Witch You Were Here Page 2

  Before me is a winding road. Now that’s fine, but it’s winding through meadows that have turned yellow from masses of daisies instead of the deep woods that lie between my house and Potomac! I let go of the steering wheel and rub my fists against my eyes. But when I glance again at the road, the meadows and the daisies are still there!

  I do the only thing I can think of. I put the car in reverse and back up. I watch to make sure I don’t run into the iron gate as I approach the archway. When I know I am straight, I give the car more gas.

  Suddenly the car strikes something and my head whiplashes as I hear Snowball’s cry in protest as her crate bounces against the back seat and falls to the floorboard.

  What, I think, glancing back through the review mirror. I don’t see anything. The gate is open. I can see gravestones on the other side of the archway. “What the...” I stop myself from saying anything bad. “I must have hit a big stone I didn’t see when I drove through the archway,” I say as I open the door.

  The moment my feet touch the smooth tarmac, I have a sense of belonging that I have never felt in my entire life. The feeling has a calming effect on me as I walk back to see what it is that I backed the car into. All I see is the back bumper lying on the road like plastic roadkill, waiting to be picked up and taken to the junkyard.

  “Good riddance!”

  I walk farther back, taking a step past the dead bumper.

  “Ouch!” I cry out as my face smashes into an invisible barrier. I back up holding my throbbing nose, not believing what just happened. When the pain subsides enough that I can see straight again, I walk forward with both hands out in front of me.

  Both fingers touch the invisible barrier and I jump back like I have stuck them into an electric outlet.

  “I must be sleeping. Last night was a dream and I’m still dreaming,” I tell myself. I pinch my arm. “Ouch!” I say and am suddenly near tears. If it’s a dream, then I am trapped in it and can’t wake up.

  I back up a little more and glance up at the archway. The Latin words are different on this side of the archway. ‘Uno modo tantum.’ I read the words and scramble for a translation.

  One way only!

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I shout. “This isn’t happening to me. Someone is playing a giant trick on me!”

  Snowball meows and my concern for her displaces my moment of rage.

  Okay, so what? I can’t drive back through the creepy, old graveyard, I think, walking back and getting into the car. I glance in the back. Snowball’s crate is still resting on the floorboard.

  “It’s alright. Just another old fender bender. Nothing new,” I say as I reach back and lift the crate back onto the seat. “Mommy will be more careful.”

  The words seem to comfort me more than Snowball, who makes a growling sound like she does when she’s upset at something I’ve done. I start the car. “So maybe this is a back road to town that I didn’t know exists,” I tell myself to keep from becoming hysterical as I look down the road that winds through the lovely meadows. “If you can’t go back, always go forward,” I tell myself as I step on the gas. The car lurches forward as though pulling out of the grip of unseen hands. I shove that thought to the back of my mind as I drive down the unfamiliar road, hoping against hope that I’ll take a curve and suddenly recognize where I am.

  Where is the tiny voice when I need it?

  “Okay, Snowball. Down the rabbit hole we go!”

  3

  The road doesn’t become familiar as I drive through the hills and meadows. I want to turn back, but to where? The cemetery? That didn’t work out so well on the first try. Finally, I see woods ahead instead of meadows. The sight gives me a little sense of relief as the tall trees look exactly like the ones near my house.

  I check my cell phone. No signal. So much for calling Charley and asking for directions home, I think as I enter the forest. I find its shadows welcoming after the open meadow, as I’m used to driving through deep woods.

  Maybe this is just some old back road that I didn’t know about, I think as I drive past tall spruce trees. Then I spot it! A big sign welcoming me to the town of Nightshade. The name stumps me. First, I have never heard of it, and second, who in their right mind would name a town after a poisonous plant?

  I suddenly don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh because I’ve finally reached a town where I can ask direction back to Potomac, or cry because I have the feeling that I’m entering the Twilight Zone and never will get back to Potomac.

  Which will it be? I think as I zoom past the welcoming sign and neither laugh nor cry.

  I’m all set to expect something creepy as I top a hill and see the town laid out below me alongside a meandering stream. Normal! It looks like any other small town in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. I feel a flood of relief as I spot a gas station. Even though my gas gage reads three-fourths full, I pull in between the pumps and the entrance of the station.

  A man in a green uniform walks out of the station carrying a greasy, red rag.

  “Need gas or oil, lady?” he asks approaching my window.

  Normal, completely normal, I think as I smile at him, noting his hairy arms and brown piercing eyes.

  “No, just directions. I seem to have gotten lost. Can you tell me how to get to Potomac?” I ask, fully expecting him to give me exact directions.

  Suddenly he gets a strange look in his eyes; like someone has said something unpleasant.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You can’t get there from here.”

  “What do you mean? Sure, I can. Just tell me which roads to take.”

  “You came through the cemetery?”

  “Yeah, and I tried to go back through but...well, I thought I might take another route,” I reply, not wanting to explain about the invisible barrier. I don’t want the poor man to suddenly pull out his cell phone and dial 911, telling the operator he’s got this escaped lunatic from some happy farm at his gas station.

  The man is shaking his head, causing his long black hair to bounce. “The cemetery is the only way back to the other side.” He stops and scratches his head like maybe he has fleas or something, because he doesn’t strike me as a deep thinker. “I’ve never known someone coming from the other side. I heard tell of it but you are the first person I’ve met who’s from there.”

  “You keep saying the other side. Like I’m from another country or something,” I say, getting more exasperated by the second.

  “Or something like that,” he agrees.

  “Please, just tell me which route I take out of town that will take me to Potomac. I’m really not asking too much from you, am I? If I am, maybe there’s a manager or someone else at the station I can speak with,” I say in the calmest, most pleasant voice I can muster.

  He bristles, and I do mean bristles, as I suddenly see the hair on the back of his neck standing up. But after all the strange things I’ve encountered in the past few hours, this manifestation doesn’t even faze me.

  “I am the owner.”

  “Alright. Sorry; just thought you were a grease monkey,” I say smiling.

  “Monkey? I hate monkeys!”

  “Ah, bad choice of words. But please, can you help me find my way back to Potomac?”

  “Go to the library and asks for Rachel. She might be able to help you. Now if you don’t mind, I’m busy,” the man says as he turns and walks away.

  “Where is the library?” I shout after him.

  He points toward downtown without looking back.

  “Okay, library it is,” I tell Snowball as I roll up my window. “Maybe Rachel has road maps,” I add as I pull back onto the road without glancing both ways.

  Suddenly a horn blows and I hear the sound of squealing brakes. I look to my right and a big blue Ford F-250 truck is just feet from the right side of my car. I expect the man driving to shout bimbo or something nastier, along with a raised finger, but he just waves and smiles at me, which causes me to feel even worse. I f
eel like an idiot as I smile back and pull out the rest of the way onto the road.

  “Snowball, the people seem rather pleasant here in Nightshade,” I say. “Oh look!” I shout. “A veterinarian. At least this side trip will not be a total waste. I’ll get you your shot while we’re here,” I add as I pull into the parking lot.

  I park beside a black Cadillac. Seeing the luxury car gives me a sense of normality. I mean how bad can the people be here if they drive Cadillacs?

  Inside the office, there’s a little old lady with a dog that she could easily enter into one of those ugliest dog contests. It’s a Chihuahua, without a tooth in its mouth and hairless as a baby’s bottom. The old lady glances up at me. She has purple eyes, which makes me think she must have been beautiful in spite of her wrinkled face when she was young.

  “I was,” the old woman says.

  “Sorry?” I say.

  “I was very beautiful when I was a young girl. All the men in Nightshade were sniffing around my door,” she said, smiling.

  She is as toothless as her little pooch.

  Oh God! I didn’t ask her the question. I only thought it! I suddenly realize as I glance back at the old woman who is smiling at me.

  I start doing numbers in my head. One times one is one. One times two is two. I am up to twelve times twelve when the door to the vet’s office opens and a handsome man walks into the waiting room. God, why couldn’t Charley look like him, I think, and then glance over at the old woman. She turns and smiles as she stands.

  “Mrs. Meers, it’s always nice to see you. And how is Poncho?”

  “He’s constipated, Dr. Ryan,” the old woman says as walks through the door he is holding open for her.

  “Bring Poncho in, and I’ll see if I can help,” the vet says. He glances over at me. “I’ll be with you in a little while, Miss...”

  “Maycomber, Suzy Maycomber,” I say, taking in his green eyes that seem to pull me like a magnet.

  “Well, I must say, Snowball, the men here in Nightshade are very handsome,” I tell her, but she is pouting, having figured out from the smell of medicines that we are at the vet’s. “Now, I am sure the nice man will be gentle with you.”

  Suddenly, the loud howling scream coming from the next room causes Snowball to hiss and spit at me.

  “I’m sure he’s not going to be that rough with you, Snowball,” I try to reassure her as the howling gets worse and worse. “Okay, maybe I’ll wait until we get back to Potomac to get your shot,” I say, standing up and grabbing Snowball’s carrier.

  I stop when I hear the door to the vet’s office opening.

  “Thank you, Dr. Ryan,” the little old lady says. “Poncho, tell the good doctor thank you.”

  Suddenly, the hairless Chihuahua lets out the loudest fart I have ever heard.

  “See you next time, Mrs. Meers,” the vet says, not bothered by the dog’s rude behavior.

  “Your turn, Miss Maycomber. How can I help?” he asks, smiling as he holds the door to his office open for me.

  “Snowball, my cat, needs her rabies shot.”

  He nods. “Please go in and be seated. I’ll just be a moment.”

  Snowball hisses but I can’t resist the handsome man’s invitation. “Oh, Snowball, it’s just a little shot,” I say as I enter the room. It smells like a dog’s lair. Snowball hisses again. “Hey, your litter box smells, too,” I remind her as I sit down in a plastic chair facing the metal examining table. The walls are covered with pictures of wolves; beautiful wolves running through the woods, even meadows like the ones I drove through on my way from the cemetery.

  Snowball hisses again as she looks at the pictures through the front of the carrier.

  “All vets can’t be cat lovers,” I say in the man’s defense.

  “Is someone out there?” I hear a young boy’s voice call out.

  “Yes, there is. What’s wrong?” I answer.

  “Please let me out. He’s got me locked in a room. I want to go home and see my mother,” the voice calls out.

  I glance down at Snowball. “Did you hear him, too? I’m not imagining hearing a boy calling out, am I?” I ask, remembering the tiny voice and all the trouble it has gotten me into.

  Of course, Snowball just licks her paw, ignoring my question.

  “No, lady, I’m real. Please let me out. I just want to go home,” the boy says in the sweetest voice possible.

  Against my better judgment and still suspecting I am imagining the voice, I walk over to the door at the other end of the room. I open it and find a long hall with doors on each side with barred windows.

  “I’m in the third room on your left,” the boy calls out. “Please hurry. I don’t feel good. I just want to go home.”

  I glance back at Snowball, who is still licking her paw, and then make my decision. I step into the hall, making sure the door to the vet’s office remains open, and walk slowly. I glance at the first two rooms as I pass them. Both are empty. Through the third barred window, I see a young, dark-haired boy sitting on the edge of a metal bunk. His big brown eyes remind me of the owner of the gas station. In fact, the little boy looks like a small duplicate of him.

  “It’s a deadbolt lock; you just turn it,” the boy says and flashes an angelic smile that melts my heart.

  “Yes, yes, just a moment!” I say as I glance at the deadbolt lock. What is wrong with the vet? Is he some kind of psychopathic child molester? I don’t care if he attacks me; I’ve got to let the boy out, I think as I reach to turn the deadbolt.

  “Stop!” the vet shouts as he grabs my hand. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you read?” he snaps at me, pointing to the sign above the door with his free hand.

  With my heart beating rapidly and knowing he is going to bash my head in at any moment, I look above the door.

  Caution First Transformation!

  Do Not Open!

  “Do I need to read it for you?” the vet asks, letting go of my hand.

  “What does it mean? You can’t imprison a little boy!” I say glancing through the window again.

  I scream! A wolf’s jaws snap only inches from the window’s bars!

  “Oh my God! You have put the child in the room with a wolf! What kind of vet are you? Oh, my God. Go in and help him before the wolf tears him apart!” I scream hysterically.

  The vet looks at me like I’m some alien from outer space.

  “I’ve never seen you here before. Where are you from?”

  “Potomac, which I am trying to get back to, but no one will tell me which road to take!”

  “You are from the other side.”

  “If you mean the other side of that spooky, old cemetery, yes! I’m from the other side.”

  The vet grabs my wrist and pulls me back into his office.

  “I should have never let you in my office!”

  “Well, excuse me! I’ll just run along and go tell the sheriff of this little jerkwater town that you have a little boy locked in a room with a wolf!” I say reaching for Snowball’s carrier.

  “Sheriff Dudley brought Ray in this morning. He knows he’s here. And there is no wolf in there with Ray. Ray is the wolf!” The vet shakes his head. “You did read the sign over the door, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t understand it. What is First Transformation?” I ask but really don’t want to hear the answer because my mind is conjuring up an explanation I’m not ready to accept.

  Ignoring my question, the vet lifts Snowball’s carrier onto the examining table and opens the door. Snowballs hisses as he reaches in, and to my astonishment, the vet growls at her, which silences Snowball immediately as he places her on the examining table.

  “Did you just growl at my cat?” I ask, not believing what I had heard.

  “I just told her I wasn’t going to hurt her unless she scratches me,” the vet says as he reaches for a syringe with his free hand. He glances at me. “You want to hold her?”

  Snowball is looking like she’s in mortal fear of the vet.
She is stiff as a board when I grab hold of her. I can feel her little heart racing. “Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here in a minute,” I say. I want to get away from this lunatic vet, but I don’t dare as I’m as frightened of him as Snowball.

  He injects the medicine.

  “You can put her back into her carrier,” he directs me.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “You can repay me by leaving here and going directly to the library and talking to Rachel, the librarian.”

  “You are the second person that’s told me that. The owner of the gas station said the same thing.”

  “Oh, you mean Ray’s father. Well, he gave you good advice. I guess you don’t take direction well, do you?”

  “The owner of the gas station is the little boy’s father? Does he know...”

  “Suzy,” the vet says. “Please do me and everyone else in Nightshade a favor and go speak with Rachel. She is qualified to deal with people from the other side. You have a lot of questions, I know. But I’m not sure you are ready to hear the answers from me. Rachel knows how to explain things in a way that’s not so shocking.”

  “Okay, but I still think I’m having this crazy dream that I can’t wake up from so I’m not really taking any of this seriously. I just hope I can remember it all so I can have a big laugh when I wake up,” I say, picking up Snowball’s carrier. “I mean if I thought for one moment that the little boy in that room suddenly turned into a werewolf I would be totally freaked.”

  The vet smiles as I walk out of his office.

  “Okay, Snowball, stop pouting about him growling at you. This is nothing but a dream and both you and I are home asleep in our bed. In the morning, we’ll wake up and not remember a thing about this crazy town of Nightshade,” I say as I put Snowball in the back seat. The broomstick is still lying in the seat. “Well, I must admit that this dream is more consistent than any other dream I have ever had,” I add as I start the car. “Since this is just a dream, I see no reason why we shouldn’t go over to the library and speak to this Rachel. Maybe that will wake us up.”