A Whole Lotta Witchin Goin On Read online




  A Whole Lotta Witchin' Goin' On

  by

  Constance Barker

  Copyright 2018 Constance Barker

  All rights reserved.

  Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Chapter One

  Change seemed to be the theme in Stillwater, which was ironic considering that the town's 150-year anniversary was just around the corner. For a town that had been around for so long, and was celebrated for its steadfast history, the sense of change was permeating the very air. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were all standing on the edge of a cliff about to fall off and we’d only find out if we had parachutes after the leap. There were a lot of reasons the town felt like it was changing. One reason was that it had, at least for my sister Fern and me. This change might have been the most significant thing that had happened to Fern and myself. Our dear friend Becky had been revealed to us as a witch. This was good news because we were witches as well.

  In our lifetimes we had only just assumed that there were more out there, but we had resigned ourselves to the idea that we wouldn’t meet any. Witches were a hunted species and because of this, we made ourselves scarce. It was impossible to tell who had magic, because everyone who did and who had half a brain didn’t exactly broadcast it. The legend was that eons ago, when witches were more abundant, there was a council of them. They made all the big decisions for witches as a whole and when we started to die out, they decided to cast a protection spell. It was one that hid us even from each other. It was a dark time and some witches in their desperation even turned on their friends. To protect us from each other as well as outside forces, they made it so that we could no longer detect each other. We couldn’t feel each other’s energies so the only person who knew if you were a witch or not was yourself and those you decided to tell.

  Of course, that was just legend. I didn’t really buy into all that hocus-pocus stuff around witchcraft. I would’ve thought that I’d heard about it if there was a witch council making grand decisions somewhere out there. Still, it was good to add another member to our tiny coven (so to speak). It was made even better by the fact that Becky was my best friend aside from my sister Fern. An invisible wall that had been put up between us was suddenly down and both of us could sigh with relief.

  Another exciting change, or rather the hope for change, was that Fern was running for Sheriff against her current boss. If she were to win, it wasn’t a secret that the town would benefit greatly. Not only was Fern good at her job as a detective, but the Sheriff was abysmal at his. He tended to not care about anything except for keeping his position which usually led to sloppy work and I’d assume some innocent men and women in prison. I was convinced that she'd been doing his job for him as long as she had been a detective. Fern was a bit more forgiving and was explaining to me for the fifth time that day as to why.

  “I know he has the capacity to be a good Sheriff, I mean there’s a reason why he was elected to the position in the first place,” Fern insisted. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her. I was pretty sure that this was just her way of comforting herself just in case she didn’t, in fact, win the election. A vague notion that he’d be better and wouldn’t make her life even more of a living hell if she lost.

  “He doesn’t do his job now. What makes you think he would in the future?” I asked shoving a handful of her campaign posters into the backseat of my car. Fern had wanted to drive hers, but I had been able to distract her long enough with campaign talk to shuffle her into my passenger seat. She hated riding in my car, something about it being a ‘death trap on wheels’ and ‘the worst car option you’d put down when playing MASH as a kid.’ I wholeheartedly disagreed with this and loved my clunker of a car. She was like a member of the family.

  “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re just distracting me to get me in your heap of metal,” Fern groaned while buckling up.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied. It wasn’t until then that I noticed a certain over-sized and nub-tailed feline hiding in the back seat. Moody must have tried to sneak in when I was putting the posters in. “Moody!” I shouted to get her attention.

  “You bellowed?” Moody responded while sheepishly extracting herself from below the pile of posters.

  “You can’t come today,” I said with raised eyebrows. Moody had been particularly clingy lately. I wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to be around us, or more likely she wanted to spend time with her new friend, Becky. It wasn’t exactly often that Moody met a human that she could openly converse with. It had probably been decades since she had spoken to anyone other than Fern and myself. I didn’t exactly blame her, but it wasn’t like we were allowed to take a cat with us everywhere we went.

  “Why not?” Moody growled at me. Her face was as scathing as her feline heart could muster.

  “Because, we are going to the diner. No pets allowed,” I said knowing that she hated being referred to as a pet.

  “Pets?” She asked predictably annoyed.

  “You heard me.” Sometimes I couldn’t stop myself from teasing her, even when I knew she wasn’t in the mood. She let out a guttural hiss before jumping out of the car and standing at the front door to be let back into the house. Fern sighed disappointingly at me and got out of the car to let her in. I watched as she scratched Moody’s ears, smoothing over my indiscretion. I couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed, more at myself than anything. I didn’t know why I picked fights with Moody, but it seemed better her than anyone else.

  “You ought to be nicer to her, one of these days she won’t forgive you ‘because you were just kidding,' Fern said with both air quotes and an unflattering impression of me.

  “I’ll try,” I said getting into the car. Fern chuckled at me as she got back into the passenger seat. “You know that Moody would have been difficult about staying home otherwise, it’s not like she is allowed in a restaurant.”

  “Fair enough,” Fern said with a sigh. She seemed intent on not getting between mine and Moody’s stupid little arguments, even though she liked to chastise me about it. “And to answer your question from earlier, I don’t know that he will do a better job if he wins, but I hope that maybe the competition will make the Sheriff do more.” Fern shrugged and let out another sigh. I was confident that my sister would become the Sheriff, but I knew that she was riddled with doubt.

  “Well, we won’t have to worry about it since there is no way you won’t win.” I smiled at Fern and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

  “Hands on the wheel, please!” Fern said even though my hand was already on its way back to the wheel. I rolled my eyes, but didn’t say anything. I could tell that Fern needed to stew in her worry at least on the way to Hazel’s diner. She was going to keep on stewing until the moment the election results came in, and we were only in the beginning of the race. The only thing that might make her stop worrying is if a new case came around but things seemed quiet in Stillwater for the time being.

  “We’re here and we didn’t even die,” I said as I pulled into the parking lot. Fern jumped a little as if I had pulled her from a trance by talking.

  “I guess I have something to be grateful for then,” Fern said with a smile. I could still see and hear her concern even though she was putting on a brave face.
/>   “Everyone here supports you,” I reminded her.

  “I know,” She responded. “I’m aware.” I struggled to get the campaign posters out of the back of the car...they were almost as large as the backseat itself. I personally thought it was a bit excessive, but Amber had elected herself the unofficial campaign manager for Fern’s race. Amber was not my favorite person, but I couldn’t deny that she wasn’t the worst choice for the job.

  “There’s our next Sheriff!” Amber sang-song at us as we walked into Hazel’s diner. Fern gave me a knowing smile as I felt my entire body stiffen at the sound of Amber’s voice. I shook it off. “And the posters are ready!” She added in what I would consider to be an overly excited voice. I pushed past her into the diner, clumsily carrying the posters that were half my height into the diner. I felt a wave of calm as soon as I went inside. I didn’t know if it was the familiar faces of my closest friends or the comfort of the space itself.

  Chapter Two

  “We’ve all been put to work,” Fang grumbled as soon as Fern and Amber entered the diner behind me. The sight in front of me was almost laughable. Fang, his son Jimmy Jack, and Becky were all huddled around a table that was piled as high with food as it was with campaign buttons. The very idea that Fang and Jimmy Jack would be helping out a Sheriff campaign was beyond hilarious. They were notorious moonshiners in town, and did business with I would bet over half the population of Stillwater. They were recluses in their own right, but it was heartwarming to see that they were willing to help Fern and her campaign. The current Sheriff turned a blind eye to their activities and I guessed that Fern would as well. It was a town quirk, and there were more than enough things to worry about in our little town.

  “Put me to work as well then,” I said sitting down at the table. Becky smiled at me with a wide grin. She had been all smiles lately and the more egotistical side of me wanted to take all the credit. The more realistic side of me knew that her reasons for being happy lately were many, and the shy smiles she continued to share with Jimmy Jack were certainly a big part of it. I wondered if Fang and Jimmy Jack’s involvement was less about my sister and more about impressing Becky. Jimmy Jack was currently grinning to himself while gluing the buttons on the table. Fang had all but given up and was just eating his food now.

  “Help me with the buttons,” Becky said pushing a handful of them across the table to me. “They’re easy,” She added.

  “Are you implying that I shouldn’t be working on anything too complex?” I asked with raised eyebrows. Becky immediately reddened as I knew she would. She was a people pleaser at heart and even the possibility that she actually hurt my feelings was unbearable to her. I winked to let her know that I was only teasing. Becky was a close friend, but she hadn’t exactly adjusted to my sense of humor yet.

  “Well, I know I shouldn’t,” Fang said in his signature growl-like voice. He proceeded to practically toss the buttons away from him and in my direction as if they were a bug or something repulsive to him. I felt vindicated in my theory that Fang had been forcibly conscripted by Jimmy Jack to help in Fern’s campaign. The only thing that made Fang a part of the town was the fact that he frequented Hazel's Diner just like the rest of us. As if on queue Hazel popped up at the table.

  “It’s good to see you girls,” Hazel said smiling at both Fern and me. Fern had been shuffled to a separate table by Amber who was cooking up some new campaign strategy and who seemed significantly unimpressed by the posters.

  “It’s good to see you too,” I replied. For some reason I felt the overwhelming need to reach my hand out to hers, so I did. She smiled gratefully and gave my hand a soft pat in return. Fang had returned to his work on the buttons almost simultaneously with Hazel’s appearance at our table. The tips of his ears were colored a deep red and I imagined felt quite hot. The pair had been dancing around feelings for one another for as long as I could remember. Their tepid flirtation was almost as indicative of being in Stillwater as the ‘Welcome to Stillwater’ sign was.

  “The usual for both of you?” Hazel asked. Though I wanted my usual I looked at the already crowded table and couldn’t imagine trying to fit more food on it.

  “Just a coffee for me today,” I said shaking my head no. Fern had miraculously managed to hear Hazel’s question over Amber’s incessant chatter and nodded enthusiastically to the mention of food. Hazel swept away into the kitchen. Though the diner wasn’t technically hers, she was its heart and soul. In many ways, the diner itself was the very heart of the town. She made most of the food and tended to the tables herself, while the actual owner was no where to be seen. As soon as I smelled the food I regretted my decision for only coffee.

  “I best be goin’,” Fang said gruffly. He tossed his napkin on the table. “Deliveries don’t make themselves, you know.”

  “You good to go on your own today?” Jimmy Jack asked clearly hopeful and not wanting to leave. In lieu of an answer he nodded and picked up his grimy bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He was getting on in age and was easily beyond retirement years already, but showed few signs of slowing down.

  “Tell Hazel I said bye,” He mumbled with a blush before leaving the diner. Jimmy Jack gave him a nod as a goodbye and assurance that he would tell Hazel.

  “Have you found anything out about your family?” Jimmy Jack casually asked Becky. I had the feeling that they had only shared awkward small talk up until that point. The presence of more people calming their nerves. I was surprised that he knew anything about Becky’s recent quest into her family tree, the two must talk more than I suspected. After the death of the witch hunter that had been hunting Becky for the better part of the last few years she had once again taken up her search for her birth family. She had been raised in an orphanage until she was eighteen, and that was when she started her first search. It was slow with a lot of dead ends, and it was interrupted by Gareth’s vendetta against her. With him gone, she was once again free to resume her search.

  “No good leads,” She said with a shrug. Becky attempted to sound nonchalant as though it didn’t matter, but even Jimmy Jack picked up on her actual tone. He gave me a worried look but I couldn’t tell if it was worry for her or panic about the situation he had gotten himself in by opening the can of worms in the first place.

  “Nothing?” I asked hopeful that maybe there was at the very least a glimmer.

  “Well, I tried tracking down some older connections, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of them yet. I’m honestly not sure if I will be able to get a hold of them again,” Becky said sounding distressed. She had to put her life on hold while she was on the run from Gareth, the witch hunter who had come to town only to accidentally kill himself with a magical weapon. The whole reason she had moved to Stillwater was to get away from him. Luckily for us, she liked it here enough to stay even without the threat of him hanging over her head.

  “I’m sure you’ll hear something soon,” I said, though I was unconvinced by my own words. Becky shrugged again, focusing intently on gluing the buttons so that she didn’t have to think about her family anymore.

  “I’m sorry,” Jimmy Jack said his ears had turned an even brighter shade of red than his father's.

  “Oh no, don’t be,” Becky assured him. She turned to him and put tentative hand on his shoulder before removing it immediately. I wasn’t even sure that her hand made contact or just hovered above his shoulder. “I appreciate that you care enough to ask.” Both had turned a deep shade of red at this point. I didn’t know if I should be jealous or relieved that I had nothing like that in my life at this point.

  I did feel worried for Becky though. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I felt a dread in my gut for her. I thought that she might become consumed by her search for her family. I tried to shake the feeling, but I couldn’t quite be completely rid of it. I chalked it up to a strange form of jealousy, as logically I wanted her to find her family, but emotionally I felt like she already had in me and Fern even though I knew it was se
lfish and careless to think that way.

  Hazel bustled out of the kitchen plates in hand. I noticed gratefully that she had in the end made me food. Hazel always seemed to know when I needed it.“…and then we need to make sure your social media presence is in full force.” I overheard Amber saying to Fern. I couldn’t imagine that social media would matter in a town where half the population still didn't own smartphones. I made a face at Fern behind Amber’s back making her laugh. Amber whipped her head around and glared at me. “Sorry, some people actually care about getting your sister elected and getting that sad excuse for a man out. If you recall I was almost falsely accused of murder only a couple months ago!”

  “You think I don’t care if my sister succeeds or not?” I began to challenge her. Fern cautioned me with a shake of her head so I backed off. This was about her, not me. “Well, I do,” I finished wanting to say a lot more but biting my tongue.

  “Girls,” Hazel said as Amber opened her mouth to retort. She sounded like a mother at her wits end. Both Amber and I backed off at that point, not wanting to upset Hazel who seemed uncharacteristically on edge for some reason. As she set my food down I could tell why I felt concerned for her, why I had felt the need to reach out to her earlier. Hazel seemed distant, her manner was still pleasant and present, but I could see how far away she was in her eyes. It was a similar look to what Becky had earlier when she was worrying about finding her parents.

  “Are you alright?” I asked her. For a moment Hazel looked at me as though she was confused by the question. Something in her eyes told me she was as far from okay as she could be. They were too far away, too disconnected.

  “I’m fine,” Hazel snapped harshly. Without another word she returned to the kitchen even though there was clearly a table waiting impatiently for their check.

  “What was that about?” Amber asked with wide eyes. She looked practically gleeful after stumbling across this very new and very juicy piece of gossip.

 

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