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“They say your grandma’s a witch,” Gil said.
It had been a few days.
Grandma and I had had only short conversations. In the crampedness of the house, Mom started to notice, even though I hadn’t said anything about the basement to her or my brother and sister.
“Is that what they say?”
Between that and the general chaos of aforementioned brother and sister, Grandma had relented, and by our third day there, we were allowed to play outside.
“Yeah,” confirmed Gil.
That’s how I met Gil. Apparently, he lived two or three houses down and had seen us arrive. The other kids hadn’t the stones to venture near the witch-house, but Gil had.
“This town is boring,” he’d explained. “Nothing ever happens here.”
Now however, things were happening.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, feigning incredulity. “My grandma? A witch?” I shoved the events of a few nights ago to the back of my mind.
“Yeah,” he said, leaning back and looking at the cloudy sky. “Haven’t you seen the news? People disappearing all over town. That’s why none of the other kids get close.”
I shrugged. Until a few nights ago, I would have sworn up and down that Grandma loved kids. Now? I wasn’t so sure.
“Will you introduce me?” I asked.
“Hm?”
“To your friends?” I pressed. “I don’t have any here.”
Gil smirked. “Aren’t we friends?”
I focused my attention on a very exciting dead leaf, blowing about in the wind. “Well, yeah, but—y-you know what I mean.”
Gil shoved me. “Sure, sure.”
Later that day, I met Russ, Danny, and Sarah.
“Are you the witch girl?” Sarah asked. She looked me over, then away, then took another peek while pretending to examine her nails.
“Not a girl,” I muttered. “Not a witch, either.”
They all looked confused. Except for Gil, but I couldn’t read his expression.
“What’s with your grandma’s house then?” Danny asked. He leaned in, his nose twitching like a rat’s.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Ask her yourself.”
That shut them up.
“We’re just curious,” Gil said after a moment.
“No we’re not,” Russ muttered darkly.
“Well, which is it?” I asked.
“Well…” Gil went on. “People have been going missing in town lately.”
“Someone disappeared the night you arrived, actually,” Sarah said, matter-of-factly.
The thoughts in the back of my mind were fighting their way forward. I sat on them.
“You know something,” Russ accused.
“No I don’t.” I said. “I just got here.”
But I *did* know something, didn’t I? Even though I had just met Gil and his friends, somehow I felt guilty not sharing the truth with them- even if I didn’t know what it was myself.
I thought back to the house, the voice, the way grandma looked at me–
Anger?
Or Fear.
I heard my mom calling for me. My new friends all looked up when I did, a pack of meerkats checking for trouble.
“I gotta go,” I said, sliding off the park bench.
“Convenient,” Sarah muttered, still looking at her nails.“You all hear my mom.”
The looks on their faces may have been carved in stone they were so stubborn- but Mom’s voice carried pretty clearly, and we could all see her making her way across the grass.
“Meet later?” I asked.
Gil nodded. “We’ll find you.”
The thought made my heart race. I’m not quite sure why. But Mom was near, and I didn’t want her to embarrass me in front of the gang.
“You making friends okay?” Mom asked as we made our way back.
“Yes, mom.”
She seemed to slump a little; I looked at her face and she smiled at me. “Good. Listen, I’m sorry-”
“It’s not your fault,” I said quickly.
The wind picked up, and for a moment I caught sight of the bruise on her cheek. It hadn’t yet completely faded, but it was much less purple than it had been days ago.
We moved in silence for awhile, and it stretched long enough that I almost wished she had embarrassed me.
“Are you and Grandma getting along?” she asked at last.
Did the wind pick up? I shivered and nearly tripped over my own feet.
“Yeah,” I said. “We’re fine.”
By now, Grandma’s house had come into view; we were approaching from behind, so we see the backyard fence, the sounds of my siblings playing just beyond, while the house itself loomed just above. Stretching up beyond it, the rest of the houses, neat and tidy, looking down on us.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think we’re just getting used to each other.”
We entered the backyard through the side gate.
“Claudie!” my brother and sister scampered over for hugs, and as I knelt to do so, I could see Grandma standing in the patio doorway; when she saw me looking, a smile–the same warm smile she wore when we’d first arrived– broke over her face.
It just wasn’t the same for me.
“Hi Grandma,” I said, smiling. Was I performing for her? My mom?
Everyone?
“Come on in dear. Lunch is ready.”
**
Night. Sleepless. The words of the neighbor kids, of mom, rolled around in my head. There was another word, too.
Help.
I thought back to the night I had gone to the basement. Even if I were just imagining things, why did Grandma keep her doll collection in the basement? Why was she so warm and friendly except for that one space?
A plan formed in my head, and with it, any hope of sleep crumbled apart. I couldn’t rest.
I crept down the stairs again. To the basement door. The orange light burned beneath it, promising my grandmother’s presence- and who knows what else.
But I didn’t go in. Instead, I made my way down the hall, out toward the backdoor. Gingerly, I slid it open, slipped out, and closed it behind me. Carefully, I did the same with the fence, and then Painstakingly, I picked my way over the grass, dead leaves, and rocks, every painful step punishing me for not thinking to grab my shoes beforehand.
But then I stood in the front yard. The whoosh of constantly blowing wind covered my panting breaths, and the cloudy sky above broke so that the moonlight illuminated this section of the neighborhood.
No streetlights by grandma’s house. The ones across the street didn’t quite reach….
But in those ground level windows, the basement glowed with the orange fire of candles. You wouldn’t see it from the sidewalk, on account of the overgrown yard.
Gingerly, I started creeping toward the nearest basement window.
As I did, the wind picked up, cold, violent. I stumbled, almost fell, even, but caught myself on the edge of the house.
Carefully, I advanced along the wall.
A sound buried in the wind rose to the surface, a low, guttural moaning. I struggled to control my shivering body.
Painstakingly, I crouched by the window and peered inside.
It was even worse than last time.
The shadows of the dolls on the shelf against the window created a silhouetted landscape of hills, globes, and valleys. Through the gaps I could see the cobblestone floor, countless other dolls on countless other shelves.
Staring straight at me.
Was it the wind playing tricks?
Help.
Help us.
There, almost directly below me, my grandmother. She worked in profile, bent over the table.
Gingerly pinching fabric together. Fabric so fine, so smooth it may have had pores and freckles.
Carefully, she pulled needle and thread back and forth, back and forth, the seam and the needle gleaming crimson.
Painstakingly, she stitched a big, slow grin across the face of the doll. Just as she finished–
A scream.
I was so enraptured, I thought it mine for a second—
Grandma did too, based on the way she turned and glared.
But no.
It was behind me.
It was out on the street.
A dark shape, crumpled over on itself. The wind howling and whistling, funneling past me so hard I tumbled over, up against the basement window. The sharp crack of glass brought me back to my senses. I peered into the basement, but it was dark, and Grandma was gone.
I pressed my face to the glass, my eyes scanning the darkness, but I could see nothing. I turned my face left and right, wincing as I cut my cheek on the window.
“What are you doing?!” Grandma’s raspy voice broke through the darkness. I jumped and turned to find her standing on the front porch, glaring at me.
“I told you to stay out of the basement!”
Perhaps a bit smugly, I said “But I wasn’t in the basement.”
“Stubborn—Listen—” Grandma looked around. “it’s not safe for you to be out at night! It’s not safe for you in the basement! Just behave!”
She grabbed me by my wrist, and casting one more frenzied gaze around at the street, hauled me in the house.