There is a creepy old house at the end of a creepy dead end lane not far from where I live. The neighbors say that the lady who lives there alone is a deranged serial killer who didn’t get caught…or a hideous witch…or is just plain crazy. As far as I’m concerned she could be any one of those…or all three for that matter…but I know her as something different. She is my Aunt Alice.
My father’s sister is 20 years older than him and her kids, my cousins, were all grown up and moved out before I was even born. Her husband died of cancer when I was just a baby. I barely know her because for many years she lived in another city but a few years ago she moved here to that spooky looking house. Now I have to go visit her.
When she was away we never visited and since she has moved here my parents go to see her infrequently and always without me. When they return home my mom usually has a gift for me from my Aunt. Her boys are more than twenty years older than me and off on their own but Alice always seems to find old hand-me-down clothes and toys and books of theirs to send me.
Now mom and dad are out of town for a few days and I am going to be staying with Alice while they are gone. I could easily stay home and take care of myself but mom said some nonsense about it being illegal to leave a 12 year old alone. So now it’s Monday afternoon and instead of walking home from school I’m walking to meet my demise at the house of horrors.
As I arrive at the house it looks quiet and normal but I know that danger lurks within. I turn around to take another walk around the block trying to delay the inevitable fate that awaits me. Once I pass through that ominous door I’ll probably never be seen again…not alive anyways.
I only take a few steps before a car turns the corner and proceeds towards me very slowly. It is driving down the middle of the road and wandering slightly from one side to the other occupying both lanes. As it gets closer I can see a grey haired woman who can barely see above the steering wheel. She is staring intensely directly ahead but her focus is not making the creeping vehicle go any straighter.
She passes by not even noticing me standing at the side of the road. I turn to follow and find that I can walk almost as fast as she drives. I find amusement in the fact that if my dad were following someone who drove so slow I would be hearing a colorful selection of his favorite cuss words. My amusement is short lived as my thoughts turn to the harsh reality that awaits me.
Gears grind as she puts the transmission into park while the car is still moving. Then the motor inexplicably roars for a few seconds belching out a cloud of blue smoke before sputtering to a coughing halt. As I cautiously reach the end of the driveway the door opens with a creak and she gets out and looks at me.
After a puzzled moment she recognizes me. I don’t recognize her. I can’t remember the last time that I saw her and this is not what I pictured her looking like. She wore a black dress that was inappropriately short for a woman of her age with black stockings and a pair of shiny black pumps with short spiky heels. Her long grey hair was tied back into a ponytail with a black lace ribbon and hanging from her ears were black pearl earrings that matched the beaded string around her neck. Her outfit told me what I needed to know…she was a witch.
Her wide lips, thickly coated with bright red lipstick, broke into a big smile and her pale blue eyes had a sinister sparkle. She was pleased to see her next victim. Her plus size figure tells me that she eats well and I’m am probably next on the menu.
‘You must be Nelson’ she cackles in a hoarse voice ‘come in, come in, it will be nice to have you here.’ Then she leads the way into the house. I have heard that decaying bodies stink badly but this house only smells musty like old books. Maybe she buries the corpses in the basement to hide the smell.
‘Your mom told me you have to do your homework before supper but first come sit with me and tell about yourself, I hardly know anything about you.’
I followed her through the kitchen and into the living room where she sat in an old rocking chair and gestured for me to sit on a worn out armchair next to her. I hesitated for a moment to examine the seat for any sort of trap that it may have in store for me. I really had no idea what I was looking for and decided to sit in spite of my better instincts.
She quizzed me about whether I liked school and what sports I played and if I had a girlfriend. I answered her questions but remained alert for her to spring up from the creaky chair and grab me by the neck. My paranoia had me on edge and there was only one thing to be done for it…I had to strike first.
The lamp on the table beside me was plugged into the outlet with a long extension cord. I casually reached over and took hold of it trying not to attract her attention. I gradually pulled the cord towards me until I was able to unplug the lamp. I jumped up and gave the cord a hard yank and the other end flew from the outlet.
I quickly wrapped it around her and the chair twice just above her waist and knotted it securing her to the chair. ‘What are you doing…’ she began to say in her raspy voice but I stuffed a doily from the table into her mouth to silence her and prevent her from casting a spell on me. The curtains were tied back with red decorative cords and I grabbed one and cleave gagged her to hold the doily in.
My victory was in doubt though. I had immobilized her hands and silenced her voice but had no idea if a witch could cast a spell with her feet. I searched frantically for something to tie her ankles. The other curtain tie was handy and I grabbed it and approached her with caution.
In spite of the gag she mmphed at me trying to say the evil incantation that would render me helpless. Her deep muffled voice got louder and I realized that she was saying one word over and over again like a mantra. Even though I thought I had rendered her power of speech useless she was able to utter the single word that would cast a spell over me and make me halt my assault.
Cookies!
I tossed the cord aside and removed the gag.
‘If you are going to kidnap me’ she asked ‘could I please pay my ransom in cookies.’
Minutes later I was sitting with my Aunt, now my favorite Aunt, in the kitchen with a tall glass of cold milk and a bag of Oreo cookies. They tasted like they hadn’t been tampered with, not that I knew what frogs tongues or bats toes tasted like anyways.
After half a dozen of the tasty discs I wasn’t turning into a mindless zombie or paralyzed like a rotting corpse and had to concede that maybe she wasn’t a nasty witch after all…or maybe just a good witch who likes eating cookies more than eating brains.
As she sent me to do my homework she said ‘That was a fun game, can we play it again, maybe tomorrow?’
‘Sure we can play again’ I replied ‘how about tonight?’