“Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in?” Cynthia, the oldest witch, licked her fingers after she bit into her drumstick. She picked at her tangled gray hair. “What do you know, there’s my wand."
“This is quite unexpected.” Samantha, the prettiest of the three witches, let go of her floating fork. She straightened her black skirt and turned to look at the cat.
“Smells human and very fleshly,” sniffed Martha, the mature one, who rose up and pulled the front door wide open for the cat.
Tom, the family black cat, lugged the person inside. He tried to pry his paws from the man’s gray sweater. “Need some help here.”
“My, my. Someone’s in a mood.” Cynthia shoveled some peas and gravy mashed potatoes into her mouth. Before slipping off her brown stool, she snatched a fudge brownie.
She helped Tom get loose. "You have to detract your claws, dear."
"And you have to drop your brownie," Tom meowed.
Once he was loose, he sprang speedily away gathering his meal and drink. Why the rush?
Hops, the poisonous blue toad, who watched the whole event from the fridge leaped for the dinner table. “Yippee.”
“Gotcha, Hoppy! Good thing!” Martha caught her as she returned to her worn chair from opening the door. “Now, what would you like to eat?”
Hops, bug-eyed, wanted the carved turkey. Her slimy body wriggled about as Martha grasped her. "Turkey. Ribbit."
Everyone laughed. The two little twin werewolves scooted off their bench and tugged on Martha's dark skirt. "Can we hold her?"
Martha bent down, "Why yes you can. Hold Hops here. You and your sister can take turns."
Meanwhile, Cynthia lifted the head of the stranger Tom brought in. "Oh dear. TOM BARTHOLOMEOW THE FOURTH!!!"
"Why, who is it?" asked Samantha.
"Chris your ex!" she answered. Cynthia then tapped her wand to lift him up off the hardwood floor. "Over to the couch, please."
"MY EX!!! TOM!!!!" Samantha drew out her wand and sent magic to find the bad feline.
Tom had hidden in the book room past the dining room and the bedrooms. His heart beat a mile a minute. His glass of milk shook in his paw. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror. The hair on his head shot. He gulped another big spoon of mac n' cheese.
He whispered to himself, "I hope they get back together. I hope they get back together. I hope they...."
Tom felt chills. "Oh dang. Magic. Gotta run."
He scurried across the room and up the thick books placed purposely underneath the mirror. Then, ran into and through the mirror, down the reflected book steps, and through the reflected door. Only it didn't lead where you might have thought, it led to other locations.
The droning sounds whirred down. The magic dissipated. It didn't find the mischievous Tom.
"Darn that cat." Samantha disappointed, checked herself. "Well, what can I do now?"
"That cat has learned how to outwit us," said Cynthia who revived sleeping Chris with sprinkled water.
"Where did Tom go?" asked Boo, the ghost. "I could find him. After all, I can walk through walls."
"I think he went to hide," winked Marcus, the warlock. "He could be anywhere. Let's just enjoy our dinner. I know I am."
Marcus cut up his soft carrots easily, mixed them with his peas, and combined them with his chopped turkey. He loved how it tasted with a little gravy. He repeated his steps carefully.
"Me too," Boo replied, swallowing her hot cocoa and marshmallows. A little brown line showed floating above where her lips would be.
Meanwhile, Chris awoke, "Where am I? Smells delicious. Cyn? Sam??"
"Chris, why are you here?" Sam sat down next to him. "You broke my heart, you jerk."
"Is that for me?" He ignored what she said and eyed her dish of pumpkin pie.
"What! Noooo. Really why are you here?" Sam held her pie close.
"I don't know, Sam." Chris leaned closer.
"Did Tom put you up to this?" She ate a bit of her pie.
"No. You know how I feel about talking cats." Chris tried to grab the plate.
"Yes, I know. A talking cat is like...heyyy."
"Sorry, I was really hungry." Chris scarfed up the pie.
"Rude!" Frustrated, Sam stood up from the couch. "Let's go somewhere where we can be alone."
Sam teleported them to the top of the cauldron-shaped house. They stood on a huge oval rooftop with a black rounded parapet wall.
"Magic. Great." Chris rolled his eyes.
"You're just sad you're not at the feast."
"No, Sam. You think magic solves everything."
"No, I don't."
"Why am I even here?"
"Tom brought you here."
"Yes. The cat has magic too."
"Just great. Great."
"What do we do now?"
"Could you just zap me back home?"
"Why did you break up with me?"
"You’re a witch, Sam."
"So? What am I not seeing?"
"A witch. A real witch. How am I supposed to...how am I supposed to live with that?"
"What do you mean?"
"You could zap me into a frog. Or drop me in the desert. Your family could send me through time and you would never know it. There is nothing I have to. To even. Survive. What if you were lost, I could never find you."
"Chris, is that why you broke up?"
"Yes. I have nothing against magic."
"Yes, you do. You have love."
"What does love have that magic doesn’t?"
"First of all, you have a misconception about magic."
"How do you mean?"
"Magic isn’t like the tv sitcoms you see or the movies you see at the theater. Magic is complex and combines with love. It doesn't involve evil. Do you understand?"
"No. I don't think I do."
"Chris, I couldn't turn you into a frog. And my family couldn't strand you back in time. That is just plain silly."
In another place, through the mirror, curious Tom had walked into a room. It had a single lamp hanging over a white chair. There were books lined along the shelves. Light blue walls. And a door that led outside. He nudged the front door open and saw a wonderful kingdom in the distance. Something he hadn't seen before. In the horizon, a castle appeared to be made of wind chimes. It was very peculiar. He desired to see more but thought of his family. And Thanksgiving. And how he wanted to be with his family. He closed the front door, walked past the hallway and bedrooms, and entered the familiar book room.
"There is the mirror to take me back home." He smiled to himself.
He stepped up the books, into and through the mirror, walked down the reflected steps, and into the reflected hallway. And back into the dining room.
"Heyyyy, there's the kitty," noticed the twins.
"You're in a lot of trouble, mister," Martha scolded. "Bad Tom."
"I know. I know." He lowered his head.
"Why did you do it? You know how Sam felt," Cynthia reminded him.
"I just felt there was a chance. I overheard Chris talking about the breakup one day. And well. Where are they anyway?”
“Sam took Chris to be alone. Let’s see what happens when they get back,” said Cynthia. “Meanwhile, pull up chair and eat.”
“You won’t believe what I saw….”
The scene faded as Tom happily described his adventure to everyone at the Thanksgiving feast.