The Memory Witch

by Wood, Heather Topham

  “Do you want me to drive you home?” Tanner asked sleepily.

  “No, it would only make it worse if she saw you. I’ll call you as soon as I can. I love you,” I said in a rush.

  “I’ll let you know our plans for tomorrow. Love you too.”

  I was unsure if my trepidation was visible, so I forced out an enthusiastic smile. “I can’t wait.”

  The lie was heavy on my tongue, but I gave him another kiss before hurrying out of the house. I grabbed my purse and scrolled through the calls and texts as I quickened my pace over to my car. The Ford was ten years old and always seemed to be on its last legs. Being hard up on cash encouraged my resourceful side. I taught myself through online auto training videos how to work on cars. I wasn’t an expert, but had learned enough to keep it running. Many of the man of the house duties had a tendency to fall on my shoulders.

  As I cranked the engine, I was shocked to only find a few missed texts and calls from Amber. My mother had been home from work for at least two hours. Why hadn’t she been trying to frantically reach me? It’s not like I was known for spending nights out and not checking in. I figured maybe she was stuck at work and I would luck out on my one and only transgression.

  I raced across town and made it home in record time. As I pulled into my spot, my heart sank. My mother’s car was parked in the driveway. I guessed this meant one of two things. Either she zoned out and didn’t notice the missing Ford before crashing or she was on the phone now with the police department asking to file a missing persons report.

  I attempted to creep through the front door noiselessly. If I could tiptoe upstairs, maybe my mom would be none the wiser. As I shut the door with care, I was startled to hear my mother call from behind me. “Quinn, is that you?”

  She didn’t sound angry, but that didn’t mean much. My mom’s moods were volatile. She could be fine one minute and sink into a deep depression the next. A calm exterior would sometimes accompany harsh and angry words. I had many of the same traits, so I didn’t blame her for her erratic moods. We understood each other probably better than anyone else in the world.

  I made the walk of shame into the living room and I expected instant recriminations. Instead, I was surprised by the appearance of an old woman sitting across from my mother on the flowered loveseat. My mother was still dressed in her scrubs and was holding a teacup. I noticed the tremor immediately in her hands as the tea sloshed over the sides. I sent her a questioning look, but she refused my attempts at eye contact. I turned my attention to the elderly woman instead.

  The unfamiliar woman sipped her tea calmly. She looked at me with unabashed interest and I immediately felt like I was being closely inspected. I guessed her age to be in the mid-seventies or perhaps even older. She had white hair that was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her frame was petite and it was accentuated more when compared to the height of my statuesque mother. The woman’s mouth was set in a tight line as her gray eyes turned away from me and looked at my mother. Expectedly, I waited for someone to speak.

  My mother cleared her throat and set her tea on the mahogany coffee table in front of her. She seemed upset, but I had a feeling it had nothing to do with my sleepover at Tanner’s house. “Quinn, will you sit with us?”

  “Of course,” I agreed. If it meant staying out of trouble, I would willingly perform a juggling act to appease my mother.

  I sat on the sofa next to my mom and volleyed my head between the two women. My mother spoke first. “Quinn, this is Stella Corey, she’s an…old friend of our family.”

  I jumped back as the woman cackled at my mother’s introduction. I gave her a startled look, but the woman addressed my mom instead. “Bridget, you haven’t told the girl anything?”

  My mother tucked a piece of her blond bob behind her ear. A brief look of guilt passed over her expression before she gave the woman a murderous look. “How the hell was I supposed to explain any of this? I was hoping it would never come to this.”

  “Meaning you were hoping I’d be dead by now,” Stella replied dryly before calmly taking another sip of her tea.

  My mother’s lack of response seemed to confirm this sentiment. I knew my jaw must have been on the floor over this exchange. Stella smiled at my shock. “I have to say, Bridget, I never imagined she would turn out so beautiful. When I met you, you were skin and bones and a tangled mess of blond hair.”

  “She’s smart too,” my mother admitted. She said pointedly to Stella, “She has a scholarship to Lehigh in the fall.”

  “Well, that’s not my fault, dear. You knew the terms when you came to me.” Stella waved her off dismissively.

  I was tired of the mystery surrounding the exchange and took my mother’s hand in mine. She looked regretful as she examined our intertwined fingers. “Mom, what’s going on?”

  “Where do I begin?” she asked rhetorically. She looked to Stella for help. The old woman simply shrugged her shoulders and leaned back further into the loveseat.

  My mother’s eyes were moist when she twisted back to face me. “Quinn, I’ve never told you the entire truth about your childhood.”

  My breath hitched. I wanted to take in this moment because I had a feeling my entire life was about to change. For years, I begged and bargained with my mother in order to convince her to tell me why she thought I lost my memory. It seemed surreal that it could actually be happening. Whenever I brought up my father or the reason behind my select amnesia, she said that we have to stop living in the past. He was dead and talking about it wouldn’t bring him back.

  My mother began, “I met Stella when you were eight years old. I had heard about her from a cousin of mine. It was believed by my family that Stella was from a line of very powerful witches.”

  “What?” I choked out. I waited for my mother to deliver the punch line. It was unnerving to see both Stella and my mom as somber and as still as statues.

  “At this time, I was desperate. Your father had just died and you seemed to retreat into yourself. You wouldn’t eat and you refused to speak to anyone. The nightmares were the worst. You would scream for hours at night and thrash like you were possessed. One morning, I woke up from your screams and found a chunk of your own bloody hair in your hands.” My mother swallowed audibly and I could tell this was difficult for her to talk about. To me, it didn’t seem real. It was as if she was talking about another Quinn and not the girl sitting next to her.

  “I had no idea what to do and I was so afraid I would lose you too. My cousin told me to contact Stella to see if she could help in some way.” The elderly woman was impassive as my mother told her story. As if they were talking about the weather and not witchcraft.

  My mother continued. “I met with Stella and told her everything about your…past. She agreed to perform an enchantment that would erase your memory. It would be as if your first eight years of life never existed. None of the pain or the horror of that year would haunt you.”

  Stella cut in to answer my unspoken question. “The enchantment wipes away everything in the person’s head to that point. The magic doesn’t heed to a specific timeframe.”

  “Stella came to our home while we still lived in New Jersey. She gave you a potion to drink that promised to give use the fresh start we desperately needed. When she named her price…I hesitated,” my mother mumbled, “but I thought it was best to accept the terms for the greater good.”

  “Not that I’m buying any of this, but what exactly were the terms?”

  My mom didn’t seem to hear me. “After you drank that potion, I never felt so blessed. It was like you were reborn. You turned back into an eight year old kid again. We moved and you made new friends and we both could forget about all of the awful things that had occurred.”

  Tears were falling freely down my mother’s cheeks. She said in an urgent whisper, “Quinn, you were dying. I just wanted my little girl back. I swear to you, I would’ve never made the deal otherwise.”

  “Your mother seems to lack the backbone t
o break the news to you, so I’m guessing the honor falls to me,” Stella said crisply. “When someone makes a deal with a witch, there must be a payment of some sort. It has to be something of great value—otherwise the spell upsets the balance of nature. You can’t just hand over a bundle of cash and expect that to be enough.

  “What I asked for was a year of your life,” Stella explained.

  “What?”

  “You are to come to my estate and live with me for one year. During that time, I plan to teach you everything I know about my craft,” Stella elaborated.

  I felt a whoosh of air leave the room. As my mother began to openly weep, I realized that the two of them were serious. My mother believed this woman was a witch and I’d be living with her. I couldn’t explain my memory loss, but I was certain it hadn’t resulted from drinking some sort of magical potion.

  “And if I refuse?” I prompted. One thing was certain, I wasn’t going anywhere with this woman. The next year of my life would feature me leaving Harveys Lake and starting my freshman year at Lehigh. I hadn’t stay up hours each night studying in order to spend a year with a deranged woman. When I got my degree, I was hoping it would mean an easier life for my mother and me.

  Stella gave my mother a sly smile as if she anticipated my response. “Well then your mother would be responsible for paying the debt.”

  “You would make her leave her home and job to train with you as a witch?” I asked with unmasked disbelief.

  “No, I want someone young that can carry on my work for years. I have no children and my sister and niece both died years ago. I have a nephew, but only female descendants can perform the craft. You probably don’t know this, but your family is from a long line of spellcasters dating back almost thousand years. They haven’t practiced since your great-grandmother passed away, but the power is still there. I’m certain you’ll have the skill to learn everything I know.”

  “So, what would my mom have to give you to pay the debt?”

  “The potent magic required for the spell means that it would have to be something of great value. Not to mention, it’s been ten years without the balance being restored. I would ask for her to give up probably her most precious thing next to you,” she murmured, “her own mind.” Stella smirked as she made the proclamation. Her advanced age was the only thing stopping me from smacking her across the face.

  My mother looked shaken, but rallied for my benefit. “I’ll do it, Quinn. You deserve so much more than I could ever give you. I want you to go to college and be happy,” she urged.

  “I doubt she’ll be able to go to college if she has to stick you in a home after I wipe your brain of any coherent thought,” Stella replied with a mirthless smile.

  “Mom, are we really going to listen to this nonsense for any longer?” My mom didn’t answer. Instead, she was gazing at Stella with a mixture of reverence and terror on her face. I don’t know if my mother had suddenly become delusional, but she seemed to actually believe Stella’s threat.

  Stella rose regally from the loveseat and walked towards me. I rose up as a way to let her know I would not back down to any challenge she decided to throw my way. “Your mother has seen my power first hand. And if you looked inside of yourself, you would see the same thing. Haven’t you ever wondered why you can’t remember?”

  “Of course I have. But there’s a logical explanation. If I had seen something so terrible, then I probably went into shock. If I underwent hypnosis or some other kind of therapy, I’d have my memory restored.” I tried to appear as confident as possible while staring her down. I tossed back my dark blond hair for good measure. Stella didn’t look impressed.

  “Why haven’t you then? I’m going to guess Bridget wasn’t too keen on the idea.” She had no problem getting into my face even though I had probably four inches on her and at least twenty-five pounds. Stella was barely five feet tall and weighed ninety pounds soaking wet. Yet, I could see her driving fear into the hearts of men three times her size.

  “No, she wasn’t,” I conceded. “Well, what’s the big secret? Why did I need my memory erased?”

  My mother stopped her weeping and gave me a sober look. “I’ll never tell you.” I felt my mouth open in shock. Before I could come up with a retort, my mother addressed Stella. “No matter what happens, she’s never to know.”

  Stella nodded. “The truth will never pass my lips.”

  “Mom…” I started.

  “No Quinn,” she cut me off firmly. “Don’t go down this road. I swear on your life that this is for the best. You can be happy. Knowing what happened when you were a kid will only ruin that.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. “I need some air.”

  I didn’t wait for them to reply. I darted through our back door. I kept running as I headed towards the woods behind our house. I was barreling towards the woods at a sprint. Tears mingled with sweat began to blur my vision as I distanced myself from our house. The forest, normally the canvas of my nightmares, had turned less threatening than my own house.

  What was going on? Nothing made sense anymore. Not only was some stranger telling me I had to live with her for a year, but also my mom again refused to be honest about my past. By now, I prepared myself mentally for the truth. I ran all sorts of scenarios through my head over the years. Since my dad was murdered that year, one of the possibilities I considered was maybe I witnessed it. However, my mother insisted that I was with her that day. A neighbor heard gunshots and called the police before we arrived home.

  My frantic thoughts made me clumsy. As I neared the edge of the woods, I tripped over a protruding tree root. I was able to break the fall with my hands, but not before my right foot twisted at an unnatural angle. The pain was immediate and shot through my leg. I cried out as I fell to the ground. I let out a string of curses as I crawled over to a fallen log. I sat on the log and examined my right ankle after removing my sock and sneaker. The pain and the swelling made me guess I had a nasty sprain.

  I hung my head down and tried to regain control over my emotions. I suddenly hated my close proximity to the woods. The nightmare last night wasn’t the first I’ve had about the terrors that dwelled within the forest. I wondered if the nightmare had been a warning. Perhaps it had foretold Stella’s arrival and her efforts to drag me into the darkness alongside her.

  I wished I had the insight to grab my phone before my hasty exit. I could call Tanner and he would come here and make everything okay again. Now, I had to figure out a way to hobble back to the house on my own. There was also the arduous task of dealing with Stella and my mother. Maybe if I remained calm, they would see reason.

  A branch snapped close by. I whirled towards the sound and saw Stella in my peripheral vision. Her steps were slow and measured and her gray eyes pierced through me as she walked up to the log. I wiped away my tears and could feel dirt smear across my face. I refused to let this self-proclaimed witch intimidate me.

  Stella knelt besides me without addressing me. She had a large satchel slung over her shoulder that she reached into. After exploring the satchel’s contents for a couple of minutes, she pulled out a small tincture. She used the dropper to place a few drops of the liquid in the palms of her hand. Rubbing her palms together, Stella then reached towards my leg. I jerked away.

  “Get away from me,” I growled.

  Stella didn’t reply. Instead, she placed an iron grip on my injured leg and ran her hands over my ankle. Her words were soft and I strained to hear the mutterings of what I presumed was an imbalanced old woman. My attention was quickly diverted as a warmth transferred from her hands into my ankle. I tried to draw away, but the old woman was much stronger than I ever expected. My ankle tingled and the heat grew to the point of discomfort. Stella stopped her chanting and removed her hands off of my ankle.

  I was aghast. “What the hell?” I demanded. Before I could protest any further, I looked down at my leg. The swelling was nonexistent and the skin color had returned to normal. I flexed my ankle and
felt none of the throbbing. I stared in wonder before standing up. I walked around for a minute and still felt nothing out of the ordinary. It was as if my fall had never happened.

  Stella lifted her body off of the ground and gave me a grim expression. “That was sweet balm. Along with the enchanted words, it helped hasten the healing of your ankle. Most of the spells work in that way. Herbs and chants are combined to give power to the magic.”

  I noticed her nose was bleeding. She wiped away the blood with the sleeve of her blue blouse. My gaze was fixated on the rust stain that rested on the sleeve once she pulled it away.

  “I paid the debt for you this time,” she said stiffly. “This isn’t how we normally will work though.”

  Stella didn’t seem to care that I was shell-shocked. My brain tried to explain away what had just happened, but there was no denying it. This woman was a witch who just fixed my ankle with the touch of her hands. The pain that had knocked the wind out of me minutes earlier was non-existent.

  “We leave tomorrow at sunset. My house is in Lima, New York. It will take us over three hours to arrive there. Pack only the essentials,” she instructed. “You won’t have much free time. I have a lot to cover in a year. You’ll leave your car here since I can’t have you taking off during your training.” Her tone was commanding and left no room for argument. I dumbly nodded without the energy to fight.

  She seemed pleased by my placidness. “Good. I figured you were sensible enough to not sacrifice your mom. A year of learning your birthright is a small price to pay.” I didn’t respond and she accepted my silence as acquiescence. “Until tomorrow then.”

  I watched her back as she maneuvered her way towards my house. My hands were trembling and I felt unsteady on my feet. My heart was heavy as the reality of the situation pushed its way into my consciousness. I was going to be sent to live with a witch for a year.

  Chapter Three