The Witch's garden
The old witch had only died a week ago, but her garden was already overgrown. I had always assumed the plants were magic. Now I knew for sure.
I figured Dorothy Marlowe was a witch when I started visiting her before school. The first time was a Thursday, the day of the week I was born. Most mornings my mom and I walk down Davis Lane where the houses are all painted tan. But that morning we took a new way, down Rosewood Lane, where the houses are all painted white. I was hunting for ants, which my mom didn’t like much. We were going to be late for school.
As I was running to catch up with her, one of the houses caught my eye. It was green, like the color of monster slime. Instead of a lawn full of grass, the yard was full of flowers, vegetables, and other plants. Some of them were growing up the side of the house, and along the purple fence. I didn’t know what they were. So I stopped and stared.
“Ivy, let’s go! School isn’t going to wait for you.”
I swear, I’m usually really good. But that day I couldn’t move. It was like my mom’s voice was very far away. Or underwater. The strange flowers blew in the breeze. I didn’t remember it being windy before that moment.
“Ivy, I’m serious, lets…” My mom’s phone rang. I could hear her sigh and knew she was rolling her eyes. “Hello?”
Suddenly the door to the house flew open. It banged against the siding, causing the birds in a nearby bush to fly away screeching. I jumped, wondering if I should fly away too. Instead, I looked up at the door.
In the entrance stood a woman with the longest hair I had ever seen. It hung down like the branches of weeping willow tree, brushing the front porch. She was dressed head-to-toe in white, but the fabrics were covered in stains of every color. I thought maybe she was a painter. The woman looked at me, and even from the sidewalk I could see that her eyes were the color of cold water.
“He did, what?” My mother was yelling into the receiver. It sounded important, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the woman in the white clothes. She smiled warmly and waved.
“God, not now.” My mother sighed bigger than before. “All right. Yeah. All right, sure. I’ll be there. Mhmm. Bye. Dammit!”
Now I turned. So did the strange woman. My mother looked sweaty, even though it was a cool day in fall. She shook her head, hands on her hips, and groaned at the cloudy sky.
“Ivy, I - oh! Hi Mrs. Marlowe, I didn’t see you there. Sorry if you heard all that.”
“No worries at all, Mrs. Rodan. I was just saying hello to your lovely daughter.” Mrs. Marlowe smiled at me and winked. I could have sworn her eye changed to the color of fire. My hands gripped tighter to the purple fence.
“Right, good. Ivy, honey. I have to run. Your brother got into some trouble on the way to the high school, okay? I have to go help him. You can walk yourself to school, right? It’s very close.
“I don’t want to.”
“It’s okay, sweetie! Mrs. Marlowe could help you get there. Right? She’s a friend from my garden club. Or did we meet at the library?”
Mrs. Marlowe waved her hand. “I’ve been around this town so long, it’s hard to know.” She turned to me. “Let’s just say I’ve known your mother for a long time.” She winked again. Was her eye green this time?
I shook my head and hid my hands in the sleeves of my windbreaker. “Mom you always take me to school.”
“Honey, don’t worry, you’re almost at school. I bet you know the way better than I do.” She kneeled down to straighten my bangs. “Besides, Mrs. Marlowe is a very nice lady. She’ll help you with anything you need.” My mom mouthed the words, “Thank you,” to Mrs. Marlowe. I pretended not to see.
“Don’t worry, my dear.” Mrs. Marlowe stepped off her porch and walked towards the fence I had been clinging to for dear life only minute before. “The teachers will never know.”
Mrs. Marlowe smiled down at me. I stared at her tiny teeth and chubby cheeks, wondering what she meant by that. My mother on the other hand seemed perfectly satisfied. “I owe you, Mrs. Marlowe. Have a great day at school, Ivy!” She shouldered her brown, leather purse and took off jogging, back the way we came.
I watched until my mother rounded the corner and disappeared behind the yellow leaves of a tree. It wasn’t until she spoke that I realized Mrs. Marlowe was watching too.
“Call me Dorothy.”
I jumped. “Sorry?”
“Mrs. Marlowe is my great-great-grandmother. Dorothy is just fine.”
I twisted my hands on the ends of my dress. My tights suddenly felt itchy.
“All right, come on. Cookies don’t just make themselves.”
Dorothy started back into the house. “Wait!” I heard myself say. I was reminded how shy I felt. “Um...I have school, right?”
“You do. School can wait. Come on.”
“But...I’ll get in trouble.” I looked down at my red high tops. “I always get in trouble.”
Dorothy turned around to face me. Her eyes seemed to be able to see right into my brain. She stared into my eyes with a sadness I couldn’t make sense of. I tried to look away, but couldn’t.
A car whizzed by and broke the silence. I thought about running towards the school, but my curiosity got the better of me. I stayed put, waiting.
“You won’t get in trouble. I can promise you that.” Dorothy smiled, and turned back towards the house, her long hair dragging behind her. Without looking back, she walked through the doorway and slammed it shut. The birds in the bush flew up, startled again.
I was left alone, wondering if I was still invited. I wondered why I cared. If I didn’t start walking to school now, I knew I’d be late. Mrs. Bianchi would put another check next to my name on the board. Three checks meant I’d be sent to the principal’s office. I already had two.
“Walk to school,” I whispered. “Move your feet, and walk to school.”
I opened the gate to the purple, picket fence, and walked through Dorothy Marlowe’s front door.
It was warm inside. It felt like I was at the beach, but smelled like I was in a garden. The front room was full of chairs, couches, and foot rests of every color and pattern, all arranged around a colorful rug and a heavy, wooden table. At the far end was an empty fireplace, surrounded by a carved, stone mantel. I couldn’t make out what the carvings were. Lounging in front of it were three cats, each them as black as the underside of my bed. All three cats stared at me, without blinking. I gulped.
The amazing thing about the room was the lights. There wasn’t a lamp in sight. The entire room was draped in white, twinkle lights that lit the entire space. They hung from the ceiling, from curtain rods, and off the fireplace mantel. And not a single one was plugged into the wall.
Dorothy poked her head into the room from a doorway at the far end. Her hair was piled high onto her head and secured with two chopsticks. At the end of each stick was a star. “You’re a bit slow this morning! Not to worry. These cookies will get you going. Come on, the kitchen is this way.” She disappeared again.
I followed her through a hallway into a bright kitchen with yellow cabinets. It was small, and the limited space on the blue countertops was already full of various ingredients, measuring devices, and stirring utensils. Near the back of the house was a dining room table, stacked high with books. Twinkles lights hung everywhere, just like the front room.
“Hold this.” Dorothy shoved a book into my arms and nearly knocked me back into the hallway. “And this.” She handed me a measuring cup full of a thick, purple liquid. It smelled like strawberries.
I leaned my head over to get a better whiff. “Don’t drink that! It’s for the marlettes that live under my porch. Kills them flat, the pests.”
“What’s that?”
Dorothy looked up from the cabinet she was digging through. “What grade are you in?”
“Third.”
"And you don’t know what a marlette is? This school system. I swear…” On the floor surrounding Dorothy were dozens of tupperware containers in every size and shape. Each one had something in it, some liquid, some solid. One looked like it had swirling smoke inside.
“Here’s what we need!” From underneath the sink, Dorothy pulled out a vial that was as long as my arm and twice as skinny. Inside were hundreds of tiny balls. They looked like tiny, pink pearls.
“This is what makes the cookies special. Do they teach you about these in school?”
I shook my head.
“Tell your mother it’s time for homeschool.” She threw back her head and let out a laugh that reminded me of a crow. “Nevermind, homeschool kids are weird. These -” Dorothy held up the vial. “- Are butterfly eggs.”
“I’ve never seen a butterfly egg like that.”
“Oh really, Miss Smart Stuff. And I bet you’ve never seen an accordion worm either.” She rolled her eyes. I couldn’t help but giggle. Dorothy smiled. “Trust me. These are what our cookies need.”
We got to work right away. Dorothy bustled around her kitchen, opening jars, shaking packages, sniffing ingredients, and slamming cabinet doors. I stood still in front of the countertop, hovering over a ceramic bowl and waiting for instructions. I stirred when told to stir. I poured when told to pour. The mixture in front of me slowly got thicker, and began turning light purple, like the flowers I see in the school yard.
Despite my first fears of Dorothy, I found myself having fun. The woman was weird. But every little outburst, laugh, or puzzled look she gave made me smile. I forgot all about school. I forgot all about the check marks. I forgot all about my mom running off to my brother. I forgot all my problems for a while.
“Okay!” Dorothy interrupted my thoughts, making me to jump. I laughed at myself. “Settle down, girl. This is the most important part.” Dorothy grabbed the vial of butterfly eggs. “You do the honors.”
My stomach flipped. The eggs looked so fragile. I thought back to all the times I’d broken plates, dropped food, or tripped over my own feet. I shook my head.
“Nope!” Dorothy shook her head right back. “No chickening out. This is your job. Get it done.” She held out the vile for me to take. Slowly, I reached both hands out and pulled it close.
“Now pour the whole thing into the mixture. And watch.”
I did, slowly. As soon as the eggs hit the lavender batter, I gasped. Each egg dissolved almost immediately, releasing a glittering smoke into the air. The smoke began to swirl gently over the bowl. I looked at Dorothy. She nodded and pointed back towards the smoke. I looked, and gasped again. The smoke was slowly taking shape in thin air. It looked like a butterfly.
“What is that?” I pointed, careful not to touch the smoke in the air.
“That,” Dorothy said, putting her hands on my shoulders. “That is what magic looks like.”
I gulped. She was confirming all my suspicions. Dorothy Marlowe, was a witch.
***
At 10:30 a.m., Dorothy stood on her porch and waved goodbye as I walked to school. “Have a great day, my dear! Say hi to your mother for me. And be sure to eat a cookie as soon as you’re on school grounds. Not before, and not after!”
In my hand was a small bag of purple cookies. I gave Dorothy a big wave, and headed towards school. My feet lifted off the ground, skipping the entire way. I didn’t think about check marks once.
When I got to the door of the school, my stomach dropped. Mrs. Bianchi was going to kill me. I was almost through the front door, when I remembered Dorothy’s instructions. “Eat a cookie when you get to the school,” I whispered. At the top of the stone steps, I took my first bite of the butterfly cookies.
I felt like I had bitten into play-dough. It tasted like nothing at first, until I started to chew. My mouth filled with the flavors of cotton candy and root beer. The cookie melted in my mouth as I chewed. It was somehow sweet, but not sugary at all. When I swallowed, it tickled my throat on the way down.
After the first bite, I paused. “Am I stupid?” I said aloud. “That woman could have poisoned me!” I almost threw the cookie onto the ground, but stopped myself. If I was going to die, it was already too late. That cookie was in my system. Besides, I saw Dorothy eat one before I left. If I was going down, so was she.
I decided to finish it. Every bite tasted better than the last. One minute it tasted like sprinkles and cookie dough, and the next it tasted like gummies and whipped cream. It was the best cookie I had ever eaten. If I was about to die, I’d be leaving the world happy.
The rest of the cookies looked tempting, but I thought I’d save them for later. “What now?” I said, looking up at the school. The clock on the tower said it was nearly 11:00. I was already three hours late.
I shrugged. Something inside of me had stopped caring. If I was going to the principal’s office, let it happen. Mrs. Bianchi could do whatever she wanted.
The heavy doors of the school felt lighter today. So light, I almost fell over pulling one open. It was quiet inside. Ms. Kozlowski, the secretary at the front office, waved me into the office.
“Hi sweetheart. Late today?”
“Yea. I was...busy.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I just didn’t know how to explain that I was making magical cookies with the neighborhood witch.
“That’s fine. I’ll let your teacher know you’re here.”
“Do I need to sign the sheet?”
Ms. Kozlowski looked up at me and smiled. It was as if she hadn’t heard me. “I’ll let your teacher know you’re here. Have fun in class.”
The secretary nodded at me, picked up her phone, and waved me out of the office. Her long, red nails clacked on phone as she dialed. I backed slowly out of the office, gripping the straps of my backpack as I dashed off to class.
My feet were quiet in the carpeted hallway, but the school was even quieter. I wondered if the school was supposed to take tests this week. Maybe these magic cookies would help me get out of it somehow.
Mrs. Bianchi’s classroom was the last to the left on the second floor. My feet felt like they were moving through molasses. When I finally reached the door, I opened it slowly and peaked inside.
“Ivy, welcome! Go ahead, take your seat.”
My teacher was smiling. I looked from her to the board and scanned for my name. Where were the check marks?
“Don’t dally, we’re right in the middle of a lesson my dear!”
Without saying a word, I slunk into my seat and settled in for the lesson on astronomy. I looked at the bag of cookies, now sitting in my lap. Maybe I should go to Dorothy’s house more often.
END PART 1