The Truth About Witches

Content Warning: some violence

On the first day of summer, with the scent of honeysuckle in the air, I learned about the witch.

My goal that day was convincing Mom to let me bike to my favorite candy shop in the next town over. When she looked at me, the concern in her eyes went much deeper than I expected.

“You know, the neighbors are saying there’s a witch in town. You’re going to need to be extra careful this summer.”

“A witch?” I asked. So what? The only witch I knew was Sabrina, and she didn’t seem like someone you needed to hide from.

“You know Redwood Lane? There’s an old blue house on the end. Don’t go near it. All of my friends I volunteer with at church say that the Devil brushed his hand over it, and now the woman who lived there is a witch.”

Mom had always been superstitious, especially about dealings with demons and the Devil. Perhaps if I’d been a few years younger, I would have heeded her warning and run upstairs to cower under my bed in fear. But I was twelve, the tender age where the world feels too small for you and you decide that you are invincible. If there was a witch in town, I was going to find her for myself. 

Of course, I couldn’t make that obvious. “Oh,” I said. “Well, I just wanted to get some candy at Duke’s with Katie. Is that still okay?” 

Mom took a deep breath, then sighed. “I guess. But please don’t go down Redwood, okay? And don’t go anywhere alone. Stick with Katie.”

“I will, I promise!” I gave her a quick hug before running to the garage to get my bike. I dusted off the seat and jumped on, gripping the yellow handlebars before taking off, speeding towards the journey ahead.

***

“A witch? In Ocean Harbor?” Katie furrowed her brow in a way that said you’re so stupid I don’t even need to say it out loud. “This is the most boring town in New Jersey, maybe even the whole world. There’s no way there’s a witch here.”

“My mom says there is,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“She’s probably just making that up so you get scared and stay inside and do a bunch of chores.”

“Just listen to me!” Katie had known me for so long, she could get on my nerves like a sister. “My mom even told me exactly which house the witch lives in. I was gonna go exploring to find it, but I guess if you don’t believe me you won’t want to come-”

“Well, wait,” Katie interrupted. “I never said I didn’t want to go exploring!”

“So you do believe me!”

“Well, n-no. No way! You know what, I’ll come with you just so you can see that I’m right.”

“Fine!” I said. I tried to conjure up a look of defiance, but I could feel my smirk shining through. “But don’t tell your mom what you’re doing. Say we’re going to get taffy at Duke’s.”

“Yeah, okay,” Katie said. She ran up the porch steps and opened the front door. “Hey Ma, I’m going to get candy with Sarah!” she shouted. She barely waited a second before racing back down the stairs with a determined grin on her face. I heard her giggle as she ducked into the garage.

“I think we should still go to Duke’s afterwards,” Katie said as she reappeared on her bubblegum pink bike. “But let’s make a bet. Whoever’s right about the witch has to pay. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said. I led the way as we rode our bikes down the street. The wind blew in our hair and we raised our chins up, filled with the confidence of seasoned adventurers.

It was time to go find a witch.

***

“So, which house is it?” Katie asked when we reached Redwood Lane. “None of them look scary to me.”

“It’s the blue one all the way at the end,” I said. “At least, that’s what my mom said.”

We rode our bikes slowly down the street. Katie was right. None of the houses looked particularly scary or witchy. This was a quiet street, lined with oak trees and quaint, little houses with mailboxes at the end of their driveways. If it weren’t for the witch, there wouldn’t be anything particularly notable about it at all.

The blue house on the end was on the smaller side, even for this neighborhood. It was a calming, pastel blue, offset by the bright pinks and purples of the flowers planted in the front garden. Two white rocking chairs with pale green cushions sat on the porch, swaying gently in the slight breeze that blew past.

“That’s the witch’s house?” Katie asked. “Now I think you made everything up, even the part about your mom. There’s no way anyone believes a witch lives in there.”

“I swear to you, my mom does. And all of her friends at church.”

“You’re totally lying. You’re buying me extra candy when you lose this bet.”

“Okay, fine, whatever.” I looked up at the house. Now that we were here, I actually started to feel a little nervous. If there really was a witch in that house, would she be mean and scary? “What should we do?”

“Don’t look at me, this was your idea,” Katie said. From the way she was tapping her foot, I could tell she was more impatient than nervous. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll just knock.” Katie nodded, and I slowly made my way up the porch stairs. The front door had a cheery welcome sign on it, pastel pink with beige letters. I raised my slightly shaking hand and knocked on the door.

There was a slight rustle from inside the house, and then an old woman appeared in the doorway. She had short, curly gray hair and wore a floral dress.

“Hello,” she said. “How may I help you?”

“Um, hi,” I said, startled. She looked so kind. Could she really be a witch? “We, uh, we were wondering…” I paused, taking a deep breath. “We wanted to know if, uh-”

“Are you a witch?” Katie yelled. I shot a glare back at her. She just shrugged, as if to say, What? It’s what we came for.

The old lady chuckled, but there was a slight sadness behind her eyes. “A witch? Is that what they’re calling me these days?”

My cheeks heated, and I snapped out of Mom’s superstition. I was offending this poor woman. “I’m so sorry, it’s just, we heard a story, and we-”

“No, it’s alright,” she said. “I don’t get many visitors, so it’s nice to have you here. And you’re very polite.” She smiled at me, and even looked back at Katie. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? I  just put on the kettle, and there’ll be plenty extra.”

Oh,” I looked back at Katie who just smirked at me, gloating about winning the bet. “Sure, we’ll come in.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea. Maybe that was how the witch lured her victims. But…she seemed so kind, and I followed her inside, Katie in tow.

"The people at church used to call me Old Mary," the woman said. She led us into her kitchen, a quaint little room with plenty of kitschy decorations and a small, wooden table. "You can call me that, too. I haven't been to church as often since my husband Edgar passed. I think they feel betrayed, and that's why they call me a witch."

"Betrayed?" I asked.

"I was quite involved in volunteering. Cooking for potlucks, watching children during service, all kinds of things. I stopped quite abruptly...I didn't tell anyone about my Edgar's passing until months after it happened, and by then I suppose they'd formed their own ideas. He was buried in his hometown, so no one knew about the funeral."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said. I knew that was the kind of thing you were supposed to say.

"Me too," Katie said. "Do you live here all alone?"

Old Mary nodded. "I have two children, but Suzie's away in Europe, and Daniel has a family in California. So it's just me. I rarely get visitors anymore. You two are the first who have come by in months."

I looked down at the floor. I felt so guilty for believing she was a witch, for feeding into the hysteria that kept her so lonely. I looked over at Katie, who just raised an eyebrow.

"Well...what if we kept you company? We're out of school, and we could come by so you have someone to talk to!"

"Oh girls, you don't have to-"

"We want to!" Katie said. "Here. I'm Katie, and this is Sarah, and we're going to be your new friends."

Old Mary smiled. "Well, if you'd like to stay, that's alright with me." She took the steaming kettle off the stove and poured the water into ornate floral teacups. She placed them gently on the table in front of us and then went over to the cupboard.

"Oh dear, my honey jar is empty. Let me just go downstairs to get more, it'll only take a second!"

As Old Mary disappeared down the hallway, Katie nudged me with her elbow.

"Told you she wasn't a witch."

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes and smiling as we settled ourselves at the table to drink our tea.

***

Katie and I did our best to visit Old Mary at least once a week. Once, we couldn't make it, and the next time we bought her a big bag of saltwater taffy to apologize.

“Oh, you girls didn’t have to bring me anything!” Old Mary said. But she took the bag from my hands and smiled. “Well, since you brought it all this way, would you like to share it with me?”

We’d happily agreed, settling in her kitchen to scarf down the candy along with cookies and tea. She reminded me of my grandmother, warm and doting in the same way. I couldn’t believe anyone would think she had a harmful bone in her body, much less that she was an evil witch.

But it seemed that the rumors hadn’t let up. In fact, they’d only gotten worse. When I got home that day, later than usual, Mom sat me down on the couch and looked me right in the eyes.

“Sarah, you can still go out with your friends, but you need to be home before dark. Do you understand?” Her tone was more stern than I’d ever heard it.

“Did something happen?”

“The mayor’s daughter got sick last week, and now five other girls around town have the same symptoms. They keep fainting and coughing and having awful nightmares. The doctors can’t seem to figure it out, but…my friends think it’s a curse. They think it’s the witch.” She closed her eyes and shuddered, quickly crossing herself.

“But, Mom, I…” There was no way to defend Old Mary without telling Mom the truth. And if I did, I wouldn’t be allowed to see her anymore. I had to play it safe. “Are you even sure there’s a witch?”

“There’s something dark in the air here, Sarah. I can feel it.” She hugged herself, as if overtaken by chills. “Everyone seems to think it’s a witch, and with all of these girls getting sick…I certainly think it’s likely.”

I started to worry about my weekly visits to Old Mary. What if I got sick, and someone found out I'd been going to her house? Would she be blamed for it, even if it wasn't her fault? For a moment, I wondered if we should stop seeing her.

But we promised we’d keep our visits up until the end of the summer, and so we did.

***

On the last day of summer, with the scent of honeysuckle faded and forgotten, I learned the truth.

Katie and I were sitting at Old Mary’s kitchen table, playing a game of gin rummy while she made us tea. It was a quiet, peaceful afternoon, so similar to all of our visits to Old Mary. None of us had expected the interruption.

The first time it happened, it seemed insignificant. A soft tap on the side of the window, like the branch of a tree that had blown too close. 

“I only need one more to win!” Katie exclaimed, replacing one of the cards in her hand. Before I could take my turn, there was another sound against the window, this time a much louder, harder thud. 

“What’s that sound?” I said. Another thud on the window. And then a muffled yell from outside. Old Mary opened the blinds to get a better look.

“We know you’re in there, witch,” a man said from outside. There was such bitterness behind the words. “You made all of our daughters sick.” There was another thud against the window, and I realized the man outside had thrown something at the house.

“I’m not a witch, I promise!” Old Mary called. Her voice shook like she was near tears. “I know I haven’t been to service in a while, and I feel so guilty. But after losing my Edgar, I-”

“Stop with the excuses, witch!” A woman’s voice this time. This time, there was no thud against the window. There was a shatter. Glass flew everywhere and Katie and I quickly ducked. From under the table, I saw that it was a rock that had flown through the window and dropped onto the kitchen floor. 

“Mary!” Katie screamed. She crawled out from under the table to Old Mary, who was lying on the floor. She must have fallen when the window shattered. “Sarah, what do we do?”

I’d seen enough. I ran to the living room and looked out the front window. There was a small crowd of people in front of the house, too. The parents must have gathered their friends to circle Old Mary. I was just glad to see my mother wasn’t among them.

The people in front of the house were throwing rocks, too. As soon as one hit the window, landing with a sharp thud but not breaking the glass, I knew I needed to do something.

I whipped open the front door and ran onto the porch.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Old Mary isn’t a witch! She’s my friend!”

But it wasn’t enough. They either weren’t listening, or they didn’t care

“I said sto-”

It was too late. The rock had already left someone’s hand. I heard, more than felt, it hit my forehead. As I crashed to the ground, I couldn’t help but think that this was the real evil, the real darkness in the air. Not Old Mary. I didn’t have time to protest before darkness consumed me as well.

***

I woke up in the hospital, Katie and Mom by my side. They told me that thankfully the rock had been too small to crack my skull. I had a concussion and a cut, but eventually those things would go away.

"What about Old Mary?" I asked, trying to sit up. The pounding in my head was stronger than my heartbeat.

"She has a few broken bones, but the doctors said she'll be fine as well," Mom said. "Katie called the ambulance just in time. Everyone's saying she isn't a witch after all. Not that I'd want to listen to them anymore, not after what they did to you." She gently rubbed my shoulder. "But all of this will blow over and fade away, and everything will be okay."

But it wouldn't, would it? Even if those people realized she wasn't a witch, they were still going to hurt her. They were still going to hurt me for defending her. That was the truth, the truth I'd learned the hard way. That people could turn on each other so quickly, without trying to understand each other. If I hadn't been there that day, would they have killed Old Mary?

I laid my head back down and closed my eyes. That summer, I'd found the witch, and she had just been a story. But I'd also learned about the darkness that lurks within all of us, waiting for the right opportunity to pounce. And that was real.