee. "Maude's full of spite and ill will, but she's no more capable of putting a curse on someone than I am."

  I shook my head, too upset to say anything. What had I done? I'd never felt comfortable around Maude; I'd never really trusted her, yet I'd gone to her house and helped her cast a spell for me. What was I going to do? How could I make Maude undo the spell?

  Without saying good-night, I slid off the porch railing and ran upstairs to bed.

  Chapter 13

  Unable to sleep, I lay curled in a ball under my covers, trying not to think about Maude and Jason. But all I saw when I closed my eyes was Maude bending over me smiling, her cold hand gripping my arm, her eyes probing mine, offering her help and lying to me, deceiving me, tricking me into betraying my own family.

  Was Jason going to die? If he did, it would be all my fault. I would be a murderer, my own brother's killer. It was a thought so horrible, I began to cry, burying my face in the pillow so no one would hear me and ask me what was wrong.

  Just as I was about to fall asleep, my door opened and I sat up, half expecting to see Maude standing by my bed.

  "Why, Laura, I thought you'd be asleep by now." Mom sat down on my bed and I threw myself at her, holding her tight, tears running down my face.

  "Laura, Laura, what is it? What's wrong?" Mom hugged me and patted me the way she used to when I was little. "Did you have a bad dream, honey?"

  "Is Jason going to die, Mommy? Is he?" I sobbed.

  "No, Laura, no. I'm sure he's going to get well." She held me so tight I could hardly breathe, but I could hear the fear in her voice.

  "Why don't they know what's wrong with him?"

  Mom shook her head. "One of the doctors thinks it could be a rare virus of some sort, hard to identify." Her voice trailed off indecisively and she stroked my hair back from my face. "He'll be all right, I know he will."

  "But suppose someone put a curse on him? Can doctors cure curses?"

  "Oh, Laura, Grace was right. I never should have made her bring up that stuff about Maude. We really frightened you, didn't we?" Mom looked at me closely, her face pale and worried.

  Picking at a design in my quilt, I said, "But you told Aunt Grace you believed it; you said your grandmother thought Maude made your parents get killed. Couldn't Maude put a curse on Jason?"

  Mom shivered. "Let's not think about it, Laura." Looking past me at the black night outside my window, she shook her head. "Spells, witchcraft, it's too much on top of everything else. I can't deal with it, Laura, I can't."

  Cuddling closer to her, I grasped her hand. "Will you stroke my arm till I fall asleep the way you did when I was little?"

  "Of course." Mom took my arm and stroked it lightly with her fingertips, up and down, soft and gentle. "Do you want me to sing too?" she whispered. "I still know the words to 'Now the Day is Over.'"

  "No, you don't have to sing, but I wish you could sleep here with me."

  She smiled. "Just relax and go to sleep, Laura. If you need me, I'll be right down the hall."

  She kept on stroking my arm, stroking and stroking, till I began to relax and feel safe. I must have drifted off to sleep while she sat on my bed, because I never knew when she stopped stroking my arm or when she left my room.

  When I woke up, the sun was shining in my eyes and the house was quiet. No Jason talking in the kitchen, no Jason running up the stairs to wake me, no Jason asking me to help him button his overall straps or tie his shoes. Missing him, I dressed quickly and ran downstairs, suddenly afraid that something awful might have happened while I was asleep.

  "Good morning, Laura." Aunt Grace was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. "Your mother and father have already gone to the hospital and Carol is still sleeping. Do you want something to eat?"

  I shook my head. "Just juice and coffee." Pouring myself a glassful of orange juice, I sat down across from my aunt. "Jason isn't worse, is he?"

  She shook her head. "I don't think so. Your mother said she'd call me around eleven and let me know how he's doing."

  I stared at the ceiling at a circle of light, trying to figure out what it was bouncing off. Moving a few things around, I decided it must be the shiny top of the salt shaker. I slid the shaker back and forth on the table, watching the circle of light dart across the ceiling.

  Aunt Grace distracted me from my little game, by getting up, coffee mug in hand. "I'm going to have a refill, Laura. How about you?"

  "No, thanks." I turned the shaker upside down and sprinkled a few grains of salt on the tabletop. Pushing them about with the tip of my finger, I made little patterns, swirls and circles, wondering all the time what I could do about Maude.

  "Well, I guess everybody was an early bird except me." Carol entered the kitchen, as perfectly made-up as she had been the night before. She was wearing a light blue polo shirt with an alligator sewn on the front and a pair of white jeans. "Mmmmm, that coffee smells just wonderful." She smiled as Aunt Grace handed her a steaming mug.

  Although Aunt Grace was wearing her hair piled in a knot on the top of her head, a faded pair of Levi's, and an old blue work shirt, I thought she looked much more interesting than Carol. Maybe it was her bones or the little wrinkles around her eyes.

  "You look so cute this morning, Laura," Carol said as she sat down next to me. "You're so lucky to have all that natural curl in your hair. You'll never need a permanent or anything."

  I forced myself to smile at her as I got up to rinse my coffee mug. Just then the phone rang.

  "That must be your mom." Aunt Grace picked up the receiver.

  Although she didn't say much more than yes, I knew it was bad news. I could tell by the expression on her face, by the way she held the phone, by her tone of voice.

  "He's worse, isn't he?" I asked as she hung up. Don't let him be dead, don't let him be dead, I prayed silently, vowing I'd go to Maude's at once and tell her to make him better.

  Aunt Grace shook her head. "He's not really worse, but he isn't better either and they still don't know what's wrong with him. Nothing they do seems to have any effect." Ignoring Carol's little clucks of sympathy, Aunt Grace sat down at her drawing table and stared at the picture of the squirrel, still unfinished. "What's really bothering your mother is Jason's incessant begging that she and your father stay married. He keeps saying, 'Don't get a divorce, don't get a divorce.' Andrea doesn't know what to do. She thought you all had adjusted to the divorce, that you understood."

  I shook my head, not knowing what to say. I didn't want to think about Jason lying in a hospital bed, sick and scared, begging Mom and Dad to love each other. It was horrible. Edging toward the door, I told her I was going over to Wanda's for a while.

  Aunt Grace looked
a little puzzled, but she let me go. Not wanting to waste any time, I took the shortcut through the woods. If I hadn't been in such a hurry, I probably would have seen Maude step out from the trees in front of me, but I was going so fast I had no chance to avoid her. Skidding to a stop to prevent myself from crashing into her, I stared at her, my knees weak, still panting from running.

  "Well, well, Laura Adams, we meet again, and in the sun's light." Maude chuckled and grasped my arm and Soot peered at me from her shoulder. "As I promised, I've brought your parents together, have I not? Your wish is about to come true, my dear, just as I said it would."

  "You made Jason sick to do it," I whispered. "I didn't want you to do that."

  She chuckled. "It was the only way, Laura. They don't love each other, your mother and father, but they'll stay together now because of Jason. Like ivy binding two trees together, he'll hold them till they rot. And they'll be miserable, Laura, miserable. They'll hate each other more and more every day till there's nothing left of them but their hate."

  I tried to pull away, but her grip was too strong. "Not so fast, Laura Adams, not so fast! Aren't you going to thank me for making your wish come true?"

  "Please undo it, please!" I cried.

  "No, no, what's done cannot be undone, Laura Adams!" She stepped closer to me. "Do you know how long I've waited for this moment? Over fifty years. Since your grandmother took John Randall away from me, I've waited for my revenge. If I'd had the power then that I have now, she'd never have gotten him. He would have married me!"

  Maude chuckled. "She didn't have him long, though, did she? It took me eight years, but I got her, and now I'm going to see all her descendants suffer too. Your mother will be chained to a man who doesn't love her and your aunt will never paint again. Her skill is gone along with the brush you stole. And Jason will never recover; crippled for life he'll be. And you, Laura, what's your punishment to be, eh?"

  She shook me and then let go of me so quickly that I reeled away from her and fell into the bushes beside the path. As I scrambled to my feet, she smiled at me. "Knowing you made my revenge possible is your punishment, Laura Adams." She bowed her head, still smiling. "Thank you, my dear, thank you so much."