Wicked Beginnings

“ … Two drops of Troll Blood, and a pinch of unicorn’s hair ….” Sam used her best witch voice, as she read her daughter a bedtime story. Wisps of straw-blond hair tickled her chin, as her daughter cuddled under her arm. Arms wrapped around her bony knees folded up and bare feet poking out from underneath her flannel nightgown, she wriggled in excitement.

They cuddled on the sofa, with the wind howling loudly, rattling the old windows. Story-time would hopefully settle Anna down as the excitement of her seventh birthday and Trick-or-Treating next week was proving much too difficult for her to sleep these past few nights.

“The End. ….. Alright, kiddo. That’s it for tonight. Time for you to get to bed,” Sam persuaded. She ushered her daughter into her room amid pleas for one more story, and another glass of water. Turning on her Princess night light, she pulled the covers up under her chin, kissed her forehead, and pulled her door halfway shut letting the bathroom light shine through.

Sam toured the living room, picking up a kicked-off pair of shoes, re-folding a throw blanket over the back of the armchair, and stacking a few books together to go back on the bookshelf. Finally …. she thought, as she poured herself a half a glass of wine, clicked on the tv, and flopped back on the sofa. She took out the band holding her long dark tresses back into a ponytail and shook her hair free. Propping her feet on the coffee table, she clicked through the stations looking for something to watch.

Being a waitress was hell on the back and the feet. However, being new to this town made her thankful that she found something right away, even if she did ache all over by the end of the night.

Ugh … not a fan of horror, she subsequently left a scary movie on low in the background as she decompressed a bit before heading to bed herself. She was pretty sure that this move to Massachusetts was what both of them needed. A fresh start in a fresh place.

Zoning in on the tv, she wondered why the blonds were so predictable, and bet herself that this one was going to get murdered in 5, 4, 3, 2, ….

Sam jumped, startled as Spooky, the stray cat they “rescued” a few weeks ago, sprang from out of nowhere and landed on the arm of the sofa, just as the petite blond met her maker on tv.

“Geez, Spooky! You scared the crap out of me!”

The stray, who Anna named due to her current fascination with all things Halloween, purred and rubbed her head against Sam’s arm. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re adorable, and you know it. And I’m a sucker. Come on I’ll feed you before I turn in,” Sam murmured to the cat who mysteriously showed up outside their rented apartment one night and never left. Feeling sorry for it, Sam left a can of tuna on a plate outside. Spooky was apparently a big fan because she stayed ever since. After several days of her hanging around their doorstep, the cat waltzed right in as if she owned the place, settled herself on the corner armchair, and curled up to take a nap.

Giving the cat its food, Sam checked the locks, turned out the light and headed to bed. She didn’t see Spooky’s green eyes flash white as she stared intently at Sam’s back.

After school the next day, Anna tossed her book bag on the floor, and ran to her room to pack an overnight bag. Should she bring her stuffed whale, or would the other girls think she was a baby? She made friends pretty easily since they moved here, but second grade was a big deal, and she didn’t want anyone making fun of her, like the book their teacher had read to them in class last week. 

“Moooooom … where is my purple backpack?” She shouted as she tossed clothes from her dresser onto her bed. Dropping to her hands and knees, she spied the purple strap sticking out from way back underneath her bed. 

“Never mind,” she shouted again, as she shimmered under the bed, straining to reach it.

Juggling a brown sack of groceries on her hip, her purse hanging from her arm, and a stack of mail, most of it junk, Sam struggled to get through the doorway. Her foot got caught on Anna’s school bag which she left directly in the path.

‘Damn it Anna,” she mumbled. After the day she had, the last thing she needed was to fall flat on her face.

“Come pick up your bag,” she yelled a little louder. “ … or I’ll tell Mackenzie’s mom that you can’t sleep over tonight.”

Anna rushed into the living room, skidded to a stop, grabbed her book bag, and then dashed back to her room in record time.

“And feed the cat too,” she hollered after her.

The minutes flew by, as Anna rushed around to get ready while Sam unloaded the groceries into the fridge, just in time to hear a horn honking outside.

Anna practically shimmered off the ground with excitement as she raced from the front door back to the kitchen tugging on Sam’s arm.

“Come on, mom. She’s here.”

“Alright. I’m coming. Slow down,” she said with a laugh.

After a flurry of good-byes, promises to brush her teeth and a last minute tucking of Wandy the whale inside her backpack, Sam shut the door and leaned against it. 

Whew! It's been … she can’t even remember how long, since she had the night to herself. Maybe she would pour herself a glass of wine and take a nice long soak in the tub. Maybe she would start that book she picked up at the thrift store. After all, she had until noon tomorrow all to herself.

Putting the tv on for some background noise, Sam put her plate in the sink and poured herself a second glass of wine. Geez, she was not used to the quiet. Standing at the kitchen sink, her thoughts raced back to her afternoon shift at work.  

Using the lull after the lunch rush, her boss caught her in the supply closet when she went to grab some extra napkins to fold. Sam had been avoiding being alone with the manager ever since she started working at Grace’s Cafe. 

Grace’s was a favorite long-time cafe in this town. Grace herself was almost 80 years old now, and left her nephew, Earl, to manage the cafe most days. Sam couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she sensed from the start that staying away from him would be for the best. However, today, he managed to sneak up behind her without her being aware. Probably because she was worrying about Anna’s first sleep-over. 

Cornering her between the shelving unit and the door, he ran a hand over his thinning hair, and pulled his pants up by his belt, smoothing his shirt into his waistband. Sam tried to move to the side and go around him, but he shifted and blocked her path again. Using a question about covering someone’s shift, he stared intently at her chest and licked his lips. Feeling a shiver of disgust snake down her spine, Sam blurted out that Joan had it covered and dashed past him, knocking him into the frame.

Thinking of it now, Sam grew queasy, then angry. She should have handled it better. She should have stood up for herself and spoken up.

Agitated, she turned too quickly, knocking her hand into the bottle of wine, sending it careening across the counter to slide right over the edge. 

Panicked, Sam threw out her hand to grab it, knowing she wouldn’t make it time. 

Anticipating broken glass and wine everywhere, Sam cringed expecting to hear shattered glass … but … the bottle was in her hand. 

Puzzled, Sam stared at the bottle in her hand. How was she able to grab the neck of the bottle before it crashed to the ground? Impossible!

Stunned, Sam placed the bottle on the counter and stared at it intently. Then she stared at her hand, and then she stared at the bottle again.

Maybe she had one too many glasses of wine? I mean, she only ate half a sandwich for dinner, and she skipped lunch altogether. Maybe she imagined that the bottle hung there, like she wanted it to, for a split second longer than gravity dictated it should?

Sam placed a shaky hand to her forehead. She had to have imagined it. 

The cat sat on the opposite counter staring at her intently with her head tilted to the side inquiringly.

“Did you see that Spooky? Or was it my imagination?”

Sam gingerly picked up the bottle and inspected it, then slowly placed the bottle in the refrigerator and shut the door softly. She tiptoed down the hallway, afraid to give credence to what she thought just happened. A good night’s rest was what she needed.

The late afternoon sun warmed them, as Anna skipped next to Sam on their stroll down Essex Street. The wind blew Anna’s blond locks around as she regaled Sam with all of the funny antics of Mackenzie’s dog, who apparently stole a slice of pizza and raced around the room with a bunch of giggling girls chasing him.

They passed several stores, including a pizzeria, and a crystal shop, as they headed for the ice cream parlor at the end of the street. A blast of warm air hit them in the face as the bell jingled above the door. The smell of fresh waffle cones greeted them.

As they discussed their choice of flavors, Anna’s friends walked in. Begging her to join them, Anna pleaded her best case.

“I’m sorry. We just finished and now we have some errands to run,” Sam denied her.

“But, Mom, pleaseeeee?” She begged.

“It’s no problem at all. Let her hang out with us for a little while. You can go run your errands, then come back. The girls want to play some video games, and I’ve got tons of quarters,” Mackenzie’s mother joked, as she jiggled a bag of coins.

Outnumbered, Sam agreed. After hitting the bank, and post office, she headed back to the ice cream parlor when a book in the window of the crystal shop made her pause and stare.

It had a woman on the cover with her eyes closed and her hands raised. It read Move Objects With Your Mind - Learn Witchcraft.

Unconsciously, she pulled the heavy door open and found herself standing in the middle of The Coven’s Cottage.

“Blessed Be, Sister,” a soft voice murmured. “How are you?”

“Uhh, Hello,” Sam whispered timidly.

She took two quick steps to the left out of her line of sight. Spying a shelf with various candles and jars on it, Sam peered closer. Squinting she read the labels of what seemed like harmless herbs.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” The soft voice had moved and was directly behind her.

Sam glanced over her shoulder at a middle aged woman with long, black hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun with numerous wisps escaping and framing her porcelain skin. Her eyes, covered with purple-rimmed glasses, were bright green, and reminded her of Spooky. 

“Uhh, …. I’m just looking around,” Sam could feel the redness creeping up her neck to her cheeks.

“That’s always fun. What made you stop by this afternoon?” She smiled at Sam and tilted her head inquisitively.

“Actually, …. I saw this book in the window ….” Sam hesitated, as she pointed at the front display.

“Ahh yes, we have a wonderful selection. Which one in particular were you interested in?”

“The one about moving objects with your mind,” Sam replied with her eyes downcast at the floor.

The lovely, dark haired woman whisked the book off of a nearby shelf, and proudly held it up for Sam to see the cover.

“Yes, that’s the one,” she continued to whisper.

“Have you been practicing long, sister?”

“Ppppracticing?” She stuttered in disbelief.

“Yes, you obviously have a gift. I can sense it.”

“Uh, NO,” she blurted. “I’m not a www-witch or anything.”

“It just happened.” Sam shifted uncomfortably.

“What happened?” The dark-haired woman asked as she smiled serenely at Sam, waiting for her response.

“Uhh, nothing. Nothing happened …. I just realized I’m late,” Sam said as she thrust money at her.

“Keep the change,” she blurted, as she hurried away.

After getting Anna settled in for the night, Sam sat down on the sofa. She glanced over at her purse, which contained her purchase from earlier today.

Nervously, she paced around the room. As she walked, she kept sneaking looks at her purse.

Suddenly, Spooky jumped up on the arm of the chair. She meowed then pawed at the strap of Sam’s purse.

“Well, I guess that’s a sign, right?” Sam whispered.

“And now I’m talking to a cat!” Sam rolled her eyes.

Swiftly, she marched over to the armchair, picked up her purse, and took the book out. Then, deflated, she sat quietly on the floor with her back pressed up against the sofa, holding the book and staring at it. 

“I can’t be a witch,” she muttered. “I’m not Wicked.”

Taking a deep breath, Sam opened the book and dove right in.

Hours passed as Sam absorbed information about the Wiccan World. Legs numb, she squirmed and shifted her position on the floor.

Interesting. It was not completely out of the realm of possibilities. After all, things that couldn’t be explained happened every day.

Several more hours passed.

Sam glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. Sam decided to try one of the basics.

After lighting some candles, and turning off the lamp on the end table, Sam peered around the room and settled on her keys. They were small.

Placing them in the middle of the coffee table, Sam took some deep breaths.

Gathering herself, Sam closed her eyes and mumbled the words she read.

Opening them, she stared blankly at her keys. 

Duh, how was she going to know if they moved when her eyes were closed.

OK, Sam, You got this! 

Talking to herself, Sam stared intently at the keys on the coffee table. 

She took several more deep breaths. 

Concentrating, she repeated herself over and over again. 

Sam squealed when the keys shimmered.

Though they didn’t actually move, Sam was encouraged. 

Deciding to call it a night, Sam blew out the candles and walked down the hall. She needed to do some more research first, but maybe there was a possibility that she really did have a gift.

After sending Anna off to school, Sam decided laundry was going to wait until later on her day off. She headed back to the crystal shop. Sam noticed that this time an older man with dark hair and a widow’s peak was working behind the counter. 

She mumbled her Hello as she entered, then she wandered around the store. Selecting a few crystals and some more books, this time Sam smiled as she checked out.

Finishing up the day with laundry and homework, Sam had decided earlier to wait until it was dark and Anna was asleep.

She gathered her supplies, lit a fire in the fireplace and settled herself to experiment with her crystals and books.

After a few hours, she succeeded in making her keys slide down the table, and lifting a vase a few inches in the air.

“I AM A WITCH” Sam shouted! 

Then sheepishly she shrugged her shoulders and lowered her voice. 

Raising her wine glass, she toasted herself, and murmured, “Here’s to Wicked Beginnings!”