by Chloe Mayson
“Meow, meow,” Tom Cat called out.
“No? Why?” Cortney asked looking across the room. Instead of lying on the bed, Tom Cat stood at the window rubbing himself against the window curtains. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Meow,” Tom Cat said as he swatted the curtain with his paw.
“Oh, no! I’m not opening the window and flying outside,” Cortney said shaking her head. “What if I fall?”
“Meow, meow,” Tom Cat said.
“Are you saying I will not fall?”
“Meow.”
“And what in heaven’s name is going to keep me from falling?”
Tom Cat licked his paw.
“Are you sure I will not fall?” Cortney asked.
“Meow.”
“Are you possibly saying that the broomstick will not let me fall?”
“Meow.”
“Tom Cat, if you are lying, you are going to be roadkill! Again!” Cortney said as she grabbed hold of the broomstick and pulled the floating broom across the room. When Cortney let go of the broomstick, it remained in the air. I must be bat dung crazy! She thought as she pulled open the curtains.
It’s a frigging full moon! Now that’s creepy!
Cortney tried to ignore the headstones in the cemetery reflected in the silvery moonlight. She felt creeped out enough without thinking about the dead. Could they rise from the grave like zombies? Cortney’s world had been turned upside down. She no longer knew what was possible and what wasn’t.
“Meow?”
“Don’t rush me. This is a big step for me. It requires a leap of faith that I’m not sure I have in me,” Cortney confessed. “I mean maybe I am hallucinating and nothing I’ve seen tonight is real. If that’s the case and I go out the window on a broomstick, and it’s all an illusion, I’ll fall to my death.”
“Meow, meow.”
“Hey, I don’t have nine lives like you. If I die, I don’t want to come back or at least not as a ghost like Chester. If Chester really is a ghost,” Cortney said as she stared out the window. I guess if I don’t want to break my neck flying around the room I have to fly outside, Cortney thought as she raised the window and stuck her head out.
The cold night air felt refreshing. Cortney looked at the rising moon visible through the window as she straddled the broomstick. Here goes nothing, she thought. She started to give the broomstick a mental command to fly out the window, but chickened out at the last moment.
“I can’t do this! It’s insane! Everything that’s happened to me since I started this trip is crazy!” Cortney said as she glanced down at Tom Cat. “I didn’t ask for any of this! I wished I had told Frank to go fly a kite when he called me to tell me about my inheritance,” Cortney said shaking her head.
Tom Cat put his head against Cortney’s leg and tried to nudge it forward.
“Yes, I get it. You want me to fly through the window,” Cortney said.
“Meow.”
“But if I do this, there’s no turning back is there? It’s a declaration that I’m a witch,” Cortney said.
“Meow.”
“Rats! Who am I kidding? My life in Malvern was dreadful. I had a terrible job, a no-good boyfriend, and a crappy apartment. I barely had enough money to take in a movie now and then. My life was pathetic.” Cortney declared.
Cortney clung to that thought as she hunched over and gave the broomstick a mental command to fly through the window. As she felt the broom rise in the air, Cortney closed her eyes. If I die, don’t let me turn into a ghost like Chester, she thought as the broomstick moved forward slowly.
Feeling the cool night air against her face, Cortney opened her eyes.
I’m flying!
She glanced down and screamed. The houses of Bayou George looked like dollhouses as the broomstick flew over the town. She tightened her grip on the handle until they cramped, as images of falling off the broomstick flashed through Cortney’s mind.
However, as she left the town behind and flew over the vast swamp surrounding Bayou George, Cortney started to relax. Her confidence grew. The paralyzing fear she had experienced the moment she had flown out of the window vanished.
This is freedom! Cortney thought as the wind blew through her hair. If this is what being a witch is, then I’m glad I am one! As she directed the broomstick to circle the outer edge of Bayou George, Cortney tried to finally accept the fact that she was, without a doubt, a witch. The acknowledgment made a lie of everything she believed. Airborne on a broomstick, flying high above the trees, finally proved to Cortney her new reality.
Time to return! Cortney thought as she glanced up at the moon. She wanted to keep flying, but her eyes felt heavy. She feared she might fall asleep and slip off the broomstick. Besides, her knees felt tired. She was using them to cling to the handle of the broom.
As she raced over Bayou George, she suddenly heard something zip through the air near her head. A moment later she heard a rifle shot.
Someone shot at me!
Faster! Fly home as fast as possible! Cortney gave the mental command to the broomstick.
Suddenly Cortney felt a hurricane force wind batting against her face. She feared that the wind would peel her off the broomstick and struggled to grip the handle harder. Even as she did, she felt herself beginning to slip.
I’m going to fall!
The broomstick slowed down abruptly. Cortney managed not to flip over the end of the broom as she had done in the bedroom. To her surprise, Cortney realized that the window lay just ahead. She bent down hugging the broomstick as it flew through the opened window.
Once inside the bedroom, Cortney loosened her grip on the handle of the broomstick. She immediately fell onto the floor.
“Meow?”
“Okay, so I’ve got to learn how to dismount,” Cortney said as she struggled to stand on her rubbery legs. She had to grab hold of the bedpost to keep from falling. “It’s not as easy as it looks,” she added as Tom Cat licked his paw.
“Tom Cat! Someone shot at me!” Cortney called out suddenly recalling the whizzing of the bullet past her head. “Someone tried to kill me!”
“Meow, meow.”
“Yes, someone fired a rifle at me as I flew back home,” Cortney said. “Frank was right. Whoever killed Aunt Morticia is trying to kill me,” Cortney said as she hurried to close the window and pull the curtains.
“I have to find who poisoned my aunt before they kill me!” Cortney said as she turned away from the window and realized that the broomstick still floated in the air.
“Tom Cat, I’ve never felt so free as I did riding that broomstick. I felt like I belonged on it! That I was truly alive for the first time in my life,” Cortney said as she grabbed the broom and pulled it across the room to the closet.
“Tom Cat, does the broomstick have a name?”
“Meow.”
“What is its name. Gee, you can’t tell me. God, I wish you could talk. I want to know the broomstick’s name,” Cortney said as she stood the broom in the corner of the closet by the door.
Tom Cat walked up to Cortney and started moving his right paw over the carpet.
“You can write? Hmm, I didn’t see that coming,” Cortney said. “Okay, spell out the broomstick’s name.”
H-I-L-D-E-G-A-R-D
“Hildegard,” Cortney repeated the name that Tom Cat spelled out on the carpet. “That’s a nice name. It’s strong,” Cortney said. “It sounds like one of the women warriors from one of those God-awful Wagner operas,” Cortney said as she walked back to the closet. She glanced in the corner of the closet. “Thanks for the wonderful ride, Hildegard,” Cortney said.
Chapter Six
“Did you sleep well?” Frank asked as Cortney entered the dining room with Tom Cat.
“You could have warned me that a ghost lived in the bedroom next to mine,” Cortney replied as she took a seat at the opposite end of the table.
“Would you have believed me?” Frank asked as he stared at Cortney
with his brown eye, while he eyed his fried eggs with his blue one.
How does Frank do that with his eyes? Cortney thought. “I guess, I wouldn’t have believed you,” she admitted. “Bayou George seems to be governed by a different reality than the rest of the world. The impossible seems to be the norm here,” she added.
“Did you faint when you met Chester?” Frank asked with a smirk on his ugly face.
Cortney thought about lying for a moment but decided that it wouldn’t serve a purpose. “Yes, I screamed and fainted. Now, are you happy?”
“You are such a delicate flower,” Frank said as he watched Mildred serve Cortney eggs. “Ah, was that you I saw flying across the night sky on a broomstick?” he asked staring at Cortney with both eyes.
“Yes. I rode Hildegard out to the swamp,” Cortney admitted.
“How did you know the broomstick’s name?”
“Tom Cat spelled out its name with his paw,” Cortney said.
“Meow,” Tom Cat said as he raised his head from his bowl of milk.
“So, now, do you believe you are a witch?” Frank asked.
“Yes, although I can’t completely wrap my mind around the fact, there’s no denying that I am indeed a witch,” Cortney replied.
“Did you enjoy flying under a full moon?” Frank asked.
“I did until someone took a shot at me with a rifle,” Cortney said.
Frank’s body stiffened. “Someone tried to kill you?!” he shouted.
“Yes, I don’t know why else they would be shooting at me if it weren’t to kill me,” Cortney said.
“You should have reported the attempt to me immediately!” Frank said in a cold tone. “I would have searched for them.”
“It was dark. I don’t even know the direction the shot came from. How could you have located the shooter?” Cortney asked.
“I would have sniffed them out with my acute sense of smell,” Frank said.
“But you wouldn’t have had their scent,” Cortney said puzzled at how Frank could sniff out a person without the scent.
“Gunpowder. I could have located the shooter by the scent of gunpowder,” Frank explained.
“Then go for it,” Cortney said.
“No, it's too late. The scent from the rifle shot has dissipated by now,” Frank informed Cortney with raised eyebrows, which were strange looking because of the different length of his eyebrows.
It was as though the doctor sawed two people in half and fitted them together.
“Are you disturbed by my looks, Miss Cortney?” Frank asked.
“You look similar to a fictional character in a book I once read,” Cortney said.
“Oh, that one. I should have never done the interview with Mary. She twisted the facts. Mary completely ignored the facts of my case. She made no mention of the carriage accident that killed my brother and me. Made up a story about a doctor digging up bodies and sewing parts of them together to make a monster. But she did get one thing right, Dr. Stein had to harness the electric discharge of a lightning bolt to restart my heart. However, as you can see, I’m no monster that goes around killing people,” Frank said.
“Wow, and I thought it couldn’t get any weirder,” Cortney said without thinking. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you are weird, Frank. It’s just your circumstances that are strange,” she added.
“Yes, it was a medical miracle,” Frank replied. “I’m one lucky man.”
Or two. I wonder if Frank has one brain or two? His head is rather large for his body, Cortney thought.
“But the book was written a long time ago, and you don’t look your age,” Cortney said trying to be delicate with the question.
“I don’t age. I guess it had something to do with the electrical discharge from the lightning bolt. It seemed to have done some weird things to my cells.”
“What occupation did you work at before the accident? Cortney asked.
“My brother and I were doctors. I tried to resume my profession after the accident but… Well, with my looks, it was impossible to get patients. Morticia knew of my situation very well, and hired me as a footman,” Frank explained.
“I guess Chester was my aunt’s butler back then,” Cortney said.
“Yes, but I watched him closely and learned how to act like a butler. And when he died of smallpox, Miss Morticia promoted me to butler,” Frank explained.
“I see,” Cortney said as she swallowed a forkful of eggs. She glanced over at Mildred standing beside the door to the kitchen. The old crone seems to be the only normal person in the house, Cortney thought.
“You said at dinner last night that you were going to investigate Miss Morticia’s death. Are you still inclined to do so?” Frank asked.
“Yes, I’m going to the police station this morning to ask about the case. Would you like to accompany me?”
Frank shook his head violently. “No, I never leave the house — the fewer people that see my condition, the better. I made the mistake of trying to assimilate with the local population once and got run out of town by people carrying pitchforks. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, and one I would rather not repeat. In the dreadful novel, the author had them burning me alive. Reading the end of the novel traumatized me for years,” Frank said with a sad sigh.
“Yes, I don’t want the good folks of Bayou George burning down the house before I inherit it,” Cortney said. And sell it, she thought to herself. “Frank, do I really have to work as a waitress in the diner?” Cortney asked.
“Yes, it was your aunt’s wishes. I think she wanted you to be accepted in the community. And what better way to meet people, and show your humility, than working as a waitress in the Sweet Shop Diner,” Frank said as he glared at Cortney with both his brown eye and his blue eye.
“Well, Pop is going to have to handle the diner this morning. I’m going to the police station,” Cortney declared.
“I advise against going to the police. But if you do, you must not reveal that you are a witch. We keep the practices of the hidden arts from the citizens of Bayou George,” Frank said.
“Hidden arts? What are you talking about?” Cortney asked.
“I’ll explain everything to you tonight,” Frank said. “Oh, go ahead to the police station. If you cause a disturbance with the police, I’ll have one of the council members clean up the mess. You seem to need things proven to you,” Frank added.
“You are talking in riddles, Frank. Are you sure Mildred didn’t slip some booze in your coffee?” Cortney said.
“You will find the police chief is a, oh, what’s the local term, redneck! He’s a redneck. He hates Barnaby House. He calls it a blight on Bayou George,” Frank said.
“Surrounded by a smelly, alligator-infested swamp, I don’t see how anything could be a blight on the town. If you ask me, Bayou George is a blight on the swamp,” Cortney said and giggled.
Frank didn’t laugh.
“You must grow to love Bayou George, Miss Cortney,” Frank said in a serious tone. “It is your home!”
I don’t like the way he said that! It was as though he meant my home forever! Cortney thought. Little does he realize that when the year is up, I’m going to grab the cash, sell this spooky old mansion and move to New Orleans.
Cortney summoned up a serious tone. “Yes, it is my home. And I’m sure I’ll grow fond of it.”
“Great,” Frank said as he stood up from the table. “I’ve got lots of work to do.”
Gee, Frank is well over six and a half feet tall. I missed that the first time I met him. His scarred face captured my full attention.
“Yes, I guess a butler’s job is very taxing,” Cortney said.
“Well, it is, in fact, but I’m writing a biography of Miss Morticia in remembrance of her,” Frank said.
“Really? Be sure to let me read it once you finish. I know practically nothing about my aunt. I do hope you include material on my parents. The only thing I know about them is that they died in an automobile accident when I was
a year old,” Cortney said.
“Yes, I will,” Frank said. However, the tone of his voice suggested otherwise.
Hmm, I think he’s hiding something from me about my parents, she thought as she watched Frank lumber out of the room as though it was hard to coordinate the movements of his different size feet.
“Tom Cat? Are you ready to go to the police station?”
“Meow, meow.”
“You better get ready. I’m not walking into the lion’s den alone,” Cortney said. “So, bring your huevos and let’s go to the police station.”
“Meow, meow, meow,” Tom Cat protested.
“Whatever,” Cortney said as she walked out of the dining room with a reluctant black cat following her.
As Cortney walked outside, she took note of the barren yard. She didn’t see even one blade of grass. The cemetery looked equally barren. She wondered if there might be something in the soil prohibiting plant growth.
Maybe the grounds were salted like back in biblical times. Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to sell the property the first chance I get, she thought as she cranked her car.
Cortney glanced back at the house, surprised to see the door open again, and a large gray ferret emerging from inside. The creature quickly scampered around the side of the house.
Hmm, I guess Frank has a pet ferret. It’s strange that he lets it out of the house, Cortney thought as she pulled away from the house. Following the driveway through the cemetery, Cortney glanced at Tom Cat. “Don’t pout. It’s not becoming for a familiar to pout. Aren’t you supposed to be my servant?”
“Meow, meow, meow.”
“Wrong answer. The right answer is one meow, and you know it,” Cortney said.
“You aren’t afraid of the chief of police, are you?” Cortney asked.
“Meow, meow.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Cortney sang.
Tom Cat hissed.
“Oh, did I catch you in a lie? I’m beginning to think you left your huevos back in the house,” Cortney said and laughed.