Chapter 1

The opening situation; hoping to plunge in but from the child's perspective

“There must be some really nice people around here,” said the old woman suddenly. “Look, they’ve put all those strings on poles for the birds to sit on. Where I come from, people just throw things at them.”

The bus rocked on a little more and she spoke again,

“You people must be really rich. That house we just passed went all the way along the street and it’s got loads of windows and doors.”

I know it was stupid, but I had heard enough. I had to say something.

“It’s just a terrace,” I said, “ lots of people live there.”

“I should think so, a house that size.I’d probably argue all the time if I lived with all those people.”

If she lived with anyone, I thought, they would probably throw her out.

“You’ve got quite clever too,”she added, “I thought I was the only one who could make horses invisible.”

Mostly, I just nodded and smiled and wondered why it was me she had picked on to speak to and not any of the others who had been waiting for this bus ten minutes ago.

Probably, it was my fault for being late. I had been running and didn’t see the old woman until after we had collided and I looked up to see what had hit me.

“Oops, sorry dear,” she had said, looking at her bags scattered all around. I had muttered about it being my fault and began picking up her things. She certainly knew about some odd shops in the area because she had all kinds of things I’d never seen before and some stuff I was sure you couldn’t buy locally. A can of frog’s brains rolled out of my hand and dented a packet of dried blackbirds’ eyes.

“Careful dear, I don’t want to have to fetch all this stuff again, I don’t think I have the time.” She said.

“I’m really sorry,”I said, “Can I help you carry it all home?”

“Well, that would be fine dear, if I had a home around here, but I haven’t.”

“You mean you’ve got nowhere to go ?” I asked. I thought that she was the first homeless person I had met and I suddenly felt awkward, thinking about films at school, showing tattered old men and soggy cardboard boxes.

“Well, that’s not exactly what I said but……… you haven’t got a kitchen at your house have you?” she asked suddenly. Uh oh , I thought, where is this all leading?

“Er, yes, we’ve got a..”

“Perfect,” she sighed, “you lead and I’ll follow.”

“Yes, but I don’t know if mum and dad will….”

“Come along, it’s very important. If we hang about, I might get caug…well, look some of this stuff needs to be used immediately, while it’s still fresh or it won’t work. I think we know each other well enough now and ow! I think you may have hurt my leg when you crashed into me, and me a frail old woman on my own..” She suddenly looked all wobbly and leaned on me, then the bus arrived and before I knew it the driver was helping “my dear old gran” on board and I was poorer by two fares home.

I had tried to pretend we weren’t together and hoped she would forget it all, or find a more suitable victim, but she just kept saying all those weird things to me and then it was time to get off.

I could see my sister’s bike outside the house, so she was back from school and probably in her room with loud horrible music on, but luckily neither mum nor dad were around so we went in the back way to the kitchen.

“By the way ,” I said, “what is your name anyway ?” Just in case mum should happen to ask who the stranger was, maybe I could act like it was a good deed from school; they were always on about community and talking to old people and making sure they didn’t get frozen in the winter. Mum would like that.

“Flax,” she replied. “That would be the usual one I suppose. If you can just show me where the kitchen is, I can get straight on.” She said.

“But this is the kitchen, look; there’s the cooker and the fridge and that’s the…” She was peering into the washing machine.

“Do you start the fire in there then?”

“No! That’s for cleaning clothes. This is the cooker here; it’s a gas one, with a clicky thing to light it.”

She shuffled across to where I was standing and poked a finger at the cooker. I turned one of the knobs and pushed the starter button. Click, click and pooff! She stepped back and then leaned slowly forwards with a smile on her face.

“Isn’t that pretty?” she said, “just like a little flower. How did you teach the fire to stand in a circle? Is it a binding spell? I knew things would be different, but this! I never expected we would be so free to work.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” I said, “but I don’t really know what you’re on about. It’s just gas. It comes in a pipe and my mum pays for it every month.”

“Oh yes, your mother. Of course, I should have guessed. I don’t suppose she would teach you all of the craft, you being just a boy and all. Still, I can see I’m going to need some help. Do you know how this kitchen works?”

I suppose if she hadn’t called me just a boy, things would have worked out differently, but I got a bit annoyed and wanted to show her that I wasn’t a complete idiot.

“Of course I know how it works. What do you want to do?”

“I’m going to need a small pot and a hazel twig, if you’ve got one. We need to boil up a pint of fresh water for the paste. No more than a pint mind; if it’s too runny, it won’t seal up the door properly.”

What door?What was she on about? She seemed a bit mad or something. I thought all these things as I got a pot out of the cupboard. I thought a wooden spoon would probably do and anyway I was sure we didn’t have any hazel twigs around. She rummaged in her bags, unloading stuff on the table as I measured a pint of water into the pan and put it on to boil.

“Does that door lock?” asked Flax, pointing at the back door.

“Yes, it’s a Yale.” I replied.

“Oh. I don’t know her. Still, it looks a good sturdy one. Put the key in the pot, but mind you spit on it first for luck.”

Things were going from bad to worse. Please come home late tonight mother, I prayed. I did as I was asked.

“The water is boiling now,” I said helpfully.

Flax was turning the can of frogs’ brains over and over in her hands.

“We need to get them out.”She said, looking at me.

“No problem.” I took the can opener out of the drawer and showed her just how clever I really was.She peered into the can and poked the contents with her finger.

“Hmm, they look quite big. I think three of these should be enough. You started the making,so you had better carry on now. Put them in the pot and say thank you as you do.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t know. That’s what it says here. Anyway, it doesn’t hurt to be polite does it?”

She was pointing at a roll of paper on the table as she spoke. I went over for a look.

“But it doesn’t say anything on here. It’s blank.” I said

“Well it would be. We don’t want this sort of stuff used by just anybody do we? I expect it doesn’t trust you yet. I can read it though. We should have someone to check as we go, but we’ll make do. Pop them in, there’s a good boy.”

I wandered back to the sizzling pot and one by one plopped in the tiny brains.

“Thank you.” Plop. “Thank you too, very much.” Plop. And thank you very much indeed.” Plop.

Flax had begun mashing up garlic and mixing it with pepper and mustard.

“Keep an eye on the pot and stir it so it doesn’t stick. We’ll need it all for a door that size. Do you have a brush anywhere?”

“Under the sink. It’s dads, so we’d better not ruin it.”

By the time the garlic mush was done, the brains had melted down into a gooey mess and the kitchen was starting to smell.

“Put this in, three spoons at a time and stir until it’s really thick. And don’t forget to…”

“Say thank you?”

“Good lad.” Flax went back to her piece of paper and started talking to the back door.

“Right you, now listen. I need you to do a job for me. I know you don’t normally do this sort of thing, but this is really important. First of all, I want you to remember your past. Go right back to when you were a tree. I’m a friend, we would have known that at the time, and you would have known about the craft.” She paused for breath. “Remember now? Good. There were some men after me then. They are still after me now. I’ve escaped for the moment, but they will find me again unless you help. You’re a door now, I just want you to lock for me, but really lock; forever.”

She stopped talking and turned to me, looking thoughtful.

“Right dear, bring the pot over to me now.”

I picked up the hot saucepan and carried it to the table. Flax had her eyes closed and seemed to be concentrating. She whispered a few words and then slowly lowered her hand into the boiling liquid and took out the key. I think that was the first thing that really impressed me. Then, she walked over to the back door, closed it and locked it.

“Now then, where’s this paintbrush?” She asked. I fetched the brush from under the sink and held it out to her.

“No dear, you are the one doing the bits and pieces. I want you to paint this stuff all around the gap of the door. Don’t leave any spaces or it won’t work.

I should have been thinking. I mean, what would your mum say if she walked in to find you painting boiled frogs’ brains around the back door? Would it help if your excuse was that the old woman you had brought home with you had told you to do it?

But I wasn’t thinking. I just took the brush and started painting. It was quite thick and difficult to spread out and I had to take my time to make sure I didn’t miss any out. I actually quite enjoy painting and this was certainly different. Meanwhile, Flax was rummaging through her bags again, spreading things out on the table. It was just then that my sister walked in.

“What is that terrible smell? Are you messing about in the kitchen again? You know what happened the last time. Mum is going to bl….who are you?”

As usual, my sister, Sarah, had come in with her mouth going full steam ahead and it took quite a while for her to slow down long enough to notice the strange old woman in the corner.

“Hello dear. Sit down and be nice and quiet please, we haven’t finished yet and the spell is going cold.”

Sarah stopped talking, walked to the table, pulled up a chair and sat down.Without even a whisper. That was almost as impressive, I thought, as pulling keys out of boiling frogs brains. Sarah just happened to have sat down right in front of the roll of paper that Flax had been reading from. She looked at it, screwed up her face and said to me,

“Frogs’ Brains? Boiled in Garlic and spot weed? Is this one of your disgusting friends games? You shouldn’t drag some poor old granny into your horrible little schemes you know. You could get her locked up or something. Really Matthew..”

“Hang on a sec,” I interrupted. “Do you mean you can read that?”

“Of course she can read it,” said Flax, “she’s a girl isn’t she?”

“What’s being a girl got to do with anything?” Said Sarah.

“Being a girl is just what we need at the moment. Now you can check the writings while your brother finishes the door and I can concentrate on…my bits” said Flax.

Sarah stood up.

“I’m not getting dragged into one of his plots. I’ll end up grounded and then I won’t be able to go out next week, or for the next year at this rate. This place stinks, and what have you done to the door?”

We all looked at the door. Strange grey goo I expected, after all I still had the paintbrush in my hand, but now the door looked like it was bulging, and there was a blue light shining underneath it that I hadn’t seen before. Flax was up on her feet and shouting.

“Quick! Finish the painting now!” She yelled at me. “And you,” she turned to my sister, “quit your whining and read aloud with me. Now!” she finished, as Sarah hesitated.

The next few minutes, for me, were filled with frantically painting as a low pitched hum seemed to get louder and louder, or it could have been closer and closer and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out which.

When it all stopped, I was lying on the floor by the table with a bag of flour on my chest, Sarah was crying and Flax was looking pale.

“Did you see it?” sobbed Sarah. “It was horrible, I thought it was going to eat him and I didn’t know what to do, and then you…” She looked at Flax. “You… how did you? I mean it was…and he ….and what would mum say? ….I thought…” Flax put her arm around Sarah’s shoulder, saying

“There there dear, it’s gone now. We’re safe, nothing can get through, you just take a deep breath and relax.”

“What was it?” I said, “I didn’t see a thing. All I remember is painting, and how did I end up covered in flour?”

“Never mind about that now dear, you just clean up a bit while I make us all a nice cup of tea.”

Author's Note

This was written in 1998! Been a while since I did anything with it. Should I persevere?

Reviews

[Viv Wade]

Yes, you should definitely persevere with it! I love stories about witches, and I want to know what happens next!