The Unwilling Witch

by David Lubar

  A piece of notebook paper, blown by the wind, flew up at Lance’s face. He raised a hand to catch it.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. A piece of paper couldn’t do any damage.

  As Lance reached out, he tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and went tumbling. A crowd formed around him. Then someone went for the nurse. I hovered at the edge of the mob. Lance was holding his wrist and moaning. The nurse looked at it and said, “It might be broken.”

  I rushed to my homeroom.

  “I think I broke Lance’s arm,” I told Jan after I’d plunked down in the seat next to her.

  Jan shrugged. “Somebody had to.”

  A moment later, May came in. I could almost feel the fury rising from her. As she walked to her desk in the last row, she flicked her hand out and hit Billy Winkdale on the back of the head. It wasn’t a hard hit—it was more like a high five. Then she slammed her books on her desk and glared around the room as if daring anyone to get in her way.

  “She’s in a great mood,” Jan said.

  “It’s not all her fault,” I said. Then I told Jan what Lance had done.

  “Nasty trick,” Jan said.

  “But she’s pretty nasty herself.”

  “Maybe she was nicer when she was younger,” Jan said.

  I wondered whether people had played a lot of mean tricks on May. But why were those people nasty themselves? Where did it begin? Just thinking about it made my head hurt.

  “I think the rain forest is too big a place to start with,” Jan said, breaking into my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “You have to start smaller,” Jan said. “Maybe you could help the dolphins first. Or how about the speckled lake owl? It’s still endangered, right?”

  “I can’t fool around with this, Jan,” I told her. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

  “So maybe you should start out real slow, like with those hot-fudge sundaes.”

  Morning announcements began, so Jan and I had to stop talking. Then we went outside for the bus to the high school, where we took our swim classes.

  When we got there, we put on our swimsuits and lined up along one side of the pool.

  “Everybody in the water!” Ms. Rambowski yelled. She blew her whistle and we all jumped in.

  I guess I was somewhere in the middle of my leap when it sank in on me that I might not sink. I hit the water and started to bob on the surface like my suit was filled with air. Around me, the rest of the class had started to tread water.

  “Jan,” I whispered, reaching out to tap her shoulder. It was hard to do anything the way I was floating.

  “Oh, boy,” she gasped when she saw me. Or maybe she said, “Oh, buoy.” I really wasn’t in any position to tell.

  We both glanced around. Nobody else had noticed me yet, but I knew someone would look my way any second. Ms. Rambowski was standing right behind me.

  Jan took two strong strokes toward the center of the pool. Then she screamed and vanished under the water. An instant later, she popped back up, yelled, “Help!” and sank back down again. Ms. Rambowski leaped over me, diving into the water.

  I almost went to save Jan before I realized what she was doing. What a great friend she was. I climbed out of the water. A moment later, Ms. Rambowski dragged Jan to the side of the pool.

  Gasping and sputtering, Jan choked out the word, “Cramp,” and then started coughing.

  “I’ll stay with her,” I said, rushing over to her side.

  “Would you?” Ms. Rambowski asked. “That would be so kind.”

  “I’d be happy to,” I said. I helped Jan leave the pool.

  “How was I?” she asked when we got to the locker room.

  “Amazing,” I said. “I was ready to rescue you myself.”

  “Thanks. What exactly was going on back there?”

  “I’m a witch,” I told her. “It’s as simple as that.”

  “You can be a crab, maybe,” Jan said. “And a bit of a grump once in a while. But I wouldn’t call you a witch. Except for that time when your mom wouldn’t let you go to the Twisting Apes concert. Then you were a real witch.”

  “I’m serious. That’s what all this power is about. I can’t cross running water. And I float.”

  Jan nodded. “If that’s the case, I can see where you might want to avoid swimming pools. But you know, it would have been fun if we’d stayed. We could have stuck an umbrella in your belly button and used you to hold cans of soda.”

  She laughed. Then I started to laugh, and both of us had to struggle to keep from being heard out in the pool.

  “What am I going to do?” I asked Jan.

  “The backstroke?”

  We barely managed to look properly serious again by the time the class returned to the locker room.

  When we got back to school, it was time for history. As I walked into the room, I saw that we had a substitute. She was standing at the desk with her head down, studying the lesson plan. Then she looked up and I saw her face. My arms dropped to my sides, and I heard my books hit the floor with a crash.

  Twenty

  TEACHER’S PET

  Elestra Malacorsa smiled at me. “Hello,” she said to the class. “I’m Miss Malacorsa. I’ll be your substitute for the next few days. It seems that poor Mr. Whittledown was taken suddenly ill. From what I understand, he ate a piece of bad fruit. But I’m sure you’ll all work just as hard for me.”

  During the class, she acted like we’d never met. When the bell rang, I had a hard time gathering my books. They kept slipping from my hands. When I finally got them, I looked up and saw I was the only one in the room with Elestra.

  “You are in great danger,” she said.

  “Yeah, from you.” I took a step toward the door, wondering if it would do any good to run.

  “I’m not a threat. I’m here to help you. As your power struggles to take form, anything might happen.”

  Maybe she was trying to help me. But there was something I needed to know before I could decide whether to trust her. “Why did you buy the book?”

  “To protect you. The woman from the shop is a power-seeker. I suspect she has some of her own, but she wants more. It’s lucky for you I came into her shop and saw what she was doing. She’s the sly sort. Lying on the floor, looking so helpless, I’m sure she was planning something nasty. I was afraid that there was danger in the book. Traps can take many forms. I’m sorry I had to deceive you, but it was the best way.”

  “But the money attacked me.” I shuddered as I thought about the creatures on my dresser.

  She frowned. “And you thought that was my doing?”

  “Yes. I mean, I did think that. I guess I made it happen myself.” Or did I? I remembered that Miss Chutney had held the money and then made those motions with her hands.

  “You see? You’re in danger until you can control your power. Until then, I’ll be here to help protect you.”

  The bell rang for the next class. “I have to go.”

  I rushed into science and took my seat. If Elestra was really here to help me, that would be a great relief. I wondered how long it would take to learn to control my power. Maybe it didn’t matter. Soon, if I wanted to, I could pass my power to someone else. But who? I looked around. Katrina, at the far corner of the room, caught my glance and looked back for an instant, then quickly turned her head away. If ever there was a person who could use some power, it was Katrina.

  Across the room, I saw May carving away at the top of her desk with a pen. If ever there was someone who already had too much power, it was May Mellon. But in some ways, she didn’t have any power at all. She could push the rest of us around, but people didn’t like being pushed around. I didn’t care to think what someone like her would do with my power.

  “Well, Angelina? I’m waiting for your answer.”

  I looked up at Mrs. Pushbind. I’d been so deep in thought, I didn’t have a clue what she’d asked me. Give me a break, I thought. Just ask someone else. I blew a puff of air
up at my bangs in frustration.

  Mrs. Pushbind blinked, then said, “Well, never mind, I’ll just ask someone else.” She walked across the room and repeated the question.

  I felt my whole body tingle. If I had just done what I thought I’d done, I had awesome power. I watched the teacher and tried to make her do something else. Bark like a dog, I thought. For good measure, I puffed up at my bangs again. She cleared her throat. It sounded a little like a bark, but I wasn’t sure I’d caused it. I looked over at May. Scratch your head, I thought as I puffed air.

  May scratched her head.

  But that wasn’t a real test. May was always scratching.

  “Clear your desks,” Mrs. Pushbind said. “It’s time for a quiz.” She started writing the questions on the board.

  Around me, everyone was hard at work, scribbling away. I thought about what I’d read in the books I’d borrowed. It helped to have an object to focus the power. That was one of the keys. Lance had been hurt because I’d just let the power loose without any direction. I wouldn’t do that again. But I had to find out whether I could control my power.

  I held up my own pencil and broke the tip with my thumb. Snap. Then I blew on the tip. Energy flowed from me into the air, spreading in all directions. Snap, snap, snap. Two dozen other pencil tips snapped. I couldn’t help grinning as the whole class headed for the pencil sharpener. I noticed that my thumb was a bit sore, as if I’d actually used it to break every single one of those pencils.

  Mrs. Pushbind looked like she wanted to say something, but all the kids held up their pencils to show her.

  “I did it,” I whispered to Jan as I got in line behind her.

  “What was the point?” she whispered back.

  I realized she was making a joke about the pencil points. But I still answered her. “The point is power,” I said.

  Life at school was about to get very exciting.

  Twenty-one

  PRANKS A LOT

  I didn’t break the pencils again. I felt that I wouldn’t learn anything by repeating myself. As I walked down the hall with Jan on our way toward lunch, I thought about what else I could do. The cafeteria was loaded with possibilities.

  “Lunch is going to be interesting,” I told Jan as we took our seats. We always brought sandwiches so we wouldn’t have to stand in line.

  “Hardly the word I’d choose.” Jan peeked into her bag and said, “Nope. Nothing interesting in here. Nothing edible in here, for that matter.”

  We sat at an empty table. I didn’t want anyone to notice what I was doing. I looked over at the noisiest table. A bunch of kids were laughing and shouting and horsing around. Kenny Volst was standing up, leaning on the edge of the table, saying something to Mike Howardson. I took a drinking straw and balanced it on one end. Slip, I said to myself. I blew a puff of air, knocking over the straw. Kenny’s hands slipped and he fell face-first into his plate of food. Lunch today was what the cafeteria people called Hungarian goulash, but it was really just noodles with red sauce and chunks of mystery meat. It looked great on Kenny.

  Jan stared at Kenny, then back at me. “Was that you—?”

  “Yup.” I tried to turn everyone’s milk sour. But nothing happened. Only about half the things I tried actually worked. I did manage to make Cody Perez spill juice all over his pants. And I got Melissa Canutti to burp real loudly. Three times! She looked around like she couldn’t believe what had come out of her mouth. All her stuck-up friends got very embarrassed.

  “One favor,” Jan said after Melissa’s third ear-shattering belch.

  “What?”

  “Just don’t do anything like that at the other end. Okay?”

  “Jan! I’d never stoop so low.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I started laughing.

  Jan was laughing, too. Then her face lit up like she was suddenly struck with a great idea. “Why don’t you cast a spell on him,” she whispered, pointing past me.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Danny Gleason was at the table right behind me.

  “I couldn’t,” I whispered back.

  “Sure you could,” Jan said.

  Why not? Trying not to giggle or attract attention, I got out my notebook and drew a heart on a piece of paper. Then I tore the heart into tiny pieces and gathered them in my hand. I was pleased that I was getting so good at using the power.

  I turned and puffed the pieces of paper toward Danny.

  “Watch out. Coming through!”

  “Make way!”

  I jerked back as someone ran between me and Danny. Then I cringed as all my fragments of heart scattered across my two worst nightmares—Clem and Clyde Mellon.

  If ever I’d hoped to fail at something, now was the time. I held my breath—my magical, powerful, witchy breath.

  Twenty-two

  HOW DO YOU DO THAT?

  Clem and Clyde stopped running and stared at me as if they were watching a sunrise over a mountain lake or a rare flower blooming.

  “You sure are pretty,” Clem said.

  “Saw her first,” Clyde said. He pushed Clem.

  “Did not,” Clem said. “I saw her first.” He pushed back.

  Clyde took a swing at Clem. Clem ducked and tackled Clyde. They went flying like a sack full of melons, punching and shouting and hitting. Another hulk rumbled past me as May dived in, yelling, “Break it up, you two!” In an instant, she was hauling them apart, clutching each by an ear.

  “I’m not hungry anymore,” I said to Jan. Part of me felt guilty about pulling these stunts, but I had to admit, except for the part with Clem and Clyde, I was having fun. And then I felt guilty for enjoying myself.

  As I left the cafeteria, exhaustion dropped on me like a mountain of rocks. I staggered, then leaned against a wall.

  “What’s wrong?” Jan asked.

  “I’m tired,” I said. I felt better after a moment, but I realized it took a lot of energy to use my power. I held back from doing anything else for the rest of the school day, and I made sure I avoided Clem and Clyde whenever I walked through the halls.

  I went with Jan to her house after school. “So, what’s it like?” she asked when we got to her room. “I mean, how do you do it?”

  I’d been trying to figure it all out myself. “It’s sort of like imagining. I have to pretend that what I want to happen is already real. But it’s also like wishing.” I looked around for something to use as an example.

  “Sounds kind of like daydreaming,” Jan said.

  “Yeah. That’s not a bad description.” I went to Jan’s dresser and got a white handkerchief. I held it and imagined that it was green.

  “Wow,” Jan said as the handkerchief changed color. “Can you change it back?”

  “I don’t know.” I tried, but it didn’t work. “Hey,” I said as I thought of a good way to explain it. “Remember when my dad took us bowling?”

  “Yeah. How could I forget?” Jan grinned. “I kept throwing the ball into the next alley. What’s that got to do with this?”

  “Near the beginning, I threw the ball perfectly once. I knocked all the pins down. I thought—hey, this is easy. But as soon as I tried to do it again, I couldn’t.”

  “Yeah.” Jan snapped her fingers. “That happened to me with tennis. I hit a great shot, and as soon as I try to do it again, I can’t. But with your power, if you think about something the right way, you can do anything, right?”

  I shook my head. “Just small stuff. Big stuff is harder. I need to use something to help my mind focus.” I got up and faced the bed. I imagined the bed rising, and at the same time I lifted the handkerchief.

  “Hey!” Jan shouted as her bed started to rise.

  As the bed rose an inch from the floor, I could feel myself getting tired. I relaxed and the bed fell with a crash.

  A moment later, Jan’s phone rang. She picked it up and said, “Sorry.” Then she hung it up and told me, “My dad says to keep the noise down. He’s thinking about the universe and needs peace and quiet.”

/>   She was the only person I knew who got phone calls from her folks when they were all in the same house. “Sorry.” I dropped the handkerchief. “There’s more, but I haven’t really figured it all out. Words seem to have some kind of power. I mean, they can help me focus, but they seem to have more use than just that. I wish I was better with words.”

  We talked awhile longer; then I went back to my place and got started on my homework. I couldn’t resist trying to do it the easy way. I managed to make all the math answers appear, but that didn’t save me any work, since I had to check everything to make sure it was right. Then I tried to create an essay for English class. But when I read it, I wondered whether it had come from somewhere. What if it was a famous essay? I’d get in trouble for copying. In the end, I wrote my own essay.

  Nothing unusual happened until that evening when I walked into the living room. “Can you help me clean up?” Mom asked. She was in the middle of one of her assaults on dirt and disorder. The furniture had been moved out so she could get to the whole floor, and the windows were wide open, allowing a breeze to blow through the room.

  “Sure. What do you want me to do?”

  She pointed to the closet. “I spilled some dirt when I was repotting those plants. Could you get the electric broom and sweep it up? I need to go fold the laundry.”

  “Okay.” I went to the closet. The electric broom is like an upright vacuum. As I grabbed the handle, it tugged against my grip. I probably should have let go. But I held on.

  Twenty-three

  SWEEPING THE SKY

  The broom shot out of the closet, dragging me across the floor. “Hey!” I shouted.

  The front of the broom lifted into the air and headed toward the window. I tried to stop, but I just kept sliding along. Mom had done a nice job waxing the floors. By the time we reached the window, I was nearly off my feet.

  The broom flew outside, zooming up like a jet taking off from an airport. Then the front flipped back between my legs, and I was riding it.

  I tried to make it turn back to the house, but it didn’t pay any attention to me. This wasn’t a spell I’d cast—this was the power running wild. I wasn’t in control. We—the broom and I—climbed higher, soaring in an upward spiral.