Autumn Calling (10 page)

“Sully. Did you do that?” she said angrily.
His sad looking eyes looked at her finger then to the table leg and
back to her as if to say, “Uh, yup.”

“No chewing on the furniture, Sully. That’s
a bad dog,” she reprimanded, tripping over a chew bone and a triple
knotted rope. “It’s not like you don’t have things to chew on,” she
said, picking up the toys that littered the area and depositing
them into a heavy duty canvas bucket she’d found at a garage sale.
It looked to her like it could handle some serious chewing; at
least more than the grapevine basket that held Sully’s toys before
that was more or less a nub of twigs after he got done with it.

As she was picking up things, she found a
book that looked like the back of a porcupine, as well as her
favorite sunglasses that disappeared. At least she thought they
were the remnants of her sunglasses.

She stood with the evidence in hand and one
hand on her hip in front of the obvious perpetrator.

“What is this?” she said, holding the items
in front of him. “Did you do this too?” she scolded. He cocked his
head to the right, perking up his ears, and then licked her toes as
if to apologize.

“I like kisses, Sully. That’s a good dog,
but this,” she shook the mutilated book and sunglasses, “This is
not all right. Don’t chew on my stuff, Sully. Okay?”

He wagged his tail as his tongue hung out
over his lower canines, and she couldn’t help herself; she patted
him on the head. Sully had her wrapped around his dewclaw, and he
and she both knew it. All he had to do was lick her or flash a sad
face, and she melted. Of course, he had a perpetual sad face on all
the time, so he basically got whatever he wanted.

When she finished cleaning up Sully’s toys,
he ran over to the bucket and started retrieving the items as if it
were great fun to re-scatter them about the room. Summer ignored
him, curled up on the couch, and read her emails for the morning as
she sipped coffee.

She often received funny antidotes or comics
from Sister Margaret, so she didn’t think twice when she saw her
name in her inbox. She clicked on the name only to find a short
letter to her.

“My dear Summer. You know I love you
dearly.”

Oh, no. Whenever Sister Margaret started a
sentence with “You know I love you dearly,” there was always a
“but” to follow with some kind of reprimand.

Summer continued reading. “But I felt it
necessary to intervene in this squabble you and Victoria have
concocted. In my opinion, your actions are very unlike you. Why
would you not find the time to visit your best friend in the
hospital? Didn’t the sisters and I teach you better than that? I’ve
never known you to be unsympathetic to those in need. I just don’t
understand this change in you. Have you forgotten our teachings?
God would be very disappointed in you, my child. I think he’d want
you to mend your fences and repent for your misdeeds.”

“I expect to hear happy tidings next time I
speak with Victoria, instead of the sad scuttlebutt of our last
communications. I hope you will agree.”

“In all things glory be to God.”

“Sister Margaret.”

“Oh boy,” Summer thought. Tori must have
given the sister an earful. She hadn’t expected that, but she
didn’t know what the fallout would be of her exaggerated
falsification. It brought the wound it had made to the forefront
yet again, and made her heart ache. She hated having to be away
from Tori, but she still felt she was doing the right thing in
keeping her at arm’s length. Her best friend would not find herself
in the hospital again just for associating with her.

She shut her laptop with a click and headed
to lessons with Aunt Myrtle.

Aunt Myrtle was full of energy that morning
as Summer joined her for lessons.

“My dear Summer, what would you like to
learn today?”

“I get to pick?”

“Why not? We’ve covered most of the
mandatory battle stuff. Seems like you should try something that
interests you, though I must insist you still practice your wards,
fireballs, and elemental thurmagy in case of an attack.”

“How do I pick?”

“You can go through the grimoire, if you
like, or just tell me what you’d like to learn.”

“It sounds silly, and Morti seemed mortified
when I mentioned it, but it would be amazing to fly.”

“ Don’t let Mortimer intimidate you. When he
was a boy he did all kinds of crazy things and experiments. He’d
like you to believe he’s all business, but he was not always that
way. He’s flown a few times, though it did not end well for him.
Your grandmother and I, on the other hand, had a much better time
of it.”

“Really? You and Ivy flew.”

“Of course. What witch doesn’t want to try
her hand at flying?”

Summer was so relieved by this, especially
after Morti had been so negative at the mere mention of such a
thing.

“First you need to choose your means of
flying.”

“And that means…what?”

“Well, we don’t sprout wings my dear,
although I’m sure there’s a potion for that somewhere in the
grimoire. No, the way Ivy and I flew was to enchant an item.
Mortimer, on the other hand, decided that was not how to do it and
that the flying came from within. He was wrong.”

“What did you choose as your means?” Summer
asked.

“I chose a bicycle. Think Miss Gulch in the
Wizard of Oz. It gives one an actual seat for comfort and the
ability of steering, whereas a broom has no mechanism of the
sort.”

“Good point.”

“We thought so, Ivy and I.”

“I suppose a car is out of the
question?”

“If you’re going to use a car, then just use
it. It doesn’t need to fly.”

“Well, I was thinking if I wanted Sully with
me.”

“Ah, yes. That is a problem. That’s why most
witches have smaller familiars than a hellhound. But we hellhound
lovers have to stick together, right?”

“Right. My first thought was a big comfy
chair, like a recliner.”

“Nice, however, there’s the steering
issue.”

“True. Hmm. Can I think about it?”

“Of course, my dear. In the meantime, we’ll
make the enchantment potion for whatever you decide on.” Aunt
Myrtle licked her thumb and quickly flipped through the pages of
her grimoire. “Ah, here we go. Here’s a list of items we’ll need.
Better chop those herbs or we’ll be here all day. It takes a while
to boil it down, so chop chop.”

Summer laughed as she quickly jotted down
the ingredients and high-tailed it out of the kitchen to collect
the items they needed. She hadn’t been so excited and delighted in,
well, she couldn’t remember how long. Everything had been so “doom
and gloom” since she had found out the truth about her family and
their entanglement with the Macabres. It felt good. This gave her a
light at the end of the tunnel. Well, this and Daniel. She couldn’t
imagine her life without him. He’d been her go-to person for
strength, comfort, and friendship, something she’d always received
in the past from Tori. Daniel had been a godsend, and she was
falling hard for the gorgeous fallen angel.

When she returned to the kitchen with all
her ingredients, Aunt Myrtle showed her the proper techniques for
preparing the potion and getting it settled into the cauldron for a
good long boil. The pot rumbled with bubbles, and steam swirled
upwards in a spiral before evaporating and disappearing from sight.
The potion itself smelled good. Not something one would eat, but
aromatically titillating. Rosemary was the most prominent scent,
but the other herbs and ingredients could be detected if one were
so inclined to try and decipher its contents. Though she felt sure
a normal person would not suspect the tongue of a toad, or the toe
nail of a hippopotamus, among other things.

It was purple in color and odd things bobbed
around on the surface. She enjoyed potion making. There was often a
time to sit and talk, or prepare later additions. She and Aunt
Myrtle had become quite close. She was a sweet old woman, and
knowledgeable of so many different things. She certainly had seen
her share of sadness and death in her time, but despite it all, she
could still laugh and enjoy life. Summer thought back on her first
dealings with Aunt Myrtle, when she only knew her as the scary,
rather crabby looking lady who stared at her from her bedroom
window as she regained control of the overgrown mess of the herb
garden. Things had certainly changed.

“Good now. We just wait for this to boil
down. Might be an hour or so.”

“When do we add the ermine fur?”

“That’s the final task.”

“Do I need to do anything to prepare
it?”

“No, though sometimes out of boredom from
waiting, I chop it up a bit.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Mortimer received
a note from Hunter. He says he’s got news and is flying back the
end of this week.”

“Is the news good?”

“He didn’t say.”

“I’m sure Jackson will be glad to come
home.”

“I don’t believe he is coming back with
Hunter. Word is he’s staying indefinitely. Something about his
family.”

“Oh,” Summer said, wondering if all was okay
and if Nick would blame her for Jackson’s decision to stay.

“Why? Was there something between you and
Jackson?”

“No, not really, I mean we had a date or
two, but it was too early to tell before he went to Japan. Besides
I’ve found someone else to spend time with.”

“I see. I’m glad to hear you have
someone.”

“Me, too. He’s very special.”

“Special is ALWAYS good in my book,
especially when your face brightens at the very mention of
him.”

“Does it?” Summer blushed and raised a hand
to her cheek.

“I remember that feeling. My Robert made me
feel that way too,” Aunt Myrtle said, with such sadness that it
made Summer’s heart ache.

A tear slid down Myrtle’s cheek before she
smiled, wiped it away and said, “Now enough of that drivel. I was
thinking for tomorrow’s potion, we should do a ‘growth inducer.’ I
like to use these when I have a need for an herb that hasn’t been
sown yet, but I’m in need of its seeds. It’s just a little time
saver, although if you wait, the seeds are much better allowed to
grow in their own time. Magic can’t always replace what good ol’
Mother Nature and time can offer.”

“Sounds amazing. Can’t wait for
tomorrow.”

“Now that’s what every teacher wants to
hear,” Aunt Myrtle said with a big smile.

* * *

With a vial of purple furry goo in hand,
Summer went in search of something to enchant. There was small
barn-like building on the grounds that served as a garage for Aunt
Myrtle. A dusty old Studebaker rested inside, so thick with dust
the color was not easily decipherable. It looked like something
Fozzy Bear drove in a Muppets movie, with its round bullet looking
nose and smiling grill.

She could almost see a younger version of
Aunt Myrtle and her sister Ivy tooling down the road, the wind
whipping through their girlish 1950’s hairdos, laughing like they
hadn’t a care in the world.

There was a broken-down motor bike that
maybe Uncle Mortimer had once ridden. Its front tire was missing,
and parts had been removed and fanned out from the vehicle as if
someone were trying to find what ailed it. There were pieces of
beat-up and worn-out furniture that time had not been kind to, and
who knew what critters now called them home. Summer found it
fascinating. It smelled of old grease, stale earth, and mildew
inside the barn, and Summer couldn’t help but think of all the
memories and stories each orphaned trinket deposited here could
offer if it could speak.

Several pieces of what Summer could only
suppose were tractor attachments were strewn around and rusted
beyond repair, though she never did find a tractor. There was also
a long abandoned area where herbs and dried leaves hung in bunches
from the eaves above, covered in blankets of cobwebs. This must
have been where Aunt Myrtle dried her herbs during the winter
before she stopped maintaining the garden.

What a treasure trove of items she gazed
upon: mason jars of preserves long past their goodness date, coffee
cans of screws and nuts, and one container of pennies that weighed
a ton. She could have spent the entire day in here perusing the
discarded litter, but she was here –on a mission to find something
to enchant.

Under an old horse blanket was a bicycle.
She wondered if it was the one Aunt Myrtle said she enchanted and
flew with her sister. It had spot rust, but all in all, it was in
pretty good condition considering its age. She would use that as a
last resort, not wanting to take away from Myrtle and Ivy’s fun on
the bike. She could also find a tire for the motor bike, though it
would be better if it had all its parts in place. She came across a
push scooter that might work in a pinch, though there was no taking
Sully for a ride on it.

In a dark corner near the hanging herbs she
saw hay bales with something strangely shaped under an ancient
holey blue tarp. She grabbed one corner and lifted it to find an
old tricycle made for an adult. It was dusty, but otherwise in
excellent condition. It looked as if it had once had a large basket
on the back, if one were so inclined as to bring groceries home
from shopping. It was kind of cool-looking. She hopped on the bale
and rolled it down so she could get a better look at it. She could
bolt a piece of wood where the basket was, and it would be a
perfect platform for Sully to sit behind her for a ride.

After giving it a good bath and pumping up
the brittle, cracked tires with an old bike pump, she checked with
Aunt Myrtle if it was okay to use.

“I think it’s perfect,” she said inspecting
it from her perch on the porch. “Now, when you’re ready, here is
the incantation you must recite to make the magic in the potion
activate.” She handed her a piece of paper rolled up like a small
scroll.