The Accidental Witch

by Jessica Penot

“Yes,” Millie said.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “She lives in the city now,” Millie said. “Since your father escaped her, she’s stayed pretty close so she could watch you.”

  “What city?”

  “Huntsville,” Millie said.

  “My dad left her?” I asked in exasperation.

  “Your dad believed she was evil.”

  “Why didn’t she take me?” I asked.

  “He said he wouldn’t have her raising you up to be another witch. He said that the world had enough evil. He said he would thrash the evil out of you,” Millie said.

  “You knew them well?” I asked.

  “I knew your mama well. She was the most powerful witch I’d ever met and she knew how to use her power. She and I spoke the same language, if you know what I mean.”

  “Why can’t she teach me?” I asked.

  “Your mama broke from The Guild. She’s doin’ stuff now no one ought to do and you’d only get into more trouble if you met her,” Millie said.

  “I want to know where she lives,” I demanded.

  “No,” Millie said.

  “You tell me!” I demanded.

  “Hell no,” Millie said.

  “Well, then damn you all. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.” I stood up, glared at the odd bunch, and stormed off. Diane was quick to follow me. She grabbed me in the parking lot and put her hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry Millie’s a bit gruff,” Diane said.

  I was so mad, I couldn’t see straight. I looked at Diane. All my life had been a crock of shit. I should have known. I should have known my father was lying to me. He’d never done anything kind or right for me in his life. I had learned to never trust him. I should have known she was out there and she wanted me. He used to lock me in closets and force me to pray until my lips began to bleed. The bastard. He’d called me a witch whore and said he would protect the world from my kind. The hatred in my heart seethed, but the old bastard was dead and there was no one for me to yell at. I could hunt my step-mother down and curse her, but she probably didn’t know much more than I did. She’d always been a poor, stupid creature who did as she was told.

  “I hate Millie,” I said.

  “She means well,” Diane said.

  “Millie never means well. She treats the patients like crap. She treats the staff like crap and now I know she could have saved me from my shitty ass childhood, but she didn’t because she’s a bitch.”

  “I’m sorry,” Diane said. “Being a witch isn’t easy.”

  “What?”

  “It’s hard on all of us. Your father hated you because he knew your power and he feared it. It’s the same for all of us. Millie’s had it bad, too. She’s like that for a reason.”

  “How have you had it bad?” I asked with enough bitterness to kill.

  “I know everything,” Diane said. “I know how I’m going to die. I know I’ll never get married or have children. I know that the only man I’ll ever love will die in my arms and that his child will die coming out of me. It’s kind of hopeless. Nothing will change, so I date who I want when I want and I avoid getting close to men. If you asked me, I could tell you everything about your future, but I won’t, because I wouldn’t be that cruel.”

  “Is my future that bad?” I asked.

  “No, I just can’t see it until someone asks. I wish I could prevent myself from asking myself.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “It is what it is,” Diane said. “You have to understand what you are, even if you won’t stop and you won’t take a guild teacher.”

  “What am I?” I asked.

  “You know your house?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “It was the most haunted house in Alabama. It had more ghosts than a cemetery. Necromancers used to go there to find answers because the ghosts talk there.”

  “So?”

  “You moved in and the ghosts left,” Diane said. “They left because you are a spellcaster. You draw spirits from the other side. I’m not talking about ghosts. I’m talking about the others, the ones we can’t see and weren’t ever human. You draw them and the ghosts fear them. You can control them with spells. They have to do your bidding.”

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “Every religion has a different answer, don’t they? Your pa would’ve called ’em demons. Some would call them gods. I call them spirits and they are dangerous.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I can’t teach you magic. I don’t know magic, but the magic you are given comes from them and you have to be careful, because when you cast the spells, if you do one thing wrong, they’ll use that mistake.”

  “You don’t think I should stop?” I asked.

  “You can’t change what you are. I bet you didn’t even mean to start all this. None of us do. It’s always an accident. We don’t want this, but once we’ve begun, we can’t stop. Even if you stopped, you’d be drawn to them without knowing. Like your house, it is a place of power and you are drawn to it. They would have you one way or another, better you know what you are dealing with. Plus you are open now. They’ll give you power without you even having to ask.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is a little hard for me to believe.”

  “Why? Haven’t you seen it? I can see it just looking at you. The magic is in you. You are alive. You are beautiful. You have to feel that. They’ve already changed you and filled you with their strength.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “It was an accident, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

  “Then you already know. Just be careful.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Diane. You’re the best.”

  “I know that.”

  I smiled and kissed Diane on the cheek. I got in the car and turned the ignition. I sat for a moment just listening to the motor of the car. The entire evening seemed so unreal. I couldn’t believe any of it had actually happened. I drove home slowly and when I got home, I went straight to bed. I lay there for a long time just staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of my own breath. I wanted to shut down my own feelings and as I lay in the shadows thinking about everything, I couldn’t stop a few tears from dripping down my cheek and falling on my pillow. I wiped the moisture away and rolled over and went to sleep.

  * * *

  I woke up early the next day and ate my usual animal crackers. I was ten minutes late for work. Millie and Emma were the nurses of the day and there really was no worse combination. Millie looked more unpleasant than usual. She was scowling and scaring all the patients away from the nurses’ station with her most potent stink eye. Emma, on the other hand, was talking as loudly as she could with one of the new patients. I decided to bypass the nurses’ station altogether and go straight to the patients. There was no reason for me to risk my life getting in-between those two powder kegs.

  I headed towards Ellie’s room. Ellie was up and brushing her hair. She was humming. I knocked and stepped into her room. She smiled at me. Ellie looked really good. Her long red hair was wet, but smooth. She had put on lipstick and a pretty blue blouse. Her face was clean, and without her usual disheveled, I-just-fell-off-the-back-of-the-truck look, she was almost pretty.

  “You look good,” I said.

  “I feel wonderful,” Ellie said.

  “Wonderful?” I asked.

  “I haven’t felt like this in fifteen years. I’d forgotten that it was even possible to feel like this. I feel … hopeful. I feel like everything is going to be all right.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  Ellie ran across the room and hugged me. “I know you did this,” she said. “I don’t know how, but thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”

  I smiled. “Any time,” I said.

  I walked back to my office. I almost felt like humming again. I sat down at my desk and the computer awoke from its slumber. On the screen was a website for a place that took care of the physically disabled, mentally ill cal
led Hull House. It was quite a ways off in Georgia, but it took Medicaid. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. A pleasant lady on the other end of the phone said that they had beds and that they would be more than happy to take care of Candy. They even had a driver who would drive to Alabama and pick her up. I faxed them all of Candy’s information and went to group with a skip in my step again. I could learn to love life like this.

  George was standing at the door waiting for me when I walked back on the floor. He looked transformed. The filthy, disheveled man I had always known was gone. George was showered and shaven and he had on clean clothes. He smelled good and he was smiling.

  “Hey,” George said.

  “Hey,” I answered back.

  “I feel like a new man,” he said.

  “You look like a new man.”

  The floor was full and almost everyone on the floor was new except for George, Candy, and Ellie. I sat down and looked out at the weepy, crying, crazy group and I knew that I could take away all their suffering. Everything was different. It didn’t matter that the world was flawed or that the doe-eyed woman in the corner had been raped by every man she’d met. It didn’t matter that the fat drunk in the middle had survived the Iraq War only to come home to find his wife shacked up with another man. It didn’t matter that he spent his nights dreaming of old battles and his days running from flashbacks. All the things that had worn down my hope, all the people I couldn’t help, including myself, I could suddenly save. I could wipe away the suffering of the older man in that seat next to me. I could ease the grief of his having to watch his wife die slowly of cancer.

  I looked out at my little group of lost lambs and realized that things would never be the same again. All the struggling to find resources and help for people in a world that didn’t give a flaming fart about anything would be over. It no longer mattered that we lived in a world that treated the poor and lost like old toilet paper. I didn’t have to waste my time searching for kindness in a cruel world. All the praying for some nonprofit organization to pop up with actual open beds and provide healthcare for all the helplessly insane, un-medicated masses who couldn’t afford their meds, would be over. I didn’t need anyone else. I would fix everything. I sat back in my chair and smiled. I had always lied a little in group. I had promised patients that I could help them. I didn’t need to lie anymore. The promises were true.

  * * *

  I didn’t go home after work that day. I went to Aaron’s place. His house was large and modern. It had vaulted ceilings and leather furniture and everything was so clean, you could eat off the floor. Of course, after I had sex with him on the floor, I wouldn’t have eaten off of it, but I certainly would have before. When we were done, he got me a blanket and we lay together on the hardwood looking up at the fan above us. It was cold and I shivered in Aaron’s arms.

  “I love you,” he said.

  I turned and looked at his chiseled features and perfect face. I didn’t know what love was. I doubted I had ever known what love was, but this is what I imagined it was. It was knowing someone cared for you and wanting to be with them. It was desire. These things seemed like love, but I couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t answer him. I just kissed him.

  He reached over and stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. I curled up in his arms and listened to his beating heart. I wished this was love.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  “Oh?” I said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m sorry. This was amazing. Really. There’s a game today and I told some of the guys that I’d watch it with them.”

  “Well,” I said. “You can’t miss that.”

  “Hey,” he said. “Do you wanna come? You aren’t an Auburn fan are you? Because if you are, we’re going to have to call this entire thing off.” He smiled mischievously down at me.

  “Well, “I said with a laugh. “Now that you mention it …”

  “That’s it. We’re done. I can’t be seen in public with an Auburn fan.”

  I laughed. I could shit twice about football, but I grew up in Alabama, so I had to know the language. “You have nothing to worry about,” I said. “Roll Tide.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Thank God.”

  He leapt up and pulled his pants on and threw on a T-shirt. It was an Alabama T-shirt. He smiled at me. I got up slowly and got dressed.

  “Damn,” he said as he watched me dress. “You’re amazing. You know that?”

  “I think you need glasses,” I answered.

  “I can’t believe it took me this long to notice you,” he said.

  “It’s hard to see through that crowd of blondes that is always following you.”

  He laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want to come watch the game with me?”

  “No,” I said. “I have some errands I have to run.”

  We walked out of the house together and he walked me to my car. He kissed me and I found myself wishing he’d skip the game, but between sex and football, I think football usually won. I drove away knowing exactly where I was going. I was tired of choosing between my old clothes from Chicago and the dresses I had turned into my death shrouds over the last year. I was going shopping. I hadn’t spent any money on anything but chips, soda, beer, and animal crackers in forever and I was going to drive to Huntsville and buy myself an entire new wardrobe. I put my sunglasses on and leaned back. I could almost smell the leather of new shoes.

  * * *

  That night I put on a long black dress I had just bought. I put on the dress and walked slowly back to my cabin. I lit my candle garden again. I lit the lights and sparks exploded from the tops of them. The smell of rosemary and juniper filled the cabin, and I could almost feel the energy expand in the cabin as I raised my arms and cried out to my spirit, to the one I had called to help me.

  I raised my arms and said, “This magic is spent and sent.”

  The night grew bright and I felt drunk on the power of the night. I snuffed each candle out and walked back home. In the morning, everyone on the floor was born again. The soldier’s wife came back to him. The doe-eyed rape victim found all her rapists suddenly repentant and wanting desperately to give her money to make amends for their crimes. The old man who was drowning in his grief found himself comforted by his wife’s widowed sister. Candy was gone to her new home and the floor was filled with joy.

  Ellie pulled me aside after group, “You should have private sessions. You should go into private practice. You are really a miracle worker.”

  “I can’t,” I said softly. “I can’t get my license.”

  “Don’t call it psychology, then. Call yourself a New Age healer. You don’t need a license to be a healer”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Look at what you’ve done,” Ellie said. “I know it was you. I’ve been everyplace looking for this kind of happiness. It’s you. You’ve fixed everything. You shouldn’t hide a gift like this. I have a little place that I own. It’s just a little shop, but I have a couple ladies that work there, doing massage therapy, you know? You should stop by. I have an extra office. You could work out of my office. You could just charge fee for service like I do and then the licensing and the insurance wouldn’t matter. You are amazing. You shouldn’t waste this gift or confine it to these walls.”

  I had no idea Ellie could be so eloquent or passionate. I hadn’t ever seen her without snot dangling out of her nose.

  “Thanks, Ellie, but …”

  Ellie just handed me her card and walked away. She didn’t give me time to say no again. I looked at my watch. It was time to go to the ER. There were more people to see. I walked over to the nurse’s station to tell them where I was going. Millie was scowling at me. I really didn’t want to deal with her shit, but I couldn’t see my way around it, so I walked right up to her.

  “I can see what you’re doing and you have to know that you’re hurting these people more than you are helping them,” she hissed.

  “How do you figure that?�
� I asked

  “They’ll never learn to deal with life,” she said.

  “Yeah. Because life is teaching them well. It’s teaching them that some people get nothing but shit and others get bowls of gold-plated chocolate. Life is crap. Any relief I can give to the people on the bottom of the pile of shit, I’ll do without thinking, because some people never have to learn to deal with life and others do nothing but deal with it. And you know what, if you get in my way, I will put a curse on you so thick that you’ll have to crawl through your own vomit to get to the bathroom to vomit some more.”

  Millie drew back in something that resembled fear. I had never seen Millie back down. I had never seen anyone silence her, but I had. She placed her hand over her mouth. I looked at her and smiled. She just stared into my eyes. I grabbed my clipboard and walked away. That felt so good, I wanted to laugh.

  I walked into the ER like I was on top of the world. I had on new clothes and my shoes clacked against the floor as I walked. I felt like a phoenix. I had burnt up everything that I had been and had been reborn out of the ashes. I was new.

  Diane watched me walk towards her with a quizzical expression on her face. She was wearing her usual ghost scrubs. She looked lovely, as always.

  “Wow,” Diane said as I approached the ER nurses’ station.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You are on fire,” she said.

  “What?” I said again.

  “Between the new clothes and the magic, you are glowing. You’re beautiful.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” I said and for the first time in my life I believed what she said might be true.

  “Bed eight is for you,” Diane said.

  I grabbed the chart and walked down the hall to the room. I looked over the fact sheet before I stepped into the room. Bed eight was a paranoid schizophrenic with a long history of institutionalization who was having command hallucinations telling him to kill his wife and children. On the risk assessment, he scored a ten out of ten. I stepped into the ER room and waved away the security guard, who’d been sitting with him, with a pleasant smile and a wink. I assured the officer I was in no danger. The man who sat on the bed looked harmless. I couldn’t help but think, What a waste. He was a beautiful, young man. He looked like a model. His body was perfect, but his mind was lost.