“Now?” Katybird gasped.
“Now.”
Katy raised her chin. “With cunning mind an’ strongest will, I call the hex of war to still!”
Delpha hesitated, then grasped Katy’s hand. I’m sick of being alone, Delpha marveled. I like Katybird having my back. Maybe Katy was right. Maybe the two of them were stronger together. It was a wild sliver of trust. “Love like hearth with coals aglow,” Delpha chanted in a low voice. “My open heart makes magic grow.”
The air between Delpha and Katy went electric, a summer storm ready to rumble its way across the mountains. Delpha’s eyes widened, and Katy gave a quick nod.
“These balanced pow’rs make evil quake! Together, watch the curses break!” they shouted up to the stars. A wave of calm mushroomed in a translucent ripple from Delpha and Katy’s clasped hands. Even the crickets hushed, and all Delpha could hear was blood rushing in her ears.
Then peaceful, rasping hums from a hundred zombie throats mingled together and whispered through the spring leaves, gathering into a single, lilting melody. Ragged forms limped into the clearing toward their crumbling headstones, and Katybird and Delpha tensed, jumping out of their paths. But the corpses walked and hummed peaceably all the way to their graves, yawning and adjusting their moldering bosoms and bonnets for a long eternity’s nap. They lay down, ladylike, in front of their respective grave markers, where, without a fuss, they sank back into their dirt, and unending sleep reclaimed them.
Katy and Delpha stood breathless, staring, until the rightful sounds of the forest resumed. A single whoop of joy went up from the woods, and a few seconds later, Tyler loped out from between the trees, disheveled and beaming. “Yes! Yes!” he howled, limping across the clearing, alive and well. When he reached them, he grabbed his glasses from Katy and shoved them crookedly onto his nose.
Delpha felt the corner of her mouth slide upward. “Looks like we did it,” she whispered to Katybird.
Katybird’s face crumpled with relief. “Then the stone hexes are undone. I’ve got my family back.”
Delpha hugged Katy fiercely, trying to ignore the tight lump gathering in her own throat. That makes one of us, she thought.
* * *
Moments later, as Tyler doubled over to catch his breath, Clement staggered from the forest with Delpha’s mama close behind, her gauzy blouse flapping around her open arms as she gathered Delpha tight to her chest. Her eyes were so red and swollen, the blue parts shone like spring bluets. Delpha crumpled like a rag doll.
“I’m sorry I lied to you, Mama. And I’m sorry about the zombies,” Delpha’s muffled voice croaked.
“Hush, now. I’m just happy you’re all right,” Mama crooned. Then she whispered into Delpha’s ear: “I’m sorry, too. We … got a lot of things to talk about, but this ain’t the place. I’m real proud of how brave you were. Mamaw would’ve been real proud, too.”
Delpha pulled back in surprise, too stunned to do much except nod.
Katybird and Tyler shuffled awkwardly.
“Y’all all right?” Mama asked them sharply, grabbing their arms and checking them over. Delpha wiped her eyes.
Katybird shrugged. Tyler beamed, making the cuts on his face bleed faster. “I prob’ly need stitches. Muzz and Honey are gonna kill Clement when they find out he took me zombie hunting while they were on their anniversary trip,” Tyler quipped to his uncle, wincing at the sight of the antiseptic spray Clement was pulling from his knapsack.
Clement chuckled, but the laugh didn’t reach his eyes. The ghosts of tears tracked through the forest grime and blood on his cheeks. He kept stealing glances at Delpha and Mama, eyes full of the same questions Delpha wanted answers to: Who are we now? What happens next? Are some cuts too deep to heal? Delpha felt small and shy, suddenly, and even though she wished she knew how to make things right, she was a far piece off from knowing how. Someone grabbed Delpha’s hand and squeezed.
You ain’t alone, Katy’s hand said.
Delpha swallowed hard and squeezed back.
Thanks.
A glint of copper on Clement’s finger caught Delpha’s eye. It was familiar as sunshine, because Delpha had seen its twin every day on Mama’s hand since … forever. Wedding bands. Well, then. Folks didn’t go around wearing old wedding bands unless they still had some feelings about them.
“M-mind if I help?” Mama asked, motioning to Tyler’s swollen leg.
Tyler shrugged.
“May I borrow your wand, Delpha?”
Delpha nearly dropped her teeth. “To use?”
“Well, I’m not gonna eat it.”
Delpha handed it over, astonished and curious. Tyler and Katy exchanged Are you seeing this? glances. Mama took a deep, juddering breath, raised the wand, and gently swished it over Tyler’s injured leg. Cool mountain mist snaked around Tyler’s leg until the angry red streaks shrank away to nothing. Just like that.
“Th-thank you, ma’am,” Tyler stammered. When Mama turned to give back Delpha’s wand, Tyler mouthed to Delpha, Oh. My. Lanta!
Delpha stared at her mother, bug-eyed.
“It’s been a while since I used my healing magic.” Mama sighed, inspecting Tyler’s healed leg with a critical eye. “Not too shabby.” She looked like a person who had been on a diet far too long, finally eating pineapple upside-down cake again and remembering how nice it is. Tyler grinned at her and handed her a tin of Vienna sausages.
“I better sit down a minute, though. Forgot how much conjure wears you slap out.”
Mama walked over to the rotting log where Clement sat, and the two of them began talking in hushed tones. After a minute, Mama timidly raised the wand and began to heal the wound on Clement’s head. Delpha squirmed and pretended not to notice, climbing into the battered wreck that was Puppet, where she made herself busy thumbing through the spellbook while Katy and Tyler rolled pine cones for Podge to chase. She leaned back against the worn wooden walls, relishing the peace and quiet.
After a few minutes of searching, a lopsided smile crawled up Delpha’s face. “Hey, Katy. C’mere.” Delpha waved Katy over to Puppet, feeling almost bashful, spellbook dangling beneath her arm. Tyler trailed behind Katy, eavesdropping as usual.
Katy hugged Delpha. Delpha let her … for three whole seconds.
“You okay?”
“Yup. I found a spell I thought you might like in the spellbook. It’s another two-parter.”
Katy pulled a face. “I think I’ve had enough magic for one night. I want to get back to Mama an’ Nanny an’ Caleb, soon as we can.”
“No rush. I think we’ll need to practice a few days for this one, anyway. It’s heavy-duty nature magic.”
Katy raised her eyebrows. “Nature magic?”
Delpha’s smile broadened. “Tree magic, specifically.”
A WEEK LATER, IN THE CHEERY APRIL SUNSHINE, a small procession of pickups and Jeeps wound through the blossoming cherry trees to Wise Woman Cemetery.
Soon, a circle of people gathered around a dilapidated shed.
Tyler Nimble stood flanked by his mothers, who had grounded him through the end of eternity (and were very proud of him).
Beside them stood Katybird Hearn, along with her entire family, who had also grounded Katy for the rest of her natural life (and were also very, very proud of her).
Delpha, Mama, and Clement completed the circle. Delpha’s family wasn’t quite a family yet. On Katy’s Nanny’s advice, Delpha was giving her parents time. But Clement was spending all his spare hours quietly fixing things around the McGill cabin and admiring Delpha’s woodworking, and for now, that suited Delpha perfectly. It was a quiet rhythm.
The rest of the Hollow seemed eager to forget about all the trouble with the zombies, especially since Mama had helped their amnesia along with a “Don’t Worry Yer Head About It None” charm from the McGill spellbook.
Delpha opened the spellbook and winked at Katybird. Katy grinned and joined her next to Puppet. They’d been practicing on dead saplings ev
ery afternoon, and now they were ready.
“Go on, Hearn,” Delpha grinned, holding the book out for Katy to read. Delpha raised her wand. Katy tucked back her newly purpled hair and raised her chin before chanting with Delpha:
“Boards be unhewn,
Nails undone—
Rev’rse the course of time.
Let rootlets crawl.
Let branches sprawl.
Up to yonder sky thee climb!”
In a flurry of motion, Puppet’s boards took the vague shape of a tree. Delpha held her wand steady as pulp grew around the worn planks. A thick skin of bark spread over the tree’s surface, and gnarled roots plunged deep into the earth, rippling the dirt beneath their feet. Green-tinted light filtered through leaves overhead and danced across the girls’ faces. Their families oohed and aahed at their handiwork. The tree was a little lopsided, branches dipping low to the ground on one side—a feature Tyler was cheerfully taking advantage of in a clumsy attempt to scale it.
“It’s a little cattywampus,” Katy whispered behind her hand, giggling.
Delpha wiped her nose on the back of her hand.
“It’s perfect.”
To Lauren Spieller, for your tenacity, honesty, and tireless feedback, and for believing so hard in this story, and to the entire family at Triada US Literary Agency.
To Jenne Abramowitz, for your editor’s eye and for your love of Howler’s Hollow.
To the many wonderful individuals on the team at Scholastic, for your hard work and support, and to the amazing marketing and publicity teams.
To the brave souls who read early iterations of this book and gave feedback behind the scenes; I am so grateful for you. You know who you are, and I am so grateful for your encouragement and honesty.
To my beta readers and long-suffering critique partners; thanks for wading through the tears and notes with me. May your tea mugs stay hot and your joy be great.
To the dear friends who forbade me from giving up or feeling sorry for myself; you know who you are. I promise to return the favor.
To InterACT, for your tireless advocacy and for making a wealth of solid, generous information available to me, I am humbled and grateful.
To my lifelong partner-in-adventure, for countless cups of coffee, therapeutic arc-welding sessions, and late-night processing walks; I love you.
To my granny ancestors, actual and inherited, whose names are sprinkled liberally throughout the book, thanks for working your fingers to the bone to get me here. It’s never far from my mind, and I’m grateful.
My kind, indomitable children: This book would never have existed without you.
My Gnome, for being wickedly good at playing the “what if ” game. The zombies are for you.
Ash Van Otterloo is the debut author of Cattywampus. When they’re not writing and freelance editing, they love gardening, hiking, exchanging playful banter, and collecting folklore stories. A longtime resident of the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, they now live in Washington with their spouse and four feral children.
Copyright © 2020 by Ash Van Otterloo
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Van Otterloo, Ash, author.
Title: Cattywampus / Ash Van Otterloo.
Description: New York: Scholastic Inc., 2020. | Audience: Ages 8–12. | Audience: Grades 4–6. | Summary: Magic is strictly forbidden in the McGill house, but Delpha McGill has found the family book of spells, and plans to use it to make things a little easier for herself and her mother; Katybird Hearn comes from a rival family of witches, but her magic has been slow to emerge, and she thinks a spell book is just what she needs to help things along—and when a quarrel between the two unleashes a graveyard full of angry zombies the two girls must work together to save Howler’s Hollow, and themselves.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019024096 (print) | LCCN 2019024097 (ebook) | ISBN 9781338561593 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781338561616 (ebk)
Subjects: LCSH: Witches—Juvenile fiction. | Magic—Juvenile fiction. | Grimoires—Juvenile fiction. | Zombies—Juvenile fiction. | Friendship—Juvenile fiction. | Appalachian Region—Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Witches—Fiction. | Magic—Fiction. | Zombies—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Appalachian Region—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.V38 Cat 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.V38 (ebook) | DDC 813.6 [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019024096
First edition, August 2020
Cover design by Baily Crawford
Cover art © 2020 by Abigail L. Dela Cruz
e-ISBN 978-1-338-56161-6
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
Cattywampus Page 19