You and your buds climb through the hedge separating your yard from the witch's. Her lawn is perfectly
manicured. Too perfectly, you never have seen anyone mow it, but every day it appears to be freshly mown.
Everything about the house is so normal, but too normal. The white picket fence in front is too white and too
pickety. The lace curtains in the windows are too lacy. The welcome mat says welcome in a too friendly way
that makes your balls shrink and you want to run home screaming. Your friends notice it too, but none of you
wants to be the first to yield.
You clear your voice, "My mom said that SHE," nodding toward the witch's house, "WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED is at
the Library Committee Potluck tonight. So the house should be empty. Maybe we should check the basement
windows?"
Your bros agree that is a good idea, and you go around the far side of the house. That side is darker than
the side by your house because the witch's house is the last house on the block before the old cemetery. You
stumble over a painted garden gnome, and swear it moved because you're sure it was a foot from your path and
not in. The guys giggled nervously, and say, "Yeah, sure," but you know they think you're spooked. Still you
are sure that evil gnome moved.
"It's just plaster, bro. See?" says Jason picking up the garden gnome and tapping its hollow head with his
fist.
"Be careful, Jase, you're gonna crack it," hissed Kevin.
"Yeah, so what?" Jason answered, but he carefully put the gnome back where he got it.
"Whoa! An open window," you exclaim softly in surprise.
"Well, that's what you were looking for - now go in," prompts Jase.
"Anyone got a flashlight?" you ask.
Kevin has one at the ready. You take it. Fortunately, it's too dark for Kevin to see your frightened glare as
you aim the light through the dark open basement window.
It illuminates a store room of some sort, but the crates and boxes aren't your ordinary normal cardboard.
There's a friggin' mummy sarcophagus in the corner, and lots of old stained wooden crates, leather trunks,
wicker baskets, and things that look a hundred years old. There's something metal in the corner that might be
an iron maiden. Gingerly, you climb backwards through the window using a stone box with strange markings on
it as a step stool.
"Come on down," you call to your friends.
At the Library Committee Potluck, your mother is chatting with SHE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED.
"Oh, Almira, you do make the best deviled eggs, you must tell me your secret," your mother says.
"Haha, dearie, there's no secret, you just have to know how to bedevil the hens!" she laughs.
"Oh, I'll have to remember that one. You know my son tells me that some of the neighborhood boys think you
are a witch, no idea where they get such notions," she laughs shaking her head.
She doesn't notice Almira's face freeze for a moment in a grimace as someone discovered.
"Do they really, my dear," she asks nervously rubbing her hands together.
"Oh, they're just really overgrown children. A single older woman living next to a cemetery and kids'
imaginations conjure "witch." They know better, I'm sure," your mother says. She adds, "You have children
yourself, so you know. Didn't you say your son was a doctor?"
"Yes," distracted by thoughts of her son she beams proudly, "Yes, my son the doctor. In fact, he popped into
town earlier today, so I should get going home to tend to him."
"He's in town? You and he should come to dinner tomorrow evening," your mother insists.
"I don't think he'll be here then. He's just here on a - uh, layover. Mom's house is cheaper than the
Holiday Inn," she laughs.
"Well, before you go, I want you to try a piece of my cake."
"I really should be going," she says moving toward the door.
"Oh, please I'd like your opinion. It's my mother's devil's food cake recipe."
"Devil's food you say?" she asks licking her lips. She smiles and walks back toward the buffet table, "I can't
say no to devil's food."
Kevin tumbles off the stone box with a loud thud.
Everyone puts fingers to their lips and shush him.
"I thought you said she wasn't home?"
"Not supposed to be, but if she's a witch she can probably appear at will."
"Or in a cloud of smoke."
"Wait I'm sure I heard something upstairs."
You all quietly creep to the store room door, and gently turn the handle.
Her finished basement family room is decorated in an aboriginal theme.
"Looks like the Tiki Room on steroids," you laugh as you walk into the room.
Exotic fantastic masks glare at you from the thatch covered walls. Garlands of shrunken heads decorate the
Tiki bar.
Suddenly one of the masks moves. It has arms and legs!
"Ooogah, boogah!" the masked man shouts. You notice that the body belongs to a muscular young man who aside
from the mask is wearing only a leather loin cloth, a belt with a skull and some pouches hanging from it, a
necklace made of bone and feather, beaded bracelets on each wrist, and grassy anklets over each bare foot.
The store room door slams apparently of its own accord.
Kevin races to the door, and turns the handle without success. He says in a teary voice, "It's locked."
"Trespassers will be prosecuted," says the witch doctor in perfect English as he takes some powder from one of
the pouches around his waist and hurls it you and your friends. Then he chants dancing and waving his arms
madly, "Oootakka, oootakkka, bin dagga, wagga, boo!"
The powder in the air around you bursts into flames. You all scream.