Kitewell

by Fallton Havenstonne

  Contents

  PART ONE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  PART TWO

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Afterword

  Copyright © 2020 by Fallton Havenstonne

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission from the author except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  falltonhavenstonne.com

  ISBN: 9798635707166 (Paperback)

  Cover & book design by Robin Vuchnich mycustombookcover.com

  PART ONE

  Chapter 1

  “Hurry up! She’s waiting for us!” Ariel called.

  Beanie moved at a brisk pace, following Ariel to the front door of Mrs. Kantor’s house. Beanie dragged her feet to the welcome mat, which read in thin wiry cursive letters: Welcome.

  Ariel straightened her evergreen-colored dress and curled her light brown hair behind her ears. Her backpack was light, almost featherweight, whereas Beanie struggled with her bulky backpack, which was jam-packed with books from the school library.

  They had hiked for ten minutes through the blistering heat from their bus stop to see Mrs. Kantor. They were early, thanks to Ariel’s hurrying to get there before 4:30 p.m.

  “What’s so special about Mrs. Kantor?” Beanie asked.

  Ariel knocked on the door. “Just wait and see.”

  Beanie wiped the sweat from her brow. “It’s so hot outside.”

  “It’s always hot in May,” Ariel said.

  “I’m so thirsty,” Beanie said. “I didn’t bring my water bottle with me.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll serve us drinks. Oh, do you smell that?”

  Beanie sniffed. “Yeah. It smells like—”

  “Cookies!” Ariel beamed.

  The door opened and Mrs. Kantor welcomed them inside with a smile that went from ear to ear. She had long silvery hair and wore a lavender-colored blouse with a sapphire pendant around her neck. She had deep furrows in her brows, and she appeared to be in her sixties.

  A gust of air swept over the girls like they had just entered a bakery. The smell of warm, delicious cookies drew them inside. Mrs. Kantor showed them to the living room, which was decorated with antiques and delicate ornaments. The girls sat on a long Victorian-style couch, which had a scarlet-colored velvet fabric.

  Mrs. Kantor asked, “What would you girls like to drink?”

  “Water,” Beanie said.

  Mrs. Kantor curled her lip. “Water, please.”

  “Please,” Beanie said with a gulp.

  “And you?” Mrs. Kantor said to Ariel.

  “I’d like some milk, please.”

  “Great. I’ll be right back with your drinks girls.”

  As soon as Mrs. Kantor was gone, Beanie said, “I want to go home. It feels strange here.”

  “No, stay,” Ariel said. “She’s going to show us magic.”

  “Magic?” Beanie guffawed. “I told you on the bus that magic’s not real. I thought we were just coming for snacks? I don’t want to see a bunch of magic tricks.”

  “No. It’s real magic,” Ariel said adamantly. “It’s not pretend. It’s real.”

  “You’re wrong,” Beanie said. “Magic looks real when you don’t understand how it works. But there’s a logical explanation behind every magic trick. Besides, everyone knows that magic is just an illusion. Magic deceives the senses. It tricks our brain into believing things that aren’t real. Magicians are so clever that you don’t even see how they do it.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” Ariel said in frustration. “Mrs. Kantor’s magic is real!”

  Beanie rolled her eyes. “Uh, huh. We’ll see.”

  Mrs. Kantor carried a tray that had a glass of water, a glass of milk, and a bowl of cookies. She set the tray on the coffee table with a clink.

  “So you don’t believe in magic?” Mrs. Kantor said.

  Beanie gasped, “You heard me?”

  “I hear everything in this house,” Mrs. Kantor said as if she could read her mind.

  “Magic is just an illusion,” Beanie said firmly. “You can’t fool me.”

  “You’re wrong, dear. Magic is all around us,” Mrs. Kantor said sagely. “It’s part of the very fabric of reality.”

  “That’s just your fancy way of saying that anything that can’t be explained has to be magic.”

  Mrs. Kantor cackled. “I bet I can convince you. Why don’t you have some cookies and I’ll show you some magic afterward?”

  “Yes, cookies!” Ariel beamed.

  “Fine,” Beanie said, raising her chin smugly.

  As soon as Mrs. Kantor was gone, the girls started on the dozen or so chocolate chip cookies in the bowl. The cookies were soft and warm, and each one melted in their mouths as soon as they bit into them.

  It was almost 4:30 p.m., and their parents didn’t expect them to be home until 5:30 p.m. Ariel had told her mother that she was going to Mrs. Kantor’s house after school, and Beanie had told her mother the same thing, so there was no hurry to leave. Besides, Mrs. Kantor had arrived in Kitewell about five months ago, and she had already established a good rapport with the community.

  Mrs. Kantor came off the bus with a couple of bags of luggage when she arrived in Kitewell, Tennessee. She moved into an abandoned house on Lilac Drive, and people wondered how she’d settle in despite the expensive repair and remodeling it needed.

  But in a few short weeks, she got the house looking new—Victorian new. No one knew how, since she hadn’t contracted any carpenters, and they didn’t even know how she polished and repaired all the old and dusty furniture inside it.

  Soon after she arrived, she got a job at the pawn and jewelry shop on Main Street, assisting the owner with repairing broken watches, jewelry, and trinkets. Everyone in town loved her for her fabulous work and quick turnaround time. Sometimes Mr. Kantor did a job inexpensively on the side.

  “How are the cookies?” Mrs. Kantor said as she returned to the living room.

  “Super,” Ariel said. She sipped her glass of milk. She had cookie crumbs all over her lips, and her fingers were covered in melted chocolate.

  “They’re good, I guess,” Beanie said, though she would never admit that they were better than her mother’s home-baked cookies.

  “Please eat them all,” Mrs. Kantor said.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Kantor,” Ariel said. “You’re the best.�
��

  “Thank you, dear.”

  Beanie furrowed her eyebrows, glowering at Mrs. Kantor. Something didn’t sit right with her about Mrs. Kantor. Beanie thought she was too nice—way too nice. She suspected that Mrs. Kantor had something else in store for them.

  The cuckoo clock chimed.

  “Why does it do that?” Ariel asked.

  “Because it’s half-past four,” Mrs. Kantor said.

  “Half-past four?” Ariel said.

  “That means it’s thirty minutes past four o’clock, stupid,” Beanie said.

  Mrs. Kantor’s expression turned sour. “It’s not nice to call your friends mean names. From now on, no one calls anyone mean names. Agreed?”

  “Uh-huh,” Beanie responded.

  “Beanie?” Mrs. Kantor said.

  “I was just joking.” Beanie blushed.

  “It’s not a funny joke.”

  Beanie shrugged. She ate another cookie and did not heed Mrs. Kantor any attention, who gazed at her sternly—waiting for a response. The girls ate in awkward silence. Suddenly, Mrs. Kantor broke out laughing. The girls exchanged baffled glances.

  “What’s so funny?” Beanie said.

  “I have the perfect story to tell you girls. Wait until you hear it,” Mrs. Kantor said.

  She sat down in a rocking chair.

  “Yes, a story!” Ariel cheered.

  “What story?” Beanie said.

  “A ghost story,” Mrs. Kantor said.

  “I want to hear. I want to hear,” Ariel repeated. “Is it a ghost story like the one you told me before?”

  “It’s similar,” Mrs. Kantor said. “You might’ve heard it. It takes place in Kitewell.”

  “Is it a scary story?” Beanie asked.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Kantor said.

  “Because I’m not afraid of anything. You can’t scare me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you consider yourself a brave girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you consider yourself a courageous girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re not afraid of anything?”

  “Yes. I just told you that.”

  Mrs. Kantor nodded. “We could use more girls like you on the team,” she said under her breath.

  “On the team?” Beanie asked confusedly.

  “Never mind. All right. Let’s make a bet. If I scare you, then you must promise to never say anything mean again. Okay? Let’s shake on it.”

  Mrs. Kantor held out her hand. Beanie didn’t return the gesture.

  “Afraid you’ll lose?” Mrs. Kantor said.

  “What’s in it for me?” Beanie said.

  “Clever girl,” Mrs. Kantor said with a nod. “Never make a bet without knowing what you’re getting.” She clasped her hands together.

  “You can’t trick me. I’m smart. Mrs. Somerset said so,” Beanie said. “She says I’m so smart that I can skip a grade next year.”

  “Impressive,” Mrs. Kantor said in a high voice. “I admire an intelligent girl. Why don’t we shake on it, and then I’ll tell you what you’ll get?”

  “No! I’m not shaking your hand until you tell me.”

  “Okay. How about a doll? Do you like dolls?”

  “I already have dolls,” Beanie answered.

  “What do you like?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  Mrs. Kantor began rocking in her chair rhythmically. “How about a magic wand?”

  “A magic wand? But there’s no such thing,” Beanie said.

  “Oh, how wrong you are, dear. Magic exists, but few people know it. And if you know how to use a magic wand, you can perform spells and hexes and anything else you desire. Remember the time I turned frogs into doves, Ariel?”

  “Yes! That was amazing!” Ariel said.

  “See. Even your friend knows,” Mrs. Kantor said. “That wasn’t a magic trick. It was the real thing.”

  “Really?” Beanie said.

  “Really. And there’s a lot more you can do with a wand. I can teach you, Beanie. You can be my protégée. I’ve been searching for one for years. So what do you say? Is it a deal?”

  “No. This is a trick,” Beanie said resolutely.

  “What is there to lose?” Mrs. Kantor said.

  Mrs. Kantor reached behind her back and pulled out a dark wooden wand. To Beanie, it looked like a baton that conductors used.

  “I’ll give this to you if I can’t scare you,” Mrs. Kantor said. “That is, if you’re a brave, courageous girl like you say you are. I’ll teach you how to use it. I’ll even show you—”

  “That’s just a music stick,” Beanie said.

  Mrs. Kantor laughed. “It’s not a music stick, dear. It’s imbued with magical qualities. In the right hands, it can reanimate life, summon creatures, and control the very essence of nature.”

  “Prove it,” Beanie said.

  “Are you sure you want me to use it? It’s very powerful.”

  “Yes,” Beanie said slyly. “Prove it.”

  “I want to see!” Ariel said gleefully. “Just like before …”

  “As you wish, girls.”

  Mrs. Kantor walked over to the windows and drew the curtains closed, one by one. The room got darker. The girls could barely see inside the living room. Mrs. Kantor was merely a silhouette.

  She returned to her rocking chair and then aimed the wand at the fireplace. The tip of the wand glowed red and she whispered in an arcane language. A flame kindled in the fireplace. It speedily grew into a hot blazing orb. It hovered in the air and gave off light and heat. Ariel watched in awe, gaping at the orb, drawn to the light. Beanie frowned, however.

  “Now are you convinced?” Mrs. Kantor said.

  “That’s just a trick,” Beanie said.

  “That isn’t a trick, Beanie.”

  “It looks real to me,” Ariel said with conviction.

  “It’s not real,” Beanie said stubbornly. “It looks like real magic, but there’s a logical explanation behind it.”

  Mrs. Kantor said, “Magic can be logical, dear. Here’s how it works. I cast a spell, and it produces the effect that I wanted. It’s not deception. It’s an art.”

  “No. You’re lying,” Beanie said.

  “Then, what is your explanation?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe there’s a lamp in the room somewhere and you pretended to cast light from your wand.”

  Mrs. Kantor laughed. “You’re a very imaginative girl, Beanie. I applaud your wit.”

  “Show us more magic!” Ariel exclaimed. “Show us more!”

  “Okay, one more spell. Are you girls ready?”

  “It better not be another trick,” Beanie said irately.

  Mrs. Kantor snickered before she aimed the wand at the bowl of cookies. There were five left inside of it. She whispered an incantation as the tip of her wand glowed red again. Suddenly, the bowl began to jiggle. Ariel clapped her mouth closed. Her eyes nearly bulged out. Beanie felt goosebumps across her skin as she gaped in awe.

  As the bowl wobbled, the girls scooted back along the carpet. The tip of the wand glowed bright red like a flame. The cookies crumbled like sand and then turned dark and moist like soil. Four stems sprouted from the crumbs and blossomed into sun orange tulips. The girls smelled the aromatic fragrance and drew near the table. More stems sprouted from the bowl—now a garden pot. Flowers such as hollyhocks, canterbury bells, poppies—just to name a few—blossomed from the bowl.

  “And for the finale,” Mrs. Kantor said.

  Ariel’s glass of milk rattled and spilled on the table as if blown by the wind, washing over the cookie crumbs that the girls left on it. The mushy crumbs started to wriggle as if larva stirred from within it. Indeed, it was larva,
and they grew wings, then legs. They batted their wings with difficulty at first, but soon, they flew up and found their way to the flowers. The girls watched in amazement as the bumblebees fed on the nectar. There was at least a dozen of them that gorged.

  “That’s amazing!” Ariel cheered.

  “Believe me now?” Mrs. Kantor said.

  Beanie remained silent.

  “That’s what I thought,” Mrs. Kantor said triumphantly.

  “Can you show us more spells?” Ariel asked.

  Mrs. Kantor glanced at the cuckoo clock. “Why don’t you girls stop by tomorrow? I actually have a letter to write to my brother.”

  “You have a brother?” Ariel said.

  “Yes. His name is Tim. He’s a very powerful wizard. He’s busy on a business trip,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Is he going to come and visit?” Ariel said.

  “One day, he might. But it depends on how things go on his trip.”

  “What kind of business trip is it?” Beanie said curiously.

  Mrs. Kantor quickly changed the subject. “I should be free around the same time tomorrow.”

  “And you’ll tell us the ghost story?” Ariel said.

  Mrs. Kantor nodded. “I’ve been saving that story for a very special occasion.” She clasped her sapphire pendant. “Besides, I have to take this pot out to the garden and plant it.”

  Mrs. Kantor picked up the bowl and walked outside. The girls followed her as she set the bowl down next to the porch steps. Mrs. Kantor went and sat on the swinging bench, and then closed her eyes, enjoying the soft breeze. She opened her eyes slowly and looked at the girls. “So what do you girls say about 4:15 p.m. tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I’ll be here!” Ariel said.

  “And Beanie?”

  Beanie frowned. “Just remember I get your wand if you don’t scare me.”

  “And you must promise to never say a mean thing again. Deal?” Mrs. Kantor outstretched her hand.

  Beanie hesitated before she gave her a limp handshake.

  “What do I get?” Ariel said anxiously. “There’s only one wand. What do I get?”

  “How about this,” Mrs. Kantor said, holding out the sapphire pendant from her neck.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a spirit-gem.”

  “A spirit-gem?”

  Mrs. Kantor giggled. “I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow. So come here at the same time. I’ll have a fresh batch of cookies ready, so don’t be late.”