Pumpkins and Potions

by Tegan Maher

  My fiancé, Wolf Harper, had been hovering for some time, and he finally reached across the table and snagged a cupcake before I could stop him. I swatted at his arm, which only made him laugh as he peeled back the wrapper. He shoved the entire cupcake in his mouth and grinned.

  Maui let out a disgusted groan. “No, no. I stand corrected. That is utterly revolting.” He leapt from the table onto the nearby counter and plopped down on his haunches.

  “Your cupcakes are merely…” he paused and tilted his head to the side.

  “I just love how you’re trying to find the perfect word to insult me. Any of them will do, you know.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to the table, positioning the last cupcake on the cupcake tower I’d purchased just for the occasion.

  When I was really little, my favorite holiday had been my birthday. Sometime around age six, my father had woefully informed me that my birthday didn’t technically count, so I’d settled on my second favorite—Halloween.

  During a social studies lesson, my third-grade teacher had tried to convince me that favoring Halloween didn’t make any sense. She had been adamant that Christmas was far superior. After all, didn’t I like presents? I’d listed all the reasons why I liked Halloween so much, but she’d persisted. I’m not sure why winning an argument with an eight-year-old was on her to-do list that day, but she’d picked the wrong eight-year-old. Never one to back down, I’d told her imaginary monsters weren’t scary. What was truly scary was the idea that at least one night a year, a man could just waltz right into your house as long as he was wearing a red suit and a fake white beard. I told her and an entire room full of children that it would be the perfect cover for a serial killer, and then, for my grand finale, I announced that I was going to stay up that year and call the cops as soon as I saw Santa’s jolly old butt drop down into my fireplace. Thirty-eight-year-old had burst into tears, and I’d been ushered to the principal’s office.

  In hindsight, my lifelong love for Halloween made sense. Afterall, isn’t All Hallow’s Eve every witch’s favorite holiday?

  Harper tossed the empty cupcake wrapper into the trash bin and reached for a black plastic cup stacked next to one of the punch bowls.

  “Are you going to eat and drink everything before anyone else gets here?” I asked.

  He winked, bringing the cup to his lips and finished it off in one gulp. “Not too bad. What is this?”

  “It’s called Pumpkin Spice Punch,” I said.

  Granny had wandered over to join us, and was surveying the selection of snack and treats that I was arranging on the table.

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the lollipop-like contents in a black vase.

  “Looks like eyeballs,” Harper said.

  Granny’s eyes shot in his direction. “Wow. Thanks. I had no idea you were going as Captain Obvious this year.”

  Harper chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. Granny had only been able to show her ghostly form for a couple of months, and Harper delighted in teasing her. She pretended to to hate it, but I knew she enjoyed their banter just as much as he did.

  “Those are cake pops,” I explained, “Decorated to look like eyeballs, as Captain Obvious pointed out.”

  She nodded, but her forehead puckered as her eyes moved around the table. “You really outdid yourself.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “That wasn’t a compliment.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, I’ve known all these broads way longer than you have. Throw a pack of string cheese and bag of chips on the table and they’ll be fine.”

  I rolle dmy eyes. “This isn’t just for the coven party, Granny. The store is still open for another few hours and customers will be coming in. Plus, I have a bunch of candy to pass out to kids.”

  “Whatever you say.” She tossed her hands in the air, her go-to when she thought you were wrong, but she didn’t care enough to argue about it.

  “Are you sticking around tonight?” I asked her.

  She snorted, lurching forward and clutching her belly while she laughed.

  Harper and I exchanged a confused look.

  “I’m guessing that’s a no,” he said.

  “Captain Obvious strikes once again.” Granny pointed her finger in the air.

  “I do what I can,” Harper mumbled, reaching for a second cupcake.

  I narrowed my eyes in warning, but he stuck out his lower lip and as much I tried to fight it, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “All right, so what are you doing tonight, Granny?” I asked.

  “Well, let’s see,” she tapped her finger against her chin and began to pace. “I’m a ghost—not just a ghost, a witch ghost—and it’s Halloween. What do you think I’m going to do?”

  She peered at me over the top of her glasses.

  “Come into the forest with us for the Halloween rituals and celebration?”

  She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No, absolutely not.”

  “But why?”

  I’d sort of assumed she’d want to be there with her coven, even if she couldn’t participate as a living witch anymore. Besides, what else does a ghost have to do?

  “Because if I never have to attend another ritual again, it’ll still be too soon. I hate those things,” she said fervently.

  “Seriously?” I balked.

  “Yes,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I’ve always hated them. They’re so boring.”

  “Granny!”

  “What? They are. Don’t you remember last year? It was your first and you were still bored.”

  I lowered my eyes, pretending to busy myself with removing cat hair from my shirt. “I wasn’t bored.”

  “Oh, bull crap. You could barely keep your eyes open. Once I even caught you nod off and jerk yourself awake.”

  “Okay, fine. It was boring. I mean, not the whole time. Just the part where Dorothy droned on and on and on,” I said.

  “Yeah, and she does it every year. Without fail,” Granny groused.

  “Couldn’t you just… have told her to shut up?” Harper used his thumb to swipe at a bit of frosting on the corner of his mouth.

  “No. It’s an important ritual and we don’t want to disrespect Mother Nature. It’s not the ritual that’s the problem. It’s that she acts like it’s her freakin’ Broadway debut every time. The theatrics, the dramatic pauses.” Granny rolled her eyes and swatted her hand at the air.

  “Why didn’t you get someone else to do it then?” Maui asked, jumping onto the arm of the chair. “You’ve had a lifetime to find a replacement.”

  “Because.” Granny averted her gaze, suddenly captivated by the pattern on the chair that had been in the store for the last ten years.

  “Because why?” I pressed.

  “It’s just the way it is, okay.” She jutted her chin in the air and looked away.

  “I know why,” Harper announced through a mouthful of his third cupcake.

  “Babe, will you please stop eating everything?”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled with a noncommittal shrug.

  I didn’t buy it for a second, but I decided not to argue. I wanted to hear his theory first.

  “So, why do you think it is?”

  “Well,” he wiped his mouth with a napkin and took a few slow strides until he was standing next to me instead of hiding behind me so he could sneak food.

  “Think about it.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and regarded Granny carefully.

  After a beat, she looked up and gave him a side-long glance.

  “I think it’s safe to say that Granny isn’t exactly one to mince words. She doesn’t beat around the bush or waste any time trying to spare someone’s feelings. As much as she says she hates the way Dorothy performs the ritual, it’s peculiar that she has allowed it go on for for so long.”

  He held his finger in the air, about to make his point. “Which can only mean one thing. Granny isn’t made of stone.”

  Bear snorted, choking out a laugh from his spot o
n the floor. “Course not, Boss. Who would think that?”

  Maui made a tut-tut sound. “Dru, how long are we going to entertain the idea of housing that beast?”

  “Be nice,” I hissed. “You know he could eat you right?”

  “Oh please. He’d have to catch me first and the poor bloke gets winded just standing up.”

  Harper cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the room. “As I was saying, Granny here, allowed Dorothy to perform the ritual because it meant so much to her and Granny didn’t have the heart to take that away.”

  “Oh, please.” Granny waved her hand at him and forced a laugh. “She has to do it because she’s the only one that can. That’s all.”

  She shrugged, pulling her cardigan tight around herself.

  “Oh?” Harper cocked an eyebrow. “And what ritual is it then?”

  Granny opened her mouth, but he interjected.

  “And feel free to be very specific. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m the only person in. this room other than you who has lived with magic their whole lives. And being a guardian, well, I had to do my fair share of studying witch magic too. If it’s important enough to perform under a full moon on Halloween, then I’m sure I know it.”

  A half grin crept on his face and he rocked back on his heels.

  Granny’s eyes flickered with aggravation as she scowled at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  He looked down at his watch, a smile fully formed on his face. “I do and I’m going to be late if I don’t get going. But don’t worry, I’ll be back right after and we can finish our chat then.” He turned to me and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I should be done around nine.”

  The Blackwood Bay Police Department put on a haunted house every year and as Sargent, Harper had pulled rank and taken an earlier shift so we could still spend part of the evening together.

  “Okay. And what time are you meeting everyone?” I asked.

  Halloween could be a little tough on couples, especially if they weren’t of the same magical sort. As a witch, I would be spending the late-night hours with my coven celebrating the gift of magic. Those of us who needed them would charge crystals in the moonlight and we’d performing rituals around a bonfire that would heighten our intuition and strengthen our bond. The bonfire wasn’t necessary, but the Pacific Northwest is cold and wet by the time October rolls around, and no one wants to freeze their butt off all night… even for magic.

  Harper, on the other hand, was a shifter. They didn’t run in packs or create factions like covens, but they all had a strong connection and a sense of family. Each Halloween, they too met in the woods, but their ritual—if you could call it that—just consisted of a lot of running around and howling at the moon.

  “We’re linking up around eleven, but I should be back home around one. Do you want me to wait for you and walk you home?”

  Granny snorted back a laugh. “You do know that A, she’ll be walking back with a dozen powerful, experienced witches, and B—which is even more relevant than a—that she herself is the most powerful being in Blackwood Bay. Heck, maybe even the world.”

  She peered at him over the top of her glasses. “You do know that, right? The most dangerous thing in this town is that white-haired woman standing next to you.”

  Harper sighed. “Yes, I know, but I’m still both her guardian and her fiancé. Worrying and protecting her isn’t something I can help.” He paused, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Just like you can’t help caring about Dorothy’s joy more than your own.”

  Granny glared at him, her nostrils flaring in exasperation. “I swear on every god and goddess I can think of, if you don’t stop saying crap that like I will—”

  “All right, all right.” Harper held up his hands in defense and turned to face me.

  I pulled him in for a quick hug goodbye. “No, it’s okay. Like Granny said, I’ll be walking back with the girls anyway.”

  “Maybe one of these years we can ditch everyone and do something just the two of us.”

  “You know how much I’d love that, but I kind of have to be there. The most powerful witch can’t really no show.” I pulled back and smiled up at him.

  “Fine. I guess I’m stuck racing around the forest every Halloween for the rest of my life then,” he teased.

  “Maybe. But at least we get to come home to each other.”

  “True. I’m looking forward to snuggling up under a blanket and watching scary movies with you later. Especially with how cold it is tonight.”

  “Are you really complaining about the cold?” Granny asked. “You’re a shifter for crying out loud. Just pick something with a coat that can survive in the Antarctic.”

  Shifters weren’t restricted to any specific creature. They could shift into anything they pleased, though I’d been told that on Halloween, wolves were standard given the whole howling at the moon thing. It also made the most sense when it came to staying inconspicuous in a human town. Wolves in a forest howling at the moon? No big deal. A wild lion? A horse? That would definitely draw some attention.

  “You know that won’t work. Besides, you ladies get to cozy up around a nice warm fire all night. I’ll be in the dark, wet forest.”

  “It could be worse.” Granny shrugged.

  “I suppose. All right, I’m out of here or the haunted house won’t have its headless horseman,” Harper said.

  “Headless Horseman?” Granny cocked any eyebrow.

  They shared an inexplicable smile, and something passed between them, but neither said a word.

  “Okay, I really do have to go now. I’ll see you tonight.” Harper gave me a quick peck before heading out the door, and my curiosity had been piqued.

  I watched him walk down the sidewalk toward the police station and simultaneously kept my eyes peeled for trick-or-treaters. The streets were fairly quiet, but I’d hope it would pick up after dinnertime.

  I poured myself a cup of punch and sat down on the couch opposite Granny.

  “So what was that headless horseman joke between you two?” I tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Joke?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Yeah, you said at least you don’t have to worry about the headless horseman, and he smiled like he knew what you were talking about. I thought maybe you guys had joked about it earlier or something.”

  “Wait,” she shifted in her seat to lean forward and adjusted her glasses. “No one has told you this story yet?”

  “Well, since I just asked what you guys were talking about, I think the answer is obvious. If there is a story, I haven’t heard it yet.”

  S she looked over at Maui still sitting next to her and licking his paw.

  He paused, mid-lick, and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t look at me, old woman. How was I supposed to know no one told her. I assumed last Halloween it would’ve come up.”

  “Yeah, I would’ve assumed the same.” Granny shook her head in disapproval.

  “And if not, I would’ve thought that you would be keen to tell her yourself. After all, you love bragging about yourself.”

  “I don’t brag. I simply relay facts and information. If someone chooses to admire me for it, well,” she shrugged a shoulder. “I can’t really help that, now can I?”

  Maui leapt from the chair onto my lap, and settled in.

  “All right. Let’s hear it then.” He rested his chin on my leg and let out a soft purr.

  “How has everyone already heard this story but me? Is it from a kid’s book or something? Did you dress up for Halloween one year as the headless horseman?”

  Granny considered me carefully, one eyebrow slightly raised. She pulled a deep breath in through her nose, and let it out slowly. “Dru, this isn’t some story about a stupid Halloween costume or a kids’ ghost story. This is something that really happened.”

  “Wait, with the headless horseman guy?” I screwed up my face. “But he’s not real.”

  She widened her eyes.
“Oh, yes he is. He’s very real.”

  “Oh, Granny, come on,” I scoffed, setting my empty cup on the table between us. “I’m not falling for some stupid Halloween prank.”

  “It’s not a prank, Dru.” She locked eyes with me for a moment, but then she averted her gaze. “But if you don’t want to hear it, suite yourself. I should get going anyway.”

  I considered my options. I still had a good twenty minutes or so before my coven members started arriving, Harper was at the haunted house, Maui and Bear would both snooze the night away, and if Granny left, I’d just be sitting in the store alone surrounding by a dozen delicious desserts and no other way to pass the time.

  “Okay, fine,” I said hurriedly, “I want to hear it.”

  The slightest hint of a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she shifted in her seat, preparing for whatever wild tale she was about to share with me.

  She rested her elbows on the arms of the chair and folded her hands across her midsection.

  “This happened… oh, about twenty years ago now—maybe longer. On a Halloween night very much like this one, right here in Blackwood Bay.”

  I stifled my laughter. “Man, all you need is a flashlight under your chin and that would’ve been the perfect intro for a campfire story.”

  She glowered at me. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’m leaving. Don’t waste my time.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry, Granny. Please, continue.”

  She waited for a full beat before she started again. And this time, I listened.

  Granny

  There are two things I like about Halloween, and neither of them have anything to do with being a witch. One, candy. I know I’m a grown adult who can buy herself candy any day of the year, but there’s a special sort of magic about Halloween candy that we just never grow out of.

  And two, costumes. I like seeing kids running up and down the street dressed up as their favorite superhero or princess. Of course, there is always the kid who thinks outside the box—the hobo standing on my porch squished between three supermans and a handful of princesses. But those ones are my favorite. The kids that make you think, huh weird costume, but I’ll give you point for creativity.