Jess's Story Read online

  The witch continued taking items out of her bag, identifying them as she went. “Coconut milk. Curry paste. Lime.”

  “Paste. Is that to glue the coconut milk to the lime?”

  “I am going to combine them.” She surveyed the park. “Let’s see. We need a grill. The sauce has to be reduced slightly to concentrate the flavor.”

  Jess pointed to the witch’s black bag. “Please tell me you don’t have charcoal in there, too.”

  “Not at the moment. But there’s every chance those people who were grilling hot dogs earlier left some embers.”

  “I sure hope not.”

  Ms. M led the way toward a cluster of picnic tables. She put her things down on the nearest one and held her hand over the grate on the grill. “Lucky us. Will you find the ginger root, garlic, and cilantro in my bag, please? And while you’re in there, see if you don’t run into my mortar and pestle.”

  “That thing of my mom’s you showed me yesterday?”

  “Like that, but smaller. Traveling size.”

  Jess opened the worn black bag and peered inside. She opened it wider. Then wider still. No matter how wide the opening got, there was nothing but darkness. “I can’t see anything.”

  “Sorry, I packed the Transylvanian tofu in night to keep it fresh. The darkness will evaporate eventually. Just feel around if you don’t want to wait.”

  Jess touched something soft. Something soft that squeaked. She yanked her hand out really fast. “What was that?”

  “Probably just a bat left over from . . . Well, never mind. Here.” She pulled the bag toward her. “Let me.” Out came the bowl-shaped mortar with ginger, garlic, and cilantro nestled inside.

  “The cilantro is fresh from your mother’s garden. Would you like to work with that or grill the tofu?”

  “I would rather eat my tennis racquet.”

  Ms. M acted as if Jess hadn’t said a word. “I’ll mince a few things and then you can grind them a bit.”

  Using the cleanest part of the picnic table, the witch chopped and minced efficiently. She swept the pieces into the mortar, which she handed to Jess along with the pestle. “Introduce the ingredients to each other gently,” Ms. M advised.

  “What?”

  “Don’t pound too hard.”

  With the fatter, rounded end of the pestle, Jess rhythmically mashed the contents of the bowl. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. As she worked, the air around her began to smell like another country. Somewhere tropical and kind of mysterious.

  Ms. M stopped slicing tofu and inhaled. “I love the combination of ginger and garlic,” she said. “So pungent and intriguing.”

  “You sound like my mom.”

  “Tart, savory, umami,” said the witch. “Smoky, peppery, luscious. Cooking is a whole other language, isn’t it?”

  “Like Dog.”

  Ms. M laughed. “With a bigger vocabulary.”

  She set the tofu slices on the grill, reached into her bag again, and came up with a small cauldron, about the size of a soccer ball. “Let’s put your ingredients in here. We’ll add the coconut milk, the peanut butter, and those veggies I chopped earlier and let it all cook for just a minute.”

  “Where did you get that little thing?”

  The witch looked at the cauldron and frowned. “Probably some supernatural foods store.” Then her face brightened. “Oh, now I remember. Ethel and I picked it up at an outdoor market in Costa Rica.”

  “Are you going to keep looking for Ethel?”

  “Of course. I’ve been getting messages about her lately.”

  Jess peered down into the cauldron. The soupy mixture blurped back at her. “Messages from who?”

  “From everywhere. The air is always full of messages. Most people are too busy to pay attention.”

  The witch took two slices of tofu off the grill, slipped them onto a paper plate, and placed it on the table in front of Jess.

  “One piece is really enough,” she said. “More than enough.”

  “Wait and see,” the witch said, spooning peanut sauce onto the plate.

  Jess regarded her lunch with dismay. “Are you sure there’s no tuna in your bag?”

  “Go ahead. It’s delicious.”

  Jess cut off a tiny corner of the tofu with a plastic fork, brought it slowly to her mouth, hesitated, then closed her eyes and chewed.

  “Wow.” Her eyes flew open. “This is amazing.”

  The witch grinned as she helped herself, then sat beside Jess. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Chapter 11

  The Secrets of Sorcery

  Later, after they’d been home from the park for a while, Ms. M put down her glass of iced tea and said, “I saw a dart board in your family room. Shall we play?”

  Jess got to her feet. “Grab a spoon,” she said. “Cause you’re about to taste defeat.”

  Moments later Ms. M flexed all ten fingers. “I want to warn you,” she said. “I have a wicked wrist snap.”

  “Oh,” Jess said, “now I’m scared.”

  The witch stepped up to the invisible line. Held her darts close to her face. Caressed their little wings. Whispered something Jess couldn’t hear. Then she threw. Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Three darts clustered near the bull’s-eye.

  “That was so not fair,” Jess grumbled.

  “Why?”

  “Because you used magic words again.”

  “One magic word,” Ms. M corrected, swinging her arms back and forth, as if stretching. “But you’re absolutely right. I don’t want to have an advantage. I like facing a formidable opponent. So let me reveal to you one of the secrets of sorcery.”

  Jess stepped up to the invisible line. Held her darts close to her face. Caressed their little wings. Looked at Ms. M.

  “Please,” said the witch.

  “Please what?”

  “Please is the magic word.”

  Jess laughed. “You sound like my mom.”

  “Really?” Ms. M studied Jess with a thoughtful expression. “Then your mother must have told you that, for someone with your athleticism, pretty please can be even more effective.” She mimed a throw. “Gives you that little extra zing in the air.”

  “If you say so.” Jess took aim. “Pretty please.” Whoosh! “Pretty please.” Whoosh! “Pretty please.” Whoosh!

  Dead center! Her darts had even knocked two of Ms. M’s darts to the ground. The witch scurried over to retrieve them. “Thank you,” she murmured as she bent down. Then another “thank you” as she plucked her third dart from the board.

  “Is that part of the spell, too?”

  “What spell? It’s just good manners.” The witch set her darts on the little square table next to the couch. She held her sleeve in front of her mouth to cover a yawn. “So much exercise for one day! I’m going to sleep like a sea otter tonight. Maybe better.” She patted the fat arm of the sofa. “Since your couch is much more comfortable than a bed of kelp, and I won’t be on my back holding a clam.”

  “I guess it’s okay for you guys to stay here again.” Jess hesitated. “But—”

  “Just for one more night,” Ms. M assured her. “I talked to my friend, and her grandchildren are on that plane to Cleveland early tomorrow.” The witch gestured toward the window. “Leave that unlocked, and Onyx and I won’t even have to disturb you. We’ll slip right in.”

  “But my mom—”

  “Yes. Here’s your mother now.”

  Jess peered through the blinds. “I don’t think so.”

  Humming, Ms. M put the darts back in their aluminum case and handed it to Jess as the front door opened.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Your mother said she’d be home about six.” The witch pointed to the clock. “It’s about six. Let’s go say hi.”

  They found her mother in the entryway, clutching a white paper bag. Jess wrapped her arms around her. The bag crinkled between them. Jess breathed in deeply. “You smell like an onion. But in a good way. What’s in the bag?”

&n
bsp; “Something for dinner.” Her mother rested her chin on top of Jess’s head. “Everything go okay today?” she said, addressing Ms. M.

  “More than okay,” said the witch.

  Jess stepped back. “Ms. M is the best babysitter ever. Not that I need one.”

  The witch nodded. “You did fight off that ravenous wolf pack all by yourself.”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” said Jess’s mother as she hung her slightly stained white chef’s jacket on the brass hook by the door. “I’m glad you two had fun. Come into the kitchen and tell me about it. Would you like a cup of tea, Ms. M?”

  “Do you have decaf?” She raised her eyebrows at Jess. “We don’t want me up all night.”

  In the kitchen doorway, Ms. M and Jess played no-no-you-go-first, laughing and trying to squeeze through at the same time. They settled next to each other on stools at the counter.

  Jess’s mother filled the kettle, stared into the empty sink, and frowned. Placing the kettle on the stove, she opened the dishwasher and shook her head. “There are no dirty dishes. Did you feed my daughter anything?”

  “She’s right here,” Ms. M said gently. “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “We had a picnic at the park and”—Jess paused for dramatic effect—“I ate tofu.”

  “With peanut sauce,” Ms. M added.

  “Well. I’m amazed. Truly.” The teakettle began to whistle. Jess’s mother ignored it at first and then, as if suddenly waking from a trance, reached over and clicked off the burner. “I almost forgot, Chef Paul gave me the day off tomorrow to do a catering job. I’ll be at home baking. So let me pay you for today, Ms. M, and then we’ll see you again on Friday.”

  “If you don’t mind, could you wait and pay me then? I love abundance.”

  “Of course.” Jess’s mother opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator. “Let’s see, I have chamomile or lemon ginger or peppermint. Which would you like?”

  “They all sound wonderful, but I really should be going.” Ms. M hopped down from her stool. “It’s getting late. Jess, walk me to the door?”

  On their way out of the kitchen, Jess glanced over her shoulder. She whispered, “Could I come down later and say good night?”

  The witch put her small, warm hand over Jess’s. “I would love that. I have to pick up Onyx from day care at Gato Cielo and then feed him dinner. We should be back before you’re asleep.”

  “Cat day care?”

  “He especially loves the Cabana Veranda. There’s a Robodog out there that he and his friends can torment. And he has his own cushion if he wants to nap.” Ms. M adjusted her hat. “The day care provider came highly recommended.”

  The door seemed to open itself. Ms. M tottered down the walk a few yards. Jess looked away for a moment when she heard the scrape of a kitchen chair, and by the time she looked back Ms. M was gone.

  Chapter 12

  Oozy and Blobby

  Jess giggled as she pulled herself back onto her stool. She imagined Onyx at day care, learning how to share his yarn balls and taking turns at the scratching post.

  “What’s so funny?” Her mother chopped carrots into identical sticks. Lined up together, they looked like a tiny orange fence.

  “Just something Ms. M said.”

  Dust specks chased each other lazily through the stream of evening sun flowing in from the window. The knife played a smack-smack rhythm against the cutting board. Jess stretched her arms over her head. They felt a little stiff. A little sore. A lot nice. This was almost the best part of playing sports, the happy-tired feeling afterward.

  “I’m glad Ms. M is getting you to be more adventurous,” her mother said, piling carrot sticks on Jess’s favorite blue plate. “I don’t know how many tofu dishes I’ve made for you and your dad. You wouldn’t touch them.”

  “Mom, Ms. M’s was good!”

  Her mother turned away to put a plastic container in the microwave. “Mine were good, too. If you’d tried them, you’d know that.”

  How did this always happen? One minute her mother was glad she ate tofu. The next minute she was scolding her for not devouring tofu every day of her life. On the court Jess could drive to the basket and sink lay-up after lay-up. But here in the kitchen with her mother? Nothing but air balls.

  Whatever was cooking in the microwave began to smell . . . suspicious. The timer dinged. Her mother took out the container and lifted the lid. Steam rose like mist in a graveyard. “Are you hungry? This mac and cheese from Chef Paul’s is amazing.”

  It didn’t look amazing. It looked oozy. It looked blobby. And the smell? Like the inside of her high-tops when she forgot to wear socks.

  “The truffle oil is delicious, I promise.” Her mother dug a big wooden spoon into the glop.

  Jess had to move fast! She pulled her plate away. “Aren’t truffles those mushrooms pigs dig up in the forest? I remember when you told me that instead of reading Goodnight Moon. No, thanks.”

  Her mother sighed. “You can’t just eat carrots. What about—”

  “Really, I’m still full from lunch. I’ll have some cereal later, maybe.”

  Jess retreated to the couch with her carrots. Arranged them into a fence again. A fence with her on one side and her mom on the other.

  As she crunched, she tried to get back the feeling from before. She thought about Ms. M’s amazing jump shots, the tennis game, the sun and shade, the bird sounds Sadie would have loved. She remembered the splintery park bench, the witch’s crooked smile and silly hat. The yummy peanut sauce.

  Gliding back into the kitchen with her empty plate, she saw her mother alone at the table. One cup of tea, one saucer of mac and cheese, one fork.

  Jess walked up behind her. Draped her body over hers. Her mother gave Jess’s arms a big squeeze.

  “I know it’s early, honey, but I’m thinking of going to bed pretty soon.”

  “Okay, but don’t kiss me good night. You have truffle breath!”

  Chapter 13

  Mothers and Daughters

  Jess got into her pajamas, but not under the covers. She grabbed a comic book and tried to read, but every little sound distracted her:

  A car going by (not Ms. M).

  A dog barking (not Ms. M).

  The toilet flushing (probably not Ms. M).

  A breeze moving the branches of the walnut tree (possibly Ms. M?).

  A meow . . .

  “Onyx!”

  She lifted the window screen, and in he came, leaping to the bed, turning in a circle a few times, and rolling onto his back. Jess rubbed his tummy. “Where’s Ms. M?”

  The cat twisted out from under her hand, thumped down to the rug, and stood near the door. “Okay,” Jess said. “But we have to be quiet. Mom’s probably not asleep yet.”

  She followed Onyx down the carpeted stairs and into the family room, where Ms. M was in the process of unfolding the blanket. “I tried to convince him to come in with me,” the witch said. “But he’s athletic. He wanted to climb.”

  “What about Mom’s allergies?” Jess asked.

  “Thank you for reminding me!” Ms. M reached beside the couch and lifted the cauldron lid. “I’m trying a slightly different aromatherapy recipe tonight. Less sage, more eucalyptus.”

  A sweet, prickly odor filled the room. It reminded Jess of a forest. As if the outdoors had come in. “That actually smells good. Unlike the macaroni and motor oil Mom tried to feed me for dinner. I think she was kind of disappointed that I didn’t go ‘Yum!’ and grab a spoon.”

  The witch sat down heavily. “Mothers and daughters. Mine wanted me to be just like her. I’ve never seen anyone so organized. She alphabetized everything. Baseball bats next to the beets. Peppermint right beside the porcupine.”

  “You had a pet porcupine?”

  “Not for long. Peppermint made Hector sneeze.”

  Onyx jumped onto the witch’s lap, wound around inside her arm, and laid his head against her heart. Jess knelt on the floor in front of them and stroked the cat’
s face, right under his ear. “Ms. M, do you and your mom still fight?”

  “Constantly. Or not at all. Depending on how you look at it.” She gently slid the sleeping Onyx onto the couch cushion. “Whenever she visits, she rearranges everything in my cupboards. Then when she leaves, I arrange it right back the way it was.” Ms. M leaned forward and tugged at her pointy shoe. “Would you give me a hand, dear?”

  Jess wrestled off one shoe, then the other. “Red socks. Cool.”

  “To harness the energy of the physical world. Ethel gave them to me last Christmas.” The witch wiggled her toes appreciatively. “I’ve been thinking about Ethel a lot lately. And now all this talk about cupboards has me missing my little house.”

  Worry fluttered in Jess’s chest. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

  “Goodness, no. I never travel at night.”

  Just then Jess’s mother called from upstairs. “Jess? Are you watching TV?”

  Jess hurried to the door. “I’m getting a drink.”

  “I thought I heard voices.”

  “I was telling the water to hurry up and get cold.”

  “Well, get your drink and come back to bed. I have a long day tomorrow. I need to be rested.”

  Ms. M placed her hat on the floor beside her shoes, squeezed in next to Onyx, and pulled the blanket up to their chins.

  “See you Friday, Ms. M,” Jess whispered.

  “Or sooner,” said the witch in a sleepy voice.

  “But you’ll be gone in the morning, right?”

  The answer was a soft snore.

  Chapter 14

  Schnriwisvheirecnkwilbel

  Sadie and Maya came over right after breakfast. Jess led them into the family room.

  “Ms. M and Onyx slept here last night?” Sadie’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe they were here for two whole days, and you didn’t tell us.”

  “I tried,” Jess explained. “The phone wouldn’t let me.”