The Unwilling Witch Page 3

  “I command you to change.”

  Nope.

  “I command thee to change.”

  No luck.

  The phone rang.

  “Could you get that?” Mom called from downstairs.

  I picked it up in my parents’ room.

  “Is Splat there?” Norman asked.

  “He can’t come tonight,” I said.

  “Why?”

  What could I say? I turned him into a doll and I’m having a little trouble turning him back. I can bring him over, but he won’t be great company. All he’s good for is a tea party. Nope. I don’t think so.

  “Never mind,” Norman said before I could think of a reasonable excuse. “I guess something better came along. I understand.” He hung up the phone.

  Now I felt even worse. Norman probably figured Sebastian had ditched him for the evening. Before I’d met Jan, I had some friends who weren’t always very nice to me. I knew what it felt like to get dumped. My hand hovered over the phone, but I couldn’t do it. I especially couldn’t tell Norman that there was a problem I couldn’t solve. Not until I’d tried my hardest to figure it out by myself.

  I went back to my room, sat on my bed, and lifted Darling up to my face. “What is going on?” I asked her. “Do you have any idea what’s happening to me?”

  “Mewrowp.”

  That was all the answer I got from her.

  I tried everything I could think of to change Sebastian back. Nothing worked. That evening, after dinner, I tried some more. Eventually, I started getting suspicious. Maybe Sebastian was playing some kind of a joke on me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he and Norman had rigged the whole thing up somehow. There was no way the doll could really be my brother.

  It didn’t matter. By then, I was so tired, I knew I had to stop trying and get ready for bed.

  That’s when the bad part started.

  Eight

  OUT OF CONTROL

  As I reached for my hairbrush, it shot from my hand and smashed into the wall. The brush shattered into tiny pieces. It was so sudden and unexpected, I just froze for a moment.

  Instead of falling, the pieces rose up, buzzing like insects, and flew around the room in a swarm. They kept circling my head. As I tried to get away from them, I noticed movement on my bed. The pillow was jerking and shaking, like there was something alive inside the case. With each jerk, it moved closer to the edge of the bed.

  “Stop.” I wanted to shout, but the word came out in a whisper.

  The pillow reached the edge of the bed and started to topple to the floor.

  I backed away until I felt the dresser pressing against me. The pillow fell from the bed. It hit the floor and splashed open, spilling a thick green liquid on the rug. The pieces of the brush flew away from me and swooped onto the puddle.

  The drawer behind me shot open, pushing me across the room. I barely managed to stop before stepping into the spreading green puddle.

  I spun toward the dresser just as Darling leaped up there.

  I took a step toward her. One of my shirts moved inside the open drawer. The sleeve lifted up and flapped over the edge. Something swelled inside it and started to come out. Fingers. A hand. It slithered through the sleeve. The index finger pointed at me.

  “No. Stop. Please … stop.”

  Around the room, orange light flickered, throwing fireplace shadows on the walls. I felt heat and smelled smoke.

  My curtains lifted as a breeze entered the room, even though the window was closed. The breeze gained force. I closed my eyes. The wind blew hard particles against my face. It felt like sand. An instant later, I flinched as a crash of thunder shook the house. The air grew damp as the wind drove rain into the room.

  Inside my head, I heard a voice. Earth, air, fire, and water. Choose your power, chosen daughter.

  I looked at the doll, expecting it to leap up or start talking. It didn’t move.

  All the clothing in the open dresser drawer flew into the air as lightning struck again.

  A third bolt hit so close to the house that I could feel my hair standing out from my head as the air filled with static electricity.

  The light grew brighter. Lightning hit twice more, coming so quickly that the second thunderclap overlapped the first. Then the whole world—the light and sound and the wind against my face—faded, growing dimmer and weaker, moving farther away. The world turned gray, then darker. The sounds became whispers. The whispers became silence. I crumpled to the floor and slipped into the blackness.

  Nine

  IN A REAL MESS

  Someone was rubbing my face with a rough washcloth.

  No. It was Darling, licking my face.

  I sat up slowly, expecting more terror, but the room was quiet. I found my brush on the floor. It wasn’t shattered, but there was a crack in the handle. My pillow was undamaged, but it smelled of mildew. My clothes were scattered around the room.

  I piled the clothes in the corner. I wasn’t sure I wanted to put anything in that drawer. What a terrible night! I headed down to the kitchen. As I passed the stove, the left front burner burst into flames. I turned the knob, shutting off the gas.

  Earth, air, fire, and water. The voice rose in my mind.

  “No,” I said aloud. “Not again. Stop this.”

  There was a rush of water from the faucet behind me. I turned it off. The gas flared up again. Then the faucet. The fan above the oven started spinning. I heard a rattle. The windows shook. Glass came from sand. Sand was from the earth.

  Earth, air, fire, and water. Choose your power, chosen daughter. It was a chorus of voices now.

  If I had to choose, what would I pick? Fire can burn you. Earth can bury you. Water can drown you. “Air,” I said, though I had no idea what it meant. The moment I spoke, the flame died, the water stopped, and the rattling ended. The fan kept running. I reached out and switched it off.

  Darling stretched her front paws up my leg. “I have to go out,” I told her. “I need to find some answers.”

  “Meewworlll.”

  I guess that meant it was okay.

  I headed for Jan’s house. For all her silliness and joking around, Jan comes up with some great ideas. She’s got a lot more common sense than most people realize.

  In a way, we make a strange pair. It’s like we’re riding bikes to the same spot on a mountain, but Jan is coasting downhill while I’m pedaling up the slope. I’ll work for days on a report. Jan will write something at the last minute. We’ll both get a B. I’ll spend a half hour choosing an outfit to wear. Jan will grab some clothes from her floor, and she’ll look great. But that doesn’t bother me. She’s my friend.

  I reached her house and rang the bell.

  Jan came to the door, gasped, and said, “You look absolutely awful.”

  I could also count on her to be disgustingly honest. “I had a rough night.”

  “What’s going on?” Jan asked when we got to her room.

  “Something real spooky is happening to me,” I said.

  “Great. I love spooky stuff.”

  “This isn’t fun spooky.” I told her about the park.

  Jan frowned. “After you saw the lady become a bird, did you see anything else? Dancing fairies? Juggling trolls? Elvis Presley in a flying saucer?”

  “I’m serious,” I told her. “I think I can do things.”

  “That’s great,” Jan said. “Do something.”

  “I don’t know how.” I looked around, wishing that something would happen. Across the room, behind Jan, half the clothes in her closet slithered off their hangers and dropped to the floor. “Look!” I said.

  Jan glanced over and shrugged. “So I’m a bit messy. That’s not exactly news.”

  “I’m not making this up.”

  “I believe you,” Jan said. “You don’t have to show me any proof.”

  “Really?” It felt great to hear those words.

  Jan nodded. “Sure. I mean, you’d believe anything I told you. Right?”
/>   “Right.” I guess that’s part of why we were friends.

  Jan smiled and said, “You know, it would be so cool to have some kind of special power. Think about it, Angie.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not cool. I don’t have any control. I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

  “But imagine what you could do if you learned to control the power. You could save the rain forests. You could feed all the hungry people in the world.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head again. “Don’t you think if someone could do that sort of stuff, it would be done already?”

  “Maybe the wrong person had the power?…”

  Wow. I didn’t know what to say to that. I certainly felt like the wrong person.

  “Hey,” Jan said, “if you can’t save the planet, what about creating a couple of triple-scoop hot-fudge sundaes. Extra fudge. Nuts. Two cherries. No calories. That can’t be too hard.”

  “This isn’t like some old TV show. I can’t just blink stuff up like a genie. Right now, all I want is to figure out what’s going on, and get my life back in control.”

  Jan nodded. “Okay. We’ll save the sundaes for later. First some control. Then the rain forest. And then the sundaes. Where should we start?”

  “I was hoping you’d have an idea.”

  She snapped her fingers. “We could call the power company.”

  “That’s not very helpful,” I said.

  “What about a fortune-teller?” Jan asked. “You know, like in that house over on Randi Street with the sign in the window.”

  “I don’t think those people are for real.” I knew the place she meant. The sign showed a picture of a hand and a crystal ball. I had a feeling the owner was the only one who ended up with any kind of fortune. But that gave me an idea. “Isn’t there a shop that sells magic stuff over on Castor Avenue?”

  Jan nodded. “Yeah, right down the block from the yarn store. It’s got a funny name. I know—it’s the Good Speller.”

  “Let’s go.” I hopped off Jan’s bed. As we left her room, I glanced back. The sheet rose from her mattress as if being puffed up from beneath by air. “Jan! Your bed!” I pointed toward it, but by the time she looked, it had fallen back down.

  “Hey,” she said, “you’re starting to act like my mom. If you want my help, stop bugging me about the mess in my room. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  We hurried down to Castor Street. The Good Speller was at the end of the block. Beneath the name, the sign said: SPELLS, POTIONS, AMULETS, AND BOOKS. According to another sign, they also sold lottery tickets and repaired window shades. At the very bottom was the owner’s name—MISS ZENOBIA CHUTNEY.

  A bell tinkled as I opened the door. The place was pretty dark. “Hello?” I called.

  A plump woman with gray hair and glasses stood up from behind a counter on the left side of the store. “Lucinda!” she called, rushing around the counter. “It’s you!”

  She ran toward me. Then she stopped, took a good look at me, and fainted.

  Ten

  EXPERT HELP?

  I tried to catch the lady as she dropped to the floor. I didn’t quite break her fall, but I slowed it down a little.

  “What should we do?” I asked Jan.

  “Raise her feet?”

  “You sure?” That didn’t seem right to me.

  Jan frowned. “Raise her head?”

  “Stop guessing.”

  “I know—let’s raise her feet and her head.”

  “Jan!”

  I looked down at the woman. She opened one eye, peeked up at me, then closed it again.

  “Lady,” I said, “what’s going on?”

  She scrunched her eyes tighter.

  “Come on. I really need some help. Please.”

  She opened one eye again. Then she opened the other. She looked like she wanted to run away from me. “Could I have some water?” she asked Jan. “There’s a sink in the back.”

  “Sure.” Jan got up and went through a door behind the counter.

  “Relax,” I told the woman. “I won’t hurt you. Honest.”

  She shook her head. “This is a very dangerous time. Whether you want to or not, you might hurt yourself or those around you.”

  “No. I’d never hurt anyone.”

  “Yes, you might.”

  There was a clink from the next room, followed by the sound of water running. I realized that this woman had sent Jan off so she could talk to me alone. “Who is Lucinda? My name’s Angelina Claypool. Why’d you think I was Lucinda?”

  “That’s not important right now. But I must know one thing: Are you a good person?”

  “Of course I am.” I blurted that out without even thinking. How else could I answer that question?

  “Here we go,” Jan said as she came back. “Here’s a nice cold glass of water for you.” She glanced at me. “Cold is good, right? We don’t want hot water. That’s for delivering a baby.”

  The woman sat up and took the glass. “Thank you, dearie.”

  “Are you Miss Chutney?” I asked.

  “Yes. That’s me.” She put down the glass and rubbed her hands together.

  “Can you tell me anything about power?”

  She still looked scared. But she also looked like she wanted to talk. “I don’t mean to boast,” she said, “but I am considered quite an expert when it comes to—”

  The bell rang as the door opened. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen walked into the shop. If someone took all the best in me and all the best in Jan and all the best in every other girl in our class and put it together, the result wouldn’t have been half as pretty as this woman. I heard Jan give a little gasp. I heard myself give a little gasp, too.

  “I’d like some service, please,” the woman said. She looked at Miss Chutney, apparently unsurprised to find the store owner sitting on the floor. Then she looked at me. I felt like I’d been placed under a microscope.

  “Girls,” Miss Chutney said, “run along now.” She rose from the floor and stood between me and the beautiful woman. Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper. “This is no place for you young ladies.”

  “But…” I couldn’t believe she was throwing us out.

  “Please leave,” she said, making a shooing motion at us like we were flies. “I have a business to run.”

  “Come on, Claypool,” Jan said, taking my arm and trying to sound like a cowboy. “We aren’t welcome in these here parts.” She started to drag me from the shop.

  I didn’t want to leave—I wanted answers. But Jan was tugging at me, and Miss Chutney had turned her attention to the new customer. There didn’t seem to be any point in trying to stay.

  “Now what?” Jan asked as the door closed behind us and we walked away from the shop.

  I had no idea. “Maybe I’ll just go home.”

  “Or we could go to the mall,” Jan said.

  Before I could answer, I heard a shout from behind us. “Wait!”

  I turned back. Miss Chutney came huffing out of the store, waving a bag. “You forgot your book.” She ran up and thrust the package toward me.

  I just stared at her.

  “Take it,” Miss Chutney said.

  “Uh, thanks.” I took the bag from her.

  She turned back toward her shop and left us standing on the sidewalk.

  I opened the bag and slid the book out. It was a small, thin volume, covered with cracked leather that smelled like the furniture in our attic.

  “Let’s see,” Jan said.

  I held up the book so she—and I—could read the cover. The title was The Passage of Power.

  “Not exactly a light romance,” Jan said.

  She was right about that. But maybe it had some answers. There was still a problem, though. I was leaving the store with something besides the book. I was leaving with another question—one I’d never even wondered about before today. “Jan?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Do you think I’m a good
person?”

  Eleven

  ANSWERS AND QUESTIONS

  I guess I expected Jan to say Of course you’re good. Instead, she said, “Do you think you’re a good person?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “It depends what you mean by good,” she said.

  “That’s not a very helpful answer,” I told her.

  “It’s not a very easy question,” she said.

  She was right. It was a tough question. I wasn’t even sure what it meant to be good. I mean, I mostly listened to my folks, and I didn’t get into trouble in school. But I don’t think that’s what Miss Chutney had in mind.

  “So,” Jan said, “let’s get back to my question: Want to go to the mall?”

  I clutched the book. I needed to read it, but I knew Jan wanted to go to the mall. Well, there were nice places to sit in the mall and read. It would be real rotten of me to dump her and go home after she’d been so nice about coming to the Good Speller with me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “The mall would be great.”

  Jan grinned at me. “There’s your answer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This proves you’re a good person.”

  We walked through town toward the mall. On Taylor Street, a couple of blocks from the spell shop, a guy was washing his car in his driveway. The water ran in a soapy stream to the street and into the gutter. When I tried to step over the water, I got that same sick feeling I’d gotten on the bridge in the mall.

  Jan looked back at me and asked, “Afraid to get your shoes wet?”

  “Just being careful,” I told her as I walked into the street and went around the water.

  “Home at last,” Jan said when we reached the mall. “Where do you want to go first?”

  “How about we sit in the Hub for a while? I’d like to look at my book.”

  Jan made a face. “Gosh, that sounds like tons of fun. I can watch you read. If I’m good, will you let me turn the pages?”

  “Okay. You choose,” I said, feeling guilty.

  “Greeting cards?” Jan asked. “My grandma’s birthday is next week.”