The Would-Be Witch

by Ruth Chew

  Also by Ruth Chew

  MAGIC IN THE PARK

  NO SUCH THING AS A WITCH

  THE TROUBLE WITH MAGIC

  WHAT THE WITCH LEFT

  THE WITCH AT THE WINDOW

  THREE WISHING TALES

  (AN EBOOK OMNIBUS):

  THE MAGIC COIN

  THE MAGIC CAVE

  THE WISHING TREE

  THREE WITCH TALES

  (AN EBOOK OMNIBUS):

  THE WITCH’S BUTTONS

  WITCH’S CAT

  THE WITCH’S GARDEN

  This is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1976 by Ruth Chew

  Jacket art copyright © 2014 by David Hohn

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.

  Originally published in the United States by Scholastic, Inc., New York, in 1976.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Random House LLC.

  Visit us on the Web!

  randomhousekids.com

  SteppingStonesBooks.com

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Chew, Ruth, author, illustrator.

  The would-be witch / by Ruth Chew; with illustrations by the author. — First Random House edition.

  p. cm.

  “A Stepping Stone book.”

  Summary: When a small white cat follows them home from Zelda’s antique store, Robin and Andy find themselves in the middle of an adventure involving magic polish that brings anything it touches to life, and a coven of would-be witches. ISBN 978-0-449-81567-0 (trade) — ISBN 978-0-449-81570-0 (tr. pbk.) —

  ISBN 978-0-449-81569-4 (ebook)

  1. Witches—Juvenile fiction. 2. Magic—Juvenile fiction. 3. Brothers and sisters—Juvenile fiction. [1. Witches—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction.

  3. Brothers and sisters—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.C429Wo 2014 813.54—dc23 2013035053

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1

  To Buck

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Excerpt from The Witch at the Window

  “Rob, look at the poor little cat! She’s shut up all by herself.” Andy Gates pressed his nose against the window of the shop.

  His sister Robin watched the fluffy little white cat pick her way among a set of old dishes that had purple violets painted on them. The cat sidestepped a little china lady and squeezed between a huge plaster frog and a tall thing that looked like a fountain.

  The little cat stood on her hind legs and tried to crawl up the plate glass. She opened her pink mouth to meow. But Robin and Andy couldn’t hear her through the window.

  Robin moved her finger back and forth across the glass. The cat tried to catch Robin’s finger.

  “You’re lonely, and you want to play,” Robin said.

  “I don’t remember this store. Wasn’t this where the delicatessen used to be?” Andy looked up at the sign across the top of the plate glass window:

  ZELDA’S AT HOME

  In the window there was a smaller sign:

  Come in and Browse

  Andy tried the door. It was locked. “How can we go in and browse? Zelda isn’t home.”

  A very small sign in the corner of the window said:

  We buy and sell

  Robin peeked through the glass door. The shop was crowded with cabinets filled with silver trays, Japanese dolls, marble eggs, and all sorts of other things. A fancy old clock with a swinging pendulum stood against the wall.

  Robin remembered that their mother had asked her to buy a loaf of rye bread. The bakery was in the next block. “Come on, Andy.” Robin took a last look at the little white cat. The cat looked back at her with round blue eyes. Suddenly the cat caught sight of something. She gave a jump and knocked over a glass vase.

  A shadow fell across the window.

  Robin and Andy turned around. They saw a little old woman dressed all in black. She was fishing a large key out of her handbag. The old woman fitted the key into the lock and opened the door of the little shop.

  “She must be Zelda,” Andy said.

  The woman turned her head and looked at the two children. She had the greenest eyes that either of them had ever seen.

  Through the open door of the shop they could hear the old clock striking five. Robin grabbed Andy’s hand. She pulled him after her down Church Avenue toward the bakery.

  “What’s the hurry for, Rob? I want to look at the things in Zelda’s.” Andy’s legs were shorter than Robin’s. He had to run to keep up with her.

  “It’s Friday,” Robin reminded him. “The bakery closes early.”

  When they reached the bakery, the man behind the counter was already putting the cakes away. There were only three loaves of bread left on the shelf. Robin bought the last loaf of rye bread.

  On their way out of the store Andy nearly tripped over a small white cat. He bent down to pet it. “Hey, Rob, doesn’t this look like the cat in Zelda’s?”

  Robin looked at the cat. “Yes,” she said. “Maybe it ran out when Zelda opened her door.”

  “Let’s take it back to her.” Andy bent down to pick up the cat. It dodged him and ran under a parked car.

  “It’s getting dark, and Mother’s waiting for us.” Robin took hold of her brother’s hand and started for home. When they came to the old house where they lived, Robin and Andy walked up the stone steps to the front door. Andy rang the doorbell.

  Mrs. Gates opened the door. Something streaked between Robin’s legs and ran into the house.

  It was the white cat.

  The cat ran up the stairs in the front hall. Andy tore after her.

  “What’s that?” Mrs. Gates looked up the stairway.

  Robin handed her mother the paper bag with the loaf of bread in it. “It’s Zelda’s cat.”

  “Who is Zelda?” Mrs. Gates asked. She opened the paper bag and sniffed the rye bread.

  “She’s the lady who has the funny little store where the delicatessen used to be,” Robin said. She stuck her nose into the paper bag.

  Andy came downstairs. He was carrying the cat. “Let’s keep her, Mom. She followed Rob and me home. She doesn’t want to stay with Zelda.”

  Mrs. Gates looked at the fluffy little cat. “Don’t be silly, Andy. You’ll have to take her back. But it’s suppertime now. You and Robin can take the cat home after supper. Go and wash your hands. Your dad is hungry.”

/>   “I’ll put the cat in my room for now.” Andy went back upstairs with the cat.

  Robin followed her mother into the kitchen. Mr. Gates was standing in front of the stove. He lifted the lid on a saucepan and peeked inside. Robin ran to give her father a hug. “What’s for supper, Daddy?”

  “Franks and beans,” Mr. Gates told her.

  “My favorite,” Robin said. She went to get the silverware to set the table.

  After supper Andy cleared the table and then went to his room. Robin put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. When she had finished she went upstairs. The door of Andy’s room was closed. Robin tapped on the door.

  The door opened a crack. Andy looked out. When he saw Robin, he said, “I found this cat chasing my marbles all over the room. She gets into everything.”

  Robin walked into Andy’s bedroom. It looked as if a bomb had hit it. There were schoolbooks scattered across the floor. The spread had been yanked off the bed, and the pillow had a small hole in one end. The feathers were leaking out. Andy was on his hands and knees, picking up the marbles.

  The white cat was chasing a feather across the top of Andy’s desk. When she saw Robin, the cat sat down and looked at her with round blue eyes. The feather was sticking out of one side of the cat’s mouth.

  Robin laughed. “You’re a mischief, little cat,” she said, “but I wish we could keep you for our own. Would you like that?”

  The cat stood up and jumped off the desk. She ran over to Robin and rubbed against her leg. Robin picked up the fluffy little cat and held her against her cheek. “You must be hungry, and I don’t have anything to feed you. I’ll have to take you back to Zelda right away.”

  Mrs. Gates was standing in the doorway. “It’s raining,” she said. “And I really don’t want you children out after dark. Tomorrow’s Saturday. You can take the cat back to Zelda right after breakfast. Bring her down to the kitchen now. I’ll give her a bowl of milk.”

  The little cat purred loudly.

  Robin wanted the cat to sleep in her room. Andy insisted she ought to spend the night in his. Mrs. Gates settled the argument. She took an old baby blanket out of the linen closet and put it in a cardboard box under the kitchen table. The cat turned round and round in the box until she made just the right kind of dent in the blanket. Then she curled up and went to sleep. Robin thought the cat looked like a round powder puff in the box.

  Next morning, when Robin came down to breakfast, she found the cat licking the last scrap from a tuna fish can.

  “I’m going to make a tuna casserole for supper,” Mrs. Gates explained. “The cat is cleaning the can.”

  “Oh, Mother, do we have to take her back to Zelda?” Robin opened a box of cornflakes.

  Her mother handed her a container of milk. “I wish we could keep her, Robin. And I’d ask Zelda if she would sell her cat, but right now we can’t afford anything extra.”

  Andy came into the kitchen. “Zelda buys and sells stuff, Mom. She’s got all sorts of junk in that store. Maybe she’d trade the cat for something.”

  Mrs. Gates looked at Andy. “Go comb your hair. And are you sure you brushed your teeth?”

  Andy went back upstairs. Mrs. Gates went to the breakfront in the dining room. She looked through the glass door at the crowded shelves. “Most of these things I never use. The silver things are tarnished.” She opened the breakfront and took out a pair of silver salt and pepper shakers. They were shaped like birds. Mrs. Gates took them into the kitchen and put them on the table.

  “I bought a jar of silver polish just last week from an old man who came to the door. I didn’t really want the polish, but I was sorry for the old man.” Mrs. Gates took a small jar out of her sink cabinet. She put it on the table beside the silver birds. “Now we’ll see how well this stuff works.”

  The telephone on the kitchen wall rang. Mrs. Gates answered it. “Hello,” she said. “Yes, yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She hung up the phone. “That was my boss. He wants me to work today. I have to rush. Make the beds for me, please, Robin. And get Andy to help you clean up the breakfast dishes.” Mrs. Gates ran upstairs to change her dress.

  Robin picked up the salt shaker. Andy came back into the kitchen. “What have you got there?” He took the pepper shaker off the table.

  Andy looked at the silver bird in his hand. “Maybe we could trade these to Zelda for her cat.”

  Robin looked at the salt and pepper shakers. “They’re almost black.” She unscrewed the cap on the jar of polish and dipped her finger into the pink creamy stuff inside. She rubbed a little on the head of the silver bird.

  Where Robin put the polish a tiny spot of silver gleamed through the black tarnish. Robin didn’t rub any more on the salt shaker, but the spot began to get bigger. It grew and grew until the salt shaker shone all over.

  Suddenly the cold metal felt different in Robin’s hand. It was warm and feathery. Then it moved!

  Robin was holding a live bird in her hand. Its feathers shone like silver. The bird cocked its head and looked at Robin with bright dark eyes.

  “Meow!” The cat jumped onto the kitchen table.

  The little bird fluttered out of Robin’s hand and flew onto the molding over the door. Andy looked up at it. Then he stuck his thumb into the jar and smeared polish on the head of the other silver bird. An instant later Andy was trying to stop the pepper shaker from flying away. “Grab the cat, Rob!”

  The cat dodged Robin and knocked the toaster off the table. Robin caught the toaster before it hit the floor. “Careful!” she said to the cat. The cat looked ashamed and sat down in the middle of the table.

  Mr. Gates walked into the room. “What’s all the noise about? Get off the table, Cat. You don’t belong there.”

  The cat jumped off the table. She upset the container of milk. Robin ran to get a rag to mop up the mess.

  Andy kept the little bird hidden in his hands. He walked into the dining room and put the bird on a shelf of the breakfront. He closed the breakfront door and went back into the kitchen.

  Mr. Gates poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the kitchen stove. “Weren’t you supposed to take that cat back to the antiques store?”

  “We will, Daddy,” Robin said, “just as soon as we’ve made the beds and cleaned up the kitchen.” She was hoping her father wouldn’t notice the bird perched over the door.

  Mr. Gates dropped a slice of bread into the toaster. He took a jar of marmalade out of the kitchen cabinet. The little bird sat very still.

  Robin started putting dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “Andy,” Robin said, “take the cat upstairs. And start making the beds. I’ll come up in a minute to help you.”

  Andy grabbed the cat and went out of the room.

  Mr. Gates saw the jar of pink polish on the table. He picked it up and read the label aloud. “New Magic Polish. Does wonders with silver, china, glass, wood, rubber, and plastic.”

  While Mr. Gates was busy reading, the little bird fluttered down and perched on Robin’s shoulder. Robin walked into the dining room and opened the door of the breakfront. The bird hopped in and sat down on the shelf beside the other one. They looked just like a pair of silver salt and pepper shakers.

  Robin wasn’t sure if they needed air. Just in case they did, she left the door of the breakfront open a crack. Then she went back into the kitchen to finish loading the dishwasher.

  Robin and Andy were on their way to Zelda’s. Andy carried the cat. “I wonder if Zelda would trade the cat for a pair of live silver birds.”

  “I want to keep them,” Robin said. “There must be something else we could trade for the cat.”

  They turned the corner onto Church Avenue. It was a dark wintry day. The lights were on in Zelda’s little store. A bell jangled when Robin opened the door. The two children walked into the store.

  Zelda was busy with a customer. A fat lady in a pink hat was holding a blue and white teapot. “This is exactly what I want,” she said. The lady put the teapo
t on the counter and opened her handbag.

  Zelda looked up and saw the children with the cat. “You’ve brought back my Pearl! I thought she was gone for good.” She reached for the cat.

  Pearl jumped out of Andy’s arms. She landed on the counter and kicked the china teapot onto the floor. It smashed into a dozen pieces. The lady gave a little scream.

  Zelda frowned. “It’s all right,” she said to the lady. “I can get another one just like it. Can you come back in about an hour?”

  “That will be too late,” the lady said. “I’m giving a tea party this afternoon. I’m afraid I’ll have to go somewhere else for a teapot.” She turned and walked out of the store.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs.—” Andy said.

  “Oh, it’s not your fault. Pearl is the clumsiest cat in the world. And you’d better call me Zelda. Everyone else does.” The little old woman bent over to pick up the pieces of the broken teapot. Robin got down on her hands and knees to help her. Zelda took a brass tray out of one of the cabinets in the store. Robin put all the pieces of the teapot on the tray. The old woman put the tray on a shelf in the back of the store. She walked around, humming to herself as she straightened the things on the countertop.

  Zelda picked up an old oil lamp with a glass chimney and polished it with a piece of Kleenex. Then she put the lamp away in a cabinet. “I can’t have Pearl knocking that over,” she told Robin. She stroked a little wooden turtle under the chin. “You’d better go in the window today. You might like to see what’s going on in the street.”

  Andy was looking at a big glass alligator. “Isn’t this great, Rob? I wish I had it for my room.”

  Robin wasn’t sure she liked the alligator. She preferred the little china skunk or the hound dog with the tail that moved up and down when she touched it. Everywhere Robin turned in the shop she saw interesting things.

  The little white cat was crouching beside the cash register. Her eyes were shut, but the end of her fluffy tail twitched. She didn’t look happy.

  “Zelda,” Robin said. “I like Pearl a lot. Would you trade her for something?”