by Ruth Chew
Robin tapped on the door of the shop. Zelda was wearing glasses to read. She looked over the top of the glasses to see who was knocking. Then she put down the book and came to open the door.
“Oh, it’s you, Robin. And you’ve brought back my Pearl again! She slips out of the store whenever I open the door. And she seems to like you better than me.” The old woman looked at the fluffy little cat. She blinked her eyes as if to keep from crying. Her long pointed chin quivered.
Suddenly Robin felt sorry for the witch. She touched the little old woman’s wrinkled hand. “What’s the matter, Zelda?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s just that I’m not clever enough.” Zelda tried to smile. “Well, come in for a few minutes, dear.” She opened the door wide.
Robin stepped into the store. “You were reading,” Robin said. “I love to read.” She went over to the counter where Zelda had put the book and picked it up. The ABCs of Magic.
“Just something I found in the library,” Zelda said.
“But why would you want a book like this?” Robin asked. “You are a witch.”
“Not really,” Zelda said in a sad little voice.
“You look like a witch to me,” Robin insisted.
“Do I, dear?” Zelda’s green eyes began to twinkle behind her glasses. “I’m only a would-be witch. If I could join the coven, I’d be a real one.”
“What’s a coven?” Robin asked.
“It’s a kind of witches’ club,” Zelda explained. “I failed the entrance exam for the third time yesterday. I don’t think they’ll let me take it again.”
“Oh, Zelda,” Robin said, “you don’t need to join that nasty gang of cats. You’re a great witch already.”
“What do you mean?” Zelda asked.
“You mended the teapot so it was just like new,” Robin reminded her.
“It was new,” Zelda said. “I bought it from a wholesaler on Thirteenth Avenue yesterday afternoon. You and Andy were the ones who did the magic. You sold it for twice what I paid.” She sat down in a chair and hid her face in her hands.
Robin touched Zelda’s bony shoulder. It was shaking. “But how about your broom?”
Zelda looked up. Her lined old face was streaked with tears. “Broom?” she said. “What broom?”
Robin pointed behind the cabinet. “This one.”
Zelda stood up and walked over to see where Robin was pointing. “Oh, that thing. It isn’t even any good to sweep with. I ought to get a new one.”
Robin looked at the broom. It was just the magic polish that had enchanted it after all.
“Zelda,” she said, “can you reach the broom?”
Zelda’s arms were much longer than Robin’s. She pulled the broom out from behind the cabinet.
“Now,” Robin said, “put it between your legs.”
Zelda grinned. “Wait a minute.” She took her long black cape down from the peg and swirled it around herself. Then she got down her hatbox from a shelf. She lifted out the wide-brimmed, pointed hat and put it on. Zelda straddled the broom. She turned to look at herself in the round mirror beside the clock. “Pretty good for a would-be witch,” she said.
“Now, hold tight,” Robin told the old woman, “and tell the broom to fly.”
Zelda took a good grip on the broom and got ready to jump into the air. “Please, Magic Broom,” she said, “take me for a ride.”
The skinny little woman didn’t weigh much. The broom rose up into the air with no trouble at all. It looped twice around the shop. Zelda was so surprised that her hat fell off her head and she kicked over the vase of fake flowers.
“You need practice,” Robin yelled. “Watch your head and keep your ankles together!”
Zelda’s gray hair came loose from the bun at the back of her head. It streamed out behind her. “Whee!” she said.
“Those crazy birds chased me out of my own bedroom,” Robin told Andy. “I opened the closet and they both flew at my face. I had to run out of the room and shut the door. If Mother goes in there it’ll be awful.”
“Put a sign on your door, DANGER, BIRDS!” Andy suggested.
Robin and Andy were in Andy’s room at the end of the hall. They left the door open so they could see if anybody went to Robin’s room.
“The dustpan and the magic feathers are in there,” Robin said. “We’ll need them tonight.”
“Why?” Andy asked. Robin had told him about her visit to Zelda. “Are we going flying beside your silly would-be witch? She didn’t know her old broom was magic. You could have asked her to give it to us. I know I’d be good at broom riding.”
“We’ve got the dustpan, Andy. Don’t be greedy.” Robin saw her father walk over to her bedroom door. “I’m in Andy’s room,” she called to him.
Mr. Gates came down the hall. “I want to take your mother to a movie,” he said. “I told her you’re old enough to fix your own supper. There’s some tuna fish casserole left in the refrigerator. And you can open a can of peas.”
“What about dessert?” Andy asked.
“I hadn’t thought about dessert,” his father said.
“I know how to make tapioca pudding, Daddy,” Robin told him. “Don’t worry about anything. You and Mother have a good time.”
“When will you be home?” Andy wanted to know.
“Not till very late,” Mr. Gates said. He walked back down the hall.
Robin went downstairs to the kitchen. Her mother was looking in the refrigerator. “I told Dad I’d make tapioca pudding,” Robin said. “Why don’t you go and get dressed to go out?”
Mrs. Gates gave Robin a hug and ran up to her room to change.
“Everybody always thinks you’re such an angel,” Andy said. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you were big buddies with a witch.”
Robin opened the cabinet and took down a box of tapioca. “Andy,” she said, “while you’re over by the refrigerator, could you get out an egg?”
Robin stacked the tapioca bowls in the dishwasher. “I told Zelda where the witches meet. She never even knew they turned into cats. She’s been trying to get a black cat for years, but none of them wanted to have anything to do with her.”
Andy laughed. “Of course not. They’re real witches. Zelda’s just a make-believe. Where did she take her witchcraft tests?”
“In one of the empty classrooms on the third floor of our school,” Robin said. “Now she’s going to that basement to talk to the witches. I don’t trust those awful cats, Andy. I’m afraid they’ll do something to her.”
“You forget,” Andy said, “they need a thirteenth witch.”
“I want to go and watch what happens at the witches’ meeting,” Robin said. “But first we have to get Dusty and the magic feathers out of my room. Salt and Pepper won’t let anybody in there.”
“No problem,” Andy said. “Remember that television show about beekeeping? Birds aren’t as bad as bees.”
Robin shook her head. “Oh, no, you don’t, Andy Gates! The beekeepers smoked the bees out of their hive. You know Mother and Daddy don’t want us playing with fire.”
“There you go with the angel act again,” Andy said. “Who said anything about smoke? I was thinking of the nets the bee people had over their heads.”
Robin turned off the kitchen light. She and Andy went upstairs. Andy pulled the bedspread off his bed. He wrapped it around himself. Even his head was covered. He left only a little place to see out.
“This ought to protect me from those birds,” Andy said. He opened the door of Robin’s room.
Salt and Pepper flew out and winged their way down the hall.
“Put the bedspread away, Andy,” Robin said. “And go get your jacket.” She went into her room.
Robin unlocked her desk drawer and took out the silver feathers. She found the dustpan where she had left it in the corner of the room.
“What about the birds? They’ll be flying all over the house,” Andy said.
“We can’t waste time trying
to catch them now. They’re probably just looking for more food.” Robin took the pan off the closet shelf and ran down to the laundry room to fill it with seed.
Then she put on her jacket and zipped it up. “Come on, Andy.”
“What’s the hurry?” Andy asked.
“I want to get to that old basement before the witches so we can hide and watch them,” Robin said.
“Does Zelda know we’re going to be there?” Andy wanted to know.
“No. She thinks only her broom is magic.” Robin opened her bedroom window. She stepped onto the dustpan and handed Andy one of the silver feathers. Then she tucked the other feather behind her ear. At once she was small. Robin sat down and held tight to one wall of the dustpan.
Andy still held his feather in his hand. “Why do we have to go back into that dark hole, Rob? We were lucky to get out of it last night.”
“You don’t have to come if you’re afraid,” Robin said.
Andy stuck the silver feather behind his ear.
The fire under the giant pot of witches’ brew was almost out. By the dim red glow Andy and Robin saw one black cat curled up on the concrete floor near the pot. She seemed to be asleep.
The blue dustpan flew back to its hiding place by the metal pole. Robin and Andy lay on their stomachs to look down over the ramp. They both held tight to the edge.
One by one, without a sound, the black cats came down the stairs into the basement. Robin silently counted. At last she whispered to Andy, “That makes twelve.”
A cat stood up and stretched. She looked like the cat who had jumped into the brew last night. “Edna!” the cat hissed. “You’re asleep on the job again. I’ve a good mind to expel you from the coven.”
The cat who was asleep woke up. “Did I hear right? Expel me? I wish you would, Hester. I’m tired of this witch business.”
Hester cleared her throat. She pretended not to hear. “Witches,” she ordered, “go and get fuel for the fire.”
The cats went back up the stairs. Edna started to curl up again near the pot. Hester gave her a slap. “You too,” she said. “And be careful how you talk to me!”
Edna’s ears flattened. She slunk off after the other cats. Hester lay down to wait for their return.
Robin and Andy were watching. Suddenly Hester jumped to her feet. She arched her back. All her fur stood on end. And her tail became as fat as a squirrel’s.
Hester’s yellow eyes gleamed. They were reflecting the light from a little lamp with a glass chimney that seemed to be floating down the stairs into the dark basement.
The cat moved back into the shadows.
As the lamp came closer, Robin and Andy saw that someone was holding it, someone in a pointed hat who was riding a broom. “It’s that crazy Zelda,” Andy whispered. “Why would she bring an oil lamp?”
Zelda flew round and round the basement, shining her lamp into all the dark corners. At last she caught sight of the end of Hester’s tail. It was sticking out from behind an old pail. “Here, kitty, kitty,” Zelda called.
At the sound of Zelda’s crackled old voice the black cat’s ears pricked up. She crawled out into the open and looked up at the old woman.
“Zelda!” the cat said.
Zelda craned her neck to look down at the cat. “You know me, pussy cat?”
“Of course. I gave you the witchcraft exam three times.” Hester arched her back and stretched her claws. Her fur began to flatten, and her tail went back to its usual size.
Zelda was staring down at the cat. “You must be Hester Blackstone,” she said. “Please, won’t you give me another chance. I do so want to be a witch.”
“You’ve never passed the test,” the cat told her, “but that broomstick trick ought to qualify you. When the other witches come back with fuel for the fire I’ll talk to them about it.”
“Oh, thank you. Thank you.” Zelda was so excited that she almost fell off the broom.
The black cat watched her with narrowed eyes. “I have to talk to the others in private,” she said. “Go up to the top floor of this house and wait until I send for you.”
The old woman gave the broom handle a little pat. “Up we go, Buster,” she said. The tattered broom flicked its straws and flew up the stairway.
The black cat watched until Zelda had disappeared from sight up the stairway. She began to pace back and forth. In a little while the other cats returned. One cat carried the broken rung from a chair in her mouth. Another balanced a small wooden crate on her back. Four of the cats struggled under the weight of a little sled. Some cats brought cardboard boxes. Others had newspapers. They all stuffed their loads under the big iron pot. The flames grew higher, and the dark brew started to steam.
The dustpan hovered up near the wooden crossbeam. Robin and Andy lay on their stomachs and watched the cats. They hardly dared to breathe.
“What’s the use of heating up the brew when there are only twelve of us?” the scraggly old cat asked. “We’re just wasting fuel and knocking ourselves out for nothing.”
Hester jumped up onto the rim of the pot. “Witches, listen!” she said. “I have found a thirteenth.”
The cats all turned to her.
“Most of you know Zelda,” Hester said.
“Oh, no!” a chorus of cats wailed.
The scraggly old cat strutted over to the pot. “Hester,” she said, “you must be out of your mind. Zelda just isn’t the type. You know she’s taken the standard true and false test several times. And she always makes a mess of it. That woman even keeps a white cat who breaks things. And then she says the cat can’t help being clumsy! Find somebody else for the thirteenth witch. Zelda would ruin the coven.”
Hester had been standing so long on the rim of the pot that her feet were getting hot. She jumped into the crowd of cats. “Listen to me,” she hissed in a hoarse whisper. “Zelda has found a real flying broom. And not one of us has ever been able to get hold of one. You know that all we have for magic is this watered-down brew. And it doesn’t work when it’s cold. I want that broom!”
The cats gathered close around her. “How are you going to get it, Hester?” a skinny little cat asked.
Hester stroked her whiskers. She winked. Then in a low voice she said, “Simple. We’ll all go into the magic brew and turn back into ourselves. Then I’ll tell Zelda she has to jump into the brew to become a real witch. You know what will happen.”
“Zelda will turn into a cat,” Edna said. “But if she jumps back into the brew she’ll become herself again.”
“She’ll never get the chance,” Hester said. “I’ll take the broom and the cat.”
This struck all the cats as being very funny. They laughed until they rolled on the floor.
The brew was boiling now. “Where’s Zelda?” the old cat asked. “We don’t want the brew to boil away. You know you lost the recipe for it, Hester. We won’t be able to make more.”
Hester glared at her. She cleared her throat. “Zelda is on the top floor of this house waiting to be called,” she said. “Edna, you go and get her. And be quick about it.” She gave the cat a swat with her paw.
Edna bounded up the stairs.
Robin and Andy watched Zelda come flying down into the basement. The old woman was very excited. She curled her ankles around the broomstick and held onto it with one hand. In her other hand she was still carrying the oil lamp. Zelda’s green eyes were shining. She flew in a little circle over the heads of the cats.
“Zelda,” Hester said, “watch what we do. Then you’ll know how to become a witch.” The cat leaped up onto the rim of the pot and dived into the bubbling depths of the brew. A minute later a woman splashed up out of the pot. She had yellow hair and long red fingernails.
“She looked better as a cat,” Andy whispered to Robin.
The scraggly old cat was next. She jumped up on the rim of the pot and tested the brew with one paw before she jumped in.
“Hurry up,” Edna said.
The old cat jumped into t
he brew. She held both paws over her nose and went under. The next minute up bobbed a scraggly old woman. Hester had to help her climb out of the pot. “Pew! That stuff tastes terrible, Hester. Somebody’s feet must have been dirty last time we used it.”
Hester frowned at her. “Next!” she said. One by one the cats dived into the pot of brew. And each one turned into a woman.
Now it was Zelda’s turn. She was flying round and round right over the steaming pot. “Are you sure I won’t be scalded?”
“Of course, Zelda,” Hester said. “Didn’t you see the rest of us jump into the brew? Now bring your broom over here and put down that lamp. I’ll help you climb into the pot.”
“Don’t do it, Zelda,” Robin screamed. Her voice sounded very small.
Zelda turned her head. She thought she’d heard someone call her name, but she wasn’t sure.
The witches too had heard something. They looked into all the dark corners of the basement.
“Come on, Zelda,” Hester said. “The brew is just hot enough. If you don’t jump in now, it may not work. Don’t you want to be a real witch?”
Zelda looked down into the pot. “Oh, all right.”
“Stop her, Dusty,” Robin said.
The dustpan dived down from its hiding place. It flew right at the little old woman on the broomstick.
“Come away, Zelda,” Robin screamed.
Hester climbed onto the rim of the pot. She reached up and grabbed hold of the dustpan.
The dustpan tried to fly out of the witch’s grasp, but Hester was too strong for it. She stared down at Robin and Andy.
Robin jumped off the dustpan and pulled the silver feather out from behind her ear. She almost fell into the pot of brew, but she landed on the floor beside it. Hester climbed down from the rim of the pot. Robin was back to her own size now. She tried to take the dustpan away from the witch.
Andy jumped onto Hester’s shoulder and slipped the feather out from behind his ear. At once he became so heavy that the witch was knocked to the ground.