The Rainbow Witch
Excerpt
"There she is," Cammie whispered. "The Witch!"
Cammie and Einstein stared at the old woman as she skipped along the path. An enormous black furry dog lumbered along at her side. The woman who might be a witch smiled at them and waved. A big, wide wave, as if she was trying to flag down a bullet train. Cammie and Einstein exchanged glances before turning back to see the old woman sit on the park bench. The dog sat down too. On the bench. Like he was a person.
Jaime, their younger brother, chased a large butterfly in circles as their mother talked to another woman nearby.
Cammie still did not understand what she was doing here in the park with her younger brothers, she'd be mortified if any of her friends spotted her. For some mysterious reason, when her mother had asked her if she wanted to come along, she had said yes. Not a maybe kind of yes, but a loud and definite kind of yes, as if someone had squeezed her midsection and out popped the word.
And now this, spotting the Witch and her dog.
"There's no such thing as a Witch," Einstein said, pushing his glasses up. "Witches are just a dumb childhood myth. For some reason they always seem to show up in kids' books."
"Chubs saw it. He swore on his mother's life."
Chubs, one of their friends, had told them how the old woman and her dog were sitting there when the dog catcher came up to the park to write tickets to everyone who didn't have their dogs on a leash. The dog catcher headed straight toward the woman. Doomed, Chubs thought, the old lady was doomed. Yet the dog catcher only asked where she got the fantastic rainbow leash.
The thing of it was, there was no leash.
Einstein dismissed this, "Chubs is full of it."
"But his mother's life! And he said she talks to her dog--"
"Everybody talks to their dog," Einstein interrupted in his high boy's voice that never matched his big words. "Anthropomorphism. It's when people think their dogs like TV and baths and pink sweaters with ribbons."
"But Chubs said her dog talks back."
"Chubs is so dumb," Einstein, who was not dumb, concluded. Einstein wasn't even his real name. His real name was John but nobody remembered that anymore. People called him Einstein because he was so smart, too smart, just everyone thought so. Especially his father, who wanted a normal kid. His father wanted a son who wasn't as smart or short, so they could play ball together. Whale size brains, shrimp size body, that was the problem.
Cammie stared openly with Einstein. Their mom always said staring was rude, but she wasn't paying attention right now.
The witch looked at her dog, "How are you feeling Bear Dog?"
"Hale Merry." His furry tail thumped. "Hale."
Cammie gasped. "Did you hear that?"
Einstein shook his head, "It was just the wind," he said, certain the deep rich sound that came from the dog was a trick of the wind. "There is no such thing as a witch," he repeated, but after a swallow of doubt.
The woman's eyes closed again and she seemed to nap. Her hands held a gnarled dark piece of wood, like a walking stick. She wore a red shirt under baggy rainbow colored overalls, which did seem odd for an old woman. Though she didn't really look old—not like Grandma's funny wrinkled face anyway.
The witch had no wrinkles. Dark cinnamon colored skin, as smooth as polished wood.
"She might be black," Einstein thought out loud. “Or maybe Indian.”
"She could be anything," Cammie whispered. Long gray and white hair piled up in a bun, wisps of it stuck out all over. Like a misty halo.
"She's smiling in her sleep," Einstein said.
"Like a dolphin smile," Cammie added. "Oh, but doesn't her dog look so big and furry and lovable!"
Einstein always dreamed of having a dog, a big, furry, wonderful dog. "I wish we could have a dog."
"Mom says maybe next year."
"That's what she said last year and the year before," Einstein said. "It's not a good sign."
Cammie shook her head. "No, I guess not."
The sun began to set over the mountains and the wilderness area bordering the park. A warm breeze rustled through the leaves of the towering eucalyptus trees in a haunting sad sound like distant wind chimes. The butterfly floated down the path that they were never allowed go on. The forbidden path.
The forbidden path went into the wilderness. No children could play there. The rec supervisor did not allow it. Moms didn't either. The forest had wild animals in it, real wild animals: mountain lions and coyotes that ate children and poisonous snakes that bit and made you die. Once a boy went down the path and never returned. No bones had been found either.
Too young to know the danger, Jaime chased after the butterfly. Cammie looked to her mother who was saying, "It's so terrible. Terrible isn't even the right word. It's worst than terrible..."
Her mom didn't notice Jaime's laughter floating with the butterfly further down the forbidden path. "We better get him!" Cammie and Einstein took off running. "Oh look!" Cammie saw, "The dog is coming!"
Cammie heard Jaime's laughter up ahead. Dried leaves crushed under their sneakers as they rushed toward the sound. Cammie stopped suddenly. Einstein rushed up behind her. They stared at the wonder of Jaime and the butterflies dancing in a stream of emerald sunlight.
How strange! The sunlight turned emerald as it filtered through the leaves of the trees. And the butterflies! Where did they all come from?
Jaime laughed gleefully as he turned in circles with uplifted arms. Large beautiful butterflies danced all around him. The children's eyes sparkled with pleasure at the enchanting sight.
"So! Do you think they will do?"
Cammie and Einstein swung around to see the Witch and her dog.
"Oh yes!" Bear Dog said. "They're perfect!"
"Nothing's perfect, certainly not humans, but I do like that little one. Look at him. How many butterflies did he charm?"
The great dog counted slowly. "Nine Merry. Jaime charmed nine."
The dog had such a sweet deep voice, like a girl and a man put together, but musical somehow. Cammie eyes lit with a smile, laughter bubbled in her throat. Until--
Until she realized dogs cannot talk.
"Nine!" Merry said, pleased. "A good number, a very good number. Do you know why, Einstein?"
Einstein went white in the face. He shook his head.
"Ah huh!" The old woman said, pleased. "So, you don't know everything! Nine is a good number, the best really, because three is the best number and nine is made of three threes. Of course three sets of nine would be even better, I suppose and twenty seven does make a nine if one adds the two digits together, but then it is all just silly superstition anyway, is it not, young Einstein?"
Einstein looked back at the dog, who nodded at Merry's reasoning in apparent agreement. "I heard the dog count to nine."
"Bear Dog can count to oh... about ten," Merry said, then admitted, "Though he's not a brilliant mathematician--"
"Not really brilliant at all," Bear Dog confessed.
"But he's good enough," Merry said, "Especially since nine is one less than ten and it's the best number, the right number, the exact number we were looking for. So! It all works out!"
"But dogs... can't talk," Einstein said weakly.
"Can't talk?" Merry questioned, "Now Einstein what do you do when you are presented with evidence that an assumption is wrong?"
Einstein looked from the old woman to the dog and back again in stark disbelief. Cammie stood perfectly still too, staring. He knew she had heard it too. "One should change the assumption, but--"
The old woman shook her head, "No buts allowed. Absolutely no buts allowed. They're no good to us. Please allow me the pleasure of introductions: I am Merry, just like a regular Mary but then not at all regular like that. Add an 'e' and two 'rr's and spin it like a merry go round and that's me! This is Bear Dog, my friend. Well! We have a long way to go. Come along children."
The children exchanged wide- eyed glances. One by one the butterflies turned around and started back down the path. Jaime laughed excitedly as he gave chase and disappeared further down the forbidden path. Clouds gathered in the sky, darkening in the few seconds they stared at them. The summer breeze turned to wind, which lifted Cammie's long pigtails as she called, "Jaime, Jaime! Go get Mom, Einstein!"
Cammie started to take off, but stopped when Merry said, "Your mother's gone. She asked me to watch over you until she got back."
Their mother gone? Cammie felt her heart start to pound hard and fast. Einstein leaned against her. Their mom would not leave them without telling them. "Where did she go?"
"She went on errands."
Einstein and Cammie exchanged frightened glances.
On the heels of a fearful pause, Cammie asked, "When will she be back?"
"When will she be back? How am I supposed to know that? How long do a mother's errands take?"
"Forever," Cammie breathed.
For their mother's errands always took forever, just forever: stopping here, going there, getting this, dropping off that, it took forever.
"Forever." Merry nodded at the amount, still watching the sky. "Just enough time."
"But when exactly will she be back?"
"Exactly? It's hard to say exactly when forever is."
The dog nodded in agreement again but noticed, "Merry look. The sky. We must be going."
Merry stared up at the sky.
"Can you make us fly?" Bear Dog asked.
Merry eyes darkened noticeably as she looked up. "Oh dear... The little one maybe but these," she pointed to the other two, "These children are too big and too heavy. We'll have to think of another way."
Einstein didn't believe this was happening. Their mom would not leave them without telling Cammie to watch Jaime. Dogs do not talk, and there was no such thing as a witch. It was just a dumb childhood myth and--"I don't believe you!" He started backing away. "I don't believe our mom would leave us with you!" He turned around, running back up the path.
"He doesn't believe in you, Merry," Bear Dog said.
"It does not hurt my feelings," Merry said like she meant it. "Without a doubt, doubt is a very good thing. Very good. Without doubt, these children would be believing all manner of wild tales, anything anybody told them. Why they might start thinking truth was more than just a made up word or a best guess! Without doubt, they could be made to do all manner of terrible things."
"Without a doubt," Bear Dog agreed completely, for Merry had told him of some of the terrible things humans did when someone stole their doubt.
Biting her lip, Cammie looked down the path where she heard Jaime's laughter, then up where Einstein had disappeared. It was all so strange, Merry and Bear Dog! And she needed to get Jaime.
Seeing Cammie's apprehension, Merry reached into her large rainbow pocket and withdrew a note. This she handed to Cammie. "Here go show Einstein this. We'll get Jaime."
Cammie read her mother's note:
My darlings:
Merry will watch over you while I do errands. And Cammie don't stare; it's rude, even when people are sleeping.
Love Mom.
Cammie found Einstein staring at the place where they had last seen their mom. "She's gone, Cammie. She left us."
"I know, I know. She wrote us this note. Here."
Einstein took the note and read:
My darlings:
Merry will watch over you while I do errands. And Einstein, Merry is a great coach! She will give you a few ball lessons.
Love Mom
"I must be dreaming," Einstein said.
The clouds gathered, growing darker and darker and the wind blew suddenly strong and fierce. A row of flittering butterflies danced back up the path. Jaime still chased them, laughing. Merry and Bear Dog emerged after him.
"I've got it!" Merry said, "Let's ask the butterflies for a lift. I'll just shrink everyone. Look how they all love the little one!"
"Shrink us?" Cammie asked, breathlessly. "Can you shrink us?"
"Of course I can. Shrinking is easy--it's just making do with less. Less is easier than more. In other words more is more of a trick than less. Less is less. Now or never. Grab hands everyone. Cammie pick up little Jaime and hold tight."
Yet the words sounded in a loud slow echo, like shouting at an echo hill. They began to shrink, clothes and all, they began to shrink. Dizziness washed over them, a side-effect of shrinking so fast.
Einstein stared at his shrinking sister. The grass, once neatly beneath her feet, now reached her knees. Now her waist. He turned his disbelieving gaze on himself, "I am dreaming," he whispered but even the whisper sounded far, far away. "I know I'm dreaming..."
Merry raised her arms and waved her stick in a wide arch against the darkening sky, laughing at her fine bit of magic. "Just remember young Einstein: Dreams are the place where wishes come true!"