The Witch, the Saint & the Shoemaker

by Aonghus Fallon

  What happened next was so startling and shocking Melvin couldn’t quite believe his eyes. The instant the woman pointed her staff at the boy, he seemed to shrivel up into nothing. Or not quite nothing. A tiny brown bird fluttered around in the air over the spot where he’d been standing a second before, then vanished into the gorse in a flurry of wings.

  A wren, Melvin realized.

  “One down, one to go!” the queen said with an air of grim satisfaction.

  Melvin would have been quite ready to get down on his knees to beg. What saved him from the same fate as the mysterious boy was the charioteer. The little man muttered something under his breath in a low guttural voice, never letting go of those reins or even bothering to look round at his mistress as he spoke, though she was clearly listening intently.

  “Rubbish!” she snorted. “Sure if the door was still open, why is he still here? If there was a door and it was open, it’s closed now—just as it’s been closed to that other eejit for as long as anyone can remember! Nobody will come looking for this particular laddy-buck—mark my words! Least of all his brother and sisters! Assuming he has any!”

  Melvin didn’t hesitate. “It is open, actually,” he said as coolly as he could. “And I got a brother and two sisters. So there.”

  The queen pursed her lips. “Indeed? Well then maybe you and I need to have a little chat.”

  She sat down and beckoned Melvin to come closer. Melvin knew better than to refuse.

  Once he was within arm’s reach, the queen reached out and grabbed him by his hair, then tilted his head back and stared long and hard into his face. Her eyes were the deepest emerald green, with little gold flecks in them. Once he started looking into them, Melvin found he couldn’t look away.

  Then the strangest thing happened. For a second the queen didn’t look quite so fierce. “Humph!” she said, letting him go. “You’re a big improvement on the other fellah, I’ll say that much for you! What’s your name?”

  “Melvin.”

  “A queer class of a name! Well Melvin, here’s how it is. I don’t care much for children. One child on his own—that’s a different matter. I’ve always wanted a little boy. Some fellah I could take back to my house and rear as my own and teach all my tricks to.”

  Melvin felt his heart do a quick flip inside his chest. “You mean like, magic?”

  He remembered what had happened to the boy. “That was pretty cool—how she just turned him into something else,” he couldn’t help thinking. “I wish I could do that!”

  The queen just nodded. “It’ll mean staying here in Tir-na-Nog with me for good,” she warned.

  Melvin shrugged. “That’s no big deal.”

  “What about your brother and your sisters? Won’t you miss them?”

  “Nope. They’re always bossing me around. Well. Donald is, anyhow. The other two just back him up.”

  The queen tut-tutted. “Isn’t that terrible! Having some big bowsie of a brother ordering you about all day long!”

  Melvin could have cried. Finally. Finally somebody who understood the kind of crap he had to put up with every day!

  “You betcha,” he said hoarsely.

  The queen sat back. “So we’re agreed.” Then she snapped her fingers as if she’d just remembered something. “Hold on. What if they come looking for you?”

  Melvin hadn’t considered this at all. “I guess—I guess I could go back and tell them I’m leaving,” he said lamely. “Or write a note.”

  “I suppose.” The queen was frowning thoughtfully. “Here’s a better idea: why don’t you invite them back here some evening instead?”

  “Here?” Melvin was mystified.

  “Aye. Bring them round to me house for a bite to eat. I’ll explain how I’ve decided to rear you as me own kith and kin. That way, they won’t be worried about you. What do you reckon?”

  “I guess,” Melvin said doubtfully.

  “Good lad! Now tell me about this door. Where is it?”

  Melvin waved at the gorse. “Over there somewhere.”

  The queen grimaced. “Hard to find, so. And harder for some than others, I’ll bet! It was open when you came through it? Is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But it wasn’t you who opened it?”

  “No. Somebody else has the key.”

  “Who? Somebody who’s been traveling between your world and mine?”

  “I guess.”

  “But you don’t know who they are?”

  “Nope. I mean, apart from how the door is really tiny.”

  “Is that so?” The queen was looking very interested now. “Well, well! I think I might have some idea who the culprit is, then! All right. I think you should go back through that door and fetch your brother and sisters before this other character locks it again. And once you’re back here, bring them to me house immediately—it’s out in the middle of yonder bog. See them trees? Off you go now!”

  For once, Melvin knew better than to argue. Instead he turned and scrambled back up through the gorse all over again, while the chariot rattled off on its way. It was lost to sight before he’d even reached the top of the hill.

  It took him ages to find the door again, but he didn’t care. His heart was still singing as he squeezed himself into the narrow hallway and started to wriggle towards the door, his head full of images of being a powerful and terrible wizard.

  It sounded loads more fun than spending the rest of his life being bossed around by Donald and Beverly!

  He only started to have second thoughts standing in the darkness of the girls’ room. The first face he saw, mainly because the moonlight was falling directly onto it, was Penny’s. That was when he remembered Penny had visited Tir-na-Nog before.

  Melvin was pretty certain Queen Ula would do her best to impress his brother and sisters, but this might not be much use if Penny already had definite ideas as to what Queen Ula was like. And the boy had seemed less than impressed by her. There was no guessing what sort of stories Penny might have heard about Queen Ula.

  In other words, Penny might ruin everything.

  Even as Melvin pondered what to do, he heard the scurry of tiny feet on the staircase outside.

  He ran out as quick as he could, but even before he’d reached the third landing, he heard the key turning in the lock and knew the door was locked once again.

  So what was he going to do now?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A couple of days went by—the most miserable days of Melvin’s entire life. He’d never go back to Tir-na-Nog now. And it seemed every time he started to wonder if he could really trust Queen Ula, the others would be mean to him again, and he’d want to go back more than ever, if only so he could learn how to change Donald into a mouse or a fly.

  Then one afternoon (right after he’d just had a big argument with Donald about a word he’d used in Scrabble) he was stomping back upstairs to his room when he passed the tiny bar on the second floor.

  The bar was where Great-Uncle Begley had his daily nap. Melvin could just see the old guy through the half-open door: Great-Uncle Begley was sitting by the fireside in his wheelchair, all dressed in black like a funeral director. His head had already nodded forward onto his chest and the little glass of whiskey he had every day was still untouched.

  But what Melvin really noticed was the black key hanging from a piece of string around his great-uncle’s neck. He suddenly knew what it must be the key to, and so he stopped and hesitated.

  Melvin realized if he were to steal the key and go to Tir-na-Nog, that—whatever about the others—he could never come back. Because when Great-Uncle Begley woke up and saw his key was gone, he’d know one of them must have taken it. And then—as his father was always saying—there’d be Hell To Pay.

  But then he thought about how crummy his life was, and how things were never going to be the same now Mom and Dad had split up, and of the whole new life waiting for him in Tir-na-Nog, and about how the others were always being mean to him, an
d crept back downstairs to the kitchen.

  Luckily for him, it was Mrs. McCready’s day off. Melvin rummaged around in various drawers until he found what he was looking for—a big, black-handled scissors—then went back upstairs. He’d already realized he could never lift the key up over Great-Uncle Begley’s head without waking him.

  Then, step by creaky step, he crept into the little room, inching his way closer and closer to where the old man was snoring away softly to himself, his heart skipping a beat whenever his great-uncle stirred or shifted about in his wheelchair.

  It’s all very well pretending you’ve wandered into say hullo, but this explanation is a lot less convincing if you’re carrying a pair of enormous scissors.

  Finally he was standing right over the wheelchair. Melvin took a long, deep breath, then leant out with the scissors and snipped the string.

  For one sickening moment his great-uncle stopped breathing. But then the old man let out a long low, snuffly snore and while he was doing so, Melvin reached out and snatched the key from where it had come to rest on his dusty black vest.

  A second later he was back out on the staircase, his heart still beating like crazy. Now he had to get the others to go through the door with him, knowing the whole time his great-uncle might wake up any second and find out the key was gone.

  There wasn’t a moment to lose.

  “You guys are not going to believe this.”

  Melvin paused theatrically in the dining-room doorway, his hair tousled, his clothes all messed-up.

  “Melvin!” Beverly said, finally glancing up from her game of cards. “How on earth did you get into such a state?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you—” Melvin said, somewhat plaintively.

  Now Donald was looking at him, his airplane forgotten. Melvin had imagined them all getting up and gathering around him and asking him if he was okay. Donald just looked annoyed. “For crying out loud, Melvin—”

  “Just listen!” Melvin snapped. “I found a door upstairs. A door into another world.”

  Beverly and Donald both rolled their eyes at the same time. Neither of them noticed how Penny was looking straight at Melvin with a funny, tense expression on her face.

  Melvin was relying on Penny keeping her mouth shut. She told the others she’d already been to Tir-na-Nog, they’d want to know why she hadn’t told them before now. They’d be suspicious. Which meant they’d be more inclined to believe his story than her’s. Or so he reckoned.

  “Look, if you don’t believe me, it’s upstairs.” He held up the key. “It’s locked—but guess what? I got the key. She gave it to me.”

  “Where did you get that, Melvin?” Beverly said, frowning. “It looks sort of familiar.”

  “The Queen of Tir-na-Nog gave it to me. She’s this amazing person. Kind and beautiful and—and she’s invited us all round to her palace.”

  “You feeling okay?” Donald snorted, already back at work on his plane.

  Melvin was trying very hard to keep his temper. “You think I’m crazy? Don’t you want to at least go and check?”

  Donald and Beverly exchanged glances, shrugged, and got to their feet. Melvin stood by the door as they were leaving, long enough for Penny to throw him a furious glance.

  Melvin didn’t care. He wasn’t going to tell Penny or the others how he meant to stay in Tir-na-Nog until after they’d reached the witch’s house. Once the queen had explained how she was adopting him, Donald, Beverly and Penny could all go back home and he’d never have to see any of them ever again.

  They all trooped upstairs. Then Donald did as Melvin asked and peered under the table. “Well I’ll be—”

  Melvin handed him the key. Donald took it, crawled under the table and opened the door, his jaw dropping when he peered in through it. “Holy Moses!” he said softly. “You got to take a look at this, Bev.”

  Beverly snorted. “You don’t mean to say he was actually telling the truth?”

  Donald shrugged and sat back. “Looks like it.”

  And then he fell silent.

  Penny watched her brother’s jaws bunch and unbunch and realized Donald was thinking hard. She knew he’d always wanted to go on some big adventure and now he really might end up having one, only—maybe for the first time in his life—her older brother was starting to wonder if this was what he wanted after all.

  “What’s really at the other end of the rabbit hole, Melvin?” Donald asked quietly at last, not even bothering to look up at his kid brother.

  “I already told you.”

  “You told me some beautiful queen wants us to come visit her in her beautiful castle. Frankly that sounds like a load of bull. Especially coming from you.”

  Neither Beverly nor Penny disagreed, and Melvin felt a cold chill in the pit of his stomach. They didn’t buy it. Any of them. “Fine. If you’re scared, just say so.”

  Donald’s ears turned bright red.

  “Donald—” Beverly said anxiously.

  Donald just shook his head. He hated anyone saying he was scared. Then without another word, he wriggled in through the open doorway.

  “Donald! Don’t!” Penny pleaded. But it was too late.

  And then, before Beverly could stop her, Penny had scrambled down onto her hands and knees and vanished through the doorway as well.

  “At least I know my way round. Sort of,” she told herself. “I can stop him getting into any trouble.”

  Donald might have been the oldest, but Penny didn’t think he was all that smart. Brave maybe, but not smart.

  Meanwhile Beverly danced from one foot to the other, wringing her hands. “Guys! Guys! Please come back!”

  But even though she could hear a lot of puffing and grunting and the sound of elbows and feet scuffing off a hard surface in a narrow space, those sounds were growing fainter with every passing minute.

  Beverly started to cry.

  To be fair to Beverly, their mom and dad had spent so little time at home thanks to their different jobs, Beverly had decided long ago she was meant to take care of the others and to make sure they didn’t get into any trouble. And now her brother and her sister had just disappeared through a magic door leading to who-knows-where.

  “You little creep!” she said tearfully at last, turning to Melvin. “If either of them ends up getting hurt because of you—”

  Melvin just shrugged. He was doing his best not to grin from ear-to-ear. Because everything had turned out okay, after all. Beverly was already getting, very slowly and gingerly, down onto the dusty carpet (Beverly hated getting dirty) and squeezing ever so reluctantly in through the tiny doorway.

  Now there was just one person left. Him.

  Donald had left the key in the lock. Melvin took it with him, locking the door from the other side, then inching backwards out of the hallway and into the gorse.

  This time the rain really was pelting down—pelting down out of a sky a shade of purple close to black. Melvin stood up and was just about to put the key in his pocket, when he thought: “Best to be careful, I guess. Supposing I lost it? Then the others would never be able to go home.”

  Seeing as he wanted them to go home as badly as he wanted to stay, Melvin hid the key under a stone just a few feet away from the hallway, then followed the others down through the gorse.

  They were all huddled under the nearest hawthorn.

  “Are the colors here more…intense, or something? Or is it just me?” Beverly sneezed and pulled her cardigan more tightly around her. “That’s the greenest grass I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

  “Maybe it’s the rain?” Donald suggested.

  This was when Penny knew it hadn’t just been her imagination: the grass really was a particularly vivid green (just like Beverly had said) while the sky was a particularly magnificent shade of purple.

  Everything in Tir-na-Nog really was a deeper, richer hue.

  And it wasn’t just the colors. The hawthorn they were standing under (with its crooked trunk and
its gnarled roots) looked like something straight out of a fairytale book.

  “Speaking of the rain, I’m getting absolutely drenched,” Beverly went on. “I say we go back.”

  Melvin’s heart sank.

  “Tell Beverly what you told me,” Donald prompted.

  Penny shivered and hugged her shoulders. “This person who calls herself a queen? She’s really a witch.”

  “How do you know this, Penny?” her sister demanded.

  Penny stared down at her feet, not meeting anybody’s eyes. “I was here before.”

  “So how come you didn’t tell us?”

  Tears filled Penny’s eyes. “Mr. Finnerty told me not to. Besides, I thought the door was locked.”

  Donald turned to Melvin. “A beautiful queen living in a beautiful palace, huh?”

  Melvin’s cheeks turned bright red. Inwardly he was furious. How was he ever going to get the others to come back with him to the witch’s house now?

  “How do you know this Mr Finnerty was telling the truth? He was probably just some guy with a grudge.”

  “Could be. But if I had to choose between you meeting some kind and beautiful queen and ending up best friends, or you getting chummy with some witch—”

  “Donald!” Beverly said. “Don’t be mean.”

  “Okay, Okay,” Donald grumbled. “Here’s what we do. We go visit this friend of Penny’s and hear what he has to say. Agreed?”

  Secretly Donald was still annoyed with himself for being so scared of going through the door, especially now he’d discovered Penny had been here before. And so he was determined not to go back—at least, not right away.

  “I’d sooner go home,” Beverly said faintly, who was already imagining what might have happened if Penny had ended up the witch’s prisoner. “She’d never have come back. We’d just think she vanished into thin air, and it would all have been my fault—well mine and Donald’s—for not taking care of her in the first place.”