Witch Clan: Matriarchs, John Stormm [great reads txt] 📗

at why he felt so at home with Emma and her strange grandson. Emma smiled to herself. Willard was not the only one who was feeling extraordinarily lucky about their new life partner. Willard, like herself, would rather treat a problem with a home remedy before tossing good money at some uppity doctor, and he knew more than a few of these. He held no allusions of being a witch himself, but he was very supportive of his new wife, if not downright proud of her. She sighed with contentment. Life was turning around nicely for her.

* * *

Halloween was only a week away. Aside from Johnny getting severely offended and downright belligerent with the Christian kids at school for depicting Halloween witches as green faced hags, the fall days were cool and pleasant. Emma was busy making him a cape and mask so that he could trick-or-treat dressed as the swashbuckling Zorro. She had a long talk with him about how people of different families celebrated holidays in different ways. This year she would take him out trick-or-treating like the other kids in his school, but she reminded him that this was not the clan's way of celebrating Halloween.

Johnny was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. Emma couldn't imagine what the effect would be like after he had consumed all those sweets. As the sun was beginning to set and the street lights came on, she escorted her little highwayman down the street for an evening of mooching sweets. Even beneath his broad brimmed black hat and mask, his face lit up with fascination at all the jack-o-lanterns, ghosts and ghouls on display on every porch and yard. Old Ian was his usual frugal and grumpy self as he appeared in his doorway dispensing apples to the little devils and hobgoblins on his porch. Emma waited back by the street with the other parents as Johnny went forward to demand his treat. Ian failed to recognize him and Johnny wouldn't dream of leaving without thanking him.

"Thanks, Uncle Scotty," he exclaimed, beaming through his mask.

"Wait a minute," Ian said in a shocked tone as recognition crossed his gaunt old face. "I know who you are. You're that masked highwayman they call Zorro. Aren't you? No doubt you are out this very night, to take from the rich and give to the poor. Well, I won't let you carve a 'Z' on my old carcass, so I'll just give you this shiny nickel to add to your loot. Now be off with you, masked man. I have no more to give." In spite of the theatrics, old Ian smiled and winked at the diminutive bandit leaving his porch.

At Geraldine’s house they found the elderly black woman was not at home, but out escorting her older grandchildren in their rounds of the neighborhood. Her daughter was at home and having a party for the younger siblings and passing out treats as Johnny came up to the door. Emma hung back on the sidewalk as Essie took Johnny into the house to use the bathroom and show him to the other kids. It was full dark now and older trick-or-treaters were beginning to make their appearance on the street. No doubt some soaped windows and toilet paper strewn trees would be the outcome of the tricks for treats tonight. Then a devil masked boy in a hooded sweatshirt spooked a youngster and made a grab for his candy bag. The youngster took off just in time to keep his treats.

Thinking the hijinx was over, she almost missed him. He was so quiet just standing there at the corner clutching his bag of candy, but the lad in the devil mask had spotted his next victim. For some reason, Johnny just stood there, sans his mask and hat as the larger boy pushed him down and took his bag of candy.

“You unhand my grandson right this minute,” she scolded as she charged up the walk at the fleeing miscreant. “Johnny, are you alright, honey?”

“Grandma?” called a familiar voice from the yard behind her.

She whirled to respond, and there was Johnny, still in his hat and mask and still clutching his bag of treasure. She spun again. There on the sidewalk was his identical twin with that familiar face in full view.

“I’m okay, Grandma,” Johnny in the mask spoke behind her. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” she stuttered, looking back and forth between them. Johnny’s double got up from the sidewalk with a haunted expression in his eyes as the masked Johnny came forward to see. They both stood there, neither taking their eyes off the other. The only difference being that one was fully costumed and the other had only a makeshift cape draped over a sweater and blue jeans. Masked Johnny set down his bag and plunged both hands into it and brought out two fistfuls of candy, which he deposited into the arms of his double. A big smile crossed the face of the haunted boy that never seemed to reach his eyes and he ran away into the darkness with his treasure. Masked Johnny returned with his bag and hugged her.

“Who was that boy?” she asked her grandson.

“Apple Banger,” Johnny said uncertainly. “He says he’s a duck made out of wood.”

“I didn’t hear either of you say anything, sweetie,” she coaxed him. “How did he tell you this strange thing?”

“You weren’t listening, Grandma,” he admonished, pointing to his forehead. As she was bending over him he reached up and pulled her forehead to his and Emma had the shock of her life. Since her eyes could not focus so close to his face, all she could see was a wooden mallard decoy, used by a duck hunter, sitting serenely on a quiet marsh pond. The vision was as clear as if she was looking from shore on an overcast autumn day.

“He’s a ‘decoy,’” Emma said aloud, breaking the contact. “He’s here to protect you.”

“Apple Banger.” Johnny nodded sagely.

“I think ‘doppelganger’ is the word you’re looking for,” Emma corrected.

“That sounds right,” he said. “You listen real good, Grandma.”

“And sometimes, wise old grandmothers--” she said smiling, tapping her temple with her index finger-- “learn marvelous things from their grandchildren.” She pictured herself getting a big hug from her grandson and Johnny immediately threw his arms around her and squeezed tightly.

“You talk good pixie too,” he said.

So this was the crones’ gift to her. That thought made her smile.

The Lioness And The Unicorn

Another year has passed since her daughter had moved to California with her new husband to start work at an aircraft company. The latest news Emma received was that Lorry was pregnant with a new baby. It was rough starting out in a new state. They were sharing a house with Dave's sister and her family. It had been decided that Johnny would be sent for when they purchased a house of their own and had gotten settled in. After all, it was the American dream. Johnny was content to be with her and she with him as it was her face he had grown up seeing the most of. He missed his mother, but he loved her all the more fiercely, and that was fine with her.

With Lorry and Dave in California, and family spread over New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio, the U.S. Mail was a regular part of Emma and Johnny's life. Lorry made it a special point to send pictures and hand print a letter just for Johnny to practice reading and the little guy made certain to include his own hand printed letter in with his Grandma's reply. Mary, her eldest, was becoming the focal point for the sisters who had relocated in the Cleveland area, but on those special holidays everyone made it a habit to return home at least to visit for a weekend. Evelyn had a promising ten year old daughter named Leona Mae, that she was considering fostering to her for the summer vacation for training in the family craft. Emma broke the news to five year old Johnny, who was excited to have a new playmate for the summer.

By the end of June, just before the July 4th weekend, Evelyn, her husband Ralph, and an imperious little blond bombshell made an impact on her front porch. With Evelyn being one of the more outspoken and adventurous of Emma's girls, she expected there might be a few issues that would have to be settled with her granddaughter. It started when Leona Mae demanded that Johnny give up his downstairs bedroom for the guest room upstairs. He knew full well that a guest room was meant for people who wouldn't be staying and was trying to figure why he was suddenly being replaced and cast out by his elder cousin
.
“I need this room so that I can be near Grandma as she trains me this summer,” she commanded her younger cousin.

“But Grandma trains me too,” he objected, nearly in tears.

“Don’t be silly,” Leona insisted. “You’re nothing but a devil-boy, without any parents who want you, while I am a witch of the blood. Now move your things upstairs.”

Emma was listening from the kitchen table as the children were attempting to establish their dominance in the next room, when Johnny bolted like a blur for the garden outside. It was time to set the rules straight.

“Evelyn, if I