The Witch's Market (7 page)

She wrote on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Here's Uncle Wang's address on Grand Canary. Please visit him. I'm sure he'll be very happy to meet a Chinese from America.”

“Thanks. I certainly will.”

She cast me a curious look. “But why do you want to see Uncle—to talk about volcanoes and UFOs?”

I smiled. “Ah, no. I heard he knows everything about this place and I want to learn more about the island for a book I am writing.”

“Yes, he knows all about that old history stuff.”

Glad to have gotten the address so easily, I left a big tip for Uncle Wang's niece and headed for the bus stop to go back to Heartbreak Castle.

8

Underground Witches

I
slept so deeply that when I awoke it was already noon. Maria fixed me a late breakfast and while I was gulping it down, she asked me what I wanted to do for the day. I'd actually been thinking about visiting the Witches' Market again, but it wasn't open today and I wasn't going to tell Maria about this anyway.

“Señor Alfrenso wants you to stay longer. I can tell he likes you.” She smiled mischievously.

I deliberately didn't ask how could she tell, but said, “Hmmm . . . I don't know what to think about this.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You think too much—not good for pretty young woman. Señor said stay, then you like to stay. No?”

I realized that I'd come to like staying in the castle and had no wish to go back to my hotel. Plus, staying at the castle was free.

“All right,” I laughed, “maybe I should. Maria, I'm sure Señor is just being hospitable to me.”

She shook her head. “I can tell by his eyes. He looks at you differently than he does other women.”

“He has many other women?”

“Of course, he's rich and not bad looking.”

I did not want to give Maria any more ideas, so I dropped the subject.

 

My recent adventures kept running through my mind—Maiden Fortress or Heartbreak Castle, Alfredo, Maria, the stone sculptor, the witches, the Chinese restaurant, even the white horse.... At moments I feared that all of these were but figments of my imagination.

Though I'd been on the island for only a few days, I had come to feel affection for the people I'd met. It was almost as if I'd lived here during a past life. But I was also apprehensive about staying. Though they seemed nice and harmless, I knew almost nothing about these people. They were strangers, after all, and belonged to a different culture.

I decided I would stay two or three more days at the most, then reconsider. That way I could see the stone sculptor and the witches again, and explore more of the castle. I wanted to know why the name of the castle had been changed from Maiden Fortress to Heartbreak and why Alfredo chose to live by himself in this strange place.

After finishing breakfast, I returned to my room and gathered up my flashlight, whistle, knife, camera, pen, notebook, and jacket. Then I went outside and began to stroll around the castle's stone walls, hoping the fresh air would relax me and help clear my mind.

In the distance, I spotted Lonely Star, the white horse, who trotted right up to me. I gently stroked his mane, then whispered in his ear, pleading for him to take me back to the old sculptor. I climbed on and a few minutes later he stopped, but not at the same place he'd taken me before. I alighted and climbed up a low rock wall, hoping to spot the sculptor. To my disappointment, the old man was nowhere to be seen. When I turned around, the white horse was gone as well. As before, he seemed to just disappear.

I continued to walk, still hoping to run into the old man. Under the pigeon gray sky the field was covered with ruins, of what sort of buildings I could not tell. Oddly shaped rocks seemed to resemble human faces, some happy, others sad. Bare branches formed artistic shapes like the elegant, but pained limbs of dancers. I found myself fascinated by this strange, nearly empty landscape. I wanted to stay longer in the castle so as to be able to fully explore its surroundings. But what if Alfredo and Maria were not as they seemed? I needed an escape plan.

I sat on a rock to rest while enjoying the desolate scene. I noticed a gap between some bushes and, underneath it, rocks circling what looked like a burrow. Curious, I went up and pushed aside the branches. As I looked down into the hole I was taken aback to see a ladder leading underground. As so often during the last few days, I could not help but wonder if I was just imagining things. But when I pressed on the ladder it was quite firm.

I knew it was foolish to climb down, but my curiosity overcame me and, despite all the strange experiences of the last few days, nothing bad had happened. In the back of my mind was the idea that the cave might be the home or studio of the old sculptor.

Gingerly I climbed down. When I reached level ground, it was quite dim, illuminated only by the light above. I could see large slabs of rocks arranged as chairs and table, but I couldn't walk far because it would be completely dark.

“Old señor, are you here?” I called out.

Silence.

I swung my flashlight around. Besides the table and chairs there was a large slab of stone on which was placed a thin mattress, blankets, and pillows. In an alcove was a stove with a propane tank, a stack of dishes, and cooking utensils. On a rickety wooden table were candles, piles of clothes, and a well-thumbed book. I shined my light on the book and could read “Herbs and Decoctions” on the cover. Was the old sculptor also an herbalist? Maybe he wanted to concoct his own elixir of immortality. I hoped so, for then he could sculpt even more of his beguiling figures. I took out my camera, turned on the flash, and snapped everything I could see.

“Anyone here?” I called again. “Old señor, it's me, the woman who bought your statues!”

My call was answered only by eerie echoes. I was beginning to feel very nervous, wondering who really lived in this place. I sensed a strange vibration—perhaps from the other realm—and decided it was time to leave. Just as I was about to head toward the ladder, I heard footsteps clambering down. Immediately I turned off my light and hid behind a boulder. When I saw their faces, I had to press my hand across my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

It was Cecily and the other three witches!

Once they alighted, they went over to the table and lit the candles. The space was immediately filled with flickering light, casting shadows across the wall like wandering ghosts. The four women sprawled on the rock seats, talking and laughing, while Cecily went to the stove, turning the valve to light it and producing a swoosh sound. She had brought a sack down the ladder with her and from it she produced some meat, carrots, and onions. With deft movements she sliced the meat, cut the vegetables, sprinkled them with herbs, and threw it all into a big metal pot.

Minutes later the space was filled with a mouthwatering aroma. After pushing away the blankets and pillows, the witches put plates, bowls, glasses, and condiments on the big slab of stone now used as a table. Soon they were eating and drinking ravenously as I watched and salivated. My stomach rumbled and I feared it would give me away, but they were too absorbed in their repast to hear.

I knew I couldn't possibly hide behind the boulder forever, so I gathered up my courage and walked out to show myself.

“Hello, everyone, sorry to intrude. . . .”

Cecily used her knife to point at me. “Who's this?”

“Please put your knife down. You know me—we've met twice.”

Finally recognizing me, they seemed to relax.

“All right,” Cecily said, and smiled, “you are welcome in my humble home, even though you are uninvited.” She pointed to a stone chair. “I remember you danced with us. Now have a seat and eat.”

The three other women shifted to make room for me.

“Maybe we should now properly introduce ourselves. You know I'm Cecily,” said the head witch. Then she pointed to the fortyish, big-boned woman next to her. “This is Lucia. And the tall ones are Mimi and her twin, Angie.”

“Glad to meet you all. I'm Eileen Chen.” I could tell my voice sounded stiff and nervous.

“Relax, Eileen, no one will harm you here. We only do healing and magic,” Cecily said.

“What about casting spells?” I asked.

“Of course, that too.”

I looked around, then asked, “Cecily, you really live here—underground?”

She cast me a condescending glance. “That's part of the tradition of witches. Do you know about the ancient Black School?”

I shook my head.

“They chose to live underground and I like the idea.”

I doubted this was the real reason she lived underground, but it wasn't the time to ask her.

Mimi and Angie continued to gape at me as if I'd just landed on earth from outer space. Our hostess poured me a glass of red wine, picked up a plate, and plopped a piece of meat onto it.

“Eat,” Cecily ordered, sounding just like all Chinese mothers and grandmothers.

With a rumbling stomach and no hesitation, I began to gulp my wine and shovel the meat and vegetables into my mouth.

“Are you Japanese?” Lucia asked, lifting beans into her red-painted mouth.

“No, I'm Chinese.”

“So you're a Chinese witch here to dance and dine with us. What an honor!” said Lucia.

“Why did you say that I'm a witch?”

She smiled. “My horoscope said I'll have a witch visit from the East, and here you are.”

I asked no one in particular, “Are you all witches?”

This time Cecily answered. “Yes, but there's no need to be afraid.”

But I was afraid, remembering how they had drugged me the last time we met. Cecily cast me a mischievous glance, then refilled my glass. “Relax, my friend, and have more wine.”

I took another sip and then immediately regretted it. Would I be drugged again?

As if reading my mind, Cecily said, “Don't worry, it's not poisoned. Our concoctions are only to heal.”

“So you do healing?”

“Of course. What do you think witches do? As I said, we heal, cast spells, tell fortunes, connect with nature. We celebrate life . . . and of course death as well, the other side of the coin.” She downed more wine, then added, “We're women of power and we'll make you one too.”

Women of power! But stuck living underground like homeless people?

“How do you make your living?” I asked.

Cecily flung her head back and laughed. “What a question! I'm not a homeless beggar, if that's what you think. I chose to have my home here, because it's close to nature.”

“Really?”

“My home is rooted in the ground and hidden from intruders by shrubs, not suspended in midair like those hideous glass and concrete skyscrapers! I am a free woman and I help others to be free.”

“Who are your customers?”

“They're all over. We travel for house calls.”

“Do you have a phone here?” I cast a suspicious glance around the place.

She laughed again. “Ha! Those who need me can find me. Anyway, Lucia, Angie, and Mimi all have their own places and phones, so sometimes they book appointments for me. And people meet us at the Witches' Market where we sell the stuff that we make.”

I felt more and more intrigued by these self-proclaimed witches.

Soon we finished eating and plates, knives, and forks were moved away and washed in a small bucket. Despite my curiosity, I thought I should leave while there was still some light outside.

I stood up, and said to the women, “Thanks for the delicious food. I should leave.”

“No, you're not going anywhere,” Cecily said, her face serious.

“What?” I asked, and my heart started to pound.

“Yes, stay with us,” Angie and Mimi both chimed in high-pitched tones.

“Since you came uninvited into my place, you should join us for our ritual,” their boss added.

She ignored my protests and went on to light more candles, arranging them in a circle. Lucia, Angie, and Mimi spread out dishes of herbs, a bowl of water, a plate of salt, then placed a thick candle in the middle. Then the two twins grabbed my hands and pulled me into the circle. I was too scared to try to escape.

Cecily lit incense and led us first in whispered prayers and then silent meditation. Ten minutes later, she announced in a resonant voice, quite different from her usual tone, “Now I'll call upon Baal, Belial, Astaroth, Orias . . . and all the spirits of earth and sky and the four elements to sanctify this circle of light.”

She dissolved salt into the water and sprinkled it inside the circle. Next she picked up the candle and called on fire. Then she shook a small bell to call on metal.

After the rather ominous-sounding invocation, the four women began to chant some unintelligible words and danced around as if controlled by some unseen force—a good or evil force I couldn't be sure of, but I was drawn into its vibrations and found my legs and arms swaying as I joined their dance.

I don't know how much time passed before the witches slowed down and we all seemed to come out of our collective trance. Cecily motioned for us to sit and called us to another silent meditation.

When finished, wiping sweat from my forehead, I asked, “What is this ritual for?”

“Purification and illumination.”

That didn't really explain anything, but at least I was still conscious, so they hadn't drugged my wine or cast a spell on me.

I realized that it was dark out now and I was worried about finding my way back to the castle, so I thanked Cecily for the food and the dance but told her I had to leave.

“Why not stay with us for a day or two? There is enough space for everyone,” Lucia said.

There was room—but only if everyone was going to sleep on the ground.

“I need to get back.”

“Stay, so we can exchange knowledge,” Cecily said matter-of-factly.

“Knowledge of what?”

“Witchcraft, of course. Where do you live?”

“The Maiden Fortress.” Somehow I didn't have the heart to use the castle's other name, fearing that I might divulge some secret tragedy.

Cecily scoffed. “You mean the Heartbreak Castle? I figured. Lucky girl, how do you know the owner?”