Cattywampus

by Ash Van Otterloo

  “J-just. Around. With Katybird Hearn and Tyler Nimble, s’all,” Delpha stammered, blinking back terrified tears. If Mama found out …

  “Since when do you spend time with those two?” Mama snapped, still texting, ignoring the screams around them.

  “We were just … up at the old workshop on Graystone Mountain, gettin’ my knife sharpened.”

  Delpha’s mama whirled, eyes wide, and gave Delpha’s arm a good shake. “You went where?”

  “I know it’s far, Mama. But it was just to see Tyler’s uncle.” Delpha looked back helplessly toward the woods behind the hardware store, where Puppet was hidden.

  Mama’s lips went tight, her face chalk white with rage, and she parked Delpha on a bench outside the diner. “You’re goin’ home. I’ve got to drive out to the Lawsons’ and catch a baby. Mrs. Miller’ll pick you up right here in one minute and carry you out to the house. Stay there and lock the doors. Pack your suitcase up, too.” Mama shook her head as she walked toward her beat-up old Buick, muttering, “S’high time we hightailed it outta this godforsaken Hollow.”

  Delpha opened her mouth to protest, but what would she say? This is all my doin’, Mama. But don’t worry, I might could get it under control, I think? That’d go over with Mama like a fart at a funeral. But Delpha had no intention of going home with Mrs. Miller, Mama’s midwifery partner. The ruckus on the other end of Main Street got louder. Delpha waited, trembling, until Mama’s taillights bounced out of sight.

  Then Delpha sprinted for all she was worth. Lungs screaming, she raced back to Main Street to find Katybird Hearn.

  KATY WAS HALFWAY TO THE MUSEUM BOOTH WHEN the shouts began. She glanced over her shoulder. Smoke snaked upward across the street, thick smoke that wasn’t from the annual barbecue pit. She doubled her pace. At last, she skidded to a stop in front of her family’s tent. Her mother stood peering out over the frantic crowd in confusion, shielding her eyes from the sun.

  “Mama! Nanny!” A lump of dread welled in Katy’s throat. Her ears went hot, but there was no going back now. Mama startled at Katy’s voice, then latched onto Katy’s shoulders with both hands, looking her up and down for signs of injury.

  “Katybird Hearn, where have you been? What do you mean, leaving a note saying you’d walk to the festival?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry, but there ain’t time!” Katy cried. “Me an’ Delpha McGill … we did something stupid. Delpha cast a spell in the cemetery, and these—these bodies came up out of the ground. And now they’re killing folks, and there’s a Reverse-Curse from Delpha’s spellbook to fix it. But my magic won’t work, and I can’t do my half of it. You or Nanny has to do it.”

  “What?” Nanny screeched.

  An explosion from the direction of the church rattled the tent’s poles, and a fresh wave of screams traveled down the street. Katy gasped. The McGill zombies had escaped the baptismal tank. “Oh no! Mama, it’s them! I tried to trap ’em in the church, but …”

  “Don’t you worry,” her mother said, then turned to Nanny. “Mama, find Caleb! Katybird, take me to Delpha. Let’s run.”

  Relief flooded Katybird as her mother hustled around the table, hips swinging in determination. Mama held out her hand to Katy—but as Katy reached to take it, her mother’s eyes widened, and she shoved Katybird down hard onto the sidewalk. A split second later, there came a deafening crack!

  Katy watched, helpless, as her mama slumped sideways against the table, gasping for air. The tall McGill zombie from the church shrieked in triumph several feet away. Katy’s nanny toppled, too. Katy caught her mama’s head in her arms before it hit the ground, cradling it in the crook of her elbow. Katy heard a growl. Tyler Nimble rounded the tent in his Yow form, tackling the zombie to the ground and pinning her wand hand with his foot.

  “Mama!” Katybird sobbed, burying her face in her mama’s hair. Katy half hoped she could push the stone hex back with love alone. She tried, too, but the awful death-gray color snaked across her mama’s pretty skin anyway. “No! No!”

  “I love you, baby. Don’t … forget,” her mama gasped.

  “Mama, no, please!”

  “There’s only one Katy …”

  Her mama’s hair didn’t smell like her mama anymore. Katy caught the sob in her throat before it could escape, unwilling to believe that her mama was really gone. There must be a way to fix all this, she decided. She stood, numb, and gazed over the table. Nanny’s body lay stiff and gray, just like Mama’s.

  The world was a blur of tears, but Katy ground her teeth stubbornly. The McGill zombie pinned beneath Tyler’s foot wheezed, then gave a vile, throaty chuckle. Tyler growled at the cackling zombie, struggling to keep it still. Katy’s belly became a furnace, melting her fear. She whirled, fists clenched, then ran over and jammed the heel of her sneaker into the side of the witch’s grisly face with all her weight.

  “Ye cannae hurt th’ dead, Hearn bairn,” the zombie rasped, clucking. “All my sisters will descend from yonder hills soon. It’s a war we’ll be havin’. Ye cannae stop it!”

  Katy snatched the zombie’s wand and broke it with a dusty crack. “I can burn your wand, you nasty hunk of—”

  “Take my wand, aye. But it won’t help ye,” it teased with a rotten-toothed grin.

  “No, you’ll help me,” Katy demanded, kicking it hard. “Tell me how to get my family back, or Tyler will rip off your head! I’ll burn it along with your wand. That would be the end of you, I reckon.” The McGill zombie wheezed with laughter, taunting Katy.

  “We cannae be burned. We cannae be stopped. We are the Curse. Ye’ll only git yer folk back after you’ve gubbed us. Eye fur eye, hair fur hair, death fur death, fair is fair!”

  Tyler’s eyes widened in relief. “Your family can be turned back, Katy! They’re not really dead!” He smiled a little and relaxed his grip just long enough for the zombie to twist violently out of his grasp, giving him one last malicious look.

  “I go tae collect my sisters. Daylight is just for havin’ a wee bit of fun! Prepare for full war at midnight!” she spat, before scampering away.

  Tyler glared after her as he shrank into boy form, drenched in sweat and heaving for breath. Then he gazed toward the Hearn booth with a sober expression. Katy knelt beside her mother. Mama couldn’t help Katy now. If anything, Katybird had to do the helping.

  “The zombies are strong,” Tyler admitted, voice shaky.

  “The only way to get ’em back in that cemetery is to do the Reverse-Curse,” Katy whispered through dry lips.

  “So, that means—”

  “I’m out of choices. I do my half of the Reverse-Curse myself.” Despite the late-afternoon sun, Katy shivered. “Or I don’t ever get my family back.”

  “KATYBIRD!” DELPHA’S THROAT WAS RAW FROM hollering, but she kept running and shouting anyway, hand clasping the tincture bottle. The street emptied around her as people gathered into town hall, seeking shelter. A massive Snarly Yow rounded up the dozen or so zombies, both McGills and Hearns, and herded them with fierce growls and snapping jaws, skidding and lunging, until finally the undead witches made a cackling retreat for the forested hills outside town. They almost seemed to be enjoying themselves, taunting him and wearing him out with their endless curse energy. Let ’em run, Tyler, Delpha thought. They’re too many to fight.

  “Katy!” Delpha shouted again, feet tearing across the pavement. She spotted Katybird’s mop of hair, burrowed into Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler was pale and Katy was sobbing, and then Delpha saw why: On the ground behind Katy lay Mrs. Hearn, statue-like and gray.

  Delpha frowned sharply. Her head jerked toward the forest. The Snarly Yow chasing the zombies doubled back toward Main Street, loping toward her. If that wasn’t Tyler, then who was it? The Yow began shifting like she’d seen Tyler do, going from great dog to a lanky, tall man with red, curly hair. Delpha’s mouth fell open in surprise as she recognized Tyler’s uncle, Clement.

  “You’re a … Snarly Yow, too,” Delpha blurted. “
I thought you didn’t like crowds.”

  Clement ran a hand over his face, catching his breath. “Don’t reckon I do. But I heard the emergency announcement on the radio after y’all left. An’ when I walked to the end of my drive to get the mail, I saw a big ol’ path of broken tree limbs cuttin’ clear down the side of the mountain. Hard to miss. I had a funny feeling ya might be in some sort of trouble, with y’ bein’ a witch and all. So I followed you.” He stepped closer.

  Delpha narrowed her eyes. “I’m … I’m not a witch,” she lied.

  “Of course you are. You’re your mama’s girl,” Clement said softly.

  Delpha’s stomach clenched, and she stared at Clement. His eyes flickered between Delpha’s face and the ground several times, like he was deciding what to say.

  Then he reached into the pocket of his worn denim jacket and pulled out a pocketknife—Delpha’s pocketknife with the howling wolf on it—and held it out to her. “I found it on the ground in my driveway. It used to be mine, a long, long time ago.”

  Delpha’s fingers closed around her pocketknife. It was warm. She drew it to her heart, squeezing hard, trying to understand what Clement was saying. That knife had been her daddy’s. She scowled into his earnest face, confused.

  “I hoped it was you the minute you stepped into the workshop, but I thought maybe that was wishful thinkin’,” Clement said in his gentle Hollow twang. “But when you pulled out your pocketknife … Well, I ain’t seen that in years.” Her mind became a jumble of discarded snapshots. Christmases. Lazy Sundays on the porch. Walks in the woods, hand in hand.

  Clement swayed, studying Delpha with hopeful eyes. She gazed back at him, his face merging images of past and present: one young and happy, and the other older and sadder. A flash of pain shot through her head. For a fleeting moment, Delpha thought she recognized her father. “Daddy?” The word slipped out, and the sound of it made her feel young and homesick. A tear crawled down her face as she took a timid step closer. She had the strange urge to hurl herself into his arms and let herself feel … what? Safe?

  But this was Tyler’s uncle Clement, for goodness’ sake. The two versions of him ripped apart again, pulling Delpha’s heart apart with them. It felt like a thousand scabs ripped open at once, leaving her raw and skillet-hot with anger. He had left, and nothing could undo Delpha’s pain now. It was fresh again, and Delpha’s heart hardened around the ghost of her grudge.

  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, Delpha thought. Doors inside her slammed shut on all her feelings: her anger, her loneliness, her pain, and especially that tiny seed of long-buried hope. The only thing left now was duty, and getting the job done. Doin’ the job right.

  “Thanks for the knife, Clement. Now go chase a car.”

  “Delpha!!”

  She turned to see Tyler standing behind her, jaw slack with shock.

  “How long have you been standing there, nosey?” Delpha snapped, wiping her face with her sleeve.

  “Long enough to hear you be rude to my uncle!”

  Delpha rolled her eyes and ground her teeth. “Where’s Katy?”

  Tyler’s chin wobbled. “Her mama and nanny got turned to stone. She needed a minute to … to … Aren’t you going to apologize to my uncle? He saved our butts!”

  Delpha started to walk away, then stopped and spun to face Tyler. She blinked as sudden realization set in. Clement was Tyler’s uncle. They were chummy, even. They’d probably done things like cooking and fishing together, and the jealousy of it hit her chest with the force of a freight train. Fighting to breathe, she pushed the pain away. Anger was simpler. Anger at the wrong person was even more effortless, and it latched onto poor Tyler without Delpha’s permission.

  “Uncle dad-gummed Clement,” Delpha drawled in a flat voice. “This day gets better and better. An’ he’s a wolf, too. Why not?” She flailed and stormed off, dragging Katybird along with her.

  Tyler ran up alongside them, shoulders tense. “Listen, witch girl, my family may be ugly and hairy sometimes, but we’ve sure as heck helped keep the crazy zombies you raised from killin’ you. You could at least be grateful!”

  Delpha gave a brittle laugh. “S’that what you think?”

  “Darn straight it’s what I think! At least we’re not a bunch of coldhearted necromancers, carryin’ on and breathin’ life back into a blood feud! Yeah. Don’t look shocked. I know what necromancer means. I can read big words!”

  Delpha yanked open the door to the unscathed side of the church and shoved Tyler through ahead of her, shocking even herself with her roughness. Tyler pitched forward, then whirled around to gawk at her. He caught his glasses before they slid off his nose. Before he could say a thing, Delpha snarled, “I will never, ever thank your uncle for saving me. I could never appreciate a … thing like that! He’s a lowlife. A monster! And I. Don’t. Need. His. Help. I couldn’t care less what he thinks of me!”

  Tyler blinked as if he’d been slapped. He gazed at Delpha for a moment, fighting tears. At that moment, Katybird arrived, swollen-eyed and sniffling as she stepped through the church door. She put a hand on Delpha’s shoulder, her eyes darting in between Delpha and Tyler.

  “What’s going on here? I could hear you yellin’ from the sidewalk outside.”

  The rage fog lifted from Delpha’s thoughts, replaced swiftly by shame. She’d shoved Tyler. She stared down at her boots, ears hot. How could she begin to explain? “Tyler, look, it’s just that—”

  Tyler held up a hand to cut her off. “Don’t. Just don’t, okay? Let’s … get through this afternoon. I’ll keep my monster self under control, and then I’ll leave you alone forever. Let’s just help Katybird do her danged spell.” Without waiting, he turned and stumbled down the hallway, leaving Delpha lagging behind for once.

  Katybird gazed after Tyler, then gave Delpha a reproachful look.

  “What was that about?”

  Delpha bit her lip, not even sure where to start. Coldhearted, Tyler had said. Maybe it was true. She wished she could call him back, but her voice wouldn’t work.

  “Never mind,” Katybird said in a sharp voice. Her eyes were red from crying, but they had a new steel to them, too. “You got that well water? I’m ready to try the Reverse-Curse again.”

  Delpha nodded. She looked back to see Clement, sitting outside on the church’s doorstep, shoulders stooped. She wished he’d leave. Delpha wanted to tell him so, too, but that meant talking to him again, and her heart couldn’t take that. Katy studied her. Delpha clenched her jaw.

  “Let’s go fix your magic.”

  * * *

  Delpha ducked into a Sunday school room after Tyler, her chest tightening. Her heart hurt. She was hemorrhaging decency and left only with anger. Even her anger hurt.

  She was a mess on the inside, a jumbled tangle of feelings and half-remembered days spent with her father, fury at her mother for not understanding Delpha’s need for magic, and rage at Clement for leaving in the first place. The agony of it—past and present—was unforgivable. She was even mad at herself for wanting to run back outside and just … stare at him. Why hadn’t she recognized him? Delpha had a memory like an elephant. So how on earth had she forgotten his face?

  She tried to focus as Katybird explained how her mama and grandma had been hit with a stone hex, and how it could only be undone by defeating the zombies. “That awful hag said they’d just been havin’ fun, and the real war starts at midnight,” Katy sniffed bitterly. Delpha’s stomach was a stone sinking to the bottom of a creek bed. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Katy that Caleb was petrified, too. Tyler pulled out a little plastic chair for Katybird to sit down, and then he and Delpha sat cross-legged on either side of her, neither looking at the other.

  Tyler’s eyes swam with a raw pain that Delpha didn’t understand, but she knew darn well she’d put it there. She’d been so scared and lost, her words had tumbled out like razors. She couldn’t even recall what all she’d said to Tyler. Feelings were dangerous t
hings. Delpha imagined herself locking hers away somewhere dark and far, far away. Be in charge, Delpha, she told herself. Get ahold of yourself.

  “Here’s the tincture.” She held out the brown bottle to Katybird.

  “I thought you said you had water from my family’s old well,” Katy sniffled, peering at the murky liquid.

  “Delpha thinks it’s an old ginseng tincture made from Hearn well water,” Tyler muttered, hugging his arms across his chest. “But I don’t know, Katy—it looks sketchy as heck.”

  “I’ll drink it.” Katy grabbed the bottle, unscrewing the cap. She gagged at the smell, then squeezed her eyes shut and chugged. Delpha’s hand shot out to slow her down.

  “Easy there, Katy.”

  Katybird coughed and made a face. “It tastes like armpit.” She replaced the cap and sighed. “Okay. Let’s do the Reverse-Curse.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need a minute?” Tyler asked.

  Katybird nodded, chin brave. “This is my family’s best shot.”

  Delpha lowered her eyebrows into fierce lines. “With cunning mind an’ strongest will, I call the hex of war to still,” she began.

  “Love like hearth with coals aglow, my open heart makes magic grow,” Katy responded. Her hands began to sparkle green, but if she noticed, she seemed determined to ignore them.

  Delpha mouthed with feeling, and both girls recited fiercely, “These balanced pow’rs make evil quake! Together, watch the curses break!”

  The cotton-and-paper clouds suspended from the Sunday school ceiling began to sway, then burst into flames. Their strings burned away in an instant, and Delpha and Katybird dove to the side as the clouds fell from the ceiling like comets.

  Tyler yelped and dashed into the hallway in search of a fire extinguisher. He pried one off the wall just outside the door, coughing. Smoke billowed from the Sunday school room’s doorway as Tyler ran back inside.