The Little Witch sprinted towards the car parked at the curb in front of the pet shop where the house owner and her family of two boys were picking their pet dog up from its haircut. The Little Witch didn’t see the point of it, she figured if nature had given the animal that length of hair, he must be OK with it. But it was a hot summer and sporting a coat of fur might be a challenge for the poor animal.

Anyway, the dog’s haircut gave her a chance at getting a ride back from dropping her broom off to the broom mechanic. The closed thrill circuit motor (more about the CTC Motor later) in her broom needed some fine-tuning. Something with the Thrill-Energy Exchange wasn’t quite right, and she preferred immediate full power availability not the splutter-cough before takeoff it was doing now. Since about 30 or 40 years a witch had to be a trained mechanic with the proper broom motor /computer skills in order to fix her own broom. With the introduction of CTC motors in brooms they could travel at 10 times the speed that they could before. The little witch guessed that was a good thing. She wasn’t sure.

Anyway, she had one task in front of her, to enter the car while the door was open, because if she missed the opportunity, she wasn’t getting a ride home. As she was only 3 inches tall and invisible to humans she wasn’t going to be able to just reach out and enter the car herself if it closed on her.

Well, of course, she could use her wand to cast a shrinking spell on the car and all its occupants, but there was always a certain level of risk with that, particularly when using spells on human beings that involved changing size. On the other hand, she could cast a spell which would freeze the car in time and she could have taken her time to enter the car and find a comfortable place to sit. But that spell had its own risks. Occasionally things didn’t start up again after the spell was recalled, particularly when involving children under  ten years old. And there was one of those on hand. A witch had to be careful when casting spells on humans. They could be a bit unpredictable.

All these thoughts flew across her mind in about one second as she was sprinting for the open door of the car. The curbside passenger door had just seen the older boy, age, 12, the family dog, and the younger boy age 9 enter and the younger boy had his hand on the armrest pulling the door closed.

She was about five feet from the car door as it started closing— too far.

She wasn’t going to make it.

Ka-chunk. The sound of a closing car door met her ears as she slowed down to a discouraged stop. She watched expecting the car to pull away, resigning herself to a two hour walk on a hot day. Whatever did witches do before they had brooms, she wondered?

Suddenly from inside of the car came a shrill shriek that sounded like the older boy yelling something like “Shotgun — I get shotgun!” He threw his door open, jumped out, slammed his door closed and ran around to the front passenger door of the car just in front of the younger boy, who had apparently realized in the same moment he wanted the same front seat. Desperately. Or so it seemed to the Little Witch. It appeared to be an incomprehensibly strange ritual that made no sense to the uninformed onlooker, but commanded a total response from the participants.

The good news for the Little Witch was that the younger boy had exited the car in pursuit of the “Shotgun” and left his door open. The Little Witch walked in a relaxed way to the edge of the curb and hopped into the car easily. The only concern she had was the dog was still on the backseat area that she had just entered. She knew she was invisible to this particular breed of dog so that was not a problem. She just didn’t want to get stepped on. She maneuvered carefully around him to the far side of the backseat, climbed up the back of the seat and perched on the head rest, happy with her view of the inside and outside of the car.

She looked ahead out of the windshield of the car and saw the house owner reach back to close the curbside passenger door with her son had left open. Just before she reached back for the door, the little witch would have sworn she looked directly at her and their eyes locked for about half a second, but the house owner continued her task, to close the door. She somehow managed to quell the civil war that had erupted between her two boys, and started the car for the drive home.

Which was the Little Witch’s home also.

But perhaps we should start at the beginning.

Once upon a time not so long ago there was a little witch.

And when I say little I mean really Little. Like about three inches tall.

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Chapter 2  The Little Witch Has Panache

The Little Witch stood three inches tall with her hat on. Which was one of those traditional looking pointy black hats witches wear that makes them taller. Without her hat on she stood about two and a half inches tall or approximately 3 centimeters. This little witch was not traditional in most things, but she liked dressing in black. She didn’t know why, she just did. She felt dressing in black made her slinky. She liked that. And she liked that word to describe it, slinky. The little witch  loved unusual words, like slinky.

You could normally see the little witch with her main accessory, her broom. Which was actually not an accessory, it was like an extension of herself… like a very handy tool. That was why she wondered if the problem in performance it was having now was due to her becoming ill in the previous weeks. But more of that later.

So as far as her physical size was concerned, it’s clear she was little. But in terms of her spirit… Holy cow! That’s where she shown verrrry brightly. That’s where she excelled. That’s where she had panache. She had a spirit that those who knew her called fierce. If she’s your friend she’ll be there for you through thick and thin. You can count on her. But if you make her into an enemy… well in general it’s not a good idea to make people who know spells into enemies.

As far as her dress went she dressed pretty much in line with the traditional witch image. Which is black pointy hat, black ankle length gown, with long sleeves. She added white cuffs. The white cuffs were an exception and there was one more exception to the traditional witch look. The Little Witch wore a white rose.

There were two reasons why the little witch wore a white rose. And of course the white rose she wore had to have the correct shrinking spell cast over it, otherwise it would be way too big for her to wear. But she did that easily, it was never any problem to cast a shrinking spell over the white rose and then it was the perfect size for her to wear on her breast pocket.

The first reason why the little witch Wore a white rose on her breast pocket was it was a way of dressing that did not conform to the traditional witch ways. Our little which was a nonconformist. The white rose was a small but noticeable declaration of that.

The second reason why the little witch wore a white rose, was that it indicated she had something called panache. That was another word she loved.  She heard it the first time quite by accident while sitting on the flower one early evening right outside the window of the house where her garden was. There was a mom and her two sons who lived in that house, regular humans, and the mom was reading a story to her older son.

She remembered the story was about a famous swordsman and poet called Cyrano de Bergerac. This character Cyrano de Bergerac caught her attention as she listened, quite by accident, to the story. She really liked him. He was not only a bit of a rebel like her, he was great poet, and a great swordsman who was fierce and fearless in battle. She really liked that.

In the story the fierce and fearless  Cyrano wore a white scarf. The white scarf made him more visible to his possible enemies, and wearing it was dangerous. But he liked the look, and didn’t care about the danger. So the white scarf became a symbol for his bravery and style. The word “panache” was used in the story to describe this way of being stylishly fearless and so the little witch adopted the white rose for herself as a way of declaring to the world,

“I’ve got panache.”

Chapter 3

Home is Where the Flower Is

The little witch loved the house that she lived in. It was right in the middle of a big lush garden in the backyard of a human house on the edge of a middle sized city. It wasn’t actually a house by normal standards. It was a flower. The little witch lived in a flower.

The flower she lived in was about 5 inches across when it was open. It was a special flower and perfect for the little witch because it was the kind of flower that would open when the sun shined on it’s petals in the morning, and it would close again in the evening when the sun went down.

It was bright red on the outside and on the inside it was bright yellow. And it had something like a black branch right in the middle that she used for a clothes rack. The only problem was when she hung her clothes on that they tended to gather pollen from the flower. The pollen didn’t bother her but she had to shake her clothes out sometimes. If you are interested in the anatomy of a flower that little clothes rack is called the Pistil which is part of the stamen.

The little witch loved her flower-home. She thought it was a miracle that it opened each morning and closed at night without any spells involved.

“It’s just how nature works,” she thought to herself. “Amazing.”

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Chapter 4

Cats, Dogs, and Invisibility

The flower that the little witch lived in was right in the middle of a rather large, lush garden in the backyard of a one story house situated on the edge of town. The little witch felt a natural liking for the owner of that house, partially because of her attention to and support of this amazing garden which made up the little witch’s home turf.

The owner of the house was a middle-aged woman who lived together with her two sons. The little witch noticed  sometimes the boys were there at home, and sometimes they were gone for days at a time. Those would be the days the woman would work in the garden. She seemed to love the garden as much as the little witch did.   

The little witch had chosen this Garden to make her home because it had such wild exotic plants and flowers in it. Some of the flowers the little witch had never seen anywhere else. The big red flower that she called her home was a fairly common flower in the part of the world where this woman lived.

The other reason the little witch liked this particular woman and chose her garden to live in was because she had a funny feeling that the owner of the house, the gardener, knew of the little witch’s presence in her garden. Now the reason why that is unusual is because adult humans were normally completely unaware of the presence of witches. Adult human beings could look right at a normal sized witch and not see her. And normal size for a witch would be about 4 1/2 feet tall. Once the little witch became aware of that she started keeping track, and according to her calculations a human child somewhere around the age of seven or eight years old lost the ability of seeing her or any witch.

She was aware that she was visible to children younger than that, which at first made her a little nervous. But then she realized that if a young child would say something like, “hey Mommy!! I see a witch!” the adult that was with the child would just smile and say something like “oh that’s nice honey.”

Or they would appear slightly embarrassed and ignore it.

It had happened once when the boys were younger that the younger boy pointed right at her and said exactly that. “Hey Mommy! I see a witch!“ And the mother’s response startled the little witch. She said in return, “yes I know honey. She lives here too.”

And the boy said, “Does she know magic?! “

And the boy’s mother said, “I”m not sure. Probably.”

Then the boy’s mom said kind of abruptly, “hey let’s go inside for a snack. Would you like some cookies? “

Now anyone knowing young boys that age and their appetites would understand that the answer is pretty much always going to be a yes to that question. The little witch had the distinct feeling that the mother knew she was there in the garden and was protecting her by diverting her son’s attention. It was a unique experience and a very interesting feeling coming from a human being. The little witch liked it.

The little witch remembered distinctly the day that she had learned about her invisibility. It had been a very intense awakening. She had been walking around on the ground of the garden gathering up her favorite food – pinenuts. There was just the right kind of pine tree at the edge of the garden which would drop pinecones which would then roll slightly downhill so they didn’t stay in the garden but were close by. The little witch was very fond of harvesting those pinecones and taking the pinenuts. They made a fantastic lunch.

One day she was busy with that and didn’t notice the house owner’s dog coming to be fed. The owner had left the dog’s food bowl on the edge of the garden, which was a change of routine that caught her off guard. It quickly became a drastic situation because the little witch looked up suddenly to see a big beautiful Labrador drooling with hunger in anticipation of its lunch and bearing down on her as if she was that lunch. She had to really scramble to avoid being trampled and she got separated from her broom momentarily.

For a witch who’s out flying to be separated from her broom is a frightening experience. To top it all off she had left her wand in the flower, ignoring rule #1 for all witches: NEVER LEAVE HOME WITHOUT YOUR WAND. Even for short trips!

So the dog kept bearing down on her and she kept backing away frantically. Then she bumped into something that prevented any further escape and turned around quickly to see that she had bumped into the dog’s food bowl.  It towered over her like a small mountain. All of the pinenuts that she had gathered spilled out of her gown and rolled on the ground at her feet making it really difficult to stay upright.

Convinced the hungry dog was coming after her she thought, “Oh great! so this is how it all ends. I’m finished. My last moments on earth will be providing this dog with his lunch!“

As she stood there she watched the dog light into that lunch bowl right behind her as if he had not eaten for days. She was shaking like a leaf. She fancied she felt the Earth tremble beneath her with the vibrations of this dog in a storm of gleeful chomping swallowing it’s lunch almost whole. The little witch continued searching frantically for an escape route but found none. She had no way to defend herself with spells because she didn’t have her wand. Meanwhile she had to duck and dodge the dog’s paws as he wolfed down the food in his bowl. So she had to simply witness the Dog food disappearing expecting to be the next mouthful herself.

Then just as suddenly as the stormy encounter started the dog lost all interest in the food bowl as it was completely empty. He turned his back on the food bowl and the witch and simply loped off in search of a few pats on the head from his owner.

The little witch couldn’t believe it. She didn’t move because she felt like her feet were planted in the Earth and they wouldn’t budge. It was as if someone had cast a spell on her, but she knew there was no magic involved. She could hardly breathe but soon a wave of relief washed over her and all of the muscles in her small body that had tensed started to relax. She sat down abruptly on the ground, not by choice but as a result of her legs giving way.

She realized she had to get out of there before the dog returned, and finally she found the ability to move. Leaving all the pine nuts where they were she took a running leap and landed on her broom shouting the command “AWAY” and in an instant she was flying back to her flower.

Once in the flower she looked with regret at the wand that was lying where she had left it. “Okay okay,” she thought. A more dramatic lesson in upholding #1 of the 8 Rules of Conduct for Witches she couldn’t imagine. She saw the point. Traveling without her wand reduced her to having access to only a handful of spells called the wandless spells, and none of them could be used for self preservation.

She fixed herself a cup of tea using nothing but spells so she didn’t have to do much. Then she sat down in the middle of the flower and slowly drank the tea.

Slowly the realization of what had happened sank in. She had stood right in front of that ravenously hungry dog and been spared. Her brain was foggy but slowly she realized the dog hadn’t seen her. It wasn’t that he saw her and ignored her. He really hadn’t seen her. As if she didn’t exist for him. That was the only explanation for what happened. She was invisible to that dog. She was careful not to assume that all dogs couldn’t see her.

She started wondering …what other animals couldn’t see her … ? She had some research to do.

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Chapter 5

Picnics and Spells

You might think that all witches know spells. But that’s not true. Most know spells but there’s some witches that don’t. It depends on what kind of broom they have and what kind of wand. Some wands have all the spells stored inside the wand. Then the witch with that kind of wand doesn’t need to know any spells at all, she just has to point the wand with a certain intention and the wand does the rest.

Then on the other hand there’s some witches that know all the spells by heart. The little witch was that kind of witch. When that kind of witch wants to cast a spell,  she has to say the spell under her breath while pointing the wand in a particular way. In fact some people suggest that’s where the phrase “It’s all in the wrist” came from. To get those kind of spells to work the witch has to be very exact in her wrist movements while pointing the wand and reciting the spell. Particularly because it’s actually possible to have a spell backfire if the wrist movement is done wrongly. Witches don’t say backfired tho. If something goes wrong with a spell they say the witch had a “hatburn.”

That’s because legend has it that the first time a witch had a spell backfire, it caught her hat on fire. So they say the witch had a hatburn and every witch knows what that means. It’s a little known fact about witches.

You might be wondering what a spell is… A Spell is an expression of magic. It’s kind of how a witch would influence a situation either for her or a close friend so that it comes out right. Here’s an example of a witch’s spell: our little witch might be driving down the road on a beautiful day on a trip to the beach for a picnic. Witches sometimes like to drive instead of flying, and the little witch had a very nice car just her size. But more of that later. So while driving all of a sudden let’s say she gets a flat tire. Then she opens the back of the car up to get the spare tire but the spare tire is also flat.

So all of a sudden her beautiful sunny day for a picnic on the beach starts to look like she’s going to have to walk miles and miles on a hot day in order to see about fixing the tire. When she takes her car she leaves her broom at home.

In this situation being a witch all you have to do is take a little sidelong glance at that flat tire, wave your magic wand in exactly the right way, say some things under your breath while you’re waving your magic wand, and then watch the fun happen. Within a few minutes your flat tire will be just like new. Your witch’s spell has fixed the flat tire and saved the picnic on the beach. Some spells are harder to cast, and some are easy.

Some might be curious how magic works. For instance how does a witch cast a spell? Casting spells is a two-part process. Each witch learns very early in her life how to concentrate and use the earth’s energy. That’s step one, concentrating the energy. Casting a spell is concentrating and then “throwing” that energy with a certain intention. “Casting” is another way of saying “throwing.” So you could also say “throwing a spell.” But witches prefer to say casting. Casting the energy, or throwing it is step two.

The concentration part is done through the witch’s connection with the earth and the casting of the energy happens through the use of her wand. How the witch’s wand works is a mystery. There are several theories used to explain it, but they remain just attempts to explain the mystery by people using big words to explain magic. And in the end no one can explain magic. Magic is — well, magic. One can experience it, one can study it. If you’re a witch you can use it. But you can’t explain it.

Also if a regular human being found a witch’s wand (god forbid) and picked it up nothing much would happen. If it was the kind of wand that contained all the spells inside the wand it might splutter once or twice and then it would revert to just being the stick it looks like to the human. If it was a wand that requires the witch to say the spells herself absolutely nothing would happening, it would behave like any other stick on the ground. Which means not even a splutter.

There was one incident that happened with a witch’s wand that created quite a stir. The witch involved had difficulty remembering things, and she was constantly forgetting the spells. So she thought she would be clever and cast a spell on her wand that caused the wand to impart its knowledge of spells to whoever picked it up. That way all she needed to do was pick up her wand and all the spells were there at her fingertips, she didn’t need to remember them.

But it happened one time that she also forgot where she put her wand, and she lost it. It was found by a human being, who picked it up and suddenly had a complete knowledge of all the witch’s spells at her fingertips.

The results of that situation were disastrous and became notorious in witch history. It took about 100 years for the dust to settle, and some say there was even a world war started because of the actions of a human being with an active wand in her hand. It was so extreme that the list of 8 Witch’s Rules of Conduct which had only been 7 rules up to then had a rule added. Rule #8 is

NEVER PROGRAM YOUR WAND TO OPERATE WITHOUT YOUR PRESENCE.

Some humans became aware of the benefits of concentrating the earth’s energy and practice how to do it. But without a witch’s knowledge of magic and spells they have limited results. Plus they never discover how to get and use a wand.

Some humans study something called martial arts, and become quite good at energy concentration. They call the energy “chi.” A few even learn how to throw the energy in a crude kind of way. But a witch’s body is quite different than a human’s and it lets her relate to energy as magic. Which is as different as night and day. The energy concentration is one hundred times more powerful. Without a wand. If you add the wand in it’s difficult even to calculate.

It was the middle of summer when the flowers were the most fragrant and the trees were putting all their energy into growing and stretching towards the heaven. The little witch seemed to feel a very pleasant electricity in the air. She felt very lazy, but wide awake at the same time. She stretched out on her flower, looked up at the sky and thought, “It’s time I go for a little adventure.”

She was so taken by the lovely evening with it’s fragrant, moist air, sitting inside her bright red flower she didn’t notice the two big green eyes staring at her from under a broad leaf plant at the edge of the garden, tracking her every move with riveted attention. Those eyes belonged to the neighbor’s cat who lived three houses down on her street. The cat was flat on the ground with ears pinned back, in classic cat hunting posture, digging it’s claws into the earth, looking like it was getting ready to pounce! And the little witch looked to be the target. Luckily for her that was just when the last rays of sun disappeared and she was swallowed inside her flower home.

It’s a little known fact about cats that they are the only animal that can sometimes see witches, and other times not. There is a time window of approximately one hour before sunset to two hours after sunset that cats become enabled to see witches. It’s a complete mystery even to witches who know quite a bit about cats, how that works. But that is why the neighbor’s cat could spot and track the little witch right around sunset.

The little witch prepared for sleep, but before sleeping she had a premonition, a strong thought that something was not quite right, and it wouldn’t go away. The little witch had learned to pay attention to those kinds of thoughts that appear through intuition. Her premonition was that as she was settling into bedtime as usual she was being watched by two very large green eyes. She couldn’t see who they belonged to, they just sort of floated in the air, but definitely were very interested in her. Too interested. She got her wand, and wove a spell using very subtle movements of her wand while she whispered the spell, creating a pink cloud like an aura around her flower. Another witch would be able to see it, but otherwise it was invisible. It was a protection spell and it did not allow any negative influences to get close. And it rendered her invisible also, even to dogs. The spell allowed her to leave her flower, but nothing could enter, except the fresh, fragrant summer night’s air, which soon lulled her into a peaceful, deep sleep.

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Chapter 6

Outward Bound

Sunrise in her flower… What a glorious experience. The little witch awoke just about the time the first rays of the sun started hitting the flower. There was about 30 minutes that it took for the sun to reach a level where the whole flower was lit up with sunlight. By then the petals were all opened. The petals of the flower were bright red and translucent. When the sun hit them they lit up like bright red slowly moving searchlights, spreading the yellow sunlight mixed with the red of the petals inside the flower. It became a mixing bowl full of red, orange and yellow light moving and changing shapes. A light show extraordinaire. The little witch sometimes thought if everyone on earth could wake up inside a flower at sunrise each day the world would be a different place. It left one breathless with awe.

When the petals were all open she hopped out of bed remembering that today was her adventure day. She couldn’t wait. She planned a modest vacation, just one day out. Her broom was prepared and all she had to do was dress, make lunch, and jump into the sky.

Her plan was only to visit one place on earth, one of her favorites, Yellowstone National Park in the US. After that she had planned visits to a few planets in the solar system. She didn’t want to go far, but it would be a full day out. She figured to make a stop on her absolutely favorite planet next to earth, the moon. She had a couple of places she liked to sit and watch the Earth in it’s orbit in the infinite sky. The moon was the best place to do that. She figured that’s where she’d have lunch.

After dressing she went about preparing lunch, which was a couple of pine nut sandwiches with mayonnaise and fresh rucola from the garden below her flower. For dessert, she always packed a desert, she prepared her favorite, flower nectar mousse. She had gotten pretty handy at making it, but the challenge was packing it to travel. It had to be packed just so otherwise it ended up all over the place.

As the time drew closer to leave she unlocked the spell she had put on the flower the previous night. Then she double checked the energy level of the broom. It was fine, particularly since this was going to be a short trip. The broom had its own energy system plugged into the earth in a very simple way. But the main battery or source of energy for the broom was the little witch.

That was another one of those mysteries, but it wasn’t so complicated. The little witch like most witches felt a thrill whenever they hopped on their broom and started flying. I mean you can imagine, flying through the air like a bird on the wing, going wherever you wanted to go, as fast as you wanted to get there. That’s going to be a thrill for pretty much anybody.

The way the broom works is pure magic: as soon as the witch hops on the broom it’s like plugging it into a wall socket. What’s available through that connection instead of electricity, is the thrill, the excitement that the witch is feeling. That’s what powers the broom. The witch uses her ability to concentrate energy to magnify that thrill she feels times about 50. The resulting energy current that goes into the broom as she’s sitting on it is about 220 V of thrill energy. That’s charging the broom up as they fly. It simultaneously takes energy to fly, but it’s getting charged with energy from the witch while flying. It’s called the“closed thrill circuit”, known to broom mechanics as the CTC. The witch who invented that system is universally regarded as a genius and revered to this day even though it’s an ancient addition to witch culture. Witches today simply cannot imagine what it was like without the CTC system powering their brooms.

The little witch was ready to go. Her lunch was packed along with a dessert, she had an extra wool sweater for when she got outside of the Earth’s warm atmosphere. She called the broom, “HERE”, and within an instant the broom was waiting at her side hip high, slightly bobbing and pulsing with energy. She hopped on and with a resounding “AWAY!” she was speeding up to a comfortable half a mile of altitude and a lazy 500 mph. Not really cruising speed, but she wanted to take it slow and savor the journey. Next stop: Yellowstone.

*******

Chapter  7

Narrow Escape

After a couple of hours of lazily cruising and enjoying the sites she arrived at Yellowstone. She went straight to her favorite spot, one of the main geysers which shot superheated water up about 75 feet in the air.

Some people may have heard the gossip that witches can’t stand water. It’s one of those half truths that have confused the picture about witches for centuries. Witches can’t stand fresh water, but love salt water. They feel right at home swimming in the ocean. But fresh water is definitely a problem, and prolonged exposure to it causes severe injury and possibly death.

It’s something with their metabolism and the mineral make up of their bodies. They have a huge amount of sodium and magnesium in their bodies (salt) which is why they’re able to be conductors of so much electrical current. The amount of sodium and magnesium present means they’re very salty people. So much so that when they come into contact with fresh water it dissolves the salt and magnesium and pulls it out of their bodies. If that happens they start to look like they’re melting but it’s actually the salt and magnesium dissolving.

The water coming out of the geysers  is very salty, and provides a great hang out for witches. The little witch loved to let the salty spray wash over her and then lie in the sun next to the geyser. She was totally comfortable with the temperature of the water. Her small size shielded her from being noticed. Plus it was good to let her body be recharged from natural occurring minerals. It was like a breath of fresh air.

She passed the morning very pleasantly and felt totally relaxed being full of natural salt and magnesium. Then she  collected her lunch from where she left the broom and dug in to the pine nut sandwiches. Yummy. She thought maybe to save the dessert for a snack later… But she could never manage the idea. Five minutes after she was finished with the sandwiches she was digging into the flower nectar mousse. She had a weak spot for good desserts.

While eating the mousse she spotted a medium-size herd of elk slowly drifting across the grasslands. What a majestic animal with its wide spread of horns and huge muscular body. They exuded a silence which made her feel at home in the rough landscape. She had left the broom in a shady area, and she went there now to take a short nap, lulled to sleep by the sound of the water raining down from the geyser.

She awoke with her body tensed as she heard some furtive sounds from further down the rocks. She looked up and spotted a coyote, another natural resident of Yellowstone, walking slowly right towards her. His gait suggested he was totally relaxed and had not spotted her yet, so she decided to do a little experiment. She knew she was invisible to dogs. “Let’s see if I’m invisible to coyotes,” she thought.

She stood at the ready with one hand firmly on her broom which was poised and ready for flight. Both feet were planted firmly on the ground ready to jump while she waited for the coyote to come close and see her. The coyote walked within a few feet of her and didn’t even glance in her direction. He just kept walking. Knowing coyotes to be tricky animals she didn’t take her eyes off him until he was well on his way. “So,” she thought to herself, “another one to add to the list of animals that don’t see me.”

Then she had a premonition and heard her inner voice whisper,“LOOK UP. NOW!” She looked up to see the narrow eyes of a second coyote hidden behind the rocks above her getting ready to pounce. Without losing a second she hopped on the broom at the same time yelling the command “AWAY!” The coyote jumped hoping to grab the little black morsel for lunch, but he was two seconds too late.

The little witch looked down from her height of 20 feet that she had reached in about a 10th of a second in time to see the first coyote had circled back and was there ready to help trap the prey. His relaxed walk by had been a complete ruse. He looked up irritated and puzzled at how something that appeared to him as a good sized mouse turned out to be something more like a small bird that could fly.

She thought to herself , “Not today, clever friends. Good to know that’s one more animal that sees me.” As she was flying away she thought, “Nature is amazing, it’s neither friendly nor unfriendly. It just is full of wonders.”

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Chapter 8

Cardimom, Ginger and Sugar

The little witch decided to make one more stop on earth before flying to the moon. She set her course for Mount Everest, the tallest mountain in the world. It was located in a country called Nepal which was north of India and shared a border with a mysterious Asian country called Tibet. She’d been to Nepal once before and loved it. She turned up the Closed Thrill Circuit on the broom and held on tight while the broom streaked across the Atlantic Ocean. Estimated travel time to destination: about an hour.

As she neared her destination she remembered another spot that she had really enjoyed close by to Mount Everest. It was the main city closest to the mountain called Kathmandu. She decided spur of the moment to pay a little visit to Kathmandu. After all what were plans for except to change?

She slowed the broom down to a crawl and flew into the downtown area of Kathmandu. She chose a place in an alley behind one of the hotels to park the broom. It was right next to several other brooms and it fit right in if you ignored the fact that it was only 5 inches long. She set the alarm so that if anybody touched it she would intuitively know immediately. She then went out on the street and just took in the sights and smells and sounds of Kathmandu which was a crazy mixing pot of cultures.

Nepal is a country that existed for centuries in the Asian traditions of eastern religion and in the context of a government that was a kingdom, not a democracy. Then in the 1960s and 70s many Westerners seeking alternative religion and lifestyle not only visited Kathmandu but moved in permanently. They brought their music and their cuisine and their social traditions with them and the resulting mix is part hilarious, part fascinating.

Walking down any street downtown one can hear both traditional eastern music from North India or Nepal coming from the Café‘s, or a heady mix of Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley coexisting side-by-side. The same can be said for the food, a mix of eastern and western traditions.

The little witch followed the strains of one of her favorite musicians, Bob Marley to it’s source — a Café right on the street. Then she took out her wand and pointed it at herself. She cast a spell on her self that would change her appearance to a grown-up size human being. To any other human she would appear an average height and size. She sat herself at a table in the café and ordered something called chai, which was the name the Nepalese gave to their daily tea. She loved the way they prepared it with black tea, cardimom, ginger, milk, and sugar, it was really worth the trip just to have a cup of that exotic brew.

She drank very small sips because the spell only changed her body’s appearance it did not change the actual reality of her body only being 2 inches tall. So a very small sip of tea was a mouthful for her. And unfortunately she could only swallow a few gulps.

While Bob Marley played on the sound system there were two Indian musicians who were going to play a classical Indian concert setting up in a corner. A big smile of pleasure crept across her face as she enjoyed her spiced tea watching the fascinating scene. She contemplated the idea of staying for the concert but realized quickly she needed to remember her deadline. When that sun went down over her garden she had to be at home. Otherwise she would be locked out of her flower.

She drank as much chai as she could and was ready to leave. She took her wand out and levitated the tea cup, which was taller than she was in reality, down to the floor where a nearby dog found it and finished it off. At least it didn’t go to waste. She took a small gold coin out of her pocket and left it on the table as she left.

Returning to her broom she canceled the spell creating her false stature, being sure she did so when no one was looking. She walked back to the broom to find it exactly where she left it. She then canceled the alarm, got on and with a very clear clarion call, “AWAY” she sped off direction Mt.  Everest.

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Chapter  9

The Highest Mountain in the World

The little witch had visited Kathmandu before. It wasn’t her first time. But she had never gone to visit Mount Everest.  After 10 minutes of flying she covered the 100 miles to the base of the mountain. She slowed the broom down and began her ascent by starting around the mountain in a big circle. She wanted to go slowly and really take in the shape and size of the mountain and it’s different features. It was huge.

And it was covered with snow. She noticed the main path that went up the mountain side and circled around it’s way up to the top. At least she assumed it went to the top. She couldn’t really see because the top of the mountain was not visible. There was a layer of thick clouds that swirled around about midway up the mountain. She flew directly into them on the way up to the peak. She planned to have a little rest there using her wool sweater to protect from the cold.

Once she entered the clouds she realized how thick they were, and that she couldn’t see more than 5 feet ahead of her. So she slowed down and went carefully. She gave all her attention to orienting herself to keep a certain distance between herself and the side of the mountain. She didn’t want to get too close and crash into it. While her attention was focused on that she also became aware of the sound of air rushing through a wingspan of feathers. She looked up in time to see a dark shape hurtling towards her at an incredible speed. She darted to the right just missing the talons of a bird of prey about ten times her size.

In an instant she assessed what it was. It was an eagle called the Golden Eagle, which could be found in Nepal also near the base of the mountain, and it was a very aggressive hunter. And it had identified her as its prey. It was an unfortunate situation for the eagle because if it succeeded in capturing her it wouldn’t take more than one bite to realize it had made a mistake. But of course by that time it would be too late for the little witch. She thought to herself, “Add the Golden Eagle to the list of animals who can see me.”

Memories of previous instances of being hunted by birds of prey came to her. What she often did that was very effective was create an image of herself as the bird’s predator. With the use of her wand she could easily project that image into the bird’s mind and often it had an immediate effect. The bird would simply turn around and fly away.

This bird was pretty high up the food chain however, and didn’t have any natural predators as an adult bird.

It was not a common problem for witches. It was only because of her diminutive size that she appeared as food for the larger birds. So to compensate she had done plenty of research on birds of prey and their predators, and that’s how she knew this one had no predators.

She heard that sound again of the wind rushing through the eagle’s wingspan and knew the big bird was coming around for another attack. The little witch did not want to hurt this beautiful specimen of the wilderness but she needed to stop these attacks.

She suddenly remembered a different strategy that had been quite successful in similar situations. She drew her wand and in half a second had focused it on the attacking eagle while she whispered the spell. Instantly the spell projected the experience of being sprayed by a skunk into the poor eagle’s mind. The Eagle stopped on a dime turned around and flew in the other direction. In 30 minutes the effects of the spell would wear off.

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Chapter  10

Inner Space

She continued her flight up the mountain side and realized this was no ordinary mountain. It was so huge it had its own separate climates in various different parts. She continued to fly up the side of the mountain until the air was so thin it became a challenge to get enough in each breath. That was one of the main challenges of anyone who decided to scale this mountain. She had an advantage because she was plugged in a little more directly to the earth’s energy.

With no more mishaps she arrived at the top. She parked the broom, got out her little sitting mat and chose a spot that was still in the sun to sit down. She allowed the rhythm of this unique spot on earth to work on her. She closed her eyes and listened, allowing the silence to penetrate her deeply. There was a slight wind which only deepened the silence.

Her main experience was becoming more and more aware of the immense space around her. She became aware that there was a corresponding space as large and vast inside her. She put on her wool sweater. She was toasty warm in the frigid environment. Because of all of the salt in a witch’s body they are less affected by cold weather. When salt is present in water the point at which it freezes becomes colder. The more salt, the lower the temperature it needs to freeze.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to disappear into the stark silent landscape. When she finally woke again she had lost track of the time. She felt completely silent inside, as if she were floating, completely connected to the Earth, but floating above it at the same time.

A cup of hot tea appear to float before her. She took the hint and decided to fly back down and get one more hot tea before heading back home. She packed up and hopped on the broom and started down the mountainside. She didn’t encounter any obstacles and she arrived at one of the tea shops that populate the base of the mountain. Using the same spell as she used in Kathmandu she made herself appear as a normal sized human and got another cup of that amazing spice tea called chai.

She sat dreamily drinking her chai with her eyes half closed and slipped into an altered state, partially from the effect of this amazing Mountain. And partially because of the change of the amount of oxygen in the air for the last three hours. When she opened her eyes she saw a clock on the wall, and when she allowed what she was seeing to actually penetrate her consciousness she put the chai down and started running. She was late. Really late. Where had the time gone?

She did what she normally wouldn’t do which was simply break the spell without looking who could see her. She didn’t have time now. She jumped on the broom, checked to make sure everything was tied down, checked for her wand, shouted “AWAY!”, and turned the dial up to 10. She hoped the sweater would stay on.

She’s streaked across the sky like a meteor. She enjoyed a challenge but she had let this situation go too far. Still this inner space of bliss that she had experienced on that mountain top… Well she wouldn’t trade that for anything. She gained a bit more altitude and in 10 or 15 seconds was a good 5 miles above the Earth’s surface. She never really pushed the broom to its limit because the Earth’s atmosphere was so full of debris that that kind of speed was quite dangerous. But she just turned her intuitive sensing up as high as possible and hoped for the best. Pedal to the metal.

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Chapter 11

A Grim Encounter

The little witch was speeding towards her flower, painfully aware of how late it was. The sunset was intense and beautiful, the last of the sun’s rays creating long strangely shaped shadows. Normally she’d be taking time out to appreciate it. But now she had only one concern and that was getting home before it was not possible to enter her flower.

The light from the sunset was still intense and she was flying right into it at top speed. As she approached it appeared to her that there was a gap in the petals that she could use to enter the flower, so she sped up to go through. But it was a play of light that misled her: the flower was completely closed! As she was going too fast to stop she bounced off the flower, lost control and landed squarley in the little pond, breaking the stem of the flower! Kersplash.

Not good. It was freshwater. The little witch was completely submersed and took in a lung full of water as well.

Really not good. What happened in the next ten minutes came fast and furious.

She immediately felt the shock of the fresh water and realized the clock was ticking now. She would need to get that water off her body and get to a salt water immersion to counteract the effects within ten minutes or so. If she couldn’t manage that she would very likely lose consciousness and then it would just be a matter of hours and she’d be gone.

The water of the pond wasn’t deep but it was over her head. She swam towards the side of the pond and grabbed at the mud to pull her self out. It was like swimming in acid. The motion of her swimming and splashing through the water made her condition worse, but there was nothing to do for it. She crawled as best she could up the slippery side of the bank and flopped on the side of the pond gasping for breath.

How could she have misjudged the reentry so badly? Well she’d never arrived back to find the flower closed. She hadn’t kept track of the time accurately enough.

She realized with horror that her wand was not with her. She looked into the pond where she just came from to see if she could spot it at the bottom. She couldn’t really see because her action of swimming had stirred up the mud. She glanced at the other bank of the pond and tried to peer into the brush and plants of the garden to see if she could spot it. But no luck. She was locked out of her flower, without her broom, without her wand, covered with poisonous freshwater from head to foot. She really had no idea what to do.

To make matters worse she looked up at where her flower used to be and her heart sank even further. The cat had arrived and was sniffing around the stem of her flower. The stem had broken from the impact and the flower was  hanging by a thread. No safe refuge, no more home, she was on her own now.

The splashing that she had made swimming out of the pond had attracted the cat. The cat strolled around the side of the Pond as if he sensed there was going to be something of great interest there. With no wand she was completely at his mercy. She could get up and try to run but where would she run to? She stayed on the ground where she was next to the pond and waited, clinging to her spotty invisibility. She started shivering.

The cat sat down looking around lazily and also seemed to wait. The little witch got the annoying feeling that it was an interesting game of chess for the cat, and it was just waiting for the next move to become clear. Meanwhile the little witch was painfully aware that the clock was ticking for her.

At that moment the house owner came out of the house carrying a glass of cold white wine and sat down at the table on the deck behind her house. She had a full view of the backyard and the garden and the pond. Bowl of potato chips in one hand, glass of wine in the other, she was going to enjoy the rest of the sunset. In the same moment the cat turned with a furious single pointedness, looked directly at the little witch as if he could see her clearly— and pounced.

The cat landed a little ways from the little witch. He landed with his paws outstretched to cover as much ground in front of him as he could. The little witch had the distinct feeling that he couldn’t see her clearly but he definitely sensed she was there. And he was going to find her. His paws were not with claws retracted. They were the paws of a cat who meant business with all of his talons extended. The cat slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, looked around lazily again as if his attention was taken up elsewhere in the garden. He licked himself for a few seconds and then again turned suddenly towards the little witch, green eyes flashing, and pounced. He landed very close, within a few inches of her.

The little witch was surrendered to the reality that she was going to die today. She was filled with gratitude of all of the beauty she had experienced in her short life of 300 years, which translated to a human life span put her at about 18 years old. She had no regrets except one. She felt it was beneath her to die as the plaything of this stupid, mean cat.

She lay on the ground feeling the life energy ebb away as the freshwater sank deeper into her body. Suddenly she remembered her white rose. She looked down to see if it was still there, her symbol of stylish fearlessness: it was still there! A little worse for wear after a crash landing and dunking in the pond. But as fearless as ever! She held the stem in her fading fingers for as long as she could.

The house owner took a sip of wine, enjoying the sunset. She glanced at the cat playing in the grass, and figured he had caught a little mouse to play with. She took a deep breath and took in the peace of the deep reds and yellows of the sunset. The flower that the little witch lived in always fit beautifully with the sunset colors, and she looked over at the place she usually found it and paused. She didn’t see it. Odd. She watched the cat pounce again but she couldn’t see what he was playing with.

The third pounce and the cat hit paydirt. He found the little witch with his left paw, claws extended and drove one claw right through the little witch’s right leg. She was pinned to the ground. The cat retracted the claws in his right paw and slapped her on the side of the head a couple of times to beat some of the life out of her without drawing blood. It worked, and the pain in her leg became the center of her consciousness. She let out a howl of agony. The cat was delighted.

In the same instant that the little witch howled in pain the house owner sat bolt upright in her chair, every muscle in her body tensed. Something was terribly wrong. She looked at the cat with a furious intensity, then she looked back at the missing flower and saw that the stem had been broken and the flower was hanging upside down. Then she looked back at the cat with a mixture of horror, rage, and terror.

She bolted out of her chair knocking the wine glass over. She didn’t notice. She ran at top speed to the side door of the garage and  yanked the door open. She reached inside to where garden tools were stacked against the wall and grabbed a broom.  She continued her top speed trajectory to where the cat was romping around on the grass raising the broom above her head as she approached.

The cat was facing away from the house and away from the house owner and didn’t see her coming. The house owner took a position behind the cat at the same time swinging the broom down with all of her strength and yelling at the top of her lungs,

“How DARE YOU!”

THWACK! The broom connected with all of the house owner’s rage squarely on top of the cat’s head. A few of the bristles caught the little witch in passing but her relief at the claw exiting her leg was blessed. The cat, who had not seen any of that coming, was sent sprawling head over paws and took a moment to get up not knowing what had happened.

“To come into MY GARDEN…”

THWACK! Another direct hit on the head.

“And terrorize MY FRIENDS!”

THWACK! Another direct hit. The cat was looking around frantically for an escape route at this point. He started running, overwhelmed by the chaos of the moment, towards the pond and the house owner. He reached the edge of the pond and turned around realizing he was trapped between the water and this towering tornado of rage coming for him. He had never seen so much raw emotion from a human being before. Neither had the little witch who found it terrible and wonderful at the same time. For the cat it was just terrible.

“You stay out of my garden YOU MANGY, “

THWACK!

“ EVIL”

THWACK

“GOOD-FOR-NOTHING”

THWACK! — all direct hits. The cat was backed up against the pond and he now turned to face the water and considered jumping. But he couldn’t manage it. Each time he scampered in a new direction to escape, the house owner seemed to anticipate it and the broom came down on him with ever-increasing force. This was getting beyond worrisome. He was starting to fear for his life.

“Or you WON’T LIVE”

THWACK! — direct hit.

“TO SEE ANOTHER DAY!”

And with that instead of raising the broom over her head she raised it to the side over her left shoulder resembling one of the baseball players at bat in Yankee Stadium. She swung the broom with an awful force that caught the cat full in the chest, lifted him off the ground and sent him flying about 10 feet through the air. He landed and rolled three times before he gained his paws and with a limping run high-tailed it back to his owner’s back yard.

He hid under the backyard deck and didn’t come out for two days. He never set a paw in the house owner’s yard again. In fact he avoided human beings altogether from then on. They were too dangerous. When he was seen at a distance his head seemed attached to his body at a weird angle and he walked with a permanent limp. He had no more appetite for hunting much less playing with what he stalked. Both cats and dogs avoided him.

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Chapter 12

Writings in Salt

The house owner watched the cat limp off. She had never liked that cat. It belonged to a grumpy rather mean neighbor, an old man that never spoke to her unless it was to complain about something. She had seen the cat playing with small animals, mice and birds, before eating them, which is a natural instinct for most cats that hunt. But this particular cat seemed to have an mean side to it. She wasn’t sure why she thought so, she just did.

For several years she toyed with the idea of a little fairy living in her garden. She enjoyed the little play she had with her self of imagining a little fairy or a small spirit of some sort making her garden it’s home. Or maybe a small witch. That was an odd concept, but a few years back she’d had a dream.

It was a vivid dream, in which she watched a small witch dressed in black and riding a broom flying over her garden and settling in a large red flower there. The morning after the dream she went out to her garden and found a large red flower exactly the same as what appeared in her dream. She had a strangely comforting and at the same time unsettling feeling upon discovering that flower. She didn’t give it too much energy, but upon occasion she would look at that red flower and imagine a small witch living in it. She very much enjoyed that feeling. She made sure each year that she planted a flower in exactly the same spot that would bloom with such a red flower.

She took a moment to gather herself and assess the situation. She then realized she had to communicate with the little being living in her garden.

Accompanying that thought was a crowd of different emotions seeming to pull her in different directions. At the very top was a feeling of danger. What if people found out she was talking to spirits? What would they think? Following fast on that feeling was the feeling of doubting herself. She figured it was one thing to indulge a childish fantasy that was fun: a small adventurous spirit who made it’s home in her garden. But now she was crossing the line between a childish fantasy and reality. She wasn’t sure she was ready to do that.

When she was sitting at the table with her glass of wine an uneasy feeling of danger had grown inside of her. She had no idea why but she was troubled seeing the cat playing in the garden. It added to her feeling of danger. Suddenly when she saw the red flower broken in the garden and noticed how the cat was playing seemingly with thin air she got a very clear premonition that she needed to get rid of that critter. Without delay. It had been very clear what she needed to do. And she did it. Now the next step wasn’t so clear.

In the end she had to trust her intuition entirely and let go of her misgivings. So she simply said out loud, “What do you need now?” She felt a bit strange talking to the empty yard but she was determined to follow through. She knew that normally she couldn’t see or hear this little being, but what just took place was not normal circumstances. She thought for a moment. What did she know?

She figured she knew that if this little being was living in a flower it’s pretty small. She also knew that normally she couldn’t see or hear it. How could she communicate?

She thought, “I should get a pencil and paper and maybe we could write notes to each other…”

But then she realized that for someone really small lifting a pencil would be too much. She calmed her mind and waited for an idea to come. Then she thought, “a toothpick. Perfect. A toothpick in the dirt. She can scratch out a message.”

Then she found herself thinking of salt… Even better.

She said out loud, “I’ll be right back. “

She ran to the house, picked up a paper plate from the kitchen and sprinkled some salt on the plate. She grabbed a toothpick and ran back outside again, putting the plate with the salt on it on the ground where she had just left.

Meanwhile the little witch was poised on the edge of unconsciousness. She had dropped off when the house owner went for the salt and barely woke again when the house owner returned. She looked at the plate that had the salt on it and was encouraged. But it was about a foot and a half  from where she had fallen, and that was just too much of a distance to cover in her condition. She was fading fast, and unconsciousness seemed preferable to the screaming pain in her leg.

Intuiting the problem the house owner said again, “I’ll be right back,” and ran back to the house to get more salt and toothpicks. She returned and spread salt gently in a 3 foot radius on the ground. Then she sprinkled toothpicks around so that every two or 3 inches there was a toothpick sitting in the salt. Then she waited.

As a result there was a toothpick right in front of the little witch and a little pile of salt. The little witch first rubbed some salt into the wound in her leg. That felt delicious and gave her a bit more strength. Then she lifted the toothpick in front of her and used all of her strength to write in the salt the words “salt bath.”

The house owner saw the words form in the salt and tears sprang from her eyes. She murmured under her breath “oh my God it’s true. I knew it.” She struggled for composure and asked, “ you want a salt bath for your wounds?”

She saw the letter Y for yes form.

With renewed energy she told the little witch to move onto the plate and she would bring her inside and prepare a salt bath. So the house owner brought the plate inside, then got one of the bigger coffee mugs, filled it with lukewarm water and put salt in it. Then she lifted the paper plate to the edge of the cup so that the little witch could slide in. Which she did, clothes and all.

The relief she felt was immediate and profound. There was no magnesium in the mixture but that could come later, the main thing was the salt. Her body started repairing itself immediately. She knew that the damage she sustained was going to take time to repair but her gratitude towards the house owner was something new, unique, and such a surprise. It gave her hope.

Meanwhile there was one or two other things that needed attention besides her body. She had lost her wand and she needed to do everything she could to get it back. She could easily stay in that salt bath all day. But she was determined to do something about recovering her wand, so she climbed out of the cup and dropped onto the table on top of an old napkin which helped break her fall onto the table. She winced but it was bearable. The house owner had left her alone mumbling something about giving her her privacy. But now she needed her attention.

Someone had left some coins on the table. With the infusion of strength that came from the salt bath she managed to hobble over to the small pile of coins and push one over the edge of the table so it clattered onto the floor. Sure enough within about 15 seconds the house owner came rushing in to see what the matter was. She saw the coin on the floor and looked at the table and realized immediately she’d been called.

She picked up the paper plate that had the salt on it and put it back on the table in the middle. She put a new layer of salt on the plate and a fresh toothpick right next to it. Sure enough within a few seconds the toothpick started to move! It took her breath away, she just couldn’t get used to it. She watched the toothpick move through the salt leaving behind the words,

“Wand in pond. Size:” Then the toothpick was placed next to the word size.

The house owner looked at the words and thought about what that indicated about her guest. She was consumed with curiosity and couldn’t help but ask, “Is it a magic wand? Are you a little witch?” She immediately felt she was intruding on the little being’s privacy, but there it was. The question was asked.

The little witch felt a wall of protection go up around her. Revealing that information in the past had cost many thousands their lives. She struggled to stay with her situation as it was in the moment and she considered wisely. Finally she decided to reveal the truth about who she was. She picked up the toothpick and wrote the letter Y- for yes- in the salt.

The house owner said, “so this means you lost your magic wand in the pond?” The letter Y was formed in the salt.

“Ok. Well that’s going to be a challenge to find something that small in the pond. But I’ll give it a try.“ The house owner got up from the table feeling giddy with excitement, but as she was reaching the door she heard another penny drop on the floor. She returned to the plate of salt and watched the words form.

“Tonight. Moon.”

The house owner repeated what she thought the meaning was, “so you want to look for the wand tonight when the moon is up. Is that correct?“

The letter Y appeared.

The house owner said, “Well, that’s not what I would recommend but OK. “

Another thought occurred to her concerning this little being’s future… The house owner asked out loud,

“How were you using the flower?”

The toothpick floating above the salt spelled, “Home.”

What was she going to use as her home now? It was mid summer so she could plant another flower in the garden to take the place of the one that broke. It would probably take two weeks to bloom and be the right size to accommodate her. If she stayed two weeks in the house the house owner would be fine with that. But making sure the boys didn’t find anything like words mysteriously appearing in salt was another matter.

The house owner asked, “do you want another flower house?“

She patiently watched the salt. The letter Y slowly appeared.

The house owner again felt a wave of the feelings that were unfamiliar to her, and yet familiar at the same time. Tears came to her eyes and she realized one of the things she felt was incredibly touched to be chosen by this spirit, witch, faerie, whatever she was. She had chosen her garden to live in. Without knowing why, she felt deeply honored. She felt somehow that this meeting was going to change her life. Ways of being and feeling and experiencing that she had never encountered before or perhaps just dreamed of were becoming available to her through this meeting. It was a portal into a different reality, one governed by magic.

She saw this flood of thoughts and feelings and thought to herself, “Wo girl. Slow down. Let’s take this slow and easy. We don’t actually know what this all means.“ But she was left with an unmistakable feeling that suffused her whole body. The only word that came close to describing it was: magic.

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Chapter 13

A Midnight Experiment

The time neared to retrieve the wand. The  night happened to be a full moon night, which the little witch was very grateful for. She needed a full moon and a surrogate wand to enable the spell that would return her wand to her. She had prepared with the help of the house owner. She decided that half of a toothpick would be just about the right size for the surrogate wand. But there was no way even if she was completely healthy that she was going to break one of those toothpicks in half. So midway through the afternoon she emerged from her salt bath and requested magnesium powder. She also requested a half a toothpick by writing in the salt,

“1/2 TP”

The house owner was confused. She could only fit “toilet paper” to the cryptic message of TP and asked out loud,

“You need toilet paper for tonight?”

She watched as the toothpick which had been laid to rest at the edge of the plate was dragged slowly to the center of the plate. The house owner was still puzzled.

“You want a toothpick?” It didn’t make sense she had one now. “You want a second toothpick?” she asked re reading the cryptic message. Suddenly she blurted out,

“You want half of a toothpick?!”

She watched, pleased, as the letter Y was slowly engraved in the salt. The house owner immediately took one of the toothpicks close by, broke it in half, and put it close to the edge of the plate where she figured the little witch was sitting. She asked out loud, “How’s that? Will that do?”

Another Y formed in the salt.

“You have everything you need?”

The little witch was encouraged with the communication but she was starting to tire. She gathered her strength to write one more instruction. The words, “Must be on deck table midnight” formed painstakingly slowly but clearly.

The house owner repeated, “You need to be on the deck table outside at midnight? “ The letter Y appeared.

“OK I will put you on the deck table outside at midnight. With your toothpick and plate of salt.”

The house owner felt a thrill spread through her body and reverberate up and down her spine. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise slightly. She was going to witness a magic ritual at full Moon at midnight.

The little witch needed the surrogate wand because she was going to cast a spell on her wand in order to make it appear. And in order to cast a spell she needed a substitute wand. A witch’s wand will not accept any magic spells put upon it, except by the witch who owns the wand. Conditions were good but not ideal. To prepare the surrogate wand properly she would’ve needed to leave it out in the Moonlight for the seven days leading up to the full moon. But she didn’t have time, the full moon was that night and every day that went by without her wand in her possession she was at risk.

What she was going to attempt was to magnify not only the earth’s energy but combine it with the full moon energy and use the surrogate wand to cast that energy like a net. The net would seek out her wand and her wand would seek her out. The surrogate wand was just a placeholder. The moon’s energy was needed to make up the difference and add the extra oomph that was needed to cast the spell.  The unknown for the Little witch was that normally it required a burst of energy from the witch to make a spell through a surrogate wand work and the little witch was not sure how much energy she could muster.

Normally if she had lost or misplaced her wand she would just go looking for it. Sooner or later it would be found because it was her wand and the wand wanted to be found. But now it was probably lying at the bottom of the pond of freshwater and that changed things. She had to keep her distance until it was rinsed clean with salt water.

At 11:45 pm the house owner came and asked the little witch, “Are you ready?”

A “Y” formed in the salt.

“Ok. Wait there.”

With that the house owner picked up the plate of salt and the toothpick that she had broken in half. She brought those out and placed them on the table on the deck. She went back inside and picked up the salt bath and brought it out to the deck table. She went back inside and announced to the now empty looking table, “Time for your ride out to the deck table.“

The house owner got one more paper plate and put it on the table and waited. She watched the paper plate move and bend slightly as the little witch transferred her weight onto it, and she knew she was sitting there waiting. She very carefully picked the plate up being sure to keep it level and brought it out to the deck table where she put it down gently.

After a moment the words, “no talking, “appeared in the salt.

As 12 o’clock midnight arrived the little witch picked up the surrogate wand in her right hand and started moving it very subtly and slowly pointing it towards the pond. She lifted her left hand palm up towards the moon. The house owner saw the half of a toothpick floating and bobbing above the plate where the little witch was standing. She didn’t know what to expect.

If the house owner could’ve seen what the little witch was seeing she would’ve seen a thin gossamer web-like net that was spreading from the surrogate wand through the air and touching down just beyond the pond. After about a minute of spreading the net it was complete. The little witch made a half step backwards and very gently tossed the surrogate wand in the air and it landed on top of the gossamer net where it stuck. She was talking inaudibly under her breath the whole time, chanting the spell which combined the Earth energy with the moon’s energy and directed the mixture through the 1/2 toothpick substitute wand.

She felt positive about the progress, at the same time feeling hesitant. Casting a spell was like baking a cake in a way. The  ingredients needed for the desired effect were listed very specifically in the spell. If you changed any of the ingredients you made the spell something slightly different, and you could never be sure what it would produce. It was common knowledge for witches that introducing a surrogate wand into the spellcasting was introducing just such an uncertainty. There were several stories of witches casting spells with a substitute wand which resulted in a hatburn. So the practice was not recommended.

The Little witch reached out with her index finger and touched the bottom of the surrogate wand that was standing vertically in the air and lifted it up ever so slowly taking the gossamer net with it. Then her finger stopped but the wand did not stop floating upwards. So far so good. The toothpick wand kept floating upwards and as the house owner watched she realized this was where the magic really started. After it was about 6 feet in the air above the deck table she fancied she could see a thin stream of silver light from the moon connecting with the toothpick wand.

Up and up the surrogate wand floated until it was difficult for the house owner to keep track of where it was. But it wasn’t difficult for the little witch. She had it firmly in her sight, and she also was watching very carefully the space above the pond. The little piece of toothpick continued floating upwards until it was about 20 feet in the air. A little crease of worry appeared on the little witch’s forehead as she would’ve expected her wand to resurface already. But just then as if on cue up floated her wand, silver looking in the moonlight, out of the pond.

Very slowly it broke the surface of the water and floated up at about the same rate that the surrogate wand was floating upwards. The little witch was pleased with the progress of the spell so far.

She slowly and slightly bent her index finger as if beckoning her wand to her. She checked her energy level and knew that she was pressing her luck, but had a good feeling for how it was progressing. She expected her wand to very slowly and elegantly float over to the table where she would beckon it to simply land. But as she beckoned, it seemed to get a little stuck. The Little witch beckoned it again and watched with slight alarm. Her wand didn’t move towards her, but rather it trembled in mid air as if it wanted to move but couldn’t.

The little witch was slightly concerned and wondered if the problem was the use of the surrogate wand that had not been prepared properly. Well there was nothing for it now she needed this experiment to complete. She moved her whole hand from the wrist upwards as she waved her wand towards her, saying two words of an ancient language belonging only to witches. Roughly translated they were the commands, “Here, Now!”

What happened next caught them both off guard. Her real wand broke free of the energy net, pointed itself directly at the little witch and flew with lightning speed from where it was over the pond to the deck table. It then behaved as if it wasn’t sure what to do next, as it danced a little dance in front of the little witch before dropping down onto the table with a clatter. The little witch was a bit taken aback. The house owner let out a little squeak of surprise and wondered if it was all going OK. But the main thing was it worked. Her wand lay quivering slightly on the table in front of her.

The little witch wrote in the salt, “put wand in bath. “ She didn’t want to touch it until it was thoroughly rinsed with salt water. The house owner started to comply, and reached her hand out to take the wand and put it in the salt water bath. The wand started bouncing up and down on the table as if it were restless and uncomfortable making it impossible to grasp. The little witch looked extremely sternly at it and it calmed down again, and allowed the house owner to pick it up and put it in the salt bath.

The little witch wrote in the salt, “thank you. “

The house owner said out loud, “you’re welcome.”

The house owner then asked, “do you want to go inside now? “

The words, “stay here” formed in the salt. The house owner raised her eyebrow but just accepted that at face value. As far as the little witch was concerned, now that she had her wand back she had no fear of remaining outside whoever might show up. The little witch glanced in the salt bath and fancied she saw her wand bobbing and dipping up and down as if enjoying a swim in the wonderful salt water.

************

Chapter 14

The Little Witch Intervenes

The healing was slow but steady for the Little witch. She ended up staying in the house owner’s home for about a month, long enough for the flower in the garden to be sturdy enough for her to move in. She continued soaking in salt and magnesium baths two to three hours a day. The damage her system had taken from the submersion in freshwater was pretty easily reversed by the salt baths. But she had also taken freshwater into her lungs, that was another story.

And the most challenging to her healing powers was the wound in her leg created by the cat’s claw. Cats and witches have an odd on-again off-again relationship with each other. Cats enjoy witches because they’re so mysterious. And cats enjoy mystery. Witches enjoy cats because there’s something about their eyes that exudes a feminine allure which also seems slightly dangerous. And witches enjoy that. But the whole mutual appreciation thing can really go south sometimes and they can become bitter enemies. It’s one of those weird things about their relationship that nobody figures out.

Since witches have magic, cats instinctively know  they need to behave themselves in the presence of that. The little witch’s emergency had come from the fact that she lost her wand. It was the first time in her life that had ever happened. Losing a wand does not mean you lose all your magic as a witch, but it does mean you can’t cast it, you can’t project it. So the cat didn’t feel any magic coming from the little witch, and he also simply had a mean streak. He had a habit of torturing animals smaller than himself.

Oddly it wasn’t the little witch who held a grudge against the cat. It was the house owner.

The little witch had always felt a resonance with the house owner. That liking now changed into a deeper bond. The house owner had not only saved the little witch’s life, but she cared for her recovery also. The little witch was not aware of any other time in witch history that had happened. It was the first time she’d seen a human being with that much resonance for magic. It made it much easier to let her guard down around the house owner.

After several weeks of daily salt and magnesium baths the little witch was mostly healed. The wound in her leg had improved, but was still not 100%. The little witch had a feeling it might never totally heal. Her wand was back to normal with one exception. If the witch put the wand down somewhere and made as if she was going to leave the wand would float up in the air and follow her.

The bloom of the flower planted for the Little Witch was even bigger than the original. It was an upgrade. The Little witch moved her few things back in and immediately felt right at home.

It happened that the house owner’s youngest son got sick later in the summer. Something went wrong in his lungs and he got an infection which the doctors misdiagnosed. He got the wrong medicine which made it worse. He became quite sick and then critically. A day came when the house owner was absolutely beside herself because her son’s health was simply deteriorating at an alarming rate. No one seemed to know what to do. The infection had spread to other places in his body and he just wasn’t capable of repelling it.

One day the house owner rushed to collect her son and take him to the hospital because he had lost consciousness. She was beside herself, her hands trembling, tears streaming down her face. The little witch took the situation in while sitting in her flower and decided to intervene. It wasn’t a decision taken lightly as witches normally don’t intervene in human affairs. But this was different.

Once she decided to take matters into her own hands she wasted no time. She said sharply the command, “HERE” directed at her broom. It flew over to her, waiting. She then motioned to her wand, and it shot like an arrow into her hand. She got on the broom and flew to the house owner’s room overlooking the back deck. They kept a plate of salt there for just such a need for communication. Also they kept two or three coins there to get the house owner’s attention.

The little witch landed on the table, dropped a coin on the ground and wrote in the plate of salt, “wait. “

The house owner was rushing out the door with her unconscious son when she heard the coin drop. She glanced at the plate of salt and saw the word “wait” and said out loud with a trembling voice, “I can’t wait I’m in a terrible hurry. “

The little witch wrote quickly the word “sit” in the salt. The woman looked at the plate and yelled,

“Are you joking? Can’t you see he’s deadly sick? He needs care urgently!”

The little witch remembered in a flash why witches so seldom intervene in human affairs. Their vision is so limited it makes communication almost impossible. But she was determined.

She wrote the word “SIT” in capitals in the salt. The house owner looked at her unconscious son and then back at the plate and let out a howl of frustration mixed with fear. She prided herself on being a fighter all her life. But in this moment, all of her helplessness rushed in like a dam breaking, and there was nothing to fight against. It was not willpower that enabled her to follow the Little Witch’s instruction. It was a growing sense of trust. She wasn’t even sure of trust in what, but it was there guiding her. She collapsed onto the chair with her son limp in her lap.

The Little Witch wrote in the salt, “Don’t move.” She then proceeded to cast a healing spell that concentrated the earth’s energy 100 times. It was one of the most powerful spells in the witch lexicon. She directed the healing energy to the house owner’s son. There was a slight crackling sound from the wand and a very faint smell of singed bark. The house owner could not see exactly what was happening, but to her it felt like all of the air in the room was sucked out and everything fell silent. All that could be heard was that faint sound of crackling coming from the wand.

The little witch closed her eyes and concentrated on her grip on her wand, not too tight, not too loose. There were stories of a witch’s wand catching fire while casting the spell, and another story of a witch burning her hand. The Little Witch knew the risks involved, but decided to use the spell anyway.

She kept the energy streaming for a good 60 seconds which was a huge dose. Behind her closed eyes, the little witch could see clearly how the spell was taking shape. There was a gossamer thread, projected from the end of the wand towards the boy like a silver branch from a tree with deep and brightly colored leaves being emitted like shafts of light skittering around the room. It was intoxicating, and the little witch had to refocus her attention on the grip on her wand. She was feeding the spell it’s intention, and it was best when the intention never wavered.

Meanwhile the house owner looked down at her son’s face and didn’t know what to make of it. He was clearly still alive but his face had a vacant look, as if he wasn’t in his body. He was so hot he was burning up. One thing seemed clear, he seemed to have stopped struggling. She wasn’t at all sure that was a positive sign. The house owner was getting close to calling a halt to the whole thing, when something strange happened.

In that moment, the little witch watched as the beam of light energy from her wand split into two, one beam bathing the boy in colored light and the other beam like a bolt of electricity streaming into the house owner’s body. The little witch had never seen that happen before, but then she’d never used this spell at anything close to this strength before.

The house owner herself felt her eyes droop and then close, and there was nothing she could do about it. Suddenly, a vision appeared to her, and she wondered if she’d fallen asleep and was dreaming. She became disoriented, and realized she didn’t seem to be in the back deck room of her house, she seemed to be dreaming she was in a forest, during winter, and there was snow everywhere. The slightly smoky smell from the wand earlier became the incense smell of a fire in the forest. In the middle distance there was a large cabin on a path. The cabin was engulfed in flames but it didn’t burn up.

Then to her dismay, there appeared a lion in front of the cabin, stepping through the flames into the snow. It was carrying something in it’s mouth, and had a ferocious look on it’s face. The lion started trotting towards the house owner, looking her directly in the eye, and stopped right in front of her. She realized the lion was carrying HER SON in it’s mouth! She jumped to her feet ready to battle the lion for possession of the boy. The lion continued to look directly into her eyes, and put the boy down on the snow in front of the astonished house owner.

She shouted in the biggest voice she could muster,

“You better back off mister or you’re in big trouble!” Her voice didn’t sound as threatening as she had meant it. In fact, it just sort of floated gently from her to the lion sounding more musical than spoken. She spotted a large stick and ran to pick it up to show this animal she meant business. The lion said,

“That will not be needed.”

The house owner was stunned. She understood what the lion had said! She felt rooted to the spot, and at the same time like running as fast as she could away from this creature. The lion continued to look into her eyes, and she started feeling dizzy. It spoke in a crystal clear velvety voice which also seemed musical. As fraught as the situation with her boy and the witch had been at her house a few minutes ago she found herself wishing to be back there instead of in this other worldly dreamscape. Her feeling of disorientation grew as she felt she was being divided into two of herself; one version was her old self, ready to fight for what she felt was right. And the second was a confused softer version, unfamiliar. There was a pain around her heart which had something to do with the lion’s presence. In spite of her confusion she felt she needed to understand what was happening for her son’s well being.

The lion said, “Listen carefully. The boy is on a course of Self realization, and he is very close. What he needs to complete his path is absolute freedom and unconditional love.”

The house owner bristled. “Hello Mr. Kitty! Who the hell are you to tell me what I need to give my son? And what is Self Realization?”

The lion unperturbed said in answer, “I am a messenger. The boy has chosen his life path. Does he need many boundaries set as a child?”

“No.” The house owner felt irritated to be questioned by an animal, but realized this was no ordinary animal, and she had a growing curiosity of what he knew of her son.

The lion continued, “No, he doesn’t need external boundaries because his inner goal and the path to it is clear. It is a rare phenomenon and he will help many who are lost remember the meaning in their lives.”

The house owner replied, “I’ll settle for him recovering, thanks. And according to you that’s what I need to teach him? Absolute freedom and unconditional love?“

The lion said, “No, that is what he is teaching you. Whatever he chooses for himself you must support him.”

The house owner had known for some time that her son was special, quiet without being withdrawn, very present and aware. He seemed to have the presence of an adult at a very young age. His eyes were clear and unwavering. When he looked at someone he saw their truth.

The lion continued, “If he’s not free to fulfill his path, the sickness will come again only there will be no cure. Do you have any questions?”

The house owner swallowed down the objection of being talked to like a schoolgirl. However she answered, “No questions.” She couldn’t help feeling she was being unjustly criticized.

The lion said, “You are very fortunate to be worthy of such a task.” Her feeling of being criticized evaporated and was replaced with all the love she felt for her son and — she wasn’t sure what she felt about this lion-messenger. Something akin to awe and wonder and… she just couldn’t stop feeling he was seeing through all her defenses into her soul.

With that the lion turned around as if satisfied that it had received what it came for, and trotted back into the flames of the burning cabin. The house owner lunged for her son, and picked him up into her arms.

Immediately she was back in the deck room of her house, sitting in the chair with her son on her lap, as before.

What the Little Witch saw in that moment was the light beams going to the boy and his mother crackled softly one last time and disappeared back into her wand. In the next moment the air rushed back into the room, smelling as fresh as during a thunderstorm. The ambient sounds returned at the same moment. The Little Witch opened her eyes, looking a little tired, but alert. She examined her wand which was still smoking slightly, and her hand. Good: no damage to either. She looked at the boy expectantly. The house owner slowly opened her eyes and looked at her son intently. He didn’t stir. She didn’t know what had just happened but remembered speaking with the lion. A tear ran silently down her cheek. She felt her heart was breaking as she gazed down at her still unconscious son. More tears fell.

Then as if in answer to her unspoken question, the boy suddenly opened his eyes, sat up, looked directly at the Little Witch for a moment, then looked at his mother and simply said, “I’m hungry — can I have something to eat?”

Everything went silent again. The Little Witch started giggling as quietly as she could manage. The house owner seemed frozen in disbelief. Then she broke the silence with a wail of relief, joy, and tears afresh as she hugged her son as if it was the last time. She couldn’t stop crying. She looked at her son and saw the color in his skin returning, and his life energy, and his usual hunger, as well as his usual fidgetiness – he didn’t like being held for too long. She was overjoyed. She threw caution to the wind and asked in the direction of the salt plate,”Are you doing this?”

The words, “Your trust” appeared in the salt.

The house owner thought to herself, “Well you may be little my friend but you are a powerhouse!” The house owner revisited that feeling of being in the presence of some deeper truth. She was profoundly grateful to the Little Witch and she realized what a paradox magic is. It has a reputation for creating illusion but her experience was it revealed the truth. She had many questions all of which would have to wait. Her son was back, it was a joyful day.

That event further cemented their relationship which only deepened and mellowed through the years. After about a year the house owner decided she wanted to introduce herself. They had been meeting occasionally when the boys were gone in the summer on the back deck overlooking the yard and garden. The house owner would place a plate of salt and two toothpicks on the table as an invitation. If she saw one of the toothpicks move she knew the little witch had taken up the invitation.

One day when they were both there at the table the house owner said in the direction of the Little witch, “my name is Dee.”

She waited for the answer informing her of the little witch’s name. And waited. After 10 minutes she asked, “ do you also have a name? “

The words, “No name,” appeared in the salt. Dee asked, “you don’t have a name? “

The words, “no name. We don’t have names,“ appeared in the salt.

“Oh, “ Dee said awkwardly. Ten minutes went by and Dee asked,

“Can I suggest a name?”

She saw, “If you like, “ appear.

“Can I suggest Isadora?”

If the little witch was honest she would admit she wasn’t thrilled with the name. Four syllables, it was a bit of a mouthful. In witch culture they didn’t go by names. In fact they didn’t often talk out loud. Normally they relied on telepathy to communicate. Much more efficient.  But this was a special situation and required special treatment. So she agreed to the name.

“Ok. “

“That’s wonderful. I love the name Isadora. It belongs to one of the most famous modern dancers, Isadora Duncan, who was a genius choreographer in the last century. A very creative artist who fearlessly flew in the face of tradition. I think it fits you.”

The little witch didn’t know what a modern dancer was, she assumed it was a more recent version of an ancient dancer? She also didn’t know what a choreographer was. But she liked the part about being fearless. 

The view of the garden from the deck was beautiful. In one corner there was a rosebush that produced white roses. The little witch appreciated the supply. They both appreciated the summer riot of color the garden produced.