My Unwilling Witch Sleeps Over Read online

  Copyright

  Text copyright © 2007 by Hiawyn Oram

  Illustrations copyright © 2007 by Sarah Warburton

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of l976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

  Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  www.twitter.com/littlebrown

  Little, Brown Books for Young Readers is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc. The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  First eBook Edition: August 2009

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-316-07887-0

  Contents

  Copyright

  Contract of Service

  A Short History of How You Come to be Reading My Very Private Diaries

  Rumblewick Spellwacker Mortimer B

  Foggy Night in the Far Quagmires

  Back at Thirteen Chimneys after Getting Lost and Diverted by the JIM

  JIM Day the First Night

  Later

  HA Gets an Even Worse Invitation Day Night

  Much Later, So Late It's Nearly Dawning

  HA Bubbles over and the Snoop Comes Snooping

  My Brilliant Plan

  My Brilliant Plan Continues

  My Brilliant Plan Backfires

  “Saturday” Night—Nearly Dawning

  Girl Band Discovery Day Night

  To Giselle and Nicola, for being so incredibly good H.O.

  For Lizzie S.W.

  CONTRACT OF SERVICE

  between

  WITCH HAGATHA AGATHA, Haggy Aggy for short, HA for shortest of Thirteen Chimneys, Wizton-under-Wold

  &

  the Witch's Familiar,

  RUMBLEWICK SPELLWACKER MORTIMER B, RB for short

  It is hereby agreed that, come

  FIRE, Brimstone, CAULDRONS overflowing,

  or ALIEN WIZARDS invading,

  for the NEXT SEVEN YEARS

  RB will serve HA,

  obey her EVERY WHIM AND WORD and at all times assist her

  in the ways of being a true and proper WITCH.

  PAYMENT for services will be:

  a log basket to sleep in unlimited slime buns for breakfast

  free use of HA's broomsticks (outside of peak brooming hours)

  and a cracked mirror for luck.

  PENALTY for failing in his duties will be decided on the whim of

  THE HAGS on HIGH.

  SIGNED AND SEALED

  this New Moon Day, 22nd of Remember

  Witch Hagatha Agatha Rumblewick Spellwaker Mortimer B

  And witnessed by the High Hag Trixie Fiddlestick

  A SHORT HISTORY OF HOW YOU COME TO BE READING MY VERY PRIVATE DIARIES

  In a snail shell, they were STOLEN. Oh yes, no less. My witch, Haggy Aggy (HA for short), sneaked into my log basket and helped herself.

  According to her, this is what happened:

  On one of her many shopping trips to Your Side she met a Book Wiz. (I am told you call them publishers, though Wiz seems more fitting as they make books appear, as if by magic, every day of the week.)

  Anyway, this Book Wiz/publisher wanted HA to write an account of HER life as a witch here on Our Side. Of course, HA wasn't willing to do that. Being the most unwilling witch in witchdom, she is far too busy shopping, watching TV, not cackling, being anything BUT a witch, and getting me into trouble with the High Hags * as a result.

  The Book Wiz begged on her knees (apparently) and offered HA a life's supply of shoes if she came up with something. So HA did. She came up with THIS—MY DIARIES. ALL OF THEM!!!!

  Of course, when I wrote the diaries, I was not expecting anyone to read them. Let alone Othersiders like you. But as you are, here is a word to the wise about how things work between us:

  1. We are here on THIS SIDE and you are there on the OTHER SIDE.

  2. Between us is the HORIZON LINE.

  3. You don't see we're here, on This Side, living our lives, because for you the Horizon Line is always a day away. You can walk for a thousand moons (or more for all I know), but you'll never reach it.

  4. On the other paw, we know you're there because we visit you all the time. This is partly because of broomsticks. A broomstick has no trouble with any Horizon Line anywhere. A broomstick (with one or more of us upon it) just flies straight through.

  And it has to be like that because scaring Otherside children into their wits is part of witches' work. In fact it is Number One on the Witches' Charter of Good Practice (see copy glued at the back).

  On the other paw, it is NOWHERE in the Charter for a witch to go over to Your Side to make friends and try to be and do everything you are and do—as my witch, Haggy Aggy, does.

  But then, that's my giant problem: being cat to a witch who doesn't want to be one. And as you will see from these diaries, it makes my life a right BAG OF HEDGEHOGS. So all I can say is, if HA tries to make friends with YOU, send her straight back to This Side with a spider in her ear.

  Thank you,

  THIS DIARY BELONGS TO:

  RUMBLEWICK Spellwacker Mortimer B

  RUMBLEWICK for short, RB for shortest

  ADDRESS:

  Thirteen Chimneys,

  Wizton-under-Wold, This Side

  Bird's Eye View: 331 N by WW

  TELEPHONE:

  77+3-5+1-7

  NEAREST OTHERSIDE TELEPHONE:

  Ditch and Candleberry Bush Street,

  N by SE Over the Horizon

  BIRTHDAY:

  Windy Day 23rd Magogary

  EDUCATION:

  The Awethunder School for Familiars

  12-Moon Apprenticeship to the

  High Hag Witch Trixie Fiddlestick

  QUALIFICATIONS:

  Certified Witch's Familiar

  CURRENT EMPLOYMENT:

  Seven-year contract with Witch Hagatha Agatha,

  Haggy Aggy for short, HA for shortest

  HOBBIES:

  Cathastics, Point-to-Point Shrewing, Languages

  NEXT OF KIN:

  Uncle Sherbet (retired Witch's Familiar)

  Moldy Old Cottage,

  Flying Teapot Street,

  Prancetown

  Foggy Night in the Far Quagmires

  Dear Diary,

  Sorry if this looks skew-wiggle. We're sleeping over at Haggy Aggy's aunt's in the Far Quagmires—and I'm writing under the spare bed, by the light of a tired firefly.

  We only came for our usual once-a-moon drop-in. But then the fog came down and Pondernot (HA's aunt) wouldn't let us fly home in it.

  Haggy Aggy is in the bed, tossing and turning so hard, she's sending the mattress straw flying—all over me and all over you. I'm certain she's sleeping so badly on purpose—as a protest—because she doesn't want to be here.

  And I can sympathize with that. Pondernot is a bent little witch with rosy cheeks.

  To look at her you'd think she couldn't bring a brew to a bubble in a boiling cauldron.

  But one thing is certainly boiling about her: only she, in the whole universe, is able to make HA feel RUBBLEROT about not being a more willing witch.

  And this visit, thanks to her snooping Familiar—Sassy Elevenlives Selfright—there's been more than usual to make HA feel RUBBL
EROT about.

  Apparently last Ghastly night, Sassy the Snoop “just happened” to drop in to the Deep Ditch in Wizton—a favorite Familiars' haunt.

  While she was there, it “just happened” that the High Hags' Familiars came in.

  (Well, surprise, surprise, as everyone knows they always go to the Deep Ditch on Ghastly night.)

  It also “just happened” that their tattlechat was all about HA and how their Hags suspect she's trying to become less of a witch and more of an Othersider with every moon that passes.

  I can imagine the Snoop couldn't get home fast enough to tell Pondernot. And, furnished with this information, Pondernot has been making HA feel like complete GRUBSPIT

  Not by harrying and pointing her pointing finger. She never does that. But by getting under HA's skin with sharp little needles of “deep disappointment.” Somehow making HA feel GUILTY for getting HER a bad reputation by association.

  Now, while on the one paw I wish I had Pondernot's ability to do this, on the other I'm glad I do not.

  For one good reason: feeling guilty does not suit Haggy Aggy.

  It puts her in a mood so dark it's as if she's under a personal eclipse of the sun and moon and can't see her own foot in front of her.

  And that's the mood she's in right now—the mood that's making her sleep so badly I can no longer see what I'm writing for all the straw. Mind you, no point in wasting good napping material.

  I think I'll take thirty-one winks.

  Good night.

  Back at Thirteen Chimneys after Getting Lost and Diverted by the JIM

  Dear Diary,

  We're home, thank the stars. Back from the Far Quagmires, though by no means out of the “quagmire.”

  To continue: what with the grubspit feelings of guilt and having to sleep over—by the time the fog lifted and we came to leave Pondernot's—HA's mood was so dark she could hardly see her way out of the front door.

  Though I was standing there ready with our broomstick, she walked straight past me and nearly fell into one of the bog fires in what Pondernot fondly calls her “garden.”

  This put HA into an even fouler mood. Followed by an even fouler one, when Pondernot said with a crooked smile, “Now, my dear, you know how much it would upset me to see a fully fledged witch being flown by her Familiar. So I hope you'll be flying that broomstick home yourself as any AUNT-RESPECTING witch would do.”

  With a thundery snarl, HA grabbed our broomstick, mounted it, and took off with barely time for me to leap on behind.

  Well, the truth is, Diary, in the dark mood she was in, HA should NOT have been flying anything, anywhere. Let alone from the Far Quagmires to Wizton-under-Wold.

  It requires much alertness of the stars above and landmarks below. It should NEVER be attempted by one in a personal eclipse and hardly able to see her own flying hand in front of her.

  So, inevitably, in spite of my attempts to navigate from the back of the broom, WE WENT THE WRONG WAY.

  We went so wrong, we ended up crossing the Horizon and flying uselessly hither and thither on the Other Side, until HA said she was feeling so sick she was going to fall off.

  I took my life in my paws, clung and clawed my way past her to take over the flying, and quickly brought us down—as I thought safely—on the nearest suitable landing place.

  As it turned out, it wasn't safe or suitable.

  It was the roof of a building in which, HA was soon to discover, Otherside children go to do JIM (similar to cathastics, if a clumsier version).

  And now that we were off-broomstick and away from guilt and the Far Quagmires, HA's dark mood suddenly lifted.

  Her sun and moon came out again.

  She dangled cheerfully from the water pipes of the building, so she could peer in and eavesdrop at a half-open window.

  “Oh RB,” she cried, “do take a look.

  “There are darling girls in there doing what they call ‘JIM’—leaping, tumbling, propelling, and turning free through the air. No springs on their feet, no wings on their shoulders! Oh, how I'd love to be what they be and do what they do. And do you know what? Because I would love to, I've decided I will! ”

  Well, you know Haggy Aggy.

  Once she's decided, she's decided.

  So forget Pondernot's guiltifyings about being more Other Side than This Side.

  An otherside JIM girl what HA is going to be!!

  I mean, we've only been home five tads of tell and she's already turned herself into a JIM Girl Lookalike.

  And magicked up a JIM bag full of JIM wear so tomorrow she can join the “darling JIM girls” in their JIMMY activities.

  She is in her room now, trying out a spell she made me invent the moment we came in the door—namely The Triple-Turn-in-Air-without-Landing-in-a-Complete-Splat spell.

  I don't know how but I've got to keep this from the tattlechat at the Deep Ditch.

  Imagine if Sassy the Snoop hears of it and informs Aunt Pondernot?

  All I can say is, dark moodwise, better not ponder it!

  JIM Day the First Night

  Dear Diary,

  Talk about being exhausted. I've had to spend all afternoon in that JIM building tucked down in HA's JIM bag, “OBSERVING AND LEARNING SO AS TO HELP HER BECOME A GREAT JIMMER.”

  And then, since we got home, I've had to invent four more spells, “using what I've observed and learned.”

  All, please note, when I was supposed to be somewhere quite else—at practice for the Grand Steeplechase Race!!

  More of that later.

  For here are all five spells (which she's asked me to set in a booklet she can tuck into her JIM pants for easy reference).

  Spell 1

  THE TRIPLE-TURN-IN-AIR-WITHOUT-LANDING-IN-A-COMPLETE-SPLAT SPELL

  Tuck yourself up tight as a catkin bud in a witch's hat and chant:

  My feet are sprung like springy springs

  My feet so sprung will give me wings

  And stepping from this witch's hat

  I'll fly up from the gymnast's mat

  And in a wondrous sky-high bound

  I'll have the time to turn me round

  Not once, not twice, but three times over

  Then land as if I land in CLOVER.

  Spell 2

  THE FIY-OVER-THE-HORSE SPELL

  Make your broomstick invisible using any reliable invisible Broomstick spell. Lie on “the horse” and chant with authority:

  You are no longer lifeless

  You are a living horse

  As vaulting you I must he

  You'll help me in my course

  And as I come a-flying

  You'll be there for my hands

  While making very, very sure

  You're NOT there when I lands.

  Spell 3

  THE GLUED-ON-A-BEAM SPELL

  Mix one dollop spider's web jam, one dollop burr jelly, one dollop pine tree goo. Just before you mount the balance beam, apply mixture to soles of your shoes or feet and chant:

  I will stay, I will stick

  I will never stumble

  See my feet return so neat

  From each leap and tumble

  I'm so stable, I'm so able

  I can make the team

  I am glued on like I'm screwed on—

  TO THIS BALANCE BEAM.

  Spell 4

  THE NO-HANDS-SWING-BARS SPELL

  When called to mount the bars, twirl on your left foot backwards seven times while chanting inwardly:

  I am so sure between these bars

  I circle, swing, release

  It seems I am a Spinning Wheel

  My speed I don't decrease.

  I am supreme between these bars

  I hardly need them there

  One giant swing and look—no hands—I am at home in air.

  Spell 5

  THE ELEVENTEEN-TUMBLES-IN-A-ROW SPELL

  Sprinkle yourself liberally with sawdust eleventeen times, and on the eleventeenth shout:

/>   Eleventeen tumbles in a row

  Here I go, here I go.

  Nothing can stop me,

  No one can top me

  I'm the One-Witch-Girl-Tumble Show!

  Not bad, given I've only been acquainted with JIM for SOCKS, SOCKS, TADPOLES IN SOCKS!

  What's going on. The whole house is shaking. Is it the end of the universe? Be back when I've found out

  Later

  Dear Diary,

  Sorry to keep you in suspense. It wasn't the end of the universe or even Wizton-under-Wold.

  Apparently, at JIM, HA made friends with two JIM GIRLS named Zinnia and Tulip. They've invited her for a shake at a nearby Shake Shop after JIMMING tomorrow.

  So, because HA always has to be the best at everything (except being a proper witch), she has been practicing her shake.

  Well, I hope they don't invite her every day.

  I mean, look at this place!

  I'll be working till dawn unshaking it.

  HA Gets an Even Worse Invitation Day Night

  Dear Diary

  Can you believe this? HA got it all wrong. A Shake Shop is not a place you go to shake yourself till the universe trembles. It is a kind of Gatheria where you meet with your friends—to slurp googuff through hollow reeds called straws.

  When HA discovered this, she picked up her JIM bag (me in it) and rushed to the Shake Shop bathroom. Here, she had the nerve to give me an ear-wigging!