A Witchly Influence

by Stephanie Grey

  “Son of a bitch.”

  At home, I listened to Roach and Finn as I roamed aimlessly around the house, thinking about how to get a petition signed without the Council knowing. I had already typed the document that I wanted others to read, but I needed a way for it to be transported without being obvious.

  An idea popped into my head and I sat down in my office, closing the door behind me and locking it. I picked up a plain, number two pencil and rolled it between my fingers. Yes, this would do. I created a slit inside that withheld the document like a scroll that could be discreetly pulled out and read as well as, hopefully, signed. I tapped the pink eraser and the pencil sprouted tiny arms and legs. Its face pushed itself out of the wood, unveiling squinty eyes and a mustache that was so bushy and long, it looped around the pencil’s ears.

  “This isn’t exactly as inconspicuous as I would have liked,” I murmured.

  “Is it the mustache? I’ve been thinking of trimming it back a little,” it said, a hint of a French accent in its voice. The pencil looked down at itself. “Am I not to receive proper clothing?”

  “What would you like?”

  “A tuxedo would be magnificent, if you don’t mind.”

  A tiny tuxedo appeared and the pencil frowned. “You’re staring at my naked body. I would ask that you turn away until I dress myself.”

  “My apologies,” I said, looking away.

  “You may gaze upon me again,” the pencil said after a few moments. “You may also call me Egbert.” He nodded. “Yes, that will be splendid.”

  “You’re going to blend in a little better than this when I send you out into the world, aren’t you?”

  Egbert bowed deeply. “Of course, Madame.”

  “Start with my friends. Then work your way out from there. Any witch or wizard that you think would sign the petition.”

  His mustache quivered. “Do you believe this to be a good idea? Truly? We can’t allow just any Tom, Dick, or Harry to know about magic!” Egbert laughed at his own joke.

  “I agree with you, but this would enable others to know who are trustworthy. It would be easier to not have to keep lying to those that we love. There would be a vetting process,” I insisted.

  “Ah, I understand, Madame. I shall be back within a fortnight!”

  “A fortnight?”

  The pencil looked annoyed. “I would suggest that you utilize my time away in the most efficient way, starting with reading a dictionary. It is but a polite suggestion for I would never want to embarrass you.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” I said sarcastically.

  “Goodbye!” In a puff of sparkling black smoke, he was gone.

  Hearing voices, I followed the sound to the living room where I found Roach and Finn. My stepbrother’s eyes held a hint of sadness as Roach spoke to him.

  “Hello, Roach,” I said warmly. “How was today’s lesson?”

  “It was totally a good one,” Roach replied, a little too enthusiastically.

  Finn cleared his throat. “Today was Roach’s last day.”

  “Oh.” My eyes widened. “It has been six months, hasn’t it? Listen, Roach, why don’t you stay on?”

  “It’s not like that,” Finn said, embarrassed.

  “Finn, I told you that I want to see you happy and this makes you happy. I don’t mind paying for the lessons.”

  “It’s not about the money. I’ve joined a band and we’re going to start touring!” Roach looped his thumb around his middle and ring fingers, leaving out his index finger and pinky as he pumped his fist into the air. “It’s going to rock this world!”

  “Wow,” I said blandly. “Where are you going to start the tour?”

  “We’re going to play live at Sea Food Festival in Missouri and work our way into the country from there.”

  “Congratulations, Roach,” I said. I glanced at Finn whose eyes were downcast. “I wish you the best of luck.”

  “Luck doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s about my skills!” He stuck out his tongue and shook his head vigorously. “Rock out!”

  Roach let himself out, Finn watching him through a window. “I guess that’s the end of that.”

  “Why?”

  “There are no more instructors in town.”

  “New Bern is small. What about Havelock or Morehead City?” I knew that he was disappointed, but I was determined to remain positive.

  “There are a couple, but they’re booked. Roach checked for me.”

  “That was nice of him, but Finn, let’s be honest here. He’ll be back soon enough.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You don’t have to stop playing, Finn. You sound just as good, if not better, than he does.” I nodded as if in agreement with myself. It was the truth. He was better than Roach.

  Finn’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do,” I insisted. “There were times that I heard you playing and I couldn’t tell the difference between student and teacher. These last couple of months, you really have sounded better than Roach. You should keep playing. I’m sure there are other people you can play with.”

  He snickered. “I think the term you’re looking for is ‘jam.’ Musicians jam together.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “Why can’t you do that?”

  “I don’t really know anyone else that plays and, before you say anything, I do not want to hang out with you while you struggle to learn the keyboard.” He plopped down on the sofa and put his feet on top of the coffee table. Seeing the look on my face, he quickly kicked off his boots. They landed in a pile next to the table where I suspected he’d forget about them and turn the house upside dwon looking for them the next morning. “I don’t think that just playing will be enough.”

  “Why not?” I sat down in the chair that Siobhan had created for me and drew my knees to my chest.

  “I enjoyed learning,” Finn answered. “After what happened this past weekend, I realized that I want more meaning in my life. I thought playing the guitar was enough. Maybe I should go back to school.”

  “You hated school.”

  “Your mother had a bad way of waking us up in the morning. It was like she refused to believe we had alarm clocks.”

  “You slept through your alarm. Even with Mom’s singing, you still had to be shaken awake.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, remembering. “It was easier when Randy was still at home because he threatened to piss on me.”

  “That’s disgusting. I don’t think he would actually do that.”

  “You never had to share a room with Randy. He pissed in my shoes one day because he was awake and I wouldn’t turn off the alarm.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah. Didn’t you notice the last three months of my junior year that I was up before you were?”

  “I just thought you were masturbating really early in the morning. I’d go in the bathroom after you and wiped down everything before I started to get ready.”

  “You were just a freshman then. What did you know about masturbating?”

  “Sexual education is taught in the eighth grade.”

  Finn flashed a smile. “I should’ve remembered that. Stacy Hacker got pregnant that year. That slut had three kids by the time we graduated. I guess you could say she’s lucky because she’s my age and her kids are almost grown already.”

  “She lost her youth to teen pregnancy,” I replied, frowning.

  “I try to see the silver lining of things.”

  “What would you study at school?” I asked, steering us back to the original subject.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Mechanics?”

  “You work on cars on the side. Would a degree help?”

  “Not really,” he admitted. “That’s something where they prefer experience over education.”

  “What about another trade?”

  “I’m a great welder already, so I don’t need that. I’m a great plumber, but I c
ould earn more money if I got certified in things like medical gas.”

  “Is getting your certification the same as going back to school?”

  “Not exactly.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Finn,” I began, my tone low and serious. “Would you really go to class? Or would you say you were too tired from work and blow it off?”

  “I would go.” He was unconvincing.

  “What if you were the teacher?”

  “What do you mean? Are you saying I should try and teach shop at one of the high schools?”

  “You still need a teaching certification to do that.”

  “Oh.” He slumped further down into the couch. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Finn, you can teach the guitar. I’m sure there are others like you who want to learn. Why don’t you just take Roach’s place?”

  My stepbrother’s eyes brightened. “Do you think I could do that?”

  I reached out and patted his knee. “I do, yes. I think you’re great and you’d be a wonderful instructor.”

  “Should I go to their houses or should the students come to me?”

  “What did Roach do?”

  “A little of both.” He scanned my living room. “Your place isn’t creepy. It’s nice and inviting. I suppose parents wouldn’t mind dropping their kids off here.”

  “Gee, thanks, Finn. That’s awfully nice of you to say,” I said sarcastically.

  Ignoring me, he continued. “I could make some fliers and hand them out. I’m sure Roach wouldn’t mind giving me his contacts so that I’d have a head start on this. This is great!” He leaped off the sofa. “I’m going to use your computer to start making the fliers.”

  Our cell phones began to ring simultaneously.

  “Hello?” we answered.

  Hanging up, Finn looked like a deflated balloon.

  “Looks like the fliers will have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “I know,” he said, disappointed. “It figures Cecily would choose now of all times to have that baby.”

  How did you get stuck with the baby again?” Abby asked, opening the door to her home. “Whoa, that baby is only two weeks old?”

  “Cecily was overdue,” I said. “I offered to help. Randy’s at work and Apple is a toddler, which means she’s a handful.”

  “So you took the kid who doesn’t really move yet? How nice of you.” Abby flashed a grin. Looking at the baby, she cooed, “Well, we don’t mind that you’re here, do we?” She gently squished the baby’s arms. “It looks like she’s got rubber bands on her arms.”

  “Isn’t she adorable?” I said, resisting the urge to pinch the baby’s cheeks.

  “She is.” Directing her attention back to the baby, she asked, “What’s your name, sweetie? What do I call you?”

  “Kiwi.”

  “No, I meant her real name.”

  I sighed. “It is Kiwi.”

  Abby’s eyes squinted. “She didn’t earn a nickname in two weeks?”

  “Cecily has a child whose name is Apple. What more did you expect?”

  “I would have thought that your stepbrother would have told his wife that she was being ridiculous and they were going to give their kids normal names. I’m a teacher. Do you have any idea how much crap she’s going to receive from her classmates on the playground?”

  “I think Cecily believes that the world is filled with rainbows and sunshine and that it only revolves around her and her family.”

  I followed Abby through the house and to her backyard. “Daddy got so excited when I asked him if he still had this.” She was looking at a large jogging stroller. “He was very disappointed when I told him that I wanted to use it for a friend.”

  I laughed. “Your dad thought that you were pregnant?”

  “I don’t know which is more upsetting. The fact that he thought I was pregnant or the fact that he didn’t care that I’m not married. I know times have changed, but Mom and Dad have always had strong, traditional values. I guess once your child hits her thirties, they just want grandchildren and they don’t care how it happens.”

  Carefully, I placed Kiwi in the stroller. She yawned and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe they kept this.”

  “They’ve kept just about everything. They wanted to hand everything down to me eventually, but until then, this stuff stays in their attic.”

  “It must be a nice attic. This stroller looks brand-new.”

  “It’s really the third floor of their house. They have a lot of antiques leftover from my grandparents’ houses on both sides that they don’t have room to display, but don’t want to get rid of.”

  “Your parents have a third floor?”

  “It used to be my playroom,” Abby said sheepishly.

  With Kiwi secured, we began to walk around Abby’s block. It was uncomfortably hot and I discreetly swirled my finger to create a pocket of air conditioning. At ten degrees cooler in our pocket, it was simply gorgeous outside.

  “It doesn’t really feel like it’s eighty degrees, does it?” Abby asked. “Maybe my thermometer is broken.” She frowned. “Great, one more thing to fix in the old house.”

  “What else is broken?”

  “I had the floors refinished. After I paid for that, the water heater decided it wanted to stop working and I had to buy a new water heater. It was cheaper to buy a new one than have the old one repaired.”

  “It could always be worse.”

  “My air conditioning could go out on me next. That happened at the school once and a rat died behind the cement block wall.” She frowned. “That was a nasty week. I felt so badly for the science teacher. His room was next to mine. They couldn’t get the rat and, for a few weeks, it stank. He had air refreshers everywhere.”

  “Was it worse than junior year when schools made students dissect cats? My teacher had us bring in scented candles. I think it made it worse. Formaldehyde, dead cat, and scented candles was not the combination I’m sure Mrs. Bridgestone was hoping for.”

  Abby paused mid-step. “You all dissected cats? We just dissected perch and a worm for biology. Budget issues, I guess.”

  “We did for anatomy. It was a great class. I don’t know if I could do something like that today, though. I’d probably cry too much.”

  “Funny how we change opinions as we grow older.”

  “Hey,” I chided. “We’re not old yet.”

  “I feel so much older every time school starts again,” Abby said, sighing. “I once heard a student in the hallway say that the show Are You Afraid of the Dark? was ancient. I used to love watching that show on Saturday nights.”

  “I loved that show! Do you remember renting the orange VHS tapes and feeling awesome for watching those Saturday night shows on a Tuesday?”

  Abby burst into laughter. “I felt so smug. I would be watching those shows and thinking about how everyone else had to wait until Saturday, even though Saturdays showed new episodes.”

  I checked Kiwi to make sure that she wasn’t getting too much sun. She was sleeping, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. We rounded a corner, walking back to Abby’s house. “Have you thought anymore about the gym?”

  “No,” Abby replied lightly. “There’s no way I can get a loan. I wouldn’t be able to put in the time, anyway. I’d have to keep my job at the school and have lesson plans to do, which take a lot more time than they should.”

  “Abby, I think you should go for it.”

  “You’re a lot more optimistic than I am.”

  “You don’t even want to go back to school.”

  “That’s not true,” Abby protested. “I wouldn’t mind it if Lauren Lennox wasn’t there. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon, though. It is what it is.”

  We reached her backyard and she fished her key out of her pocket. I felt badly for my friend; she was only holding herself back.

  “Do you want to take the stroller with you in case you babysit Kiwi again?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid that, if I do, Cecil
y will see it and want it for herself.”

  “Would she really do that?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Your sister-in-law sounds like a real gem,” Abby said, opening the door. “You can borrow it anytime. I’ll keep it in my spare room for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I removed Kiwi from the stroller. Her face mushed together as if she was about to cry. “I know, it’s awful. I woke you up. It’s okay, you’ll be in your car seat soon enough.”

  “You don’t baby talk to infants?” Abby asked, watching us.

  Kiwi grunted in response and a pungent smell filled the living room.

  “Maybe you should start.” Abby laughed and handed me the diaper bag.

  I laid Kiwi down on Abby’s oversized chair. “I think you really need to think about the gym. I think you’re selling yourself short,” I said as I changed Kiwi’s diaper.

  “I’ll throw that into the trash outside.” Abby reluctantly held out her hand to take the soiled diaper as I redressed the baby.

  “Stinky baby,” I said, nuzzling Kiwi’s nose. She turned her head away from me and yawned, unimpressed.

  “Do you honestly think that I have a chance of doing this?” Abby asked when she returned.

  “I do. I’ll help you as much as I can,” I promised.

  She reached into her kitchen drawer and pulled out a small piece of paper. “I’ll think about it some more.” She held up the paper, revealing it to be the fortune she had kept when we were painting her home. “Remember this?”

  “Yes, I remember you got lucky and actually had a fortune in your cookie.”

  She turned over the paper. “This is farfetched, but I’m going to play the lottery with these numbers.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her no, but stopped myself.

  Instead, I said, “Good luck.”

  Abby winked at Kiwi. “This is what we call being foolish. You’ll learn it soon enough, kid.”

  Summer was fading as September began. Abby was purely focused on her students and activities outside of the school, trying her best to ignore Lauren Lennox. Unfortunately, it was more difficult each day to avoid the other teacher. Lauren had formed a clique of her peers that, while they didn’t treat Abby badly, they didn’t actually treat her like anything else. She felt like she had become invisible.