Wilhelmina Wingely
Chapter 3
“Don't look now but we're being watched,” Aislin whispered to Wilhelmina. Two boys were peering down at them from the bridge above the culvert.
“Aren't you girls a little too old to be trick-or-treating at 3:30?” questioned one of the boys. Aislin turned around and fixed her eyes on them.
The other boy smiled at Wilhelmina. “Nice witch costume. What is your friend supposed to be?”
“And who wants to know?” asked Aislin.
“I'm Jeff and this is my friend Mark,” said the boy, leaning on his bike.
“Have ya ever heard of a banshee?” Aislin asked.
“Yeah, but aren't banshees supposed to be ugly?” asked Mark.
“Only if they're angry,” Aislin laughed.
“I don't think you'd be ugly even if you were angry,” flirted Jeff.
Aislin turned away.
“Oh look, she's shy,” said Mark, elbowing his buddy.
When Aislin turned around, transformed from a pretty girl into an old hag the boy's mouths dropped open and their faces drained of colour. No more questions came to mind and the irresistible urge to get as far away as possible from the terrifying vision set their feet to running. Two shiny bicycles were left abandoned on the pavement.
“Nice one! They probably won't go out for a week,” chuckled Wilhelmina, who had resorted to sprinkling some powder potion into her soggy shoes. A pink puff of smoke sent her into a coughing spree. “I never get that right,” she complained, as she tried to clear the air by waving her broom over her glowing-hot shoes.
“We'd better be going,” said Aislin, now back to her “normal” self. “Aye, we'll be in trouble if we don't show up for our postings. I'll meet you at the Hinton mansion at midnight. Unless you're having such a bonnie time you decide to stay.”
“Yeah, right,” grumbled Wilhelmina.
As Aislin headed up Old Guard Hill Wilhelmina silently wished that she could go with her. Oh, well, she thought, may as well get it over with. She checked her posting card. A big smear of something slimy, in the shape of a fingerprint, blocked out the street names. Troll spit. It took three wipes on the grass before she could make out the directions to Dingley's.
When she stood up, a man and woman were coming out of a pale yellow house, each carrying a little kid wearing a pink bunny costume. They waved to her as they got into their car. Bunnies! What in heck? Who ever said that bunnies were scary? What was wrong with these people? It's no wonder Halloween's getting a bad name.
Further down the street, three little girls dressed as fairies were sitting on the front steps of a bungalow, inspecting each others wings. Wilhelmina screwed up her face and stuck out her tongue at them. They all laughed at her and one of them called out, “Hey, I like your costume!”
Tempted to put an ugly-spell on them Wilhelmina reached into her fanny pack for her potion box but decided that it just wasn't worth it. They'd never know what hit them and she'd probably get reprimanded for underage hexing. Turning the corner she found herself in front of Dingley's Department Store. The front window was decked out as a graveyard, complete with about twenty bats strung in a row, plastic headstones lined up and a boney hand reaching up through green carpeting. Tacky! Someone has to teach them how to scare people and it may as well be me! With resolve she firmly grasped her broomstick and marched up the steps of the store.
The door seemed to be stuck. She pulled, then pushed, then pulled again, putting all of her strength into it. Leaning back against the wall she took off her glasses and wiped her brow on her sleeve. Suddenly the door swung open – by itself. “Huh!” she said. “Maybe my magic isn't weak, after all.” A scrap of pale blue fabric floated to the cement step. She picked it up, examined it and stuffed it into her fanny pack.
Not wasting any time she made her way into the store avoiding any contact with the humans who were rifling through racks of merchandise. They didn't pay any attention to her at all. The perfume section reeked! But she guessed that if you smelled like a human you'd do anything to mask it. Holding her nose she searched until she found Aisle three, the Halloween section. She spied a teenager on a stepladder trying to stretch a short row of ridiculously fat black cats across the hallway. Well, here goes, Wilhelmina thought.
“Darn, it's not long enough,” announced Annie, as she climbed down the ladder. Reaching the last step, she turned to find a red haired kid wearing black glasses and dressed in an ugly green sweater that had seen better days and a black skirt that was much to big for her. The most impressive part of her costume was a sleek black broom which she carried proudly under her arm. “Sorry,” Annie said, laying the banner in the box. “No trick-or-treating until 4:30.”
“I'm Wilhelmina Wingely,” said Wilhelmina, standing with her arms crossed.
“Good for you. And I'm running late so I'd appreciate it if you'd just come back in about half an hour,” said Annie, squeezing past her. A distinct shiver went up her arm when she brushed the little witch's shoulder. Weird, she thought, as she dug in the box for more string.
Wilhelmina muttered to herself as she picked up the discarded banner. “You'll find that it's long enough now,” she announced, surprised that she even remembered the very basic lengthening spell that she had learned in first-year.
Annie decided to humour the little girl. “I'm sure it is,” she said, as she took the banner and stretched it out. Her mouth dropped open. Where once there were ten cats, now there were thirty. No, forty. Or maybe fifty. It seemed the more she stretched it, the more cats appeared. And they weren't fat cats. They were snarling, frightening cats. “Oh. You found another banner. I didn't realize there were any more. Thanks. I think,”said Annie, looking into the box with disbelief. As she climbed back up the ladder she could feel Wilhelmina's eyes boring into her back. She hooked up one side of the banner, climbed down, and before she could climb up again, somehow the other end had positioned itself across the hallway. It had looped over the pumpkin display and around the cash register. Annie was dumbfounded. “How did you do that?”
“My card,” said Wilhelmina.
Annie took the badly beat up card.
Wilhelmina Wingely
Posting: Dingley Department Store
Halloween section Aisle 3
4:00 p.m. sharp.
“Oh! You're from the agency,” said Annie, happy to know that she wasn't losing it.
“Whatever you say,” said Wilhelmina, rolling her eyes.
“Well, there's a lot to do and time's running out,” said Annie, picking up a box full of batteries. “Hey, since you're such a scary little witch, why don't you look after
plugging in all of the witch lamps and putting these batteries in the laughing skulls. Do you think you can handle that? Meanwhile, I'll look after the ghost balloons.”
“Don't worry, I'll handle it,” Wilhelmina sneered.
Annie had the strange feeling that Wilhelmina was capable of just about anything. No time to worry about it, she thought, as she dragged out the helium-filled canister from the back room. She unscrewed the valve and fit the first of twenty-five giant white balloons onto the nozzle. The balloon stretched out to reveal a smiling ghost face on a bulging misshapen body. Tying it off, Annie bent to get another balloon. Wilhelmina was standing in the shadows watching her.
“You just keep popping up everywhere, don't you? You're starting to give me the creeps,” Annie laughed.
“Didn't you know that's what witches are supposed to do?” asked Wilhelmina, leaning on her broom.
“You're really taking this whole Halloween thing seriously, aren't you?” said Annie, tying off another balloon.
“Somebody has to,” said Wilhelmina, straight-faced. “If we left it up to you humans it would be a joke.”
“Can you please drop the act and just do the things I asked? The kids will be arriving soon.”
“Everything's done.”
Annie felt her last ounce of patience slip away. “You can't have finished that quickly. There were thirty skulls!”
“Why don't you go and check,” Wilhelmina challenged.
Bristling with annoyance, Annie stuck another balloon onto the nozzle then turned and marched over to the display. That little witch is more trouble than good. Why couldn't the agency have sent an adult?
Rounding the corner she was shocked at the scene before her. The witch lamps cast an eerie green glow on the pumpkin pyramid and the skulls creaked with a chorus of laughter, ranging from a low chuckle to a high-pitched scream. I don't remember them being so scary last year, Annie thought, backing away. Suddenly she was falling. Arms flailing, she tried to save herself. Just when she should have hit the floor, she bounced into something billowy soft. A ghost! Tears of relief escaped her eyes as she sank safely into the white cloud. That was close! Collecting herself she sat up and pushed the balloon away. There, right in front of her on the floor, was the reason she had tripped – the box full of batteries. But they should have all been used up in the skulls. How did she? There was no time to question Wilhelmina, for the voices of the trick-or-treaters were drifting up from the front door.
I'm not ready, she despaired, looking skyward. The spooky shapes of an army of ghosts floated mysteriously under the high ceiling. Annie couldn't even see the strings that should have been attached to them.
The lights of the department dimmed.
“This is awesome!” exclaimed a boy's voice.
“Wow! Better than last year.” said another. “Wait til I tell Jeff and Mark what they missed.”
In no time at all the department was overflowing with a couple of dozen kids all decked out in their costumes. Annie, going with the flow, took them on the tour, warning them to stay close and not touch the displays. A stray ghost swooped down at a chubby little boy who dawdled behind.
“Ahhhhhh!” he screamed, running up and wrapping his arms around Annie's legs.
“It's okay, little guy,” said Annie, kneeling down. It's not a real ghost.”
“It looks like a real ghost.”
“It's just a balloon,” she said. “But don't tell the others.”
“Oh, right,” he grinned. “Can we see the pumpkins?” The pumpkin pyramid was always a favourite. She had spent two hours stacking them up and connecting all the cords of lights.
“They're right this way,” she said, letting him hold her flashlight.
The little boy proudly led the group around the corner.
“Hissssssssss!”
Screams erupted from every kid as they watched in horror as dozens of wild-looking black cats hissed at them from the top of the pyramid.
“I want to go home. This is too scary,” cried a little girl who was dressed as a princess.
“Me too!” chimed in a chorus of voices. The kids pressed in around Annie, backing her against the witch lamps which at that very moment blinked on their green lights and cackled crazily. The kids screamed even louder. It was strange but the face on each lamp bore a strong resemblance to Wilhelmina. Annie squinted into the shadows to locate the little witch, only to realize that she had conveniently disappeared. She decided then and there to cut the tour short. “Who wants treats?”
~ ~
What a bunch of wimps! laughed Wilhelmina, as she returned her catspell potion to her fanny pack. That worked better than I had hoped. Those kids were all so brave, getting dressed up to go scare people and then they ended up getting scared themselves. I must say though, Aislin was right. It was fun! My job is done. Now all I have to do is slip out and join her at the cemetery.
Staying close to the walls, to avoid having to talk to anyone, she made her way toward the back of the store. She pushed open a door and found herself in a warehouse half-filled with stacks of boxes. A short corridor led to the loading dock where a cold wind crept in around the long plastic curtains covering a giant door.
The buckle of Wilhelmina's fanny pack chose just that moment to come undone, sending all of the vials holding her potions and powders cascading onto the floor. The screaming powder vial split open and mixed with the thunder potion filling the air with ear-splitting noise that brought Wilhelmina to her knees. Crawling around madly she tried to retrieve her magical aids. The air vibrated with another crash that sent the vials rolling between the boxes, even further out of her reach.
“Cease and be silent,” she called out above the uproar as she frantically searched the shadows. The screaming and booming came to an abrupt stop . . . only to be replaced by a loud rumbling and bright lights. A huge truck was backing up to the loading dock. Wilhelmina peered out as two men got out of the truck, opened its doors and started to unload the cargo. The strange thing was that one was dressed as Santa Claus, the other as an elf. She crawled in deeper among the stacks of boxes and took a moment to stuff all of the potions and powders back into her fanny pack. Her hand came in contact with a familiar object – Aislin's Y pod! She had forgotten to give it back.
