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Authors: Mary Downing Hahn

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #General

Time of the Witch (3 page)

BOOK: Time of the Witch
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For a long time, we squatted side by side shaping castles out of damp sand. All around us, birds sang in the woods. The shadows from the trees stretched over-us, dappling everything with greenish light, and the creek chattered away to itself as it ran over the stones, sparkling in the sunlight. It was so peaceful that I forgot about everything except my castle.

I was just finishing up my third tower, when I started getting a funny feeling. Looking over my shoulder, I expected to see Aunt Grace standing behind me watching me, but I didn't see anyone. Just the creek and the trees and the clouds in the sky.

"What's the matter?" Jason looked up at me. "Are you finished?"

I didn't want to scare him, so I didn't say anything about my feeling that someone was watching us. "It's getting awfully hot," I said. And it was. The sun had moved overhead, chasing the shade back into the woods. My T-shirt was sticking to my back and my hair was a hot weight on the nape of my neck. On top of the heat, every mosquito for miles around had decided I was a gourmet's delight. "Let's go for a walk or something, wade up the creek where it's shady."

"I want to stay here," Jason said.

Jumping up, I shoved my foot through my castle. My towers crumbled and fell, and I smoothed the rest of it flat with my foot.

"Why did you do that?" Jason asked.

"It was a dumb castle and I was tired of it. Come on, let's do something else."

"No, I want to finish my castle." Jason squatted next to his castle, pouting.

I shoved my foot toward his walls. "Rummm, rummm, rummm," I said, making a rumbling engine sound. "Here comes the urban renewal bulldozer."

"No, Laurie!" Scuttling sidewise like a little crab, Jason thrust himself between me and his castle. "Stop it, Laurie! Don't wreck it!"

"Rummm, rummm, rummm." My foot grazed Jason's leg, gritty with sand. "Rummm, rummm, rummm!"

"Please, Laurie, please, it's my best castle!" Tears started spouting out of Jason's eyes the way they do in cartoons.

Feeling like a rotten bully, I stared down at him. "If I promise not to wreck your castle, will you go for a walk with me?"

"That's not fair. I don't want to go for a walk."

"Urban renewal is never fair," I said, remembering hearing Dad tell Mom something like that during an argument. "Life's never fair." I wiggled my foot under his leg, heading toward the castle again.

"Okay, okay!" Jason crouched next to his castle, his face red with anger. "But you better promise not to wreck it."

"I promise, Jasie. When we get back, I'll even help you dig a moat around it. How about that?"

Jason got up slowly, brushing his sandy hands on the seat of his shorts. "Which way are we going?"

"How about this way?" I pointed downstream and Jason followed me into the water, avoiding fallen branches and ducking under low-hanging bushes.

Picking up a leaf, I dropped it into the water. I watched the current snatch it up, whirl it around, and carry it away, whisking it past stones and hurrying it around snags. "Just think, Jason, if we were tiny, like Thumbelina, we could ride that leaf all the way to Washington, D.C."

"How do you know where this creek goes?" Jason scowled at me, still angry for being forced to leave his castle.

"Well, this creek dumps into a bigger stream and then a bigger one till it finally dumps into the Potomac River and the Potomac River goes right through Washington. You can see it from the top floor of Daddy's office building."

"I bet not many leaves get all the way to Washington." Jason pointed to a bunch of sticks jammed between two rocks. "See? Your leaf's already stuck."

I shrugged. "So? If we were riding on it, we'd steer around things like that."

Stepping over the snag, I splashed ahead of him, trying to ignore his whiny little voice complaining that I was walking too fast, that sharp stones were hurting his feet, that he wanted to go home. All of a sudden, I wanted to get away from him, from Aunt Grace, from all the safe sunny places where we usually played. I wanted to plunge into the wilderness and experience something strange; I wanted something to happen.

A movement in the leaves over my head caught my
attention. Looking up, I saw a crow perched on a limb curving over the water, his head turned toward me. He stared at me fearlessly, and I stopped, ankle deep in the creek, afraid to move until he flew away.

After a few seconds, the crow cawed loudly, still looking at me, and launched himself into the air. Without knowing why, I splashed after him, trying to keep his dark shape in sight.

Chapter 4

"It's getting too deep, Laurie," Jason whimpered. "I'm scared I'll slip and fall."

Up to my own knees in swirling brown water, I looked back at Jason. The creek had narrowed. On one side, a wall of rocks rose up steeply and on the other the bank was much higher than it had been. The jolly sound the water had made as it ran rapidly over pebbles in the sunlight had deepened into a melancholy gurgle.

"Let's go back," Jason pleaded. "I don't like it here. It's scary."

I looked across the stream. At the top of the bank I could see a path. "Why don't we climb up there and follow that path back? I'm tired of wading."

Jason looked worried. "Aunt Grace said we weren't supposed to cross the creek."

"So? She isn't here to see us, is she? And, anyway, she's not our mother. We don't have to do everything she tells us."

"But we might get lost." By now Jason was standing next to me, plucking at my shorts with one hand.

"How can we get lost? The path follows the creek.
Come on, Jason, my feet feel absolutely waterlogged. Look, they're all wrinkly, the way they get if you stay in the bathtub too long." I held up one foot and almost lost my balance. "Besides, this water is freezing cold."

To my relief, he followed me across the creek and I helped him climb up the bank. Just as I thought, the path wound along the creek, curving around tall pines and outcroppings of rock, barely wide enough for one person to walk on. With Jason behind me, I felt like an Indian scout creeping through the forest.

"This is a scary place," Jason whispered, stepping on my heels in his eagerness to keep up with me. "It makes me think of Hansel and Gretel. Are you sure we won't get lost?"

"Of course we won't get lost. Look, the creek's right there." I looked down at the water frothing along between the rocks and I felt uneasy, just the way I had when we were building our castles.

All around us, the pines rose tall and straight toward the sky, blocking out the sunlight, carpeting the ground with a cushion of brown needles. Here and there, between the trees, rocks shoved their way out of the earth, towering over our heads. Like trolls turned to stone, the rocks had a watchful quality, as if they were silently waiting for someone or something to bring them back to life.

I looked all around, trying to see if anyone was following us, but all I saw was a crow, perched on the limb of a pine tree over my head. His yellow eyes reminded me of Aunt Grace's painting and I made a shooing motion at him, willing him to fly away.

"What was that?" Jason grabbed my arm and I jumped, startled.

"What?" I stood so still I could hear my heart pounding.

"I thought I heard something behind us." Jason clung to my hand, staring over his shoulder.

"It was probably a squirrel or a bird." I looked around, hoping I'd see a squirrel dash up a tree trunk. "Where did you hear it?"

"Over there." He pointed off into the woods behind us, at a boulder rising out of a bed of fern, its face bearded with moss and spotted with lichen.

"Come on." I grabbed his hand and yanked him along behind me. I wanted to get back to Aunt Grace's house.

"Well, well, well, who have we here?" An old woman wearing a strange assortment of mismatched clothing stepped out of the woods ahead, blocking the path. Like a cat ready to pounce, she stared at us, leaning her weight on a walking stick that was almost as tall as she was.

Holding Jason's hand tightly, I stood still, trying to look her in the eye. "Good afternoon," I said, as politely as I could. I wanted to run past her, but my legs felt like boiled spaghetti, so I just stood there, staring at her, sure she was Maude Blackthorne and probably a raving maniac capable of anything.

"I know who you must be," she said, stepping closer to us. "I'd know that red hair anywhere. You must be Margaret's granddaughter. Laura, isn't it? Staying with your Aunt Grace for the summer."

This close, I could smell the musty odor of old clothes. Shrinking back against Jason, I nodded my head. "How do you know my name?"

The old woman chuckled softly. "I know many things, Laura. Would you ask the moon how it knows the
night's secrets? Or the roots of a tree how it knows the dark? I've seen you and Jason at the creek building your little castles and I've seen you sitting on Grace's porch in the evenings. Haven't you seen me, my dear?"

"On the road last night, I saw you then," I whispered.

"Ah, did you? I thought you might have, I thought it was your face at the window staring out at me."

"What were you doing there in the middle of the night?"

Maude chuckled again. "Walking about, walking about, up and down and round and round, enjoying the dark." Before I could duck away, Maude's hand shot out and grasped a few strands of my hair. "Such pretty hair, red like your grandmother's, long and wavy like hers. And your eyes, big and gray like hers. Pretty, pretty face like hers. Yes, seeing you brings back memories, memories of days when Margaret and I roamed these woods like sisters."

"We have to go." I backed away with Jason clinging to me. "It's time for lunch and Aunt Grace must be looking for us."

"What's this, Laura?" Maude leaned closer, staring at my T-shirt. "
I don't get mad, I get even,
" she crooned, tracing the words lightly with a long, jagged fingernail.

I drew back and folded my arms across my chest, wanting, too late, to hide my decal. "I bought it for a joke, to shock my mother," I said nervously.

Maude chuckled. "A joke, eh? I find it a rather interesting statement, my dear, one I quite agree with. Why, if I weren't such an old lady I'd go out and buy one myself."

She reached out and stroked my hair, untangling it with her strong fingers. "You must come to see me, Laura. I get lonely with no one to talk to. Your grandmother and I were such good friends, such dear friends. Please promise you'll come to see me. I live up there—see where the path goes?"

She pointed at a path so narrow I wouldn't have seen it without her help. "My little house is up at the top of the hill. There's not another house in sight, you can't miss it."

"I don't know," I stammered. I didn't want to hurt her feelings by saying no, but I certainly didn't want to go anywhere near her house.

"I'll make it worth your while," Maude said, bending so close to me I could see the pores in her wrinkled skin. "You see, I can help you, Laura. I know what you want and I can help you get it. I have the power to grant your wishes."

She leaned on her walking stick, her eyes probing mine as if she could read every thought hidden in their depths. "Come to me soon, Laura. I'll be waiting for you. In dark or in daylight, come to me and I'll help you for the sake of my old friend Margaret." Turning away, she struck off into the woods without looking back.

For a second, Jason and I stood still, staring at each other. Overhead, a crow cawed loudly and flew past us, taking the same direction as Maude.

"What did she mean, Laurie?" Jason looked up at me, his eyes huge.

"I'm not sure." I stared up the path after Maude, but she was already out of sight. Not a leaf rustled to mark her passing, not a branch stirred.

"You won't go to her house, will you?" Jason's voice trembled. "I'm afraid of her. She's not nice, I can tell."

"Come on, let's go back to Aunt Grace's." I didn't need to make that suggestion twice. For once, I had to hurry to catch up with Jason.

By the time we got home, we were almost dead from the heat and out of breath from running. Before we went inside, though, I grabbed Jason's arm and leaned down so I could look him right in the eye. "Don't tell Aunt Grace about seeing Maude, okay?"

"Why not?" Jason squirmed, trying to get away from me, but I squeezed his arm tighter.

"She told us not to cross the creek, remember? She'll punish us if she finds out we disobeyed her. You don't want to get a spanking, do you?"

Jason shook his head, his lip trembling. "No."

"Then keep your mouth shut about Maude. I mean it, Jason." I gave him a little shake and then released him so quickly he lost his balance and sat down in the grass. "Come on," I said, "let's go in and have lunch. I'm starved."

After lunch, Jason fell asleep on the living room couch and I sat down on a stool near Aunt Grace's drawing table to watch her paint. She was finishing up the crow, concentrating on adding highlights to his features. Sitting there looking at the painting, I realized whom it must have reminded my mother of. Maude, of course. Hadn't that crow followed her up the path like a dog following its owner?

Despite the afternoon heat, I shivered, remembering how often I'd seen a crow perched near Jason and me at the creek. As the sound of bees droning about the
flowers in the window box drifted into the kitchen, I thought of a book I'd read last year about witchcraft. In it, the author had said that a witch usually had a familiar in the shape of an animal or a bird, such as a toad, a cat, or a crow. If Maude were a witch, the strange things she'd said to me made sense.

"My, Laura, you look very preoccupied. Whatever are you thinking about?" Aunt Grace smiled at me as she swished her brush in a jar of water.

"Oh, nothing." I hesitated. "Looking at that crow reminded me of this witchcraft book I read. Do you believe in familiars and stuff like that?"

Aunt Grace smiled and shook her head. "No. I'm not the superstitious type. But up here you'll find people who take it quite seriously."

"Really? Did you ever know anyone who claimed to be a witch?" I thought I'd put that pretty subtly, so I leaned back and started doodling on a piece of scratch paper. I didn't want to look too interested in Aunt Grace's answer.

BOOK: Time of the Witch
10.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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