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

in a few minutes,” he called out. “I’ve got an errand to run.” He grabbed his hat and started walking for the corner.

“Amazing,” Leona said, giggling. “Just like magick, how that worked.”

“It’s so much more than that,” she told her granddaughter. “Not only did the letter get mailed. He feels good about himself as a man, and his sweet tooth and his sunny disposition are going to combine to buy us all a treat for tonight while he’s down on the corner.”

“What man has a chance against the wiles of a wise woman?” Leona remarked.

“Say that quietly, dear,” Emma informed, “they like to think it’s their world, we live in. We mustn‘t spoil it for them.” The witches cackled gleefully, rubbing their hands together in anticipation of a fine snack. Willard was not a man to let them down.

A Bad Boy's Virtues

Johnny was beginning to think the faeries of California were an unfriendly lot to humans and Sidhe alike. The bright, rainbow hued, winged one that darted about his mother's flowers would not stop so much as a moment to speak to him. It's wings buzzed like a large insect, but it looked like a beautiful little bird... but no bird he ever knew flew like that. It had to be a faery creature. Plant life here was as pretty as it was hostile and covered in all manner of thorns, needles and prickers. The tarantula that climbed up the patio arbor was the largest spider he had ever seen in this world. Not as big as She-who-waits, but this place was sunny and bright and not the shadowy darkness of Annwn. It certainly wasn't the sweet, fae brightness of Gwynvyd either. Just what was this place, anyway?

He had been here for several weeks now. He turned seven years old at the end of July and would be starting second grade at a new school in September. A lot of things took a little getting used to. His new baby sister didn’t speak much faery, but she loved her big brother and he could play with her for hours and neither of them got bored. Dave was now called “Daddy,” and that seemed good. He recalled the happy families on television like in “Father Knows Best.” Now he would be a part of a fine American family and they could all do fun things together, and Daddy could teach them wisdom. He tried to convince himself that life was good, but something prevented him from really feeling it.

He missed Grandma and Grandpa Willard, but now he had Mommy and Daddy and Linda and Auntie Ginna and Uncle Lynn. He even had Sunday school, and they would sing and learn the Bible and everything. Jesus was a wonderful person who loved all the different children of the world, and they said that Jesus even loved him too. Jesus could do the very best magick and heal people and even put them back in their bodies and raise them from the dead. But he wasn't a witch because witches were bad, at least that was what everyone said out here in California. He suspected that Jesus was a witch but didn't tell anybody because they wouldn't like him if they knew. It was smart to keep quiet about such things and then people would like you. Some people had had enough of the magick and did bad things to Jesus, but he was as powerful as he was good and didn't stay dead. Maybe he and Jesus could be friends someday.

Most of the kids were pretty nice, but Jessica was a spoiled snot and Buddy Green, the deacon's son, was a very bad boy. Even so, Sunday school was a nice place. He'd never had anything like this before. Why hadn’t Grandma ever thought of this? Still, he always had the feeling that he was standing on the very brink of trouble. Trouble only came when he wasn't looking for it. So he remained vigilant. He had made friends with the girl next door. Ted and Patty Kraft had a little girl his age, named Diana. Ted worked as a deputy sheriff, and he and Patty used to invite Mommy and Daddy to all their parties on the weekends. It seemed that only a few adults ever went to Sunday school. It was just for kids. He and Diana would start second grade in school next September. Her breath always smelled like vitamins and she liked to play house with dolls a lot, but girls were like that, and he didn't have any qualms about girls being girls. She was nice, but sometimes just a little too bossy.

"Let's play 'house,'" Diana said, pulling out her dolls and crib. "You can be the daddy and I'll be the mommy and this is our baby and I'll make us dinner on this pretend stove and then you have to eat it and say, 'This is great stuff, honey.' And then I'll say, 'It's just a little recipe I got from my mother.' And then you kiss me and the baby and go to work and..."

"Going to work" was a great way to avoid being excessively scripted. He wondered if real daddies felt the same way. He wandered into the field across the street and pretended he was a world famous explorer in the wilds of Africa. The Kraft's Great Dane, Duchess, often followed him on such forays. Duchess played the part of all the wild animals and he was careful not to overscript her part. Which usually meant he was going to be covered in lion slobber instead of being eaten. By the time he remembered to come back, Diana was right where he left her and still chattering away at him.

"Where have you been all this time?" she said, wagging a digit in his face. "I've been worried sick about you. Then you have to say: 'I'm sorry, honey. I've been out drinking with the boys.' And then I'll say: 'You gotta sleep on the couch.' And then..."

Johnny laughed. It often went just this way. Diana insisted that it wasn't funny, but then she laughed too. Then they pretended to be a team of world renown scientists, studying the dinosaurs in the wilds of deepest, darkest Africa, in the field across the street. Of course, their studies hadn't gone very far before Duchess, the fierce allosaurus chased them down and covered the intrepid scientists in dinosaur drool.

When Johnny played with Diana, her mother, Patty, always insisted that they check back in with her every so often. This usually meant treats like Kool-Aid or popsicles at check in time before being allowed to return to play in the hot sun. Both of their skins tanned a deep, golden brown and their hair bleached pale blond in the California sunshine. Diana almost looked like she could be his sister, and insisted that they should grow up to become movie stars. Then they could go and star in monster movies and see real dinosaurs that didn’t slobber all over them. To Johnny, this was preferable to actually being eaten, but then, as Diana would point out, he was just a boy.

It was Saturday afternoon as they were returning from safari in the fields, they were confronted by Deacon Green’s black sedan in the Kraft’s driveway and Buddy waiting alone for them on the front lawn. Johnny got more than enough of Buddy in Sunday school. For a boy who’s dad was on a first name basis with Jesus, Buddy sure could be bad. The grownups were having drinks in the backyard patio and as kids they had to occupy themselves and stay out of everyone’s way.

“Wutcha guys doin’?” Buddy asked.

“We were exploring and hunting big game in the jungle,” Johnny said.

“We caught Duchess, the ferocious, man eating lion, ” Diana said, holding onto the big dog’s collar to avoid being slurped.

“That’s just a dumb ol’ dog,” Buddy said, “and those are just tall weeds.”

“Duchess is a good girl,” Diana insisted. “Aren’t you, girl?” Duchess agreed with a wet doggie kiss.

“We were pretending anyway,” Johnny said. “So, what did you want to play?”

“I can’t leave the yard,” Buddy said. “My dad won’t be staying long. We’ve got church tomorrow. Maybe we could make a tent with a blanket on top of those bushes over there,” he suggested, pointing to the blanket in the shade that they had been playing on earlier in the day.

“We can use the tent as our base camp,” Diana suggested, “and send out our scouts to map the jungle from here.”

Johnny liked the idea. If Buddy was any where near as bad as he behaved in Sunday school, he could put some distance between them by leaving to explore the jungle. They fastened one end of the blanket on a low hedge and held up the other by propping a pair of plastic flamingos under the remaining two corners. In no time, the base camp was established and they enjoyed popsicles under their new tent. Being the biggest of them, Buddy insisted upon assuming the role of party leader. The first order of business was that they should bed in for the night. They lay down in the grass under the tent, and Buddy sidled over to Diana’s side and began rubbing up against her.

“What are you doing?” Diana asked.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “We’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“None of your bees wax,” Buddy snarled, kicking Johnny in the face. “You’re supposed to be