Miss Switch Online

by Barbara Brooks Wallace

  Well, as I’ve often said, a witch is a witch is a witch, and that’s the way they do things. Take my word for it!

  18

  Anything Is Possible

  I never thought I’d find myself sitting on top of the monkey bars in the Pepperdine Elementary School playground in the middle of the night. But there I was with Spook, Bathsheba—and Miss Switch! She had actually taken me up on my suggestion. I couldn’t believe it when that’s where she finally landed the broomstick. Spook was pretty thrilled about it, being back at her old school. But it certainly gave me a curious feeling. I mean, let’s face it, Miss Switch, Bathsheba, and Spook were not exactly Peatmouse, Banana, and Creampuff!

  “All right, then,” Miss Switch said as soon as we’d settled ourselves. “Where would you like me to begin?”

  “Well, I’d like to know what that stuff was that you had me put on Grodork,” I said.

  “Do you remember the night I sent you out to find me a toadstoolius enlargius instantium?” Miss Switch replied.

  I nodded. I wouldn’t forget that night for a while.

  “And do you remember,” Miss Switch continued, “there were two other specimens in your collection that I thought were rare finds, from which I was getting some strong vibrations?”

  “Witch’s vibes … I sure do remember that, Miss Switch,” I said. “Were those the toadstools you took with you to Witch’s Mountain tonight?”

  “The very ones!” replied Miss Switch. “I put them in an elixir, of course. They were, to be precise, of the genus toadstoolius potionus amorius perpetuum. My vibrations were right on target, as it turned out. Not knowing the details of Saturna’s bewitchment could have been disastrous. If she’d accompanied Grodork and Neptuna, I don’t know how we could have pulled off our stunt. As it was, I was absolutely certain that unlikely pair would never get back to Pepperdine.”

  “But, pardon me, Miss Switch,” I said, “why did you have to go to Witch’s Mountain to dump some of this toadstoolius potionus amorius perpetuum elixir on Grodork? Why couldn’t you have just done the same thing here at Pepperdine?”

  At this, Bathsheba’s tail bristled. “Bro-ow-owl! Are you dippy, or what?” she snorted.

  “No need to be rude, cat!” snapped Miss Switch. “That’s a perfectly understandable question. The first person the bewitchee sets their eyes on after the elixir has been applied is the one who is going to be the object of their affection. Here at Pepperdine, that object could have been just about anyone … including me. It probably would have been me unless I was unbelievably nimble. And I can’t even imagine what it would be like having that handsome basket case draped around my neck the rest of my life!”

  “Is this one of those rare bewitchments you mentioned at the museum that actually works with witches?” I asked.

  “Rupert,” said Miss Switch, “it works on just about anything that breathes! It’s a very sensitive bewitchment, and extraordinarily difficult, if not impossible, to undo.”

  “I think I can see now why you didn’t want any of that … that stuff to get on Spook and me,” I said. “Wouldn’t all the lovey-doveyness that happened to Grodork and Neptuna have happened to us? I mean, we’re only eleven, Miss Switch. Ugh!”

  “Ulch!” said Spook.

  “You’re quite right about what might have happened, Rupert, which is why I issued the warning. You did as you were told, and now you don’t have to worry about the subject for several years.”

  Never, as far as I was concerned. Spook, too, I suspected.

  “Do you think Saturna is going to try again?” I asked.

  Miss Switch’s eyes narrowed. Then they sent out a huge shower of sparks. Some of them went sailing across the Pepperdine playground, but several of them landed sizzling on the monkey bars. “She’d better not! But I don’t think you need to worry. I think she’ll figure out someday that I must have been around somewhere, and she’ll have to get up mighty early on a witch’s morning ever to try anything like that again. Now, any more questions?”

  “I do have one more,” I said. “What about computowitch.com? Do you think Saturna will keep on using it?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Miss Switch replied. “You know, I rather fancy it for myself. I certainly intend to see what I can do about taking it over!”

  After that, we had no more questions, so there was nothing left but to fly Spook home. It was pretty hard saying good-bye to her when we dropped her off at her window. It was for me, anyhow. I think it was for Miss Switch and Bathsheba as well, even though neither one would admit it. But Spook and I knew there might never be another chance for an adventure like the one we’d just had.

  “I know you have to go, Miss Switch,” I said as she dropped me off at my window. “But are you coming back to Pepperdine tomorrow?”

  “You don’t think I’d leave without telling my class, do you?” she snapped. Snapping was okay I knew she was never happy about leaving.

  But my spirits were pretty low at that moment. Mr. Dorking and Miss Tuna had flown off into the sunset. Or moonset, as it was in this case. All that was happening to me was my having to say good-bye to Spook that night, and probably to Miss Switch the next day.

  At least I still had my pets to talk to. But I knew that would end, too, when Miss Switch had gone. Or would it? This was the third time she’d been back and my pets had been able to talk to me. Wasn’t three times usually a charm? Maybe this time they’d keep right on talking even after she’d gone.

  The next morning on the monkey bars, I brought up the subject of Miss Blossom to my friends. “I wonder if she’s going to stay,” I said.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Peatmouse asked.

  I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess because nobody else has.”

  “I … I kind of hope she does,” Creampuff said, looking at us sideways to see how the rest of us would take this. “I’m kind of getting used to her.”

  “She’s a pretty good teacher,” said Banana. “And I kind of like her, too, I guess.”

  “But she still isn’t Miss Switch,” said Peatmouse.

  “Yeah,” we all agreed.

  “Hey!” Banana was running a finger over the top bar. “What are these black spots? They’ve never been here before.”

  “Look like burn marks to me,” Peatmouse said. “Somebody must have had a fire going someplace.”

  “Or maybe shooting off fireworks,” said Creampuff.

  “Maybe,” was all I said. After all, there was no point in offering further suggestions. But I was glad those burn marks were there. What few proofs I ever had of my adventures with Miss Switch were shaky at best, or seemed to disappear entirely.

  Of course, wouldn’t you know, as I looked out the windows of Room Twelve later that morning, there were the painters out painting the playground equipment, including the monkey bars, just as promised by our good old PTA. So much for that!

  As for the rest of the day, it went just like any other school day Except for the paint job, nothing else happened. But word quickly got around that Mr. Dorking had left, and so had Miss Tuna.

  “Maybe they eloped together, yuck, yuck, yuck!” someone said.

  “That’ll be the day!” said someone else.

  Naturally, I kept my mouth shut.

  What surprised me was that, other than the above comments and a few others along those lines, nobody seemed to care much, not even the girls. But at the end of the day, just as I expected, Miss Blossom announced that she, too, would be leaving. Then I was surprised again when the whole class moaned at the news. A couple of people even had to wipe their eyes. Well, I guess I really wasn’t that surprised, knowing who Miss Blossom really was.

  I kept hoping all day that she would have a special message for me. I finally decided that she just couldn’t find a way to get me aside, so I resolved to hang around until everyone had left after the final bell. But right after she made her announcement, she handed back our math tests, waved to us at the door, and walke
d out. Just like that! The class applauded, and I applauded right along with them even though I really felt let down.

  I was pretty glum as I walked home that day. Miss Blossom hadn’t even given me the chance to thank her for saving my skin. My mind was wandering, and I wasn’t paying much attention to my feet, so I went and tripped. Just what I needed—my school papers flying all over the sidewalk. Of course, my math test was with them. I hadn’t even bothered to look at my grade. I carelessly turned to the last page to see what it was. Then I shook my head and looked again.

  There was a big, red A plus at the bottom of the page, but there was something else, too. It was a message written in black ink in spidery handwriting.

  I read it. And read it again. Then I leaped up. Who knew when it would happen, but Miss Switch was letting me know that someday I’d be able to get a message from her! I couldn’t get home fast enough to report this to my pets!

  “Guess what?” I shouted as I burst into my room.

  But I was already too late. They all just looked at me with their bright, beady eyes and never said a word. It seemed my three-times-a-charm theory was a big bust. Had I just been imagining all along that they’d been talking to me?

  And what proofs did I have that any of the things that had happened to me had actually happened? As I said, the scorch marks on the monkey bars, courtesy of Miss Switch, were now gone—painted away by the PTA. As for the note on my arithmetic paper, that had started to disappear almost immediately, and by nightfall was gone. That figured. Miss Switch wouldn’t have wanted somebody casting their unauthorized eyes on a message like that. So I was left with nothing but a small scrape on my windowsill where her broomstick rubbed. Some proof!

  Now there was nobody I could even talk anything over with—travel by broomstick, a trip to Witch’s Mountain, how we actually had two witches and a warlock in residence at Pepperdine Elementary School at the very same time, or even who Miss Blossom really was. Oh, I could go on writing to Spook, but as I said before, it wasn’t the same as having her right there.

  When I crawled into bed that night, I just lay there with my eyes wide open staring at a shaft of moonlight coming through my window, thinking about Miss Switch arriving at that window in the very same moonlight, and wondering if it would ever happen again. I had no idea how much time had passed when I heard a rustling in Fred’s cage.

  Fred was usually a pretty sound sleeper. Once he’d started yawning and put himself to bed, I never even heard a peep or a flutter from his cage until morning, except for the couple of times he’d taken it upon himself to be my guardian angel. I never even bothered to close the door to his cage because the door to my own room was always closed at night. So what was going on now?

  The next thing I knew, Fred was flying from his cage. My room was pretty much flooded with moonlight, so I could see him fluttering across the room like a small, dark shadow.

  Just as he had done the night he and Guinevere, Hector, and Caruso had had their quarrel and ended up good friends, he flew over and perched on the side of Caruso’s bowl. Then he gave a soft cheep and flew over to land right in front of Hector’s and Guinevere’s cages. He stood there for a few moments, his head tilted, and cheeped again. After that, he fluttered up, circled around, and started right for me! I snapped my eyes shut. A moment later, I felt him land right on my blanket, hop over to my shoulder, and give me a tiny peck on my cheek! I waited until I’d heard him flutter away before I opened my eyes to see him hop back into his cage and settle himself down for the rest of the night.

  Once again Fred had come to my aid and made me realize what a lamebrain I’d been. Just because my pets could no longer talk to me didn’t mean I couldn’t talk to them, or that they wouldn’t understand what I said. I knew I could go right on talking to my pets, and muttering over my homework and my computer every night with Fred perched on my shoulder, taking it all in.

  Of course, I intended to go on looking for a toadstoolius spookus returnicum. I had concluded, however, that toadstools of the type I’d been dealing with via Miss Switch, or any toadstools, rarely appeared in the Pepperdine Elementary School playground in the daytime. Considering the generally unsavory nature of your run-of-the-mill toadstools, this was probably just as well. But I knew I’d have to steel myself to go toadstool hunting at midnight if I ever wanted to find anything useful. I wondered how Fred would feel about going along with me in my pocket. I’d have to ask him.

  And who knew what other interesting toadstool specimens I might find—toadstoolius billius swansonius spitballius terminatium, for example. Or a homework aid such as toadstoolius mathematicus incorrectus nomorum. The possibilities were endless. And assuming I could ever figure out which was which, I could become a veritable toadstool expert.

  And then I began to think of the question that Miss Switch had asked me, if I thought there was a remote possibility science might overtake witchcraft. Not a chance, I had replied. But who knew what genus of toadstools I might find that would bring the magic of science closer to the magic of witchcraft?

  Take, for instance, the toadstool that would allow you to elevate a broomstick and fly it—no engine, no propeller, no kidding—toadstoolius broomstickus nomotorus airborneum. Or how about a toadstool that would help put me in touch with Miss Switch anytime I wanted—toadstoolius computowitch dottus commus miss switchius websitum. Those two would certainly be witch’s aids that would make Miss Switch’s eyes pop!

  You might ask if I ever expected to actually find any of these things. Well, I had no idea. All I knew was that I intended to scour the Pepperdine Elementary School playground (even at midnight, if that’s what it took), and never give up trying. And I did know something else. It was that first thing in the morning, I, Rupert P Brown III, great and dedicated scientist, a firm believer that just about anything is possible, would have a long talk about all of this with my pets. Who else?