W.H.O. Files: Potions in the Pizza

by Mikey Brooks

  Emmy imagined herself wearing Odile’s beautiful costume, the color of onyx. She envisioned sparkling rhinestones and black shiny feathers trimming the neckline. Black really was the perfect color for a Halloween dance. She would look perfect. With a flourish, she spun again and finished with a graceful bow.

  The bedroom door flung open and she was instantly attacked by two figures clad in black. Emmy screamed as she fell over, and the two masked villains pointed their weapons at her. For a split second she was fooled. Then she recognized Ethan’s dark blue eyes. She slapped her ruler against the plastic swords, then pushed Ethan back. He fell on the bed, laughing.

  “You should have seen your face!”

  “You should try knocking, pea-brains!” She glared at the two bent over in laughter. Boys are so annoying! “Ninjas, really? What, were they all out of geek costumes at the mall?”

  “Don’t knock it, Em,” Ethan laughed. “These are the perfect costumes for breaking the witches.”

  “Your plan is to attack them dressed as ninjas? You didn’t actually think the skills of a ninja came with the costume, did you?” Emmy rolled her eyes and picked her book off the floor. She held it to her chest and let the tingling from it warm her. “I’m not finished practicing—so get out.”

  “Come on, Em,” Ethan whined. “You got to go to rehearsal and you’ve had time to dance. We have to talk about the witches.”

  “I’m bored talking about witches.”

  “Better look for a new family then,” Jax said with a smile.

  Emmy didn’t think he was funny. She harrumphed and plopped on the bed next to Ethan. “Fine. Talk.”

  “We found out what happened to Robbie Maser today,” Jax said. Emmy lifted her eyebrows. They had her attention. She wondered if they discovered something more than a discarded shoelace.

  Ethan sat up. “They turned him into a dishwasher.”

  “A dishwasher?” Emmy was disappointed. Part of her hoped for something supernatural, a black cat or bull frog, but a dishwasher? Maybe modern day witches preferred to turn children into kitchen appliances.

  “More like a robot or something,” Jax added. “They have him scrubbing all the pots and pans.”

  Emmy looked at the two boys like they had gone crazy. Emmy had accepted Ethan’s invention about the lunch ladies because at the time, it had seemed plausible. She hadn’t seen anything to back up what they were saying. For all she knew they were targeting the wrong ladies. “Are you sure the lunch ladies are witches? I mean, making Robbie scrub dishes doesn’t sound magical at all. And it’s not a bad thing. He deserves worse.”

  “Emmy, you don’t get it,” Ethan began. “Robbie is under some sort of spell or something. His eyes were glowing like some sort of zombie and he does whatever they tell him.”

  “His eyes glow? Guys, I don’t know if I believe the lunch ladies are anything. Seriously. They haven’t really done anything wrong. I think you both are just misunderstanding them.”

  “What?” Ethan and Jax shouted.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t accuse someone of witchcraft because they make a bully wash dishes or because they make great food. I know you two are all confused by the whole witch thing with our parents, but I don’t think the lunch ladies are witches.”

  “Em, we found their wands!” Ethan said. “They all wear them in their hair.”

  “Ethan, lots of girls wear things in their hair. Madison likes to put chopsticks in hers. It’s normal. Boys wouldn’t understand that.”

  “I thought you were on board with this?” Ethan said, sounding offended. “I thought you wanted to show Mom, Dad, and the Washingtons that we’re valuable to the family. I thought you wanted to prove they should have told us about the W.H.O.”

  “Ethan, I want to help, but not if we are accusing the wrong people.” Emmy set down her book, stood up, and leaned against the dresser. “You guys, we have to make sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the lunch ladies are, in fact, witches.”

  “I thought we already proved that,” Ethan said.

  “We are going on what you think you saw and heard,” Emmy said. “You can’t really be sure of anything.”

  “What about the flashing in the eyes, or what they did to Robbie, or—?”

  “Or the exploding cinnamon roll?” Jax added.

  Ethan clapped his hands. “Yeah, what about that? Come on, Em. Don’t give up on us because we can’t give you concrete evidence. You know witches exist. You saw all that in the lair. You know the kids at school have all started acting weird over the new lunch menu. And you know I wouldn’t make up what I saw. Besides, Jax saw Robbie’s eyes too—not just me. That’s two witnesses!”

  Emmy considered what Ethan said. The determined look in his eyes told her he believed every word. She couldn’t argue. If only there was a way to really identify these women as witches. Then I wouldn’t feel so bad about attacking helpless lunch ladies. Maybe it was the fact that she’d nearly brained Papa Washington—she didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. Jumping into things without thinking is what landed her in every other mess she got into. She had to be sure. Emmy thought about the computer in the lair. They had a whole database of witches in their basement.

  “I think I know how to double check the lunch ladies,” she said.

  A few minutes later, they were down in the lair logging on to the computer. It wasn’t hard to get permission to go to the house. They just told Mama J they needed clean clothes for school. Dinner would be done soon, so they had about half an hour to check the database.

  Ethan was acting annoyed. He claimed this was a waste of time because he’d already seen a mug shot of one of the lunch ladies, but Emmy wanted to be one hundred percent sure. Now that she’d gotten a better look at them at school she could be the final judge.

  “It would be easier to search if we had names,” Emmy said, clicking on the file.

  “Isn’t this file just for witches that have committed an offense?” Jax asked.

  Emmy shrugged. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “I’m just saying if we don’t find them in the database, it doesn’t mean they’re not witches. If this is their first offense you wouldn’t find a record.”

  “Hazel has a record,” Ethan said. “We’ve seen it before.”

  “Hazel? Really?” Emmy snorted. “Like witch hazel? Now that’s original”

  Emmy typed in the name Hazel and a whole page full of names opened. She clicked on one and a face of a beautiful woman with golden hair popped up. “Is that her?”

  “Nope,” the boys said together.

  “Okay.” Emmy backed out and clicked another name. Again it wasn’t her. The boys gave forced snickers and Emmy clicked on more names. With every new face the more discouraged the boys became. When she opened the seventh name, a pale-faced woman with vibrant red hair stared back at her.

  “That’s her!” Ethan shouted. “That’s Hazel!”

  “Are you sure?” Emmy asked. Both boys shouted back in the affirmative. Emmy read the caption below her name. “Hazel Mirabelle. Age: sixty-seven—wow! She looks good for a granny.”

  “The W.H.O. handbook says that most witches use their magic to retain a youthful complexion,” Jax shared.

  “That would explain why they all don’t look over twenty-five,” Emmy remarked. “I was about to think the witches knew the secret location of the fountain of youth. It says her last known coven is Severin. What’s a coven?”

  “It’s a group or family of witches,” Jax said. “Witches align themselves in different groups, but they all report to one master clan, the Hexe.”

  “How do you know all this stuff?” Emmy asked, a little taken aback.

  “We do other things besides dance, Emmy,” Ethan said, sounding a little spiteful. “Anyway, it’s all there in the W.H.O. handbook. It doesn’t give a whole lot of information on their practices and stuff, but it does say that witches live in covens, odd in number, an
d most target children because they are closest to the true source of magic.”

  “The true source of magic?” Emmy asked.

  “It’s belief, Em,” Ethan said.

  There’s that look again, like I’ve betrayed his trust. Emmy felt a little ashamed for doubting him.

  “I’m sorry for not trusting you,” she said. Ethan’s eyebrows lifted and she could tell her statement surprised him. She leaned over and gave him a hug. “Twinroos?”

  Ethan smiled. “Twinroos.”

  “So tell me more,” Emmy said, leaning back in the swivel chair. “What do you mean, belief?”

  Jax leaned forward and Emmy could tell both boys were excited to share what they’d learned. “You know how some kids believe in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, and the Easter Bunny?” Emmy nodded. “Well, it’s that belief that is the true source of magic. Kids have more of it than adults and that’s why witches target schools. They extract the magic from kids and use it for themselves.”

  “What about the kids who don’t believe in stuff like that?”

  “It’s not that simple,” Ethan said. “Belief isn’t something that can be taken away when someone tells you it doesn’t exist. Belief is somewhere between imagination and reality—it’s hope—”

  “Or faith,” Jax added. “The power that fuels people to believe one thing or another is the true source of magic.”

  “So everyone has magic within them?” Emmy thought it might be cool to have magic, but the consequences of using it would bring the W.H.O. after her.

  Ethan gave a slight shrug. “Everyone creates magic within themselves when they believe in something special, but only witches can harness it. It takes a lot of belief to fuel one witch.”

  “And all this is in the W.H.O. handbook?” Emmy asked.

  Ethan nodded. “Except it doesn’t go into a lot of details. Jax thinks there might be another book down here that could give more information.”

  Emmy stood up and glanced over the book shelves. There were so many books. The task of finding one on magic seemed daunting. “We don’t have time to go through all these. We need to get clothes and head back before Mama J suspects anything.”

  “I’ll grab a few and start with those,” Jax said, pulling a few books off the shelves. “If we can’t find any more information, we’ll sneak back tonight.”

  “Okay, ninja warriors, but you two need to be careful—don’t forget what happened last time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two: About to Give Up

  Emmy pulled the lid off the box and her jaw dropped. Odile’s costume was even more beautiful than she’d imagined. Silky black feathers adorned the neckline, along with twinkling black stones. The fabric smelled like Miss LeBeau’s perfume—a mixture of flowers and vanilla. Emmy pulled it close to her and breathed in the aroma. The soft satin fabric brushed against her cheeks.

  “What do you think?” Miss LeBeau asked. Emmy didn’t know how to explain. This was the best gift anyone had ever given her. Emmy pressed the costume to her, imagining how it would look on her.

  “It’s perfect!”

  “I thought you would like it.” Miss LeBeau pulled a small pink bag out of her desk. “I took the liberty of getting you some black slippers to match. I know you only have pink ones.”

  Emmy squealed in delight as Miss LeBeau lifted the black ballet slippers from the bag. Emmy held them against the dress and they were a perfect match. They even had small stones along the edge of the shoe. “I can’t wait to try these on!”

  “You will have to show some constraint, chérie. We can’t have you wearing a tutu for the rest of class. Let’s put the costume away and you can tell me how your routine is coming along.”

  Emmy reluctantly placed Odile’s costume back into the box and the shoes back into the bag. Miss LeBeau sat them behind her desk and smiled up at Emmy. She couldn’t wait for school to be over so she could finally wear her costume.

  “Have you been practicing hard?” Miss LeBeau asked, taking a sip from her water bottle.

  Emmy nodded. “I think I have it all down. I noticed that I was supposed to have a baton or something at the end. I’ve been using a ruler.”

  “That will do for now. What you will need is a hairstick. Like this.” Miss LeBeau pulled a nine inch rod of decorated wood from her hair. It was pointed at one end and on the other end a green jewel glimmered, held in place by ornate gold filigree.

  “It’s beautiful!”

  “Hairsticks are much like hair pins. They go back to ancient times. I will bring you one to wear in your hair tomorrow.”

  “Really?” Emmy was beaming. “You are so nice to me all the time. First the lessons, then the costume, now a beautiful hairstick. What can I do to repay you?”

  “There is one thing,” Miss LeBeau said, replacing the hairstick in her chestnut hair. “Might I bring a few friends to watch you dance tomorrow night? I promise they are very kind and would love to see a talent such as yours.”

  Emmy cringed a little. She had never performed a dance number in front of a live audience. Sure, she’d dreamed about it for years, but this would be her first performance. Her loyalty to Miss LeBeau outweighed her self-consciousness. After all, Miss LeBeau had given her so much. What was a little recital? “Of course.”

  “Oh, I was hoping you’d say yes. My friends will be so delighted. I’ll come find you close to nine o’clock. That should give you plenty of time to enjoy the party and play games with your friends.”

  Miss LeBeau gave Emmy a hug and the bell rang, announcing the end of recess. Emmy practically floated back to her desk, she was so excited about tomorrow night. She couldn’t wait to try on her new costume and show it to Hannah and the others. This is going to be the best Halloween ever!

  ***

  “This is going to be the worst Halloween ever,” Jax grumbled. “I mean, think about it. We won’t be able to get candy or anything.”

  “Treats? We’re about to break our very first witches, and you’re upset because you won’t get any treats?” Sometimes Ethan thought Jax’s brain was located in his stomach. This was a terrific opportunity for them. Who cares if we missed out on candy? They were going to be heroes by the end of the party. “We can always go trick or treating after we break the witches.”

  “Ah hum . . . we still have a few minutes left of class.”

  Ethan looked up into the scolding eyes of Mrs. Burton. Several of the kids at the front of the class turned to Ethan and Jax. He could practically feel his face turning red.

  “Thank you, Mr. Orion and Mr. Washington,” Mrs. Burton continued. “As I was saying, tomorrow night is the school’s annual Halloween party. We will have a few more parents supervising the event because of the ruckus some of the students caused last year. I hope that none of my class will be caught acting out. If you are planning on wearing a costume to school tomorrow, please make sure you are comfortable enough to learn in it.”

  “Aren’t we going to do anything fun?” asked the girl who sat in front of Ethan. Several students mumbled agreements.

  Mrs. Burton gave a curt smile and crossed her arms. “Isn’t learning fun enough?”

  The class sighed in response. The bell rang and Mrs. Burton shook her head. “I guess we’ll see what tomorrow brings. Have a good day. Please work on your spelling list tonight for your homework. We will have a review in the morning.”

  Ethan and Jax hopped up from their desks, grabbed their stuff, and ran out the door. Ethan looked around for Emmy but didn’t see her. He half wondered if she was planning on staying after school again, or if she’d finally devoted herself to their mission. They headed out the front doors and made for the pick-up area. Emmy was waiting for them, a large silver box in her arms and a pink bag atop it.

  “What’s that?” Ethan asked.

  Emmy beamed. “It’s my Halloween costume. I can’t wait to get home and try it on.”

  “I take it you’re not staying for dance rehearsal?�
�

  “Nope, Miss LeBeau cancelled it for today. She wants me to practice my routine in my costume. I have a performance tomorrow after the Halloween Party.”

  “Did you forget what we’re doing tomorrow?” Ethan asked, looking at his sister like she’d been replaced by a robot. “You can’t do a performance. You have to help us with the witches.”

  “Witches?” asked Hannah.

  Ethan cringed and turned around. Emmy’s friends were eyeing the box in her hands.

  “We saw Miss LeBeau give you the box,” Madison said.

  “Are you going to show us?” Abigail asked, a hint of pleading in her voice.

  “I want to keep you in suspense,” Emmy said with a giggle. Ethan rolled his eyes. His sister was so wishy-washy it was driving him bananas. Sometimes I just don’t get girls.

  “What are you two going as?” Hannah asked. Ethan knew she was asking both him and Jax but she only looked at him. He gave what was probably a stupid grin. Hannah had that effect on him sometimes.

  “Oh, they’re going as ninjas,” Emmy answered for them. “You three still going as Cleopatra?”

  “We found matching costumes at the mall,” Madison said, all giddy.

  “I’m going to wear my hair a little differently though,” Abigail added, “since I don’t have to wear a wig. My mom found an Egyptian hairstick. I can’t wait for you all to see it.”

  “Miss LeBeau is letting me borrow one of her hairsticks, too!” Emmy cooed.

  Ethan stepped away from the group of girls as they started yacking about all the different ways they could wear their hair. “Can you say boring?”

  “You’re not kidding. Girls are so weird,” Jax whispered.

  Mama J pulled up in her minivan and Emmy gave a dramatic goodbye to each of her friends. Ethan thought it was a little over done. It wasn’t as if they weren’t going to see each other tomorrow. He rolled his eyes at Emmy, but she didn’t notice. She was too fixated on her silver box.