Caution: Witch In Progress (10 page)

Gertie
awoke on Sunday morning with a little thrill of excitement. She was going home
next weekend for her Birthday! She would be ten years old. That sounded quite
grown up when you were only used to single figures. Gertie wondered if she
would feel any different. Probably not. Still, it was wonderful she could spend
her birthday with Ma, Gran, and Bertha.

    Gertie was full of herself chatting with Bertha over breakfast
about next weekend. Well, Gertie chatted while Bertha listened and ate. Bertha
was excited too, but showed it in different ways. Excitement made her hungry.
As did most things.

    Once breakfast was over and Bertha had headed back to bed for a
few hours to sleep breakfast off, Gertie wondered what to do with her day. Owl
was out already, so she decided to see how Wart was getting on with his
girlfriend. Crossing the moat, it suddenly occurred to Gertie that she still
hadn’t seen the moat monster. She decided there and then her task for today
would be to at least catch a glimpse of him. She remembered what Bertha said.
The moat monster lived mainly over the side of the moat overlooked by her room.
Gertie decided to head over to the side of the Academy where the blasted heath
was before going to see Wart.

    Gertie was soon peering hopefully into the moat looking for any
sign of the monster. She couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like a
monster. Slime, floating things, murky water, yes, but no monster. She sat down
cross legged and waited. Maybe he wasn’t up yet. Now and then she saw a few ripples,
but nothing more. Soon, Gertie began to get bored. She liked to be doing
something all the time. Being a determined little girl however, she stayed a
while longer. Just as she was considering giving up, she saw something green
and scaly break the surface. It then bobbed right back under the water again in
an instant. Feeling quite excited, Gertie called, ‘Hello!’

    There was no reply, nor any movement. She tried again.

    ‘Hello!’

    She could now make out a vague green shape under the murky
water.

    ‘Hello!’ she tried again, adding ‘Hello, Mr Monster!’

    The top of a scaly head broke the surface quite near to where
Gertie now stood waving, followed by two snake-like eyes and two nostrils. The
nostrils snorted in a disgusted way on spotting Gertie, and the monster sank
back into the water again.

    ‘Mr Monster!’ Gertie called. ‘Please come to say hello. MR
MONSTER!’ she shouted even louder.

    The head surfaced quickly this time, followed by quite a long neck
and thin shoulders.

    ‘Hello!’ called Gertie, excited at the sight.

    ‘Bog off,’ replied the monster sourly, sinking back into the
moat.

    Gertie frowned in surprise. ‘MR MONSTER,’ she shouted again.

    ‘WHAT?’ asked the monster, rising so quickly that stinky water
cascaded back into the moat with loud splashing noises. ‘You are becoming VERY
hard to ignore,’ he added in a grumpy voice.

    ‘Are you alright?’ asked Gertie in concern.

    ‘I WOULD BE IF SILLY LITTLE PEOPLE WOULD STOP SHOUTING FOR ME
AND ASKING ME SILLY LITTLE QUESTIONS,’ bellowed the monster in quite a nasty
way.

    ‘I think something must be bothering you,’ Gertie persisted.

    ‘Yes, it’s YOU,’ came the angry reply as water splashed again.

    ‘No, I mean really bothering you,’ replied Gertie, ‘or you wouldn’t
be so grumpy.’

    ‘Me? Grumpy?’ the moat monster asked. He raised his lidded eyes
skywards, then was quiet for a while. ‘Hm, I’m not usually stuck for something
to say. You’re strange though. And you look different. People don’t often pay
me much attention as a rule. Well, not any attention actually. If they do, a
bog off usually does the trick. I often get a similar reply in return, then off
they go.’ He stared at Gertie again.

    ‘Well?’ she asked.

    ‘Well what?’ he replied.

    ‘Is something troubling you?’ tried the little witch again.

    ‘Well, now that you mention it,’ replied the moat monster, ‘I do
have a pretty lousy stomach ache…’

    ‘There!’ replied Gertie, ‘I knew it.’

    ‘…most of the time actually’ he added, seeming to be enjoying
the attention now.

    ‘I can always tell,’ Gertie carried on. ‘No one is grumpy
without a good reason. Apart from Bat, but that’s just Bat.’

    ‘Who?’ asked the monster.

    ‘Never mind,’ replied Gertie, not wanting to explain why she had
a talking umbrella. ‘Just wait there a minute.’

    To her amazement, the monster did.

    Gertie soon returned with some leaves.

    ‘Here,’ she said, reaching her hand out to him and passing the
leaves over. ‘Chew these. They’ll make you feel better.’

    A green slimy hand ending in long sharp claws lifted from the
water and carefully took the leaves from Gertie.

    ‘But…’ the moat monster began. ‘They’re…leaves…’

    ‘Yes, I know,’ replied Gertie. ‘It’s just mint and a few other
herbs. Go on, don’t be a big softy. Chew them. You’ll feel better.’

    The monster stared again in horror at the leaves in his hand. ‘Promise?’
he asked.

    ‘Promise,’ reassured the little witch.

    The moat monster held his nostrils with one hand, threw the
leaves into his gaping mouth with the other, and began to chew madly, making
little noises of disgust. ‘Uhm, I suppose they don’t taste too bad,’ he decided
at last. He chewed in concentration, and swallowed. ‘OH!’ he said, looking
alarmed. ‘I was supposed to swallow them, wasn’t I?’

    ‘Yes, don’t worry,’ said Gertie with a smile.

    After a while looking deep in thought, the monster began to say,
‘I don’t feel any better…’ He then interrupted himself with a long, loud, rude
and rumbling noise that sent smelly bubbles rising to the surface of the moat
and popping. ‘oh, that’s better,’ he said finally. ‘Gosh thanks, Pipsqueak.’

    ‘Gertie,’ replied Gertie.

     No matter how often she reminded him of her name, from that day
forward the moat monster always addressed her as Pipsqueak. Gertie didn’t mind.
She knew, now, he wasn’t being nasty. Anyway, she guessed that to him, she was
a pipsqueak.

    ‘What’s your name?’ Gertie asked. ‘I can’t keep calling you Mr
Monster.’

    ‘Well, uhm, I’d rather not say,’ replied the monster evasively.

    ‘Why ever not?’ she asked. ‘Don’t you like your name?’

    ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Well, I guess it’s okay, but it’s not the
best name for a monster.’

    ‘What is it?’ Gertie coaxed. ‘Go on, you can tell me.’

    ‘Promise you won’t tell anyone?’ asked the monster.

    ‘Of course I won’t,’ Gertie promised. ‘And I’ll tell you a
secret too, so you’ll feel better. My name is actually Gertrude, but I don’t
like the ‘rude’ bit.’

    ‘Oh no, neither would I,’ the monster agreed. ‘Okay then. My
name is Mervin.’

    ‘That’s a very nice name,’ said Gertie.

    ‘Do you think so?’ asked Mervin.

    ‘Yes, it suits you. Mervin Moat Monster.’

    ‘Uhm. I never thought of it like that before. I guess it does
sort of have a ring to it.’ Mervin agreed. ‘Still, don’t tell all your friends.
Okay?’

    Gertie almost told him she only had one friend to tell, but
decided she didn’t need to mention it. She wouldn’t even tell Bertha if Mervin
wanted to keep his name secret.

    ‘Your name is our secret,’ said Gertie. ‘I’ll keep popping back
to see how your tummy is. Right now, I’m off to see my friend, Wart. He’s a
toad you see.’

    Mervin didn’t see, but said ‘Gee thanks. I do get stomach ache a
lot. Probably the stuff I eat in here. See you soon then, Pipsqueak!’

    Gertie waved, and headed towards the pond. She was very pleased
with herself because she had made a new friend, and he was nice. Well, he was
now. He might be a little embarrassing in company though.

    Gertie arrived at the pond in time to see Wart swimming around a
lily pad, obviously showing off. Sat in the middle of the lily pad, and
watching in admiration, was Wart’s friend. Gertie watched them for a few
minutes until Wart spotted her and headed over, without having to be called.
That pleased the little witch. Even though Wart had found himself a new friend,
he still wanted to be friends with her too.

    ‘Hello, Wart!’ she called in greeting. ‘And hello…er, now what
can I call you?’ she asked the smaller toad.

    Wart’s friend jumped off her lily pad and swam over too.

    ‘I know!’ decided Gertie all of a sudden. ‘I’ll call you Lily,
because that’s where you were sat. Do you like that, Wart?’ she asked, picking
him up for his stroke.

    ‘Croak,’ replied Wart.

    ‘Goody! That’s settled then.’

    Rather than sitting contentedly still for his stroke as Wart
usually did, he seemed very agitated today. He wriggled about a bit, and kept
looking down at Lily, who was in turn looking up at Gertie.

    ‘What is it, Wart?’ Gertie asked. She had the strongest feeling
that if Wart could, he would actually be pointing at Lily.

    ‘Do you want me to pick her up, Wart?’ Gertie asked, rather
confused.

    ‘Croak!’ said Wart in a higher tone.

    ‘But, Wart, you do remember what happened when I first stroked
you don’t you?’ Gertie asked. ‘You lost all your lovely warts.’

    ‘CROAK!!!!’ said Wart, even higher and louder.

    Gertie pondered a moment and stared at Lily, who had jumped out
of the pond and was staring up, anxiety in her bulbous eyes.

    ‘Do you want to lose your warts?’ Gertie finally asked the small
toad.

    Lily croaked for the first time. Wart was now wriggling madly.

    ‘Be careful, Wart!’ warned Gertie. ‘I don’t want to drop you.’

    Bending down, she crouched on the grass by the pond and put Wart
next to Lily. Gently, she reached out for Lily. The little toad leapt into her
hand so fast, Gertie almost missed catching her.

    ‘Are you sure?’ Gertie asked before beginning to stroke the
little toad.

    ‘Croak,’ agreed Lily.

    ‘Well, I’ll try,’ began Gertie. ‘But, things don’t always turn
out as I intend them to,’ she warned.

    Four black eyes stared at her expectantly as she looked from
Lily, to Wart, then back again.

    Closing her eyes to concentrate properly, Gertie began to gently
stroke Lily’s warty back. She then thought what Miss Fiendish had said about
circular widdershins movements. The young witch stroked Lily in little
circular, anticlockwise motions. Gertie thought Lily’s back was feeling
smoother under her touch, but didn’t want to check yet. She was afraid the
little toad might have turned pink, or something equally unexpected. Gertie
continued to stroke Lily’s back for a while longer, then stopped and placed
Wart’s friend back on the ground without even opening her eyes. She didn’t hear
any frantic croaking. Finally, she plucked up the courage for a peep. Wart and
Lily were hopping and capering about like mad things. Lily’s back was now as
silky smooth as Wart’s!

    Gertie clapped her hands in glee. She could get things right,
and it was all thanks to Miss Fiendish! She couldn’t wait to tell her. But no,
maybe she shouldn’t. Witches liked warts after all. Maybe it would be better if
she didn’t mention it. It could well be seen as another mistake. Oh dear. Life
could be so confusing for a nine year old witch. Soon to be ten, she corrected
herself. She decided to go back to see if Bertha was up yet, so they could talk
about their visit to Vile Vale next weekend for her Birthday.

    As Gertie approached the Academy, she heard the dinner gong being
sounded. Now she didn’t need to go in search of Bertha. She knew exactly where
she would be.

Gertie’s
next new lesson would be on Wednesday when everyone had to take their familiars
along to class with them. Gertie had a good long talk with Owl about it. She
asked him to be on his best behaviour, and in particular not to try to eat any
of the other familiars. The little witch knew for a fact that at least one of
the other pupils had a rat for their familiar. Owl was quite partial to rats
and mice on his night hunts. Not that he caught any unless they were already
dead. He never got to spot a moving one.

    Owl blinked at Gertie in understanding. Well, Gertie thought he
did. What was probably going through Owl’s mind was, what are you going on
about now? Just get on with the ear scratch. She began to scratch his ear.

    Gertie had another herbal class with Miss Fiendish early in the
week, which she enjoyed immensely. She also had another Voice class that she
didn’t enjoy at all. It wasn’t in Gertie’s nature to sound forceful. Maybe if
she was genuinely angry she could, but not in a make-believe way in class. It
all felt very silly to her.

    The rest of the time before Wednesday was set aside as study
periods for practising what they had already learned; and reading suggested
passages from books in the library. Bertha readily accepted them as rest
periods, and did just that. She depended on Gertie explaining what she should
have read to her.

    Gertie knew Bertha hadn’t taken to any class. They were all a
bit too much like hard work. Gertie tried to help her, and even insisted they
took a walk to the herb garden and wood together to try to get Bertha to
recognise some plants for Miss Fiendish’s class.

    Bertha agreed, as long as they didn’t have to walk very far.
Bertha’s idea of very far was quite a bit different to anyone else’s. She also
insisted on bringing biscuits along to give her energy. It all turned out to be
a bit of a waste of time as Bertha simply wasn’t interested. Gertie could point
out something as easy as an oak tree and tell Bertha what it was, and then two
minutes later the big girl had forgotten.

    Gertie decided Bertha would only pay enough attention to
remember a tree if it grew chocolate. She gave up.

    Passing the moat on the way back, Gertie spotted Mervin.

    ‘Hello Mer…Mer…’said Gertie again, remembering her promise and
thinking about Bertha walking next to her. ‘M…Moat Monster!’ she cunningly
changed his name to. Bertha didn’t seem to notice. Actually, she didn’t notice
much unless it was edible.

    ‘Hi, Pipsqueak!’ Mervin called back. ‘Say, any chance of more of
those leaves?’

    Bertha looked a little jealous that the moat monster was
actually talking to, and waving at, Gertie. She said she had never known him
talk to anyone, apart from in short phrases ending in ‘Off’. She told Gertie
she was tired and was going for a lie down, so Gertie scuttled off to get
Mervin his leaves. This became a regular occurrence. She soon began to get used
to his rude noises, at least his stomach must feel better without all that
trapped wind.

    Wednesday came quite quickly. Soon after breakfast a weird and
wonderful assortment of creatures walked, flew, crawled, slithered or were
carried, down the dark and dusty flagged corridors towards a large ground floor
classroom in the west wing. The pupils had quite a time preventing fights
breaking out as snarls, growls, hisses, squawks and the like resounded off the
thick stone walls.

    Mr Daemon was there early and first in the class, obviously to
prepare for any problems when the mixed assortment of familiars all met up in
the classroom. A few had seen each other before, here and there, but this was
the first time they had all been collected together in one room. Gertie had
heard it said that the initial Familiars class was always quite an experience.

    Gertie and Bertha arrived early too as usual, to grab those all
important desks at the back.

    ‘Hello, hello, come along and take a seat,’ called Mr Daemon. He
was a bit short for a warlock, and older than the other teachers. His hair was
almost gray. Surprisingly, he actually looked quite nice and cheerful. Those
were words that didn’t usually go together when talking about witches and
warlocks. Gertie decided she liked him, and smiled back as she took her seat.
Bertha was carrying Jasper. He could only manage a few steps before he lay down
wherever he happened to be at the time, panting in short gasps. Not unlike
Bertha. The name Gasper would probably have suited the dog better, a fact that
Fang had pointed out on several occasions.

    Owl sat quietly on Gertie’s shoulder, probably because he had no
idea where he was, or why. He didn’t seem to care much either. Gertie thought
he was quite a laid back sort of fellow, and trusted her not to lead him into
any harm. As a familiar, it should have been the other way round with Owl doing
the protecting; but Gertie decided no one had told Owl that.

    It wasn’t long before the room began to fill up. Gertie had
never seen such an odd assortment of creatures together in one place before.
There were several cats, toads, owls of various kinds, dogs, and a weird
assortment of very unusual creatures. All the familiars were quite well behaved
once in the class too, considering they were of so many kinds and sizes. Many
had a natural hatred of each other, such as the cats and dogs. Gertie soon
noticed that Mr Daemon seemed to be casting a spell on each one as it was
brought into the room. He was staring at them intently and muttering something,
anyway. Whatever it was, it was having the effect of stopping the creatures
from arguing, or in some cases trying to rip each other’s heads off. Gertie
decided Mr Daemon needn’t have bothered putting one on Owl. He couldn’t make
out anything in the room anyway. He was currently having a bit of a nod on her
shoulder.

    Jasper gave a small bark when he saw Malicia arrive with her
familiar, a large black cat. Jasper’s usual lazy nature combined with the spell
however meant that he couldn’t be bothered doing anything else.

    Diablo, Malicia’s familiar, gave Jasper a look of superior
disgust with his evil green eyes, then turned away. Jasper was below his
contempt. Diablo appeared to be as proud as his owner, and that was very proud.
They both spent most of their time with their noses well in the air. Not that
the word owner was perhaps the right one when talking about a cat, No one owned
a cat, and most especially a cat like Diablo. He looked like he had never
forgotten the fact that back in history, cats had once been worshipped as Gods.
Diablo obviously believed he still had the right to be.

    Fang followed soon after Malicia, as usual. They were two of a
kind. Fang had Vlad, his bat, with him. They both had the same dark spiteful
eyes. Fang was passing Ghoul’s desk, and happened to glance at what was on it.

    ‘What…is that’ he asked in disgust, spraying Ghoul as he spoke.

    ‘It’s a chameleon,’ replied Ghoul with pride.

    ‘So, why is it bright blue when it’s sat on your brown desk?’
asked Fang in a mocking tone.

    ‘Ah, well, there’s a story behind that…’ began Ghoul.

    Fang raised his eyes skywards, but stayed to listen anyway.

    ‘I felt really sorry for Charlie,’ continued Ghoul pointing at
his now yellow familiar, ‘because he could only ever change a few boring, dull
colours. He changes because of differences in temperature you know, or light,
and mood, he…’

    ‘AND?’ interrupted Fang, clearly not wanting a biology lesson.

    ‘R…Right,’ replied Ghoul, showing his fear of Fang. ‘Well, I
thought he might enjoy other colours too, so he could change to the colours of
his own choice. Anyway, I pestered my ma until she cast a spell on him. It
worked well, look!’ said Ghoul, pointing to his purple chameleon.

    ‘But, he’s supposed to be the colour of his surroundings as a
protective disguise, Dummy,’ snorted Fang.

    ‘I know,’ murmured Ghoul sheepishly. ‘But now, he has so many
colours to choose from, I think he gets a bit confused. I think he might be a
bit colour blind too…’ offered Ghoul by way of explanation.

    Fang took one last look of disgust at an orange Charlie with
yellow stripes, and then moved on to torment someone else.

    Fiendly had brought a huge spider called Boris. Gertie thought
it was probably poisonous. It certainly looked it.

    Clawd was proudly telling everyone that his rat had a special
sixth sense for death and disaster. Gertie thought it would be very depressing
to have him for a familiar.

    Nastassia placed a big jar containing a praying mantis carefully
on her desk. Gertie had seen him before, and knew he was called Killer.
Although it was an unusual name for an insect, Gertie soon began to see the
sense in it. Killer had one of the most evil glares she had ever seen. If
anyone passed too close to him, he turned his triangular shaped head towards
them, and gave them a terrible look with his huge bulbous eyes. Gertie didn’t
know anyone who hadn’t taken a step back when he did it. Pea green in colour,
and only four inches in length, Killer gave every appearance of being a very
small, trained assassin.

    The only creature in the room that Killer seemed to have any
fear of was Fang’s bat. Whenever Vlad was anywhere near, Killer kept well clear
and held his spiny front legs together as if praying not to be spotted. He
clearly did not like bats. Probably because of their known liking for the taste
of juicy praying mantis.

    Lucyfer had brought her myna bird, with its beak gagged by a
black silk cloth. Gertie knew why, as she had come across Minx before.

    About the most alarming familiar there, to Gertie anyway, was
Sly’s vulture. It was a small variety of vulture, black with silvery-white
patches near its wing tips, but it still looked quite fearsome compared to the
other familiars in the room. Gertie knew vultures had a nasty habit of waiting
for things to die, because they ate dead things. She had also heard that Victor
soon got tired of waiting, so had a habit of helping little things on their
way. She didn’t like Victor at all. Especially the way he seemed to be
assessing each other creature in the room as a potential next meal.

    Mr Daemon didn’t appear to be in any rush to start the lesson.
He looked around at everyone and waited patiently until they all settled down,
pupils and familiars alike.

    Finally, everyone grew bored with looking around at everyone
else’s creatures, and turned their attention to the new teacher.

    ‘He looks too old to teach,’ muttered Fang to Malicia. ‘Bet he
sleeps through half the class.’

    Mr Daemon looked over at Fang, and the young warlock must have
got the awful feeling that he had heard him, or simply knew what he had said.
He turned the brightest shade of red.

    Mr Daemon finally addressed the class.

    ‘Well hello, my eager young witches and warlocks. Welcome to
your first Familiars class. I’m pleased to see you have all remembered to bring
your friends,’ he paused with a rather pointy toothed grin. ‘I, as I think most
of you already know, am Mr Daemon, the oldest tutor at the Academy,’ he added,
looking right at Fang. ‘Do not let my appearance fool you. I am still a very
competent warlock. Probably more so now if truth be known, than I was in my
youth. You see, now I have many years of experience to add to my learned
skills.’ He paused to look at them all in turn, as if assessing them by look
alone. ‘This,’ he continued ‘is my familiar, Albert.’ Mr Daemon waved his hand
towards the old gray cat sat on his desk, ignoring everyone. ‘Do not
underestimate Albert either, even though I am sure he is the oldest familiar at
the Academy. He still has all his wits about him, and is a very fine familiar.’

    ‘Who in the right mind would call a familiar, Albert’ Gertie
heard Fang mutter under his breath. He then clearly wished he hadn’t as Mr
Daemon and Albert turned to look at him.

    Finally looking back at the class as a whole, Mr Daemon
continued to speak. Albert kept a steady stare on Fang, which seemed to unnerve
him.

    ‘As you will have noticed, your creatures are all behaving quite
well together.’

    A murmur of agreement went around the classroom. Gertie had been
surprised about the behaviour of their familiars.

    ‘That is because I cast a calming spell on each and every one as
you brought them into the room,’ Mr Daemon went on. ‘It is not a lasting
effect, and will do them no harm. It is simply to get them a little used to
each other in the first instance. Next time they all meet up, they will not be
as agitated by each other.’

    ‘I knew it must be something like that!’ whispered Gertie to
Bertha.

    Bertha looked like she had been struck by the calming spell
herself. She appeared half asleep.

    ‘Well then,’ announced Mr Daemon. ‘If we are all settled in now;
let the lesson begin!’

    Gertie leaned forward in her seat in anticipation. She was
beginning to think she would enjoy this lesson. At that point however, Owl fell
off her shoulder. He squawked, poked her in the eye with his flapping wing, and
landed heavily on her desk. Everyone who saw it laughed, apart from Mr Daemon
who quietened them down and asked if Owl was alright. Gertie was so busy trying
to calm Owl and gently stroking him that she didn’t reply.