Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3

by Marsha A. Moore

  Her eyes moved across my face, and she flashed me a kind smile. “Anytime” She waved her hand down the stairs. “There’s oatmeal on the stove. Help yourself to juice, milk, whatever’s in the fridge. I’ll clean up, and then we need to see what you have to wear tonight for the coven’s night at the haunted cabin. We wear black clothes and hooded capes.”

  My brows shot up.

  She laughed and shook her head. “The idea is to give the ghouls a good test in detecting clients coming through the attraction. A dress rehearsal.”

  “That sounds so fun.”

  “It is.” She smiled. “The boys love it. Do you have anything black to wear?”

  I leaned against the white banister marred by wear. “I have a black button front shirt and black boots.”

  “Hmm. It’s what’s below the cape that will show. I’ll look in my things while you have breakfast.” She walked quickly down the long hallway, and pale pink roses on the wallpaper trailed along on their vines after her.

  My jaw went slack. I stood watching the wallpaper drift back to its normal pattern when she reached for the handle of her bedroom door. I called after her, “What’s with these moving flowers on the wallpaper and the leaves jumping into Toby’s car after the boys this morning?”

  She gave a tinkling laugh. “Oh, that’s just Toby’s dead relations who once lived here. Uncle Charlie was meticulous about the lawn and gardens. He shows his displeasure with Toby’s lack of upkeep by adding leaves, snow, grass clippings, gravel, whatever’s handy to his great grandson’s car. And Toby’s dear Aunt Rose selected this wallpaper decades back. She keeps tabs on the family’s doings through her flowers. Downstairs in the entry and parlor, too.”

  I stared at Cerise for a moment before I found words. “You mean the spirits of passed on family know what you all are doing? That’s creepy.”

  She shrugged and shot me a grin. “Just part of life here. If you think this is odd, I’ll have to take you to our cemetery sometime.”

  My eyes widened.

  Cerise smiled and stepped into her room.

  I descended the stairs, following the smell of toast into the large kitchen. White cabinets reflected cheery morning light streaming through the window above the porcelain sink. I fixed my meal, eager for tonight’s event and my first real meeting with the Coon Hollow Coven folk. I ate standing in the sunshine. My witch’s element was the sun. From the buttery blond color of my hair, everyone back home predicted that would be my power source, long before I reached the age of ten and could formally make my witch’s connection. They’d been so sure, they gave me the same name as my grandmother Agatha that means fire. Thankfully, that got shortened to Aggie, or I might have died having such an old name. The sun’s warmth invigorated me and strengthened my resolve to meet whatever real or made-up curse existed around my future home.

  While I cleaned up and sipped my mug of coffee, Cerise scampered down the stairs calling out, “I found these two black skirts in my closet.” She held out the garments. “See if they fit. I’m wearing a dress and won’t need them tonight.”

  I took the skirts and held one to my waist. “You’re so tiny. I don’t even have to try this on.”

  “Well, in that case, let me make some calls. This may be tricky since most of the coven’s seamstresses will be closing shop early to get ready for tonight.” She pressed a few buttons on her cell phone, then tapped her neat red fingernails on the counter while holding the phone to her ear. “Hello, Midge? It’s Cerise. How long will you be open today? Toby’s cousin from New Wish will be going tonight and needs a black outfit.” She listened and a frown formed on her face. “Do you know who might be open for customers?” She thanked the woman and disconnected, immediately pressing other buttons. “No answer. Darn.” Her next attempt reached a person. “Hi, Shireen. I need a favor. Please say you’ll let me come by to shop.” She leaned against the white tiled counter. “Great! Thanks. I’ll be there right away.” Cerise nodded my way. “Go get ready. She’ll only be open for two hours.”

  I ran upstairs, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and gathered my hair into a lopsided ponytail. I tossed on a pair of straight-leg jeans, a plaid shirt, and my usual work boots. With my canvas backpack and tan corduroy jacket in hand, I thumped my boots down the two flights of stairs and called to Cerise, “Ready.”

  At the back door leading from the kitchen, I met Cerise, who wore a fitted peplum jacket over her cotton shirtwaist dress.

  While she drove, I enjoyed the valley’s rolling hills. The region was more open than the steep cliffs along the Ohio River of New Wish, and the old Roadmaster chugged up to some open vistas. Yellow and red-tinged maples carpeted the land in every direction. I took a deep inhale trying to breathe in the expanse. The promise of new experiences overwhelmed me.

  After fifteen or so minutes, we turned onto a lane that cut into a stand of pines. A log cabin with a limestone front stood at the end of the drive. The place looked like many homes in New Wish. Since this was the only place Cerise could find, I hoped the clothes didn’t look like what women wore back home.

  She parked and directed me to the front door. Inside, the smell of freshly starched ironing tickled my nose. A large calico cat rushed up and hissed at me.

  A plump woman, who appeared to be in her mid-forties, lumbered to greet us with a wide smile. “Welcome. Don’t mind Tiber. He’s just lookin’ for a way to get out of helpin’ me with chores.” She stooped and swept the well-fed cat into one arm and waved us into a room filled with garments hanging from hall trees, clotheslines, and coat racks in every corner. Shelves bulging with folded items lined the hallways. “What can I help you ladies with?”

  “Shireen, I’d like you to meet Toby’s cousin from New Wish. This is Aggie Anders.”

  I thrust out my hand to the grinning shop owner. With the clasp of our hands, I read her curiosity.

  “Hello, Aggie. Are you a witch or a commoner from New Wish?”

  “I’m a witch.” I gave her a polite smile. As her fingers slipped away, heat of anxiety about my witchcraft rushed over her skin like a fever.

  Cerise stepped among the hanging clothes. “She’s going to be living in my old property. We need something black for her to wear tonight.”

  “Well then, I have plenty of capes over this way.”

  The calico leapt from her arm and took a stance between her mistress and me, hissing and baring tiny pointed teeth.

  Having dealt with enough stray tomcats around my family’s barn, I moved ahead without worry, until the creature spat a shower of sparks onto my boots. I jumped back. “What the heck?”

  “Tiber, stop that!” Shireen ordered. “Land sakes. She’s just a different kind of witch.” I wondered if Shireen was trying to convince herself as well as the cat.

  The cat backed off but stayed next to her legs.

  Cerise took a firm hold of my arm and whispered. “The cat is her familiar. It can use some of Shireen’s powers. Some witches here like to use familiars.”

  Tiber looked like any old cat to me, but with those sparks of his, I gave him plenty of space.

  “He’s being bad, not acting under my direction like he should.” Shireen glared at the cat. “It’s gonna be a few nights of chasin’ mice for your dinner if you don’t straighten up, ya hear?”

  The cat crept behind her legs encased in thick support stockings rolled down to meet the below-knee hem of her plaid shirtwaist dress.

  Shireen smoothed her short gray hair away from her face and nudged Tiber aside. She selected a black item from multiple shelves and held it open for me to try on. “A nice wool gabardine will keep the chill out tonight, but not be so heavy to stop you from jumpin’ clear of goblins.”

  I fastened the single button at my throat and lifted the hood over my head. Yards of material swept from my shoulders down to my calves. I turned around and the sound of the fine material swishing against my legs made me feel like I was floating. I peered at Cerise. “It’s nice.”

 
; “Yes, it is.” She pulled out a flared panel and examined it. “It’s good quality and will do well.” She faced the owner. “We’ll take that. Do you have something for her to wear underneath? A dress or skirt and some dress shoes?”

  Shireen strode into an adjoining room behind a clothes rack. “What size, dear?”

  I hesitated. “My shirts are a men’s small. The last dress I wore was an eight, I think. Mom made clothes off homemade patterns without sizes.”

  The owner flitted about the room and loaded her arms with three garments, two black skirts and a dress. “Try these on over there behind the screen and let’s have a look.”

  In the fitting area, I dropped my jeans to the floor and stepped into the sweeping full skirt, the best of the three. The waistband didn’t reach around me. “It doesn’t fit,” I said over the top of the screen.

  Shireen waved a hefty arm. “Come on out, and I’ll see what can be done with it.”

  With one hand, I held the unfastened skirt in place and lifted my shirt with the other, doing neither successfully.

  She pulled at the band so hard I gasped for air. “Not enough material to extend. That one’s not gonna work. If you like the flared skirt, try that dress.”

  I changed again and this time the buttons on the fitted bodice gapped. I shook my head at the women, then ducked down and tried on the straight skirt with my plaid shirt. The zipper pulled up to the top, and I hooked the fastener with inches to spare. A hemline flounce brushed against my calves as the band fell to the middle of my hips. I stepped out for inspection.

  Cerise shook her head. “Way too big. She’s swimming in it. Can you take it in?”

  Shireen bent down and grimaced. “Not in time. Both side seams need to be taken in. I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got. Folks have made a run on my black stock for this event.”

  I changed back into my own clothes and handed her the garments. The instant my arm touched hers, I knew she sincerely felt bad for letting me down.

  “Well, we’ll take the nice cape, anyway.” Cerise folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe you can give us a good price on that since you weren’t able to find anything else, and considering her being a guest from New Wish.”

  I lifted my backpack to find my wallet, but Cerise raised a palm and nodded to me.

  Shireen shifted her weight from side to side. “Sorry I let you down, ‘specially since you’re new here and our guest. And we sure don’t get many witches coming in from other covens.” She stepped behind an oak desk with a vintage black cash register. Fingering a pad of receipts on the middle of the desk, she stroked a gray temple with the capped end of a pen. “I’ll make you an offer. I’m bettin’ you need a job. I could use a helper, and one who knows some magic my competition don’t might just help me get a leg up on them. I’ll fit you out in clothes for thirty percent off. How does that sound, Aggie?”

  Tiber hissed and sputtered at me from around the side of the desk.

  I stifled an excited grin. “How about forty percent?”

  Her gaze met mine, and her lips puckered to one side. “Forty. Hmm. Okay.”

  “What about your cat?” Cerise asked.

  “He’ll learn to like mice for a while. Not to worry.”

  I nodded and extended my hand to Shireen. “Thank you so much.”

  “We’ll all be up late tonight, so I’ll be closed Friday. Can you start Saturday?”

  I looked at Cerise. “Can you give me a ride?”

  She hugged an arm around my shoulder. “You know I will.”

  I made my purchase, and, on the way to her car, she said in an excited, hushed voice, “I’m so proud of you. A job and a great deal on clothes. Shireen uses some of the best fabrics. Pricey, but better than the other gals.”

  ***

  After I helped Cerise and Toby clear the dinner dishes, I rummaged through my small selection of clothes for the darkest pair of jeans I owned, hoping the blue wouldn’t be noticeable in the dark. I put those on with a black shirt and my new black boots. I tilted the antique dresser mirror down on its hinges. I liked how I looked with the cape draped in soft folds from my shoulders.

  “Time to leave,” Toby’s deep voice resonated throughout the house, and I raced downstairs, the boys running past me.

  We all piled into Toby’s car, me in the backseat with the older two boys, Harry and Dustin, while Cerise squeezed little Bud between her and her husband.

  During the drive, Harry played a game of flicking his younger brother on the back of the head, then sat on his hands and looked out the window, ignoring Bud’s outcries.

  Toby’s steely eyes glared back from the rearview mirror. “Harry, if you do that once more, you’ll be staying at Aunt Sally’s while we go on to the haunted house.”

  His threat worked well, and all three boys behaved well enough to arrive at their mother’s homestead. He parked on the drive of the main house, and we tumbled from the car amid the darting boys, now too eager to conceal their whoops. The three adults walked behind, Cerise and Toby taking turns calling to their children to not stray too far out of sight.

  Dusk was changing to night, the gloaming time as I called it, with the sky ribboned in bands of blue-grays and inky purples. As we ascended the small hill that separated the two cabins, I pulled my hood over my head.

  On the other side, a group of black forms mingled outside, perhaps fifty, but the dim light made counting difficult. I glanced down at my jeans, happy the blue color wasn’t too noticeable. A chilling scream that seemed to come from the cabin’s roof made me gawk, wide-eyed.

  A hush spread over the crowd, and hoods turned upward toward the tall gable above the front door. Another scream pierced the air, this one more like the chilling, long wail of a banshee, which I knew signaled approaching death. And another shriek, as two dark shapes emerged from behind the chimney. One began the dreadful cry once again, while the other leered at those on the ground.

  Little Bud tugged on his dad’s arm and whimpered.

  “What is this I see?” A deep male voice growled down at us. “Intruders! You’ve broken the peaceful rest of the carriage house spirits.” He gave a guttural laugh, then shinnied down a trellis at one end of the small porch. From there, he rubbed his hands together while shuffling side to side as he scanned the crowd. His ragged cape hung in shreds around his hunched shape, and his death-white face reflected what little light the twilight offered. “Since you’ve awakened the spirits, why don’t you come in and pay them a friendly visit? I’m sure they’ll be glad to welcome you.” With a menacing laugh, he turned and opened the door. “We have guests of the best kind—willing.”

  A chorus of howls and yelps responded from inside, and the banshee on the roof gave a higher pitched cry.

  A small girl, no more than four years old, begged for her father to carry her.

  The ragged spirit pointed to a sign posted high on the porch support post. “Heed this sign well before you go inside.” It warned pregnant women and people with heart conditions to not enter. With the wave of his arm, he spun on his heel, and the crowd moved toward the entrance.

  “Looks like this year’s show will be good. Every year they try to top the last,” Cerise said and pulled me behind her, while Toby herded their boys.

  Inside, ghouls lurched near, guiding us up the front staircase. Real enchanted spiders dropped onto our faces, bringing plenty of squeals and some momentary lost footing on steps. While clinging to the railings to keep my balance, oozy slime gushed between my fingers. Faced with the safe scares, screams that escaped my lips immediately turned to giggles.

  Live rats ran the length of the upper hall, scampering across our feet. I was glad for my stiff-toed boots, but many of the ladies wearing dress pumps jumped a couple feet. One woman landed against me, and we both fell against the wall where arms extending from paintings held us captive until we pleaded loud enough for release.

  The wall hazards kept people close to the middle, regardless of the rats. At the doorway to
the first bedroom, the floorboards gave way. Five or more in the line ahead dropped down a black hole, their screams reverberating after them. Bats flew up the open shoot and corralled us into the bedroom and the outstretched arms of a red-eyed goblin. His touch sent a sudden disorienting delirium through me, and I fumbled behind Cerise through a connecting hall that led into the next bedroom.

  There, while I was in that vulnerable state, an onslaught of animated objects whipped through the air around us. Brushes whirled in circles like boomerangs, vases crashed against the walls, creating sparkling shards, and long nightgowns separated us from each other. I tried to dodge, but with dulled reactions, the threats made my heart pound with real fear.

  Pushed from behind, I stumbled into a children’s room, where crazed toy soldiers dropped from bookshelves and bedposts onto my shoulders. Tinny-voiced sergeants yelled orders, and little bayonets speared through my clothing. It didn’t hurt but was frightening, especially when joined by additional troops as I passed through the room, like being attacked by swarms of overly aggressive mosquitoes. I swatted with no success. Relief came only when I stumbled through the exit, and the soldiers hopped off to begin a new attack on the next unsuspecting victim.

  My head was still reeling when I entered the last bedroom, which must have served as a sewing room for the original owners. A treadle machine worked by itself on a garment for a short while before an apparition appeared. With a sudden shriek, the female specter yanked the material from the still-sewing machine. It lassoed me together with the woman who’d fallen into me earlier, while the needle bound the ends. I read her real fear through our contact. We wiggled and worked to pull the fabric from our eyes in time to see other ghosts materialize above us. They blew a stiff, icy breeze against our backs that forced us into the back stairwell.