Ruby blushes and explains, “When I started yawning. Jay said that those potions always work, and it was weird that this one didn’t do anything. He said that it probably was a dud, which happens from time to time.”
“Hmmm.” Helga holds her chin and then continues to Jay, “My potions are never duds. Did you notice anything weird? Like the smell?”
Jay bares his teeth, admitting, “All potions smell the same to me. I couldn’t tell the difference. I honestly thought this one was a dud.”
“Sounds like you need more training,” Helga remarks.
Jay tries to flip a bird at Helga, but Agnes grabs his hand before he finishes the movement. Agnes shakes her head no with a wary look of caution. Jay presses his lips together, yanks his hand free, and says nothing.
Ursa stares at Helga, asking, “What’s the point of all these questions?”
Closing her eyes, Helga pushes away from the table and gets up. “Nothing really. I merely wanted to know if Jay knew the Scent of the Hound with the Variant of Fox potion. Seems to me that someone has been slacking on their teaching duties.”
Ursa replies, “I have NOT been slacking!”
Helga retorts, “Seems to me that you might be.”
“We haven’t gotten to that part yet!” Ursa shouts.
Shrugging her shoulders, Helga replies, “Whatever . . . Go get something to cover Ruby up.” Helga gestures towards the people outside walking by who are slowing down to look. “We have people looking in and getting curious.”
Ursa gets up, hurries over to the register, finds her shawl under the counter, rushes back to the table, and gives it to Ruby.
Helga continues, “Well, with that settled.” She dusts her hands and starts to walk towards the kitchen, declaring, “I’ve got some potions to make.”
Agnes jumps up, “WAIT! You can’t do that!”
Helga stops, hitching her hip to one side and places her hand on it, inquiring, “Who says I can’t?”
“I do,” Agnes answers, stepping forward, “You can’t do it because . . . because . . .”
“Forget the reason why?” Helga asks with a smirk.
She sees out of the corner of her eye that Ursa is about to provide an answer, but Helga shakes her head signaling for her to keep quiet.
Agnes puffs her cheeks out and stomps the floor, growling, “Gosh darn it. I know the reason why . . . I just can’t remember right now.”
Helga leans forward to ask, “Why don’t you come and help me then?”
Agnes blinks a few times, her stomach grumbles, and she answers, “Okay. Maybe I will get myself a snack too while we’re back there.”
Helga rolls her eyes, asking, “Are you sure you don’t have some sort of tapeworm?”
Agnes grins and says, “Nope.”
Helga motions with her arm. “Well, come on. We got quite a few potions to make. We’ll do Mr. Jenkin’s first.”
The two sisters hurry on into the kitchen, leaving Ursa at the table with Jay and Ruby.
7
Making Potions
Pots and pans bang around in the kitchen.
“No no no NO! YOU NITWIT!” Helga shouts.
“Helga, I know you’re going through the ‘dramatic teenager’ stage, but come on—you get so frustrated too easily at times,” Agnes comments.
Totally ignoring her oldest sister, Helga demands, “Where in Samhain is the dang eye of newt?”
“It’s in the fridge by the pickles,” Agnes explains.
“By the pickles?” Helga asks, “Why is it in the fridge by OUR FOOD?”
“Because it has to be kept cold, or it’ll spoil,” Agnes replies, “Every witch knows that.”
Helga sticks her tongue out, frowning. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”
“Pffft, yeah, sure you are.” Agnes chuckles as she grabs the jar containing eye of newt out of the fridge.
Helga, leaning against the counter, waves Agnes over, saying, “Let’s see, we’ll need powdered wing of bat too.” She turns a wary gaze over to Agnes, asking, “You didn’t put it right by the flour, did you?”
Agnes shakes her head. “No, silly, of course not. It’s down here with the potatoes in the cupboard.”
“I seriously would not know where any of this stuff is without you, Agnes,” Helga says, “You keep these ingredients in the strangest places.”
Agnes smiles, “At least I can remember some things.”
“True.” Helga purses her lips. “What did you do with the shredded snake skin?”
“Oh, that’s in the back of the haunted pantry.”
“Can you get it for me?” Helga asks.
“No. I’ve already been stuck in there once today.” Crossing her arms, Agnes adds, “I don’t look forward to another stay in there.”
“Oh for crying out loud.” Helga stomps towards the pantry, declaring, “I’ll get—”
When Helga nears the pantry, its door abruptly slams itself shut.
“What the?” Helga questions in disbelief.
“See? I told you,” Agnes confirms with a knowing nod, “haunted.”
“It’s not haunted.” Helga glowers. “I refuse to believe that a simple pantry could be haunted.”
Leaning forward Agnes places her hands on her hips and argues, “Tell that to the spirit that haunts it.”
“It’s NOT haunted.”
At that, the door to the pantry flies open and slams into the wall. A child giggling can be heard. Agnes ducks down, looking warily around the room. Helga stands there with her arms crossed and taps her foot on the floor.
“If you’re done fooling around, Agnes,” Helga continues, “come here and hold the door open.”
Agnes walks over to Helga and stands against the door with a grin on her face, inquiring, “Not haunted, huh?”
“Shush.” Helga turns her attention to the back of the pantry. She reaches up to turn on the pantry light with the cord that hangs down. The light turns on, gets brighter, and then bursts. They both cover their heads to shield themselves from the showering glass.
“Still believe it’s not haunted?” Agnes taunts.
“It was an old bulb,” Helga remarks with a shrug as she moves inside the pantry.
Not wanting to drop the subject, Agnes pursues with another question, “How can you be a witch and refuse to believe the pantry’s haunted?”
Helga answers from the back of the pantry, “Cause cemeteries get haunted, houses get haunted, old buildings get haunted . . . Makes no sense for a simple pantry to get haunt—”
At that moment the door snaps, pushing Agnes into the pantry with Helga. She runs into her sister, and they both fall backwards into a heap. A small child’s laughter echoes through the pantry space as the click of the outer lock on the door being engaged is heard.
“Crap,” both sisters utter as they realize that they are now locked inside the pantry.
Helga shoves Agnes off of her and gets up. She stumbles towards the door in the dark fumbling around for the knob. She grabs hold and jiggles it.
Agnes says, “That won’t do you any good. We’re stuck in here.”
Helga takes a few steps back and charges the door. She rams into it but is met with resistance like a brick wall. Her breath escapes in a painful oomph. Rubbing her shoulder she backs up to try again.
Agnes grabs hold of her foot and urges, “It’s no use. I tried that the last time I was stuck in here. All you get is a bruised shoulder.”
“What are we supposed to do then?”
“We wait. We wait until someone comes and lets us out or until the spirit decides to let us out.”
“We don’t have TIME to wait!” Helga shouts back at Agnes.
“Well, we don’t have any other options,” Agnes replies.
“Yes, we do . . .” Helga starts to bang on the door while shouting for help. Agnes gets up and joins Helga.
Meanwhile, Ursa winces each time she hears her sisters yell for help and then looks back at Jay who is trying to console Rub
y.
Jay looks over to ask, “Isn’t that your sisters shouting?”
Worrying her lips, “Yes,” Ursa replies.
“Aren’t you going to check to see what is going on?”
“I’m unsure.”
Ruby asks, “Unsure of what?”
“I’m not sure if it’s a prank or not,” Ursa explains and looks back towards the kitchen. “And I feel uncomfortable leaving you both out here by yourselves.”
Jay says, “Look, I think we can manage while you check up on Agnes and Helga. We’ll let you know if anything happens out here.”
He winks at Ursa while motioning for her to go look in on her sisters who are yelling from the kitchen. Ursa goes to investigate.
Back in the pantry Agnes slides down the door exhausted from all the banging and screaming. Helga leans against the door.
A small child’s voice giggles, “Ha ha! I caught two mean ol’ witches this time!”
“Why you little—” Helga begins but stops because Agnes pinches her leg. “OUCH! Stop that!” Helga yells and kicks Agnes.
“Hi Becky,” Agnes sighs, “Please let us out.”
The child ghost appears before them. She appears no more than the age of six. She’s wearing a white dress with small flowers printed on it. Her hair is shoulder length in big sausage curls. She chews on her fingers while swaying back and forth with her other hand behind her back.
“Ha ha,” she giggles, “silly old witches being mean to each other . . . makes Becky laugh.”
Agnes tries to bargain with the little girl, “Hey, can you let us out please?”
“No,” the little girl replies.
“Pretty please, with sugar on top?” Agnes asks.
The little girl smiles and then snickers, “No.” She begins to sing, “I~~~ know~~~ a~~~ secret ~~~ I~~~ know~~~ a~~~ secret~~~”
Helga tries to shush the ghost, “Shhhh.”
“Someone~~~ has~~~ been~~~ naughty~~~” Becky continues to sing.
“Liar,” Helga tells Becky.
“Huh?” Agnes replies to both of the girls.
“Helga and TRUE, sitting in a tree, T. R. O. U . . . B. L. E.” Becky sings then laughs.
“We need to get out—” Agnes begins.
“No, you stay here,” the little girl ghost insists.
“Please?” Agnes asks again.
“NO!” The little girl ghost stomps her foot, and a glass jar shatters nearby.
At that point the two sisters hear Ursa start calling out to them, “Agnes? Helga? Where are you?”
Becky looks at Agnes and commands, “Make her go away.”
“Why?” Agnes asks.
“She’ll ruin my fun,” the girl ghost explains, “Make her go away.”
Helga butts in, “Let us out, you little creep!”
“You’re mean,” Becky frowns, “Say sorry or I’ll tell.”
“How ‘bout no. Let us out.” Helga gets close to the ghost, adding, “Now.”
Becky says nothing. The pantry becomes a few degrees colder causing goose bumps to rise on Helga and Agnes’s arms.
“Don’t make me exterminate you,” Helga warns, putting will behind her command to the child ghost, “Let us out now!”
The little girl’s color starts to become more scarlet than white, and her hair waves in the air. She shouts in a demonic voice, “NO!”
The doorknob rattles. “Helga? Agnes? Are you in here?” Ursa asks.
The little girl smirks as the phone in the front of the shop starts to ring.
“Argh, as if we don’t have enough problems.” Helga sits down harshly on the ground.
“Helga, is that you?” Ursa asks.
“Yes,” Helga replies. “Go answer the dang phone.”
“But you’re stuck in the pantry.”
The phone rings again.
Helga shouts, “Argh, go answer the dang phone!”
Agnes adds, “We’ll be fine.”
Ursa’s footsteps can be heard running off to answer the phone.
Agnes and Helga return their attention to the ghost of the little girl. Her color is still scarlet, and her hair still waving in the air.
“Get lost,” Helga tells her and waves her hand at the ghost.
Glaring at Helga, the ghost moves closer to her and floats down to eye level. She moves close to Helga’s face. The air gets colder so that Helga can see her breath form in the air by the red eerie glow of the ghost.
Becky replies in an almost non-human voice, “I’m gonna tell. You’ve been a bad bad witch. Bad witches need to be punished.”
Helga barely whispers, “No. . .”
The soulless eyes pierce through Helga’s heart. Helga cringes away from the ghost when Agnes shouts, “FADE WAY!”
Flames engulf the little girl ghost as she screams, sinking into the floor and out of sight. Helga peeks to see the ghost become no more, and the door to the pantry pops open. The two sisters suddenly roll out of the pantry, for the door was no longer bracing their weight against it.
Getting up and dusting themselves off, Helga looks sideways at Agnes, asking, “Why didn’t you do that to the little girl the first time she showed up?”
“I did not want to waste a ghost that was not a threat.”
“Um, locking us in a pantry I would consider to be on the dangerous side.”
“Not necessarily,” holding one finger up, Agnes corrects Helga, “I would call that mischievous . . . not threatening—similar to a certain teenager I know, not saying any names though . . .”
Ignoring the insinuation, Helga asks, “Will she be back?”
Agnes clucks her tongue a few times. “It’s possible.”
“Remind me to sage that pantry,” Helga remarks with a shudder.
“HA! So you finally admit the pantry IS haunted!” Agnes exclaims.
Helga grimaces, conceding, “Yes, yes. I admit that you were right . . .”
Agnes starts to dance around the kitchen and sings, “I was right . . . Helga was wrong . . . I was right . . . Helga was wrong . . .”
Ursa reenters the kitchen and clears her throat. The other two sisters stop and turn their attention towards her.
“Did either of you know about the health inspection scheduled for today?” Ursa asks.
Agnes, with a smile still on her face, responds, “Nope.”
Helga smacks her own forehead and pulls her hand down her face, declaring, “That jerk isn’t supposed to be here until later this week. I specifically scheduled him for Saturday the fifteenth.”
She storms over to the calendar hanging in the kitchen by the door. She and Ursa take a look and then their jaws drop.
On the calendar marked in red with a circle is when the health inspector is to come and do the inspection. Yes, the fifteenth is marked; however, to Helga and Ursa’s horror ,they both realize that the fifteenth is not a Saturday but a Tuesday.
Today is Tuesday AND it is the fifteenth.
All three sisters glance about the kitchen realizing that nothing is up to snuff.
Helga asks Ursa, “What time did the weasel say that he’ll be here today?”
“At 3 p.m.”
They all look at the clock hanging above the doorway. It currently is five after one.
“If he comes early, then stall.” Helga pushes the sisters out of the kitchen, reminding them, “I still have potions to make. Keep him busy.”
Agnes stops abruptly making Helga run into her. “Don’t you still need me to help find ingredients?”
“I think I can manage,” Helga says, “Now go . . . I need to concentrate.”
Ursa and Agnes head out of the kitchen while Helga returns to making the potions.
The two sisters, Ursa and Agnes, reseat themselves at the table with Jay and Ruby. Jay asks, “How’s the potion making coming along?”
“Haven’t started,” Agnes admits.
“But you two were back there for a while . . . What happened?”
“Haunted pantry,” Agnes re
plies.
His eyebrow quirks up as the corner of his lips threaten to turn a smile. “Haunted pantry?”
Agnes, with a dead serious look on her face, nods. “Yes, haunted pantry.”
“Okay,” Jay says slowly as he returns his attention to Ruby.
The sound of someone’s stomach rumbling breaks the silence.
Ursa looks over at Agnes, “Didn’t you get something to eat?”
Agnes covers her stomach with her arms and leans over slightly. “No, too busy being trapped in the pantry.”
Ursa gets up and heads over towards the coffee bar to grab a few brownies on display in the bell jar near the cash register. Something scampers over Ursa’s feet, and she screams jumping onto the counter, “EEeekk! A RAT!”
The mouse squeaks in surprise and runs along the baseboards with its tail up in the air. It stops every few feet to listen and look around.
A tinkling sound of a small bell is heard. Raven, awoken by Ursa’s screaming, jumps down from on top of the bookcase to the counter and then down to the floor. The mouse squeaks loudly and starts to run as the cat starts to chase it.
Helga sticks her head out from the kitchen and asks, “What’s all the racket?”
Ursa stammers while pointing at the mouse, “A-A-A . . . R-r-r-r-a-a-a-a-t-t-t!”
Helga looks at the mouse being chased by the cat and sneers, “It’s just a mouse. Raven will take care of it. Get off the counter . . . you sissy.”
Ursa sticks her tongue out at Helga and timidly gets off of the counter while still looking around for the mouse. She runs over to the chair by the table and pulls her legs up while she sits down.
Helga lets loose an irritated sigh as she goes back into the kitchen.
“Did you get the brownies?” Agnes asks Ursa.
Ursa pouts, “No.” She hugs her knees even more, adding, “And I don’t want to step on the floor until that mouse is gone.”
Agnes shrugs and gets up. She heads on over to the counter where the brownies are on display. Plucking two from the plate she shoves one into her mouth and watches the cat chase the mouse around the cafe while she chews.
Agnes ponders the recent potion mix-up, wondering who’s responsible. She knows she’s in the clear because she was making a sandwich at the time that they were being labeled. That leaves Jay and Ursa.
Potion of the Hound: Mystical Mishaps Series Book 1 Page 9