by Ruth Chew
Andy grabbed the witch’s hands. He tried to pull them off the dustpan. Hester held onto it. The boy and the witch rolled over and over on the concrete floor of the basement.
“Somebody get the broom!” Hester yelled.
The witches closed in around the iron pot and reached up to drag Zelda off the broom. The little old woman dropped her lamp. She held onto the broom with both hands and zoomed up toward the ceiling.
The oil from the lamp splashed down into the pot. It spread like a lake across the surface of the brew. A moment later the whole pot was a raging fire.
Robin was trying to help Andy take the dustpan away from the witch. “Help me,” Hester screamed.
Two witches ran to her aid.
The children never saw the white cat come bounding down the stairs. Pearl leaped on Hester and bit her hand. She let go of the dustpan. Andy grabbed it. He jumped to his feet and ran toward the stairs.
Edna took hold of Robin’s arm. The white cat sank her sharp teeth into Edna’s ankle. Edna let out a howl. Robin pulled free and ran after Andy.
The blazing brew in the pot boiled over the rim. It ran in flaming rivers across the basement floor.
Zelda swooped down and grabbed the white cat. “Come on, Pearl. We’d better find Robin and Andy.”
The would-be witch looked all over the basement. She couldn’t see the children anywhere. Zelda flew up the stairs. “Robin! Andy!” she called.
When she reached the first floor something circled around her head. It was the dustpan.
“We’re going home, Zelda,” Robin yelled at the top of her voice.
The little old woman waved her hand. “A very good idea.” She steered her broom up to the floor above and out one of the broken windows.
Robin and Andy heard the pack of witches running up the stairs. The children moved back against the wall at the back of the dustpan. They held tight to the sides. The dustpan soared up to the third floor and out into the cold night air.
Mr. and Mrs. Gates were still out when Robin and Andy flew into Robin’s bedroom. The children took the feathers out from behind their ears. Robin locked them in her desk drawer. She closed her bedroom window and put the dustpan away in the broom closet downstairs.
Andy remembered Salt and Pepper. He went to look for them. Although he searched all over the house, Andy couldn’t find the birds.
“We have school tomorrow,” Robin reminded Andy. “And it’s late. If Mother and Dad find us up when they come home, we’ll be punished.”
Just then they heard the sound of a key in the front door. Robin and Andy rushed upstairs to bed. Andy finished undressing under the covers.
In the morning when Mrs. Gates came to wake Robin, she said, “What a beautiful day! Spring must be on the way at last.” She walked to the window. “Robin, look at those two birds! Aren’t they lovely?”
Robin jumped out of bed and ran to the window. Salt and Pepper were sitting in the magnolia tree singing for joy.
Mrs. Gates went to wake Andy. Robin opened her window so the birds could return to their nest. But they didn’t seem to want to come back into the house. When Robin went down to breakfast she left her window open and closed her bedroom door.
Mr. Gates was sitting at the kitchen table reading the morning newspaper. “There was a fire in the neighborhood last night,” he said. “That old wreck of a house on East Fourth Street burned down. Twelve women were trapped on the top floor.”
“How awful!” Mrs. Gates said. She put a bowl of oatmeal in front of Andy.
“The firemen rescued all the women.” Mr. Gates folded up the paper. “But now they’re in trouble. No one knows who they are. They had no right to be in that house. The owner is going to press charges against them. They may even end up in jail.”
Mrs. Gates looked at the clock. “My boss gave me the day off,” she said, “but it’s time for you to leave for work, John. And the children will have to run to get to school on time.” Mrs. Gates poured herself a second cup of coffee. She picked up the newspaper and sat down to read.
At three o’clock Robin and Andy walked home from school together. Their mother opened the front door for them. They could tell that she had been housecleaning. She was wearing an apron, and her sleeves were rolled up.
“What a mess your room was, Robin!” she said. “I found the salt and pepper shakers I’ve been looking for in your Easter basket. What were they doing there?”
“Where are they now?” Robin asked.
“In the breakfront where they belong,” her mother told her.
The children went into the house. Andy ran to the breakfront. He stared at the two little silver birds on the shelf. “Rob, come here.”
Mrs. Gates had gone into the kitchen. Robin put her school books on the dining room table and walked over to the breakfront.
“Those aren’t Salt and Pepper!” Andy whispered.
Robin looked hard at the salt and pepper shakers. “They must have hatched out of the silver eggs,” she said. “Salt and Pepper flew out of the window.”
Mrs. Gates looked out of the kitchen. “You did a good job of shining the salt and pepper shakers,” she said. “They look brand new. But I don’t like having silver polish that I have to lock away from you children. This morning I walked past Zelda’s at Home. No wonder you children took the polish there. Everything in her window needed cleaning. So I gave Zelda the jar of polish.” Mrs. Gates smiled. “And you’ll never guess what happened! Come into the kitchen, children. I have a surprise for you.”
Robin and Andy turned away from the breakfront and walked into the kitchen. There, on the floor, just finishing a bowl of cat chow, was Pearl.
Mrs. Gates stooped to stroke the fluffy little white cat behind the ears. “Zelda said we could have her. But she warned me that Pearl breaks things.”
“Meow.” Pearl arched her back and purred.
“What’s the matter, Robin?” her mother asked. “Aren’t you happy to get the cat?”
“Of course, Mother,” Robin said. “I’ll go and thank Zelda.” She ran to the front door.
Andy picked up the cat and followed his sister. “Why the hurry, Rob?”
Robin yanked open the door. “I have to stop Zelda before she polishes that glass alligator!”
LET THE MAGIC CONTINUE.…
Here’s a peek at another bewitching tale by Ruth Chew.
Excerpt copyright © 1984 by Ruth Chew.
Published by Random House Children’s Books,
a division of Random House LLC,
a Penguin Random House Company, New York.
“Hey, Marge, look at this!” Nick bent down to pick up something that had fallen out of a fat old beech tree.
Marjorie saw that her brother was holding a long-handled wooden spoon. She stared up into the branches overhead. “Hello!” she called. “Is anybody up there?”
There was no answer.
Nick handed Marjorie the spoon. “Maybe somebody left it in the tree.”
Marjorie felt the smooth wood. “The wind must have blown it down.”
“It’s such a big spoon,” Nick said. “We could dig with it at the beach.”
“Mother doesn’t like us to take things that don’t belong to us,” Marjorie reminded him.
“But if we leave the spoon here in the park,” Nick said, “somebody else will pick it up. Then the person who owns it will never get it back.”
Marjorie thought for a minute. “We can keep it safe in case we find out who lost it.” She tucked the big spoon under her arm.
“I’m getting hungry,” Nick said.
Marjorie looked at the blue sky. “I wonder what time it is.”
“We’d better not be late for supper again.” Nick began to walk along the narrow path that went through the woods on Lookout Mountain.
The two children had spent the afternoon in Prospect Park. Now they went around the big hill until they came to the road that went through the park. Marjorie took a look at the traffic. “It must
be rush hour.”
While they waited for the light to turn green, Nick and Marjorie heard a clear, high whistle.
Nick looked around. “What was that, Marge?”
“It’s that bird, there. Come on. The light’s changing.” Marjorie walked quickly across the road.
Nick ran after her. “Marge,” he said, “the bird followed us.” He pointed to the lowest branch of a chestnut tree.
Marjorie laughed. “What makes you think it’s the same bird, Nick?”
“It looks exactly like the one that was whistling at us on the other side of the road,” Nick said.
“That’s a starling,” Marjorie told him. “There are lots of them in Brooklyn. And they all look alike.”
The bird was about as big as a robin. It was fat and had a short tail. In the sunlight its black feathers gleamed with purple and green lights.
“It’s beautiful!” Nick said.
Marjorie nodded. “I never really looked hard at a starling before.” She took a step toward the bird.
The starling flapped up into the branches of the chestnut tree.
“You scared it, Marge,” Nick said.
“I only wanted to get a better look,” Marjorie told him.
“Well, if all starlings look alike, you’ll have another chance.” Nick started running toward the park gate.
Marjorie raced after him.
Marjorie and Nick lived four long blocks from the park. They ran along Ocean Parkway and turned the corner onto Church Avenue. By the time they reached East Fifth Street both of them were out of breath.
They stopped running and walked halfway down the block.
Nick looked up into the big sycamore tree in front of their house. He grabbed his sister’s arm. “Marge, there’s that spooky bird! It is following us.”
“Don’t be silly, Nick. I told you there are lots of starlings in Brooklyn.” Marjorie climbed the front stoop of the old stone house. Nick came up after her. Marjorie’s house key was on a string around her neck. She unlocked the front door.
Their father came into the hall. He hugged both Marjorie and Nick at the same time. “You just made it, kids,” Mr. Gordon said. “Any minute now I would have had to set the table. Isn’t that your job, Nick?”
Marjorie ran upstairs and hid the big wooden spoon in the bottom drawer of her dresser. Then she washed her hands and went down to the kitchen to help her mother.
At suppertime Marjorie said, “We saw a starling in the park. I never knew they were such pretty birds.”
Mrs. Gordon put a carrot stick on Nick’s plate. “In some countries starlings are kept in cages.”
“That’s awful,” Marjorie said. “Birds should be flying around. Why would anybody put one in a cage?”
“Maybe because starlings can be taught to talk,” her mother said.
“Like parrots?” Nick asked.
“Don’t get any ideas, Nick,” Mrs. Gordon said. “I don’t like birds in cages any more than Marjorie does.”
“Maybe we wouldn’t have to keep it in a cage,” Nick said. “It could just fly from room to room.”
Mrs. Gordon put down her fork. “I’m sorry, Nick. I don’t want you bringing any birds into the house. They belong outdoors.”
After supper, everybody went into the living room. “King Kong is on television tonight,” Nick said.
His mother laughed. “You don’t want to see that old movie.”
“Yes, we do,” Nick said.
“It will give you nightmares,” Mrs. Gordon said.
“Dad can watch it with us.” Nick turned on the television. “He can turn it off if we get scared.”
Mrs. Gordon picked up her library book. “I’m warning you. If either of you children wakes up screaming tonight, you’ll both go without television for the rest of the week.”
Marjorie had never liked scary movies, but she didn’t want Nick to know it. He was younger than she was. She sat down on the sofa beside her father.
The movie wasn’t nearly as scary as Marjorie had thought it would be. Maybe that was because her friends had told her how it ended.
When the movie was over, Mrs. Gordon closed her book. “Bedtime, Nick.”
Nick went upstairs to take a shower and brush his teeth. Then it was Marjorie’s turn.
“Marge, wake up!”
Marjorie opened her eyes. In the darkness she saw Nick standing beside her bed. “What’s the matter?”
“Somebody’s outside my window, trying to get in,” Nick said.
Marjorie sat up in bed. “Sh-sh! Don’t let Mother hear you.”
King Kong must have been too scary for Nick after all, Marjorie thought. And if Mrs. Gordon knew Nick had a nightmare, Marjorie wouldn’t be allowed to watch her favorite program on Saturday. “I’ll go to your room and see what’s going on,” she told her brother.
Marjorie slipped out of bed and started down the hall. Nick tiptoed after her. His room was at the very end of the hall. As Marjorie came closer to it, she heard a creaky noise.
She reached the doorway. The noise was coming from the window. Marjorie’s heart started to pound. A little cold shiver crawled up her back.
She took a deep breath. Then she walked over to the window. Nick came right behind.
Marjorie wasn’t tall enough to see over the air conditioner that was in the window. She looked around the shadowy room. “Where’s your chair?” she whispered.
Nick went to get his desk chair. Marjorie stepped onto it and lifted one slat of the venetian blind.
Nick climbed up beside her. The two children peeked through the crack in the blind.
They saw two feet in shoes with big buckles on them. The feet were standing on the air conditioner outside. Two thin, bony hands were trying to push up the window Mr. Gordon had taped shut.
Marjorie grabbed the venetian blind cord. She pulled the blind all the way up to the top of the tall window. Now Nick and Marjorie could see that there was a woman on the air conditioner. She was wearing a long dress and a pointed hat with a wide brim.