The Witch's Bottle

Chapter 13 – The Loss of an Ally

Maybe the moon was too bright, but there was no sleep in her that night. She had absorbed a tongue wagging when they got home. Apparently she had been sulky, self-absorbed, and not shown the requisite amount of gratitude. Really, what was she supposed to do?

Oh God, what a day though! Vanessa lay there for hours wondering what it all meant. Would she live an average life with an average job? She decided this: she should do something special with her gifts. She should help people. She thought of Timmy, poor soul, haunting this house for hundreds of years. Why hadn’t he crossed for so long? She thought about vampires for a bit. She pictured a count Dracula figure, with long fangs. Why would a vampire use a dagger?

That was when she heard it. Something was running in the night. It sounded heavy, quickly getting louder as it came straight to their house. She was afraid. It was panting. It had stopped at their front door now. She heard it step onto the porch. Buster was asleep. She shook him. He blinked at her just once and then sprung up as if he had been struck. The hair on his back went straight up and he began to bark frantically. He jumped at the bedroom door and pawed at it. Somewhere in the distance, other dogs took up the mantra. Vanessa let him out of the bedroom, and Buster raced down the stairs to stand at the front door, barking and howling like a demon. Her mom was out of bed and the house lit up.

The footsteps on the porch stalled, and the thing growled. It was a bottomless rumble compared to Buster’s ringing peels, but he kept barking until it turned away. Vanessa crouched by a window and watched in horror as a dark figure the size of a bear ran back into the night.

Her mom was angry with Buster, but Vanessa took the bullet.

“Something was scratching around the porch mom. It scared me. I must have woken him up.”

“Ugh. Probably raccoons. What an imagination. Go back to sleep please.”

Vanessa hugged her little beagle and told him he was a very good boy. She was completely awestruck by his courage. He must have sensed how big that thing was.

* * *

The morning came and Vanessa was surprised to find she had slept. Buster had stayed up top with her, keeping her safe. Something was making a strange sound in her room. She was mystified and annoyed.
Then she realized it was her cell phone ringing.

“Hello,” she muttered. She had not slept enough. Was that a nightmare – the creature coming to her door?
Her nerves fired up, and she was suddenly awake.

“Vanessa? Hi – it’s Mike. Are we still going back to the fairgrounds?”

“Let me call you. I didn’t check with my mom yet.”

“I can pick you up if she won’t drive you.”

“Okay. I’ll text you when I know.”

Transportation was less than half the problem. Her mom was a weekend workaholic, and she liked plenty of help. She showered and dressed up before heading down to breakfast, which was cold because she had slept in, and her mom had still made it on schedule. She was already off scrubbing a toilet.

On the kitchen table was a list of tasks. Vanessa groaned.

“Mom. I need to go to the…library today,” she called out plaintively.

Her mom poked her head out from the bathroom. She looked annoyed when she saw her showered and dressed up. Her mom was short-tempered when she did housework.

“Why? You were there yesterday. For almost four hours!”

“You wouldn’t understand mom. I really, really, really need to go. I’m doing research on something.”

“Research? What’s this important research about? It’s your summer vacations?”

Okay let’s see how this sounds, thought Vanessa. First of all I am a witch, and I am trying to solve the murder of Timmy – oh, he’s the ghost in our attic. I think his mom was the famous witch Sarah Brookes. I think a vampire might have killed Timmy, and some kind of animal was on our porch last night and I think it might be after me. The fortune teller at the fair is probably a witch – because I stole the witch compass and it switched on when she came near – and she knows something about this crazy mess. I am scared and I need to figure it out, so housework is not my priority.

Nope. That would never fly.

“Mom, you wouldn’t understand. I have to go. It’s important. And you don’t have to bring me, I have a lift.”

“You have a lift?” she said. Her eyes widened, and then the interrogation ended. “Mike? He seems like a nice boy.”

The battle was won. Vanessa made her mom laugh while they waited, talking about how Mike and his mom were constantly arguing in the library, imitating their whispered yelling. Her mom was looking at her with a lingering smile as she ran out to jump into Mike’s car.

It was an old Buick, not something Mike would have picked out. As she settled onto the cracked leather seats, Vanessa was predictably blunt.

“Your mom’s car?”

“My dad’s. When he passed away, we figured it was too old to fetch anything, so we kept it. My mom has a huge pickup truck. Scares me to think of her driving a truck.”

“Nothing about your mom will ever surprise me again.”

As the Buick approached the fairgrounds, Vanessa noticed that a police car seemed to be on their bumper. They turned, and he turned.

“Say Mike, this isn’t a stolen car, is it?”

“Of course not! I told you it was my dad’s.”

“Okay. Then that police car just happens to be going where we are going.”

“Vanessa – look!”

The fairground parking lot was cordoned off, and blue-red strobes lit up the morning. A half dozen police cars, an ambulance, and a city morgue truck were crowded near the entrance, and the establishment was closed down. They pulled over, and the police car behind them continued into the parking lot.

“What rotten luck. Someone must have been badly hurt or something. One year, the rollercoaster slipped a rail and – “

“No,” said Vanessa. “It’s Grinka.”

Mike looked at her.

“What? Why would you be so sure about that? It could be anything.”

But she was sure. Maybe it was her premonitions. Or, there were too many police cars and not enough ambulances for an accident. The main thing though, is that her witch compass had not switched on. If Grinka was that close, and if she was alive, Vanessa was sure it would have.

“Go ask if you don’t believe me.”

Mike ran off to find a police officer. Vanessa’s ears were tuning to the inspectors furthest away, near the entrance. They estimated Grinka had been dead almost 12 hours, strangled. They coolly observed it took big hands to get around that throat. She had fought like a lion and the assailant had also been injured. They were discussing where to go for lunch when Mike came back.

“They won’t tell me anything,” he said. “Hey! Do you think you can listen in on their conversation?”

“I did. It’s Grinka. She was strangled at around midnight.”

“Oh no! Our one good lead.” Then, looking uncomfortable, he added. “Poor her.”

Vanessa was shaking. Tears flowed, and she started to sob in ruptured spasms. This was getting a bit too real. Nightmares and ghosts were one thing. But why had Grinka spoken to them in the haunted house? Why was she dead now? What was that THING that had shown up on her porch? She wanted to be bored again, she wanted to renovate her big ugly home!

Mike had his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, thinking she probably had phlegm dripping everywhere. He looked more like a puppy dog than ever. Maybe a Rottweiler. A handsome one. Just like before, she felt the urge to tell him everything.

“Okay Mike. There’s three things. First of all, Grinka was a witch. I know because I took the witch compass. Now don’t get mad. Let me finish. Stop!” Mike was visibly upset, but he held his tongue.

“Secondly, something came to my door last night. Buster heard it and went berserk. Mike, I was so scared. It was huge, like a bear. Maybe something out there is hunting witches.”

Mike was still biting his tongue, and failed to comfort her.

“What’s the third thing?” he asked with coldness in his voice.

“What is wrong with you? Did you hear what I said?”

He unloaded. “Vanessa, you stole the witch compass. I can’t believe you would do that. And from MY MOM on top of it! We are both going out of our way to help you. I am furious about it. If someone checked into it right now, my mom would – she would probably lose her job because she let you into that room. She trusted you. I trusted you!”

Vanessa searched his face with disbelief. He had been so kind, nothing had bothered him. Until she’d stepped on his mother’s toes, that is.

“I trusted you too, Mike.” She ran out of the car and her tears started again. She hid behind a tree and doubled over in sobs. Didn’t he have a clue what she was going through? Mike was there in an instant. Through a weeping haze, she heard him apologizing, saying it would be alright.

“I am sorry Vanessa. Listen to me. I am so sorry.” He led her back to the car and waited for her to stabilize before speaking. “Look we can’t be fighting. Something big is going on. Let’s go back to the library and put our heads together.”

“Who? You and your mom?”

“No Vanessa. You and me…and my mom too. She knows what’s what with vampires, right? You can’t choose your relatives,” he chuckled. “But you can choose your friends. And I am here because I want to be here.”

They smiled at one another. It was the first time they’d ever done that. Mike started driving and asked:

“So what was that third thing?”

“I forget,” she said, not feeling the need to tell him anymore that she was falling in love.