Sadie's Story (7 page)

Chapter 12

Snow Globes and Unicorn Horns

S
adie hurried to the playhouse with the news. The bad news. News so bad, it felt like she was carrying something heavy. Something she couldn't wait to put down.

Without knocking, she burst through the door.

The witch didn't even turn around. Didn't stop taking things out of her apparently bottomless black bag and lining them up on the ground. She was humming to herself. The soft “
m, m, m
”s mingled with an aroma of—what, exactly? Spices, yes, but not cooking spices. Spices from somewhere with a long, mysterious name. Somewhere hot winds blew and animals with bells around their ankles rose and shook themselves free of sleep.

Sadie took a deep breath. Her news—that awful burden—seemed lighter. But still not good.

“There's going to be a yard sale,” she began.

Ms. M turned and smiled. “I know. That's why I'm doing a little housecleaning.”

“But—”

“First things first, dear. Do you have any of those stickers people use for yard sales? I'd like to price these items.”

“But what about—”

“At least three dollars for this.” Ms. M held up a stubby yellow pencil.

“It's only an inch long.”

“True, but it's a pencil from Pennsylvania. Hear the alliteration? That adds to the value.”

Next Ms. M handed her a cloudy snow globe. “From the Sahara. One of a kind.”

“It's empty!”

“Sadie, I'm surprised that a clever girl like
you has forgotten that it doesn't snow in the desert.” The witch took back the globe. Breathed on it. Polished it with her sleeve. “Ten dollars, don't you think?”

“No, and anyway, what I came to tell you is—”

“What about this?” Ms. M showed Sadie a faded blue T-shirt with writing on it. A lot of writing.

Sadie strained to read the small print. “What does it say?”

Ms. M recited, “I Survived the Two Wicked Stepsisters Zip Line at Prince Charming's
Slip-er-Slide Water Park and Nevertheless All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt, Which Isn't Even 100% Cotton and Gives Me Hives.” She held the shirt out at arm's length. Tilted her head. Nodded. “Fifteen dollars,” she declared, placing it in the growing pile.

“Please, Ms. M, I really need—”

“Now, this is the very top of my collection.” With a swordsman's flourish, she withdrew a long, thin object from the bag. “A unicorn horn. So many memories! And not all that long ago. Just last Halloween, in fact. Ethel and I went to a neighborhood party. Two other unicorns there, but I was the snazziest.” She extended the horn toward Sadie. “You can hold it, but gently, please. It's fragile.”

“It's tinfoil wrapped around a stick. With elastic—”

“Oh dear, yes. It's out of context. Let me put it on.” Ms. M maneuvered the stick over her hat onto her forehead and secured the elastic strap beneath her chin.

Amazing. She didn't look like a unicorn, but she did look, well, interesting.

“It's very nice, but listen. My parents want to sell the—”

“Such a wonderful party,” Ms. M interrupted dreamily, galloping a few steps forward and a few steps back. “We danced the night away. And Ethel won a prize! Most Authentic Costume. Which was a miracle. She's so scattered! First she wanted to go as a salad, but couldn't decide between ranch and French. Then it was a woolly mammoth, but that itched and was tight under the arms. Finally she just went as herself.”

“As a witch?”

“No, as her authentic self. The real Ethel. There's nothing as attractive as someone being her true, true self. Especially when she's doing the mambo with a unicorn. ”

Sadie couldn't help but smile even as she—finally!—announced, “Mom and Dad want to sell the playhouse.”

“Yes, I suppose we should put all our energies there.” The witch took off the unicorn horn. She returned it to the bag, followed by the T-shirt and the snow globe. “I can't part with any of these things, anyway. They are positively vibrating with memories.”

Chapter 13

Plan B

T
he next morning Sadie and Ms. M stood out by the compost bin, beside the bubbling cauldron. The witch was dressed in another one of Sadie's old outfits, complete with shoes—Sadie's last-year soccer cleats.

“Reminds me of my college days on the
Dragonville Stompers,” said Ms. M, taking an enthusiastic kick at the air.

“You played soccer?”

“Stomp ball,” said the witch. She brought her foot down on a large white mushroom cap to demonstrate.

“It's strange,” said Sadie, “how Dad and Mr. Keppler don't seem to notice you.”

“They notice me. They just don't see me. Or, rather, they see what they want to see. They see you with your little friend.”

“You don't look like any of my other friends. You look like a witch in my clothes and a Milwaukee Brewers baseball cap.”

“Not to them.”

“Okay, my friend, they're about to carry away the playhouse.” Sadie pointed to the
cauldron. “So I hope that hex you're working on will stop them.”

The witch took a brimming spoonful, slurped, smiled, and nodded. “Perfect.”

Sadie's father and Mr. Keppler lifted the playhouse and started slowly across the yard. “It isn't working!” Sadie wailed. “They're almost to the street!”

“This isn't a hex, Sadie. It's oatmeal. Source of iron, phosphorous, and zinc. Have a taste.” Ms. M held out the spoon, but Sadie pushed it away.

“Don't you understand? They're going to sell your house. We have to do something.”

“Well, I do have a nice little hex that will wrinkle all their clothes.”

“Be serious.”

“I could turn them into elephant seals.”

“Not that serious.”

“You're right. You do not want to live with an elephant seal. They take up all the room in the Jacuzzi. Let me think for a moment.”

Silently Ms. M stirred and stirred. Sadie fidgeted so hard that she woke up Wilson, who glared at her and moved under a fern.

“I know,” Ms. M said after a while. “I'll make it rain. No one likes to drip and shop.”

Sadie exhaled in relief. “That sounds great.
And you're sure you can do it?”

The witch reached into a cluster of plants, waved away a spider, took a pinch of its web, and dropped it into the cauldron. Then she added a few more things from her deep black bag.

“I thought that was oatmeal,” said Sadie.

“It is. But now in addition to being high in fiber it also summons storms' fury.”

Sadie surveyed the sky. “No fury so far.”

“Let's try again,” said Ms. M. She reached for Sadie's hand. “Repeat after me: water clear and water bright, wash away this sale tonight.”

“It's not night, it's nine a.m.”

“So it is. Water clear, a gentle spray, wash away this sale today.”

“A gentle spray isn't going to wash away anything.”

“No, but such a lovely use of imagery. When I took Omens & Augury, everybody envied my facility with language.”

Overhead was still blue, blue, and more blue. The only clouds were wispy and white and decidedly nonthreatening. No sudden gust of wind. No smell of moisture in the air.

Nothing.

It was time for Plan B. Plan S, actually. Plan Sadie.

“Come with me, Ms. M. I've got a better idea.”