BeSwitched

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BeSwitched Page 4

by Molly Snow


  Chapter 4

  “She’s a witch! She’s a witch! She’s a witch!” the crowd chanted.

  Idis stood at the accused stand, with Surla at her feet. A fat, balding man, who reminded Surla of the History teacher, took his seat as the judge.

  “All right, everyone!” his voice boomed. “Just quiet down! We’ll find out soon enough if this lady here is a witch!”

  “Just look at her nose!” A man in his twenties, wearing a farmer’s hat, pointed.

  “And that black cat!” a plump lady, holding a baby, shrieked.

  “Yeah!” The crowd started up again.

  “Now, settle down!” The judge stood, waving his arms. “If you settle down, this will be over with all the sooner.”

  Instantly the crowd became quiet. The only noise heard was by a lady’s baby, who was now crying.

  “Okay, Idis,” he began, “are you a witch or aren’t you?”

  Idis was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Her hands shook and beads of sweat started running down her forehead. Surla became very worried for her own life. Whatever they would do to Idis, they were sure to do to the cat. If Idis was going to be burned at the stake, then so would she.

  “Well, are you?” The judge pushed for an answer.

  “No,” she finally stated firmly.

  In response, the crowd became more heated with anger. “Liar! Liar! Liar!”

  “All right. All right! I am a witch!” she screamed in rage. “And now I’m going to cast a spell on all of you!”

  Surla was horrified. Is she crazy?! she thought.

  The crowd gasped and became silent. Some ran and ducked away. Surla felt she had to do something and fast, so she jumped onto the judge’s lap, purring and rubbing her head against him. The point is for me to look as sweet and innocent as possible, she thought, so I look like I am not a witch’s black cat. Besides, if I don’t agree in using my magic, then Idis’s spell won’t work.

  Idis threw her arms straight up in the air and yelled, “Shoooraca shum! Mewoka reds! Make everyone this instant have bald heads!” Her head fell back in hysterical laughter, but she soon noticed no one was losing hair. She tried again, but it still didn’t work. Maddened, she stomped her feet. “Bald heads, I said!”

  Everyone looked around, feeling their hair, followed by a roar of laughter.

  “It’s too late, Idis.” The judge rubbed his already balding head. “You don’t scare me. Ladies and gentlemen!” He chuckled. “Oh boy, I guess we came to our conclusion.” He paused to pet Surla. “Good kitty.” Then he looked up again at Idis. “I find this lady not guilty of witchery, but guilty of craziness! So, on behalf of Salem, Massachusetts, I sentence you and your cat to a mad house… or to leave our town. Oh, I guess the kitty can stay if it wants.”

  “Cathy… Cathy.” Surla’s mind slowly came back to History class, as she felt a tapping on her arm.

  “Oh… um, yeah?” She turned to Todd.

  “The teacher has been trying to get your attention.”

  “Oh.” She smiled in embarrassment.

  “I don’t believe you’ve listened to a word I’ve said so far.” The teacher set down his book. “Cathy, what could you possibly be daydreaming about that is more exciting than History?”

  “Actually,” she laughed, “I was thinking about History.”

  “Cathy, pay attention.” He eyed the room, spotting a guy with long hair, resting his head on the desk. “James!”

  “H-huh?” He looked up, his eyes tired.

  “No sleeping in my class.”

  After that, Surla tried really hard to pay attention or at least pretend to pay attention, but anything that came out of the teacher’s mouth sounded like a bunch of blahs. Blah… blah… blah… blah, and soon the bell rang to go to the next class.

  “Hey, Cath.” Todd finished packing his bag. “What were you really daydreaming about?”

  “History.” She half-laughed.

  “Oh.” He looked puzzled. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in Chemistry.”

  “Okay.” Surla smiled, watching him leave as she pulled out her schedule again. P.E., she read. I hope I’ll have luck finding it.

  Back at the house, Cathy was becoming very bored taking naps, drinking milk, and watching TV. She felt the need to get out of the house. After all, it was the sunniest day October had seen so far.

  Cathy sat on a windowsill in the living room, looking out at the bright afternoon with birds chirping and people bicycling. Wait… birds! Cathy saw two blue jays hopping and singing on her driveway. She stared at their feathery, little bodies from a different perspective. How fun it would be to chase one, she thought. “Hold on, Cathy!” she told herself. “You are human, not a cat. So, think human!”

  She sat there, closing her eyes, imagining she was in Craig’s arms. Feeling better about herself, she opened her yellow eyes again and longingly looked outside. “Okay, so I won’t chase birds. Maybe a roll in the grass would be nice, though.”

  With one of her paws, she pulled up the latch, to unlock the window. With the side of her small body, she pushed hard, trying to open it. It didn’t work, so she tried a second time, taking a deep breath before. Again it didn’t budge. Finally, she tried with full force and energy. It worked! The window went ajar a few inches, just enough for her body to slide through and skip a muddy puddle. “Whew! Third time’s a charm.” She pranced around the yard and rolled in the grass. “Ooh, the things we humans take for granted.” The soft, cool grass tickled her back.

  “Grrrr… grrr,” she heard from the next yard over. Cathy remembered the black Labrador, Sadie, from next door. Cathy looked over her shoulder cautiously, and to her relief her eyes followed a silver chain hooking from its neck to a tree. Once again, she rolled in the grass.

  “Grrrrowl! Grrrowl!” Sadie kept on while the chink of the metal leash was heard.

  Don’t worry about her, she comforted herself. Just keep rolling.

  “Rruff! Rruff!” Growls turned into barking and her body leaped, even though he was restrained.

  “Rrrruff!” The sound of metal snapping like a twig, startled Cathy.

  Cathy turned in horror as she saw the slobbery beast darting for her, the broken chain sliding on the ground.

  “AAAAAH!” she screamed and took off to the side yard, where she ran between some garbage cans full of aluminum. Sadie didn’t care; she ran straight through, causing cans to fly in all directions.

  Cathy turned, while still running, noticing the bear-like claws coming closer to her tail. She felt as if her heart was going to leap right out of her furry chest. This was the dog I used to play with after school!

  She soon made it to the other side of the backyard, where a tall wooden fence blocked her from the front yard. This is not good, she thought. Not good at all. She then leaped as high as she could. Her front paws barely touched the top of the fence and without thinking, nails jutted out, hooking into the wood, preventing her from falling. Her back paws scratched, trying to push the rest of her body up.

  Sadie appeared under her in a flash, showing off her sharp teeth. Cathy felt weaker, as if the blood was being drained from her legs. But when Sadie jumped, biting for Cathy’s tail, enough adrenaline rushed through her to make it back over to the front yard.

  She had to sit and catch her breath. The aroma of roses her mother planted last spring was a nice, therapeutic scent. I’ve got to make it back inside, she told herself. The window left open was about ten feet away. She slinked her body like a furry snake in the grass. She was almost there, when the sound of Sadie tromping through the cans, caused Cathy to sit still in fear. Her eyes were stuck on the entrance from the side yard, expecting the dog to come out any second—and she did! Her pink nose lowered to the ground, sniffing intensely around some bushes.

  Cathy looked up. She could see the opening in the window. If she was quick enough, she could make it. Sadie made it over to the peach tree and bit into one of the many fruits fallen to the ground. I could make my move
now, Cathy thought. Oh no! The Labrador’s black, beady eyes made eye contact with hers and the side of her lip curled with a growl.

  “AAAAH!” Cathy scrambled through the muddy puddle and made it up through the window. She was safe. Wet dirty paw prints decorated the windowsill as Sadie whimpered and scratched beneath her, outside. “Down, doggy,” Cathy spoke, happy and unafraid.

  “What are you doing?” an old man came from the house next door, speaking to Sadie in a displeased tone. He walked over to his dog and lifted the broken chain hooked to its neck. “Bad dog! This is the second time you’ve done this to our neighbors.” He waved a finger in disapproval.

  Cathy was laughing inside.

  Sadie craned her neck, looking back at the black cat, while being pulled away home; the black cat who could speak just like that Cathy-girl.

 

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