The Swordsman and the Witch.

“Rockridge librarian is evil.”

“I heard she feeds off of children’s joy.”

“She has evil eyes!”

“Sharp teeth are all I saw when I first saw her.”

“Everyone stays away from Rockridge library on Saturdays. Except the adults…”

“I heard that she was a witch once, before arriving at Rockridge.”

These were the whispered rumors I heard the summer before second grade. And every single one of them terrified me.

***

“Michael! We’re about to head out to the library!” My mom’s voice echoes up the stairs, through the corridor and into my bedroom. At least that’s how I’d always pictured it. Her words floating in invisible letters as they race to get to me.

I gulped at the thought of her words and feel my body trembling. “Coming!” I yelled back as I make my way down the hall.

It was our usual schedule. Mom always took me to the library on Saturdays unless there was something more important to do. And just like every Saturday, I’d always take a little too long or made up an excuse of why ‘today was not a good day’ to go to the library.

“Michael?” I hear mom questions as I drag myself down the stairs. With every slow footstep I scramble inside my head looking for an excuse to make. But as usual my little minions are running from side to side in panic as a file room burns in the back. Nothing. I got nothing. So, I simply say, “Today is not a good day to go to the library.” In panic as my mom appears in full view in front of the stairs.

She stares at me with her mom eyes, chuckles and shakes her head. “Saturdays are always a good day to go to the library.” And with that she’s out of sight again. Which leaves me no option that to put my shoes on and wait for her by the door.

The problem was not the library itself, but what was in the library that made every child in Rockridge scram. Unfortunately for me, I was one of the unlucky ones. Why did mom cared I became such a great reader before reaching the third grade, beats me? All I know was that all the kids in my neighborhood had found a way of manipulating their parents into thinking that reading was something they could catch up to once in the third grade. Avoiding the library every single Saturday. How they did it? I never knew.

But anyway, back to the story. You see, I spotted it a couple of weeks ago. School had just started, and mom had gotten back into the school routine, when Saturday rolled around. We were already in the old building when mom left me unsupervised for a couple of minutes as she scurried to the adult section. She wanted to pick up a book while I read through the mountain, she had picked out for me.

Once she was gone though I scanned the room around me and checked if she was going to be back sooner than expected. When I didn’t see any sign of her, I took my chance. Rockridge library wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to get lost in it. I took my chance regardless of getting lost and wandered off into the abyss of tall shelves where dust and smelly books lived.

I was like a swordsman. Armored in bravery and confidence. As I held my reading friend Mr. Bubbles and used it as a sword to spook away the enemy. I walked in tip toes as I pass the isles and would pick up my speed when a goblin (or human) of some sort would appear. Running so quick all they could hear was my vigorous footsteps, together with the swoosh of the wind my trace left…or the sound of carpet friction. I’m not sure. But it was courageous, either way.

I was running away from another isle when I finally spotted it. What I had been looking for. The black door at the back of the library with the words Keep Out written in horrible handwriting. I winced at the letters as I said, “Geez, even Peter Green could do a better job than this.”

Peter was the weird kid from our grade that everyone tried to stay away from. Unless our homeroom teacher forced us to interact with him. But that’s a story for another day.

I was about to knock on the door when a loud rambling sound came from inside. The sound was so forceful that it made my insights feel funny and all my hair stick up. I was still standing frozen with my hand in midair, when I heard something that sent me running from the same way I had come. It was the screech of the lost witch all the fifth graders had warned the rest of the school about. Or maybe it wasn’t, for I never saw her. But I knew it was her. Her voice was so scary it even sent me away running in all my shining armor.

Ever since summer, before every first grader is promoted to the second grade it’s always the 5th graders job to teach us young ones how the real-world works. Well, how it works in Elementary anyway. So, it was in the beginning of summer, as I swam freely in our community pool when the fifth graders huddled around me to tell me the news; of how everything was going to work out once school started again.

But of everything they told me something ran loud and clear. And it was to stay away from the library at all costs! For, there lived the librarian witch. My heart sank. The library was a routine my mom had built in ever since kindergarten when letters would blend and mix the way it did in soup. So how was I supposed to tell mom that the library had been canceled?

I was starting to forget those warning words once school started, until I heard it. The witch was real. And there wasn’t a thing you could do to make me unbelieve this mysterious urban legend.

***

After my scary event I went running to the neighborhood circle where every kid of all ages met after school and on weekends. It was there where every kid stood silent with eyes widened as I explained what I had heard that day.

“So, she’s real?” A kid said in a whisper.

“Did you see her?” Said another in a gasp.

Questions I could not answer since I ran before the door jolted open.

But those weren’t the questions that shook me to my core, it was what the cool rising fifth grader, Matt, said. “She’s real? That can’t be…I only had made her up…”

“What?!” Screamed every kid tall and short in that too tight, too small circle. Everyone started shouting and speaking over each other on Matt’s direction. He was our group leader and was trying his very best to answer all the people’s request. He seemed like a broken mayor with an angry and confused mob after him.

“You lied to us?!”

“That’s just mean!”

“You fifth graders are just a bunch of bullies!”

“But that can’t be! I saw her!” A high-pitched voice screamed. It was Bella. She was in the same grade I was, but she was in the smart class, so we never really hung out. Once her words came out everyone shut up and all turned their gaze toward her. Even me.

Whispers and mumbles started around the circle as Matt approached her. “You…saw her?” A scared Matt said as he put a hand on Bella’s shoulder. She nods. “When?” He asks again.

“Just a couple of days ago. And everyone in my girl scout has seen her as well.” She said triumphantly but with a bit of fear in her tone still.

She then proceeded to inform us everything she and her girl scout group had investigated. She had thick black glasses that could see into your worst nightmares. She had symbols on her arms no one knew or understood. And she had a huge scar that ran across her face.

***

After that eventful turnout, Matt had convinced me to go exploring the unknown places of the library again; to see if Bella was telling the truth or not. Which brings us too today. Therefore, I’m back at the dungeon and this time I’m I have a quest. I waited for mom to leave me alone like last time and once she did, I was back at exploring the old insights of this creaky place slowly making my way to that suspicious door.

“Be brave Mike. You’re brave.” Mike. It was my new nickname from Matt. And I liked it since it made me sound big, like him.

After Bella’s truth bomb of seeing the library’s witch on Saturday, Matt instructed me with the special task of finding out whether it was true or not. Since I was one of the few kids in school who faithfully came here on Saturdays, so I was perfect for the job.

I did my whole routine of swooshing from the isles and tiptoeing around carefully after finally arriving at the door. I was holding Mr. Bubbles tighter than usual as my heart pounded so loud, I couldn’t even think. As my hand lifted, and carefully got as close as possible to the door, the loud rumble from last Saturday did its thing again. This time though, I did not run like a coward. I hid instead. I waited a couple of seconds and when it had stopped, I snuck up to the door again.

I reached my hand toward the knob and when I think I’m about to fail again, I do it and swung the door open. Only that the realization of not opening the door gently as I was supposed to doesn’t quite set in until it was too late. Because standing inside was the monster Bella had warned us all about.

It was standing in her hideous form. With black rags that appear and disappear in the darkness she was standing in, making her look like a ghost. Hunched back over with what seemed like her new version of pot for boiling potions in. Her hand inside of it as the machine bleeped and let out a green light. Her arms long and pale green stamped with symbols used for her gods. When I reached her hair, my mouth opened as I analyzed what it looks like blood. Once I reach this realization, I let out a loud scream, startling her and making her look my way. Pointing one of her long arms towards me and with pointy fingers yelled, “help” in a sound I’d never heard before. And before I could analyze her face correctly, I went out running before its presence. I ran so fast this time, not caring if I blew my cover in front of the other peasants. I kept running until I bumped into a tall figure.

“Michael?” A familiar voice said in a concerned tone. “Are you alright?”

“Mother! Oh, Mother! How glad I am to see thee!” I said in my most 18^th century era wording that I had master after reading the Three Musketeers like a thousand times. The kid version.

Mom laughs. As if this is something to be laughing about. “Are you mocking me? How dare you mock a knight-“

I was still mid-sentence when I heard the faint help coming from where I had just come from. Making me jump and hide behind my mom. “I’m scared mommy. An evil witch is after me!”

“Michael.” Mom’s chuckle. “What’s going on, why were you running, and what witch?” She asked as she tried to turn around to face me, but I’m hugging too tightly to her back to even let her.

She asks again and instead of saying anything I just point out towards the isle I had just come from. Mom slowly calms me down and untangles me from her. Once she does, she asked me to lead her to the place where the witch was.

As we arrived, she sees the open door and as she stepped in front of it, she gasps and covers her mouth. I panicked because I’m only a kid who’s not strong enough, but still wants to protect his mom. When the idea to stand in front of her comes to me the words that escape her mouth halts me to a stop.

“O my goodness, Jenny?!” She sounds in disbelief as she enters the tiny room with her.

“Wait, Jenny? Who’s Jenny?” I asked to myself and slowly reach the entrance of the tiny room.

“How on earth did this happened?” I heard my mom say as she laughs in her mom laugh.

“Honestly, I kinda got mad at it and my hand got stuck somewhere.”

A sweet and innocent voice says between laughs as it floats from inside the room and to me.

“That doesn’t sound like a witch’s voice.” I mumble to myself.

I was still standing outside and was slowly making myself walk toward the entrance when I finally did and saw everything from a new angle.

Mom had turned on the light to the tiny room which now appeared to be a small closet. It was crammed with office supplies, a giant office printer in the middle and a small generator. But that was not what surprised me the most, what did surprise me was the hand stuck in the printer and the body attached to it.

I stood there in shock as I saw the whole thing. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when mom walked straight into her death wish, but this was not it.

Mom finally helped the lady that went by Jenny, and we all got out of the room and into the front desk. I was silent the whole time still puzzled at the whole situation. The lady in front of me did not look like a witch at all. She had witch features, but was not one. She had soft green eyes that drooped on the sides, a crooked warmed smile, thick black glasses, dark hair with red streaks and a black flowy dress that looked more hideous in plain sight. She had weird small tattoos that ran on each side, but not a witch. And her glasses seemed normal to me. She had no scar either.

She noticed I stood quiet and held her hand out to me. “I’m Mrs. White, Michael. Pleased to meet you. I bet you have heard everything about me already.”

“Huh?” I said confused.

“The spooky librarian witch.” She says in hope I catch on.

“You know?”

“Of course, I do. Who do you think came up with it?”

I gasped and left my mouth open. “But, why?”

And so, she tells me why. Turns out Jenny was only twenty when she got the job and wasn’t really a fan of kids. She was more into rock and roll than she was into books, and probably still is. Being a witch gave her control of the misbehaving children, and I guess rumors spread like wildfire. She was old now, though. Or old enough to understand kids minds since she was married now and had kids of her own. Also, mom and Jenny went to school together.

***

We left the library earlier than expected. Turns out I was still to spooked and too shocked to concentrate in a book.

Once home I ran to the neighborhood circle and waited for all the kids to arrive. I was happy because I knew Matt would make me front and center again. And this time I had information they didn’t.

“Mike, did you see the witch today?” Asked the kids almost in unison, as they got closer to me.

I smiled and thought of the question. I knew the answer to the real witch, but they weren’t here for that. They were here for the mystery, the win, and the loss, the ugly and the scary. Telling the truth would make the urban legend a lie and not a fine line of what was real and what wasn’t. It also put Jenny in jeopardy with the misbehaving kids. And so, I lied.

“Yes. Yes, I did.” They all gasped at my words and their eyes were as wide as they were when they heard me the first time around. “And she is nothing like Bella described her. She is far uglier and scarier looking that you might think.”

We stayed there the whole afternoon. In the trance of the librarian witch. But this time I added to the legend, made it more real. No one dared to ask me, and I told it in a way that there wasn’t a room for questioning. I’m sure Jenny wouldn’t mind if I altered her ego a bit more.

Besides, in her mind she’ll stay as her fearful old witch, as for I, a mighty swordsman fighting all odds every Saturday. And who would think otherwise? It wasn’t as if Jenny met the requirements of what a normal librarian looked like. I guess she never got the memo.