Witcha'be Read online

  “I’m going to take the door off the hinges if you don’t answer,” Dad threatened.

  Boo barked and clawed at the door. Dad told him to get away.

  Suddenly, I was back in the bathtub. My teeth chattered. I curled in the freezing water, shaking uncontrollably. I just needed to sleep then I would be okay.

  “I’m taking it off.” Tools clattered outside the bathroom. I jolted as a hammer pounded. The thought of my father seeing me naked yielded enough force to drive me stumbling from the tub.

  “I’m alright,” I slurred.

  More pounding. They hadn’t heard me.

  “Joel, break it down!”

  “I’m okay! Let me get dressed.”

  The hammering stopped.

  “Oh, thank goodness. Unlock the door.” Mom’s voice broke.

  I staggered to the light switch, hesitated at what might be looming.

  “Now!” Mom would have a heart attack at this rate.

  I turned on the light. No grasshoppers. I pulled a fresh towel from under the vanity, dried my goose-pimpled skin, and pulled on the top and yoga pants.

  “I’m sorry. I dozed off in the tub for a few minutes.”

  Mom grabbed me as I opened the door, rubbing her hands over my frigid arms. “You have hypothermia! Sleeping in the bathtub—do you realize you could have died? If Boo hadn’t started barking, I hate to think what would’ve happened. Maybe I should take you to the emergency room. How do you feel? How long were y—”

  “Stop.” Dad gently put his arm around Mom’s waist and moved her back into the hallway. “She is going to be fine.” He stepped in and took my hand, examining my fingertips. “She’s standing, her fingers and toes aren’t blue, and her lips are nice and pink. A glass of warm milk, followed by a good night’s rest, and she’ll be brand new in the morning.” Dad released Mom and gathered his tools.

  She looked at me.

  “He’s right. Warm milk and bed sounds wonderful.” I managed a weak smile.

  Dad rose with his toolbox, placed a hand on the small of Mom’s back, and led her toward the stairs.

  “Don’t be too long, Sleeping Beauty,” he called.

  “Be right down. Sorry I scared you.” I scooped my clothes from the floor and tossed them in the hamper.

  “Ouch!” I plucked the tack from my foot and wiped away a dot of blood.

  The sheet dipped, exposing one green eye.

  Hic!

  CHAPTER SIX

  The alarm in my head overpowered the buzzing clock. How would I make it through the week, let alone the rest of my life? I slapped at the snooze button, knocking my phone and dream journal to the floor.

  The journal was blank. I hadn’t written a single line about the grasshopper nightmare. It seemed too soon, like the tasteless rehashing of a traumatic event.

  My phone vibrated, alerting me I had a text message.

  Don’t walk over today, we are picking u up. XOXO.

  Guilt kicked my conscience. I wasn’t proud of brushing Lenni off yesterday after school, but hated being trapped in this weird friendship triangle. It didn’t make sense for Bianca to consider me a threat. Lenni was obviously crazy about her.

  I stared at the blank journal page, knowing I had to write something. GRASSHOPPERS ARE GROSS, I wrote in bold, capital letters across the first line. I do not get the hiccups when I’m dreaming, I wrote on the last.

  I trudged downstairs to find Pam and Lenni in the driveway.

  “Bye, Mom!”

  “Bye, honey.” Mom shuffled down the hall, trying not to slosh coffee from her Wizard of Oz mug. “Have a good day.” She waved to Mrs. Flemming through the screen door.

  “Love you.” I gave her a peck, leaving lip gloss on her cheek.

  “I love you too, Molly Lou.”

  I jogged to the car, sticking my tongue out at porch witch on the way by.

  The radio blared inside the vehicle. Lenni flailed in the backseat. I slid in next to her. “You know it, don’t blow it, just throw it!” She threw a rock-fist as Dizzy screamed her latest release.

  “Come on, Molly!” Lenni snarled her small nose, her face taking on a cute Easter-Bunnyish appearance, contradicting the heavy-metal, head-banger look she aimed for with the expression.

  I joined in, messing up my freshly-blow-dried hair.

  “Awww, man. Over already?” Lenni huffed.

  The DJ’s voice blasted through the speakers. “Folks, you heard it here first—Throw It, debuting at number one from her fifth album, Dizzy’s Epidemic. I have a couple of tickets to give away, if you can go back in time and tell me the title of Dizzy’s third album. Dial 555-R-O-C-K. Be the sixth caller and win two front-row seats in the VIP section of Dizzy’s show.”

  “I know it!” I pulled out my phone and dialed frantically, hands shaking.

  “Yay! You can do it.” Lenni cheered me on, crossing her fingers as I pressed send.

  “It’s ringing,” I gasped, heart pounding. Please, don’t get the hiccups.

  “This is 99.9 ROCK FM, I’m Jack Saxton, and you are the sixth caller!” His words echoed through the car stereo. Mrs. Flemming and Lenni screamed in unison.

  “I can’t believe it,” I whispered.

  “Hello, are you there, caller?”

  “Speak up.” Lenni nudged me.

  “Oh. Yes, I’m here!” I shouted.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Molly!” I shrieked.

  “Ouch! Watch the sound barrier, Molly.” He chuckled.

  I lowered my voice. “Sorry.”

  “Okay, Molly, here we go. Tell me the name of Dizzy’s third album and win two front-row tickets to Dizzy’s show this Friday night. Does that sound amazing?”

  “Yes!” I could manage only one word. My mind turned to silly putty. I focused all of my energy into reciting the name of Dizzy’s third album.

  “Fantastic. Are you ready?”

  I glanced at Mrs. Flemming and Lenni, numbly aware we were in front of the school. They nodded. Lenni wiggled close and grasped my hand tightly.

  “Molly, for two VIP tickets, what was the name of Dizzy’s third album?”

  “Dizzy’s—” I choked, suddenly realizing the name rolling in my head wasn’t Dizzy’s third album, but her fourth, Dizzy’s Outbreak.

  “Are you there? Clock’s ticking.” The DJ broadcasted the sound of a ticking time bomb.

  “They all start with the word, Disease, right?” Mrs. Flemming asked, her powdered face strained as she tapped her temples.

  “Think, Molly, think. Remember your posters,” Lenni whispered.

  My collection of Dizzy posters flashed to mind.

  One: Dizzy’s Prevention.

  Two: Dizzy’s Control.

  Three: Dizzy’s…Mutation.

  “Dizzy’s Mutation!” I screamed into the phone.

  “Yes! You got it! Dizzy’s Mutation is the correct answer. Congratulations, Molly. You’re the winner!” Jack Saxton celebrated my win with kazoos, whistles, and a million other crazy sound effects.

  The call went off the air then transferred to a receptionist who took my information. She said the tickets would be waiting for me at the box office on the night of the concert. I could show my school ID to pick them up.

  Pam, Lenni, and I squealed and high fived. Lenni kissed her mom goodbye before we slid from the car and ran across the empty campus. Winning the tickets was more than worth the dirty looks and tardy slips we received from Mrs. Butler, the office secretary.

  “Bye, Lenni. See you at lunch, maybe sooner.” I hugged her before we separated.

  “Molly? Are you taking me with you—to the show?” she called, halfway down the vacant hall.

  “Of course. Who else would I take, besides my best friend?” I grinned and threw a rock-fist.

  “Yay!” She smiled and skipped away.

  I shuffled to the creative writing room and tapped on the door. Mrs. Piper looked radiant in a yellow, ankle-length dress, a matching scarf twisted around he
r mahogany curls.

  “Come in. Good, I see you’ve brought your journal.”

  “Not much written inside, though.”

  “You’re not alone.”

  I handed her my tardy slip and walked to my desk, happy to be in my favorite classroom. Even happier about my win.

  “You are certainly joyful this morning,” she said.

  “I’d like to tell you why, if that’s okay,” I said, dying to share my incredible news.

  “If it’s good enough to make you smile that widely, please do.”

  The class looked up from their warm-up assignments.

  “I won two VIP tickets to Dizzy’s show in Oklahoma City this Friday night.”

  “Lucky,” Kit spewed through a jealous-looking grin. “Can I come?”

  “Sorry. I’m taking Lenni.”

  “That sucks.” He hunched in his chair.

  “Watch your language, Kit,” Mrs. Piper warned.

  “Dizzy is such a joke.” Jesse puffed out his cheeks as if he was going to vomit, but even he couldn’t bring me down today.

  “Congratulations. I hope you have a fabulous time. We’ll need a play-by-play after the show,” Mrs. Piper said.

  She laid a blank warm-up on my desk—the short pre-assignment she used to get our creative juices flowing. I frowned at the instructions, wondering how to describe the color green in three ways without saying the actual word. I barely finished, still scribbling down the word avocado when Mrs. Piper asked us to pass our papers forward.

  “Okay, class, the moment you’ve been waiting for. Please open your dream journals.” The room grew loud with chatter about who dreamed what the night before.

  I stared at the first page. My breath quickened and hands trembled. The nightmare rushed back in vivid detail, right down to the twitching antennae on Bianca’s drawing.

  “Who would like to share a little bit about their dream?”

  A few hands shot into the air. Mrs. Piper nodded at Kit. “While Kit is recounting, take notes on setting and do a few character sketches. Try to organize his dream into three elements of a story—setup, confrontation, and resolution. Go ahead, Kit.”

  He smiled crookedly. “Okay. It went like this. Jake Hughes and me were at the store buying some games for our systems. We paid the guy in candy, which got him all excited. We walked toward the front of the store, but weren’t in the store anymore. All of a sudden, we were lost in some kind of maze—like on that old movie, The Shining—only the maze wasn’t bushes, it was razor blades.” Kit’s smile disappeared and his forehead creased. “So then, Jake and me got separated and couldn’t see each other. I was scared because of the razors. I wanted to stop, but a creature was chasing me. A zombie or something.”

  A giggle in the room broke his concentration. His head snapped up and he gawked around, the grin returning to his face. “And I hunted the thing down and killed it. Poked its eyes in with my thumbs and threw it into the razor wire!” Kit jumped up from his desk and mimicked a zombie fight scene. Laughter exploded.

  Mrs. Piper gazed sternly, arms crossed. “Pass me your journal, please. I need to verify your details.” She held out her hand.

  “Oh, I, uh, didn’t write everything down.” Kit returned to his seat and covered a fake cough. “I’ll stick to what I wrote, Mrs. Piper. Sorry.” He began reading again. “Anyway, this zombie-thing chased me and I couldn’t run. It was going to catch me for sure. I tried to scream but nothing came out. Then, I saw…”

  “What? What did you see?” Amy asked, her normally soft voice shrill with curiosity.

  “I saw, um, part of Jake’s shirt, all ripped and bloody, hanging on the razors.”

  Gasps echoed.

  “Then I woke up.” Kit closed his journal and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Very intense dream, Kit. Thank you for sharing. May I ask what you did before bed last night and what you ate for dinner?”

  He turned his gaze to the ceiling. “I skipped dinner because my mom made fish. I ate a family-sized bag of candy and played Zombification until I passed out on the floor. The controller buttons were imprinted on my skin when I woke up this morning. Guess I laid on it all night.” Kit lifted his shirt and examined his belly. “Gone now.”

  “So you were under the influence of sugar and Zombification. I’m less worried than I was a few moments ago.” Mrs. Piper chuckled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  I analyzed the reasons behind my own nightmare—a blend of Bianca’s drawing, an insecticide commercial, and the ham and cheese with pickles I’d gobbled for dinner.

  “Raise your hand if you can tell me the setting of Kit’s dream?”

  Mrs. Piper nodded in my direction.

  “The store?”

  “Yes, that’s right. The dream began in the store. Therefore, the initial setting is a store, even though the scenery changed later. Now, who can describe the characters?”

  “It was Kit and that gigantic dork he hangs around with, Jake,” Jesse blurted without raising his hand.

  “That was rude and uncalled for,” Mrs. Piper snapped.

  Jesse smirked.

  “As Jesse impolitely established, the characters were Kit and Jake. Later, we’ll change the names of characters along with their physical attributes, so they no longer resemble people we know. Jot down a few of Kit’s and Jake’s traits. Remember, be respectful.”

  Kit blushed and lowered his pencil. I used his flushed cheeks as part of my character description. I wrote that he loved video games and jokes—leaving out the fact that no one thought he was funny. For Jake, I described his broad shoulders, large hands, and unhurried walk.

  Jesse snorted and cleared his throat as he wrote, covering a stupid half-smile with his hand while his shoulders shook. Mrs. Piper stood by his desk.

  “Mrs. Piper?” Mrs. Butler’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Please release Jesse Parker. Coach Jeffrey’s bus is waiting for the football players.”

  Jesse stood and tugged at his jersey, offering a cocky grin to the rest of the class.

  “Take your journal home and finish the character sketches. Also, remember to record your dreams tonight. Good luck at the game.”

  “Luck? Yeah, right. Benton Bobcats are the ones that need luck, not us. It’s gonna be a bloodbath. Whoo!”

  The class erupted with desk-slaps and foot-stomps. Jesse gathered his books and offered Kit a high five on the way out, pulling back at the last second. Kit slowly lowered his un-slapped hand.

  “Okay, class, settle down. We have time for one more dream. Volunteers?” She scanned the classroom.

  My foot bounced as I debated raising my hand. Talking about my nightmare might make it less scary. The whole thing actually sounded kind of funny now. When Grasshoppers Attack.

  My gaze shot around the room. Jesse’s empty desk eased the tension a bit. With a shaky breath, I raised my hand.

  “Molly.” Mrs. Piper walked toward me.

  My heartbeat thumped in my ears. “I didn’t really write it down, so I’ll have to tell it from memory.” My mouth went dry. I swallowed air.

  “You’ve got plenty of time.” She glanced at the wall clock above the doorway. “Class, take notes.”

  “Hey! Why did I have to read mine?” Kit interrupted.

  Mrs. Piper shot him a look.

  “I know, I know.” He sighed. “Because I embellish.”

  She nodded. “Molly, you may begin.”

  I took a deep breath and let the words roll out. “Yesterday evening I was really excited about starting the dream journal project. I couldn’t wait for bed so I could have a dream and write it down. Seemed like it would be so much fun to wake in the middle of the night and journal in the dark.” I glanced around at the other students. They appeared to be listening. “I decided to take a long bath, to relax. Before I left my room, an insecticide commercial came on showing all these disgusting grasshoppers dying.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ve seen that one. They’re all dragging their legs and squirm
ing. Nasty!” Kit stood and limped around his desk, trailing one leg.

  “Sit down.” Mrs. Piper raised her hand like a stop sign. “Continue, Molly.”

  “In the bathtub, I dried my face and felt a thorn in the towel. It twitched when I pulled it.” I swallowed. “Grasshoppers squirmed out of the towel and flew everywhere, plopping into the water, landing all over me. I jumped out and fell, crushing them. I tried to get up, but couldn’t. I kept slipping on the tile. A monstrous grasshopper appeared on the wall, looked at me, and got ready to jump. I was paralyzed. Then…it jumped.”

  I swiped my forehead with the back of my hand and pictured sweat forming dark crescents in the armpits of my peach top. A fierce hiccup tore from my throat. People struggled to hide their smiles as tears blurred my vision. Amy patted my back.

  “So?” Kit frowned. “Then what happened?”

  “I woke up. In the bathtub. My parents were beating on the door, and I was freezing.”

  Hic!

  “Ha! That’s great.” Kit smacked his desktop.

  The bell sounded, rescuing me from further humiliation.

  “Class, finish your character sketches at home, please. You’re dismissed.” Mrs. Piper lowered her voice. “Molly, can you stay after class for a few moments? This is my planning period, and I would like to visit with you.” She placed her hands on my trembling ones.

  “I don’t think I can.” Hic! “I have Mr. Williams for science this period.”

  “I’ll write you a note. Just stay with me a few moments, Molly. Please.” She gently squeezed my hands.

  My shoulders and chest relaxed a little.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mrs. Piper closed the door, walked to her desk and picked up a box of tissues. She scooted a chair close to mine.

  “Can you tell me what’s bothering you?” Her voice soothed and evoked emotion at the same time. Tears trickled down my cheeks. “This is about more than the grasshopper nightmare, isn’t it?” She handed me a tissue and slid an arm around my shoulders.

  “I don’t know where to start.” My mouth tugged down and I tried not to sob.

  “Share a little about yourself. You recently moved to Redbend, right before school started.” She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling her arm from around me.