One who Knows

One who Knows

I had known from a young age that I was a witch. It was not something I had worked on. It just popped up one day and took me by surprise. Of course I had read stories about witches but did not believe in them with their cackling laughter and weird clothes, as depicted in the story books!

The power revealed itself to me when I had coveted my best friend’s doll, the one with the flowing golden locks, that you could comb and brush up into different hairstyles.

Sylvia kicked up a tremendous fuss when her mother said she had to give her favourite doll to the school bazaar.

“I won’t give her to the bazaar. How can you be so cruel? I hate you!” she sobbed.

 Sylvia knew from past experience, that what her mother decided to do, she did.

“But you have to learn to be charitable in this world, where so many have so little.”

I knew deep down, that it had been my doing that was the cause of surrendering Sylvia’s doll  to the school bazaar. I had been working on this for a while.   I had put my mind to it. It was not that Sylvia prevented me from playing with her doll, Venice,  it was because I wanted to have her to myself at home, so that I could talk to her. I wanted to speak to Venice when I was alone at night and in the mornings. I knew a thing or two about dolls.

It had taken a tremendous amount of effort to fully engage my mind on the matter.

I persuaded my mother to buy the doll for me (witches can be very persuasive) and so it was. Soon the boot was on the other foot and it was Sylvia who lived with the feelings of jealousy.

But even at that young age I felt the injustice of the outcome. The power that I seemed to have acquired was more than alarming. I pushed guilt aside and enjoyed the moment. It dawned on me as I  grew  older, that abuse of power, was not the way to go.

I had dreams sometimes and the things I  dreamed, came to pass. It was as if I had knowledge of what was going to happen. It was this,  that gave me feelings of unease. As time passed I made note of similar events.

There was the time when we all got lost in Caambie forest. There were five of us and the darkness came down swiftly and we knew that we were completely lost. The trees looked unfriendly in the dark and there were scurrying noises in the bushes. The cold damp air seeped into our clothes and clung to our hair. The forest paths were indistinguishable and a thick mist descended from the mountain top.

There were only the sisters, Marie and Claire and the two boys, John and Malcolm and myself. The only thing we had with  us, was an empty kettle. We could fill it with water and try to start a fire but we had lost our hamper with biscuits and tea and matches, when the baboons came down from the slopes. The animals had taken everything and left the empty knapsack on the ground.

I tried using my mind and energy. We needed food and warmth, to survive the night. It was bitterly cold. None of us had very warm clothing, having gone out with the careless abandonment of youth.

John had learned how to make a fire with a stick and a piece of dry, flat wood. This accomplishment was  freaking  useful  I must say. It took some time but eventually he got a flame, with quite a lot of help from me. He put the flame to the untidy bunch of twigs, leaves and logs, we others had collected from the forest floor, under his direction and the fire started.

The next thing was food. We were all starving from walking on the mountain all day.

I concentrated very hard and just as I was going to give up, a wild fowl crossed the clearing. John again, came to the rescue, catching and wringing it‘s neck. It is called bushcraft , as against witchcraft. He had not been a World Champion Boy Scout for nothing!

The  others  praised John to the skies for the food, which was soon cooking in the kettle over the fire but I knew it was my energy that had provided the chicken. I mean where would a wild fowl suddenly come from, so far from anywhere and in the middle of a forest.

There was an incident later in my life, that shook me to the core.  I told some friends that I would be away for a few days visiting my aunt but a day later, said I had decided against going to Eliotdale because I had heard of a bus accident on the Eliotdale road.

“What bus accident ?” they asked me.

“The one I heard about on the radio.”

The following day it was across all the headlines. The news I had given my friends of the accident, was one day before it actually happened.

My friends gave me some funny looks after that!

This event made me realize that I should never, ever talk about my power. Everyone thought if you had the power,  you could turn it on and off like water in a tap but this was not the case, at least , not with me. The energy that allowed me to do extraordinary things only manifested itself from time to time, often when it was least expected .  It made me feel nervous and I decided that I would keep very quiet about it and never tell anyone.

I intervened a few times, when I thought my friends needed help. I knew that Diana madly wanted to win a scholarship which would enable her to go to university. I worked on her biology subject and groomed her up until the day before her examination. She came beaming, out of the exam room at 12 pm waving her exam paper before her.

“You know what?”

“What?” I asked

“ Five of  the questions on the paper were those you primed me on, yesterday. It was a breeze.”

Of course she won the scholarship.

Samhain,  All Hallows Eve, All Saints Day, the 31^st of October was looming.

“Are you coming to the Halloween party on Friday night? All the office staff will be there?”

“I had not thought of going, Claire, I am not interested in dressing up. Are you going?”

“I am thinking of going. How about you, me and Theresa meeting at the pub this afternoon after work and getting together with ideas about costumes ? I will give you some help with a costume.

“ OK,  what time shall we meet?’

“How about 5pm, will that suit you?”

I arrived at the Pig and Whistle to find Claire and Theresa already seated at a corner table. The wind outside was chill and the autumn leaves rustled under foot. The inside of the pub was warm with a fire going at the back of the room.  Already some of the customers were leaning against the bar counter and were on to their second beers, becoming more rowdy by the minute.

“Shall we go as the three witches to the party on Friday? I can make us each a witch’s hat.”

“That sounds like fun,” said Claire.

A shiver went down my spine. The other two girls did not realize they had a real witch in their midst.

Another thing is, that I never mention the witch scene in one of Shakespeare’s plays and I never refer to the title of the same play. That play makes bad things happen.

“I don’t think that is a good idea,” I said. But I was overruled.

The idea of wearing a witch’s hat and masquerading as a witch was appalling. The time of year and festivities of Halloween for this  pretence, was no less appalling. Would my true nature reveal itself? I would have to put up with all kinds of nonsense and no one would understand the sensitivity of it all.  ESP and witchcraft are no ordinary joke, particularly for those people who have the accompanying attributes.

While we were all enjoying our drinks, Harriet the pub cat sidled up next to my left arm and started to rub herself against me, making loud purring noises. I have a way with cats. The other two looked at me strangely and I smiled. You do not have to keep secrets from cats. They know.

I was looking forward to the party on the 31^st but only because I knew that Hamish would be there. Hamish was a new member of staff and had caused quite a flutter among the female employees. He was good looking with an easy smile and athletic body. His leisure time,  they found  out, was spent kayaking and it showed in his strong arm muscles and gracefully fluid movements. This  displayed  an affinity to water. I had spent a lot of mind energy on getting him to notice me and I felt that my efforts were soon going to be rewarded.

I got to the party rather late because I had some chores to attend to.

I put saucers of milk outside my house and outside my  neighbours’  houses for cats on the prowl. The cat Sidhe, in Celtic mythology, blessed the houses  that  put milk out on Simhain. I was doing them all a favour.

The mood was jolly. I mingled with my colleagues nursing a glass of Halloween punch with fake candy eyeballs floating on top. I avoided the witch’s brew, mostly a poisonous looking mixture of a bright blue colour with black sanding sugar round the rims.  You never knew what  some  unclever person had put into it!

Moving over to a quiet corner I was quite close to Theresa and Claire. The party was going with a swing.

Across the room I spied Hamish walking towards our little group. “Aha, I thought he is going to talk to me and invite me on a date.”

He drew near and I was already wearing my best witch’s smile but no, he  passed me by  and held out a  hand to Theresa,

” Come along I want to show you some really splendid Pumpkin lanterns.”

Theresa,  taking his hand,  turned her face towards me and smiled. I had a blinding flash of recognition. Here was a kindred spirit.  The knowledge blew me away.

Oh well, I said to myself, all witches can’t win all the time, take it from one who knows.