Witchy

Witchy

“Here they come…”

To Freya, they were the proverbial mob carrying torches and pitchforks. Objectively, they were trick-or-treaters doing what little kids do on this iconic day. They toured the neighborhood in fanciful costumes toting pillowcases and plastic buckets laden with sweets.

Not wanting to harsh their sugar buzz, a few vigilant parents followed at a distance.

Freya hated that Samhain, her holiday, had become the cartoonish Hallmark holiday, Halloween. Samhain’s magic had gotten trampled by a vast commercial enterprise dedicated to selling candy and yard décor on a massive scale. Even more than Christmas.

She thought, ‘No one knows history. All they can think of is more candy. More! More, more…! They don’t even know the Christian traditions…’

What once was a glorious contest between spiritual forces had succumbed to commercialism. Both sides lost.

Once, costumed children whistling past the graveyard was a healthy pastime. The extortion of candy in exchange for warding off hooligans and demons seemed a fair trade.

The harvest festival used to be the last hurrah of darker forces retreating from Advent’s glimmering arrival.

‘Give me sweets or I’ll soap your windows. Big deal. Who can scare whom? I can…’

A clutch of shouting children dressed in the latest monster fashions ran onto her porch. They waved flashlights and carried plastic candy buckets looking like jack-o-lanterns.

Freya had always disdained store bought costumes. One conjured up something scary from found materials, or not at all. These days, she almost expected to see Gucci labels on costumes.

‘That would be scary…’

The pint-sized revelers on her porch included a werewolf, a zombie and some other mildly frightening entities. A little girl wore a pure white witch costume. Freya couldn’t imagine why a ‘witch’ would dress in white. Though pretty, it made no sense.

‘And why carry a shimmering dreamcatcher suspended from a long willow branch? What, no broom?’

Freya’s necklace sported five adder stones, also known as Druid’s glass. She donned her cloak of falcon feathers and approached the door. A black cat and a white one, followed and sat regally at either hand.

‘What these kids need is real magic. Someone needs to teach children about the netherworld’s dark power. I’ll ring your bells you little mongrels.’

She opened the door with a flourish.

Holding up their buckets, the children yelled, “Trick or treat!”

“Welcome! Happy Samhain…!”

“Saw what? I thought it was Halloween…”

“That’s the Christian feast, but witches have always celebrated Samhain.”

The kids glanced nervously about.

“It’s a festival celebrated worldwide to remember the dead.”

Someone said, “Whatever…”

They held out their buckets for candy.

“You know… ghosts and goblins return to earth for one night to scare mere mortals…?”

The werewolf asked, “Are you a teacher? You sound like one…”

The zombie said, “Yeah… school’s out.”

Freya changed her tack. “Would you like a piece of eye candy?”

The zombie asked, “What’s eye candy?”

“I shouldn’t share the recipe, but it’s made with eye of newt sprinkled with…”

As one, “Ewww!”

“There a problem? You’re supposed to be scary. And you’re scared?”

The werewolf said, “Can’t we get real candy?”

“Tell you what… I have a quest for you. The first to return with a thimble full of pigeon’s milk can get two candies.”

No one moved.

“Who can bring me a left-handed knife?”

Someone said, “We want candy…”

She tried again, “Have you read the biography of Eve’s mother?”

Silence.

‘Kids these days…’

“Tell you what. I’ll share a little secret. Pare an apple and throw the skin over your left shoulder. You can discern the initials of your future mate in the apple skin’s twists.”

The werewolf yawned and covered his mouth with a paw.

Freya singled him out. “You’re a werewolf?”

He nodded. “Have you heard the legend?”

“Which?”

The werewolf stood up straight. “St. Wolfgang... He struck a deal for the devil’s help in building a church. As payment, he promised the devil could keep the soul of the first one to cross the church’s threshold.”

Some of the kids giggled.

“The devil agreed and began working. He built the church in no time. Once the construction was done, the devil and St. Wolfgang watched and waited. Near sunset, a wolf approached and entered the church. So, the first to cross the threshold was a wolf. The devil got tricked.”

Freya stifled a yawn. “Yes, I’ve heard that tale. That’s why, whenever they build a new church, they set a dog loose in it before sanctifying it. Silly superstition… And they call this joker a saint?”

The kids were visibly restless. Freya reached behind the door and produced a tray piled with small round loaves of bread.

“Okay… I don’t have candy, but I have these wonderful Dirge Loaves. Delicious! You may each take one…”

The kids looked at the bread loaves. No one moved.

The zombie said, “Ewww!”

“No really! They’re delicious! Made of oatmeal and molasses. Each can take one.”

The zombie said, “They don’t look very good. You’re supposed to give us candy.”

Freya said, “What are you complaining about, Mr. Sensitive? You’re a zombie. There are no spare brains for you to munch on. Next!”

Glenda, the girl dressed in a white satin gown with a matching pointed hat stepped forward. Thumping her willow branch onto the porch floor, she said, “You can’t scare me. I’m a witch.”

“You are?”

“Can’t you tell from my costume?”

Putting her hand to her chin, Freya stepped back and looked at her. “You look like a cartoon witch. Not a real one. What self-respecting witch wears white? Especially on Sa… Halloween?”

“Because I’m a good witch.”

“Ahh… of course…” Freya chuckled. “Rarer than unicorns, but okay…”

Glenda peered into the house. “Are you a witch?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Everyone says so...”

“They do?”

Glenda nodded. “I like your cats.”

Freya pointed to each in turn. “That’s Baal and Zebub.”

Glenda smiled coyly. “Quite an outfit you have. What can’t you buy on eBay anymore?”

Freya narrowed her eyes, stooped down to Glenda and smiled.

“You know they used to burn witches?”

The girl’s eyes widened. “They did?”

Grinning, Freya nodded.

Smoke began seeping from beneath Glenda’s hat. She screamed and tore off her hat. The smoke dissipated harmlessly.

“You’re off to a good start, Missy.” Freya laughed.

Glenda pointed. “What’s that?”

Freya turned. “Where?”

Glenda pulled a wand from her sleeve and tapped Freya’s shoulder. In a flash, Freya transformed into a toad. The cats sniffed her as she hopped from under the feathered cloak.

The kids laughed. Glenda dropped a tube of wart remover on the threshold. It bounced and came to rest before the toad.

Laughing and cheering, the kids ran off.

Holding her dream catcher up, Glenda called over her shoulder, “Be sure to read the directions before use.”

Followed by her cats, Freya, the toad, hopped into the house. She croaked, “Damn! Not again!”