Saturday, December 16, 2006

She Gave Me Some Cookies...

The house I lived in the longest (5 years) when I was a kid was on a small lake with about 30 other houses. Our road was a brick one & there were only a few roads that weaved their way around the lake...kinda forming its' own little community. As a kid, I grew to know every ripple & dimple of that road intimately. I knew it on foot, on board, on big wheels & bikes. I knew the houses, the landscaping, the world of docks & drain pipes that sat around that lake almost as well as I knew that road. And I knew some of the people even better.

Some of the people I would never know & some, I still know.
Five of the ten houses that sat on my little block contained girls my age. We formed gangs. We would do things, make dares, bets, challenges & sometimes war. We were all constantly trying to get on top, and when on top...we strived to stay there. We tested our strength, our fears, our determination & sometimes pushed it all to the limit.

But not always...sometimes we just hyped things up.

There was a house on the twist of road at the end of my block where it was rumored a witch lived. Her house was big & sat up on the top of The Big Hill looking down across & over the lake. There was a solid wall with vines growing over it all around her property. Likewise, the ivy spread like veins across the skin of her house. There was a black spiked wrought iron fence than ran atop of her ivy covered wall & the were matching bars over hew windows. I guess it was pretty creepy. We had a hard time accessing her land & we never saw her.

One day, we discovered that we could climb the concrete wall at its highest point on the outside & land at a much higher level inside her yard in a flurry of flowering shrubs. We sleeked through her yard, hiding, looking, pinching off wild flowers of the likes we'd never seen before until we heard her shrill hollering. Then the soles of our feet smacked our backsides as we ran to the same section of the wall we had dropped from just minutes before.
Standing atop that concrete wall, with heels tucked in between those wrought iron spikes... we realized we had to jump down from this, the highest section of the outside wall. I looked down, the sidewalk was all cracked up, like peanut brittle that had been smacked with a hammer. I imagined it was from all the kids who had crashed to the witch's delight over the years, as they attempted this frightening leap. I couldn't fight the hype anymore, I was scared & so I jumped.

The moment my feet hit the ground, my fear turned to anxious amusement.

'I was in the witches yard'
'I picked the witches poisonous flowers'
'I was chased by the witch'
'I had to jump from the witches wall'

The first time I ever saw her was a few weeks later... I saw her driveway with the gate open & there was car leaving. I looked & thought I could see her through a window on the backside of her house. I saw a cat in her yard & lost sight of the witch. I walked up the driveway towards the cat & scrunched down, as if being closer to the ground would lure the cat towards me& keep the witch at bay. Then she was there...right there, not making a sound but with one arm reaching out towards me.

She wore all black with a white apron & she sat in an old Alfred Hitchcock style wheel chair. He hair was dark & it was in a bun. I didn't even have time to stand or gasp before I got a whiff of the poison she was throwing my way... fresh baked chocolate chip cookies.

A plate full of them sat in her lap & her outreached hand held one towards me.

I ate it....mmmm, hmmmmm....so damn good.

I told her that everyone thought she was a witch & I told her why.

We became friends & soon we would meet in her driveway for cookie swaps.
I'd show up with two Oreo's I'd earned by taking Ms. Vicki's trash out & trade them for one home baked cookie from the witch.

Most of my friends wouldn't come around us...they told me that I was being poisoned slowly.

Then the witch died.

And she was gone & so were her cookies.

Oreo's alone were no longer enough motivation to take Ms. Vicki's trash out.

Years passed...

All grown up...years later, I lay on my back with excrutiating lower back pain. I close my eyes & although I was only hoping to ease my back-ache by laying down, I found myself slipping into a dream-like state. Realizing that I was falling asleep I popped my eyes open & the witch was there. She said 'Child, you go'own 'n clotz dem eyes. Izza awright now Child.'

I closed my eyes & could feel her breath hovering over me and then her hand , palm down began to root itself onto my abdomen. Then all fell still & I could feel the warmth from her hand radiating through my blouse, through my skin, through my stomache & down into my back where her healing heat seemed to spread out like butter in a hot iron skillet. The pain in my back seemed to melt away. She lifted her hand & I snapped my eyes wide open.

She wasn't there.
It must have all been a dream.
The Guess Who was playing on the radio & my back was feeling fine.
I got up & made some chocolate chip cookies.

22 comments:

Baron Ectar said...

Wow - I always come here and read your blog and want it to go on and on - your writing takes me there - I can feel the terror of knowing the wich was reaching toward me for the first time - and then smell the cookies that she made - then the disappointment that she is not around anymore ...

I think we all need witches in our lives - hmmmmm I need to go on a witch hunt ...

Anonymous said...

We weren't lucky enough to have a witch in our neighborhood, just some old man who'd tell us to "get the hell" off his "goddamned" lawn.

:)

Enemy of the Republic said...

I love to bake cookies and fudge, plus I am often refered to as a witch, not only for my delightful personality but my hair. Should I be worried?

vicci said...

I love this story!!! I love that "witch" also!! That sweet old woman giving you some chocolate chip cookies!!! Speaking of something sweet...I got some wonderful tea in the mail the other day from a real sweetheart!!! Love ya...Paiger!

Anonymous said...

Wow a witch with home made cookies?Our witch in the neighborhood never seemed to do that:)all she did was raise her voice and wave that stick at us in such a menacing way that we used to run right back into our homes!But we troubled her a lot,we used to drop dead rats over her garden and wait for her to pick them up and take it to her den and turn them into something wild and exotic,ofcourse all she did was pour cold water on our imaginations by throwing them right back at us sometimes.See we never gave her a chance to show her good side:)we were devil's children!This post certainly brought back memories!Loved it:)

skinnylittleblonde said...

LOL, Baron ~ I have read your blog & your comments & know that you are surrounded by beautiful, wonderful & powerful witches so your hunt may be as easy as opening your eyes ;)

Matt~ Every childhood neighborhood should have a witch, a cat lady & a candy house. It sounds like you a satnic spawn in your neighborhood. LOL.

Enemy~ Nah...don't be worried...be proud! All my childhood witches turned out to be angels & I know you're an angel too!

Vicci~ I thought I needed a break from all the mushiness of recent so I had to pull up a recollection...lol, glad you enjoyed & I hope you enjoy your tea. I cannot wait for Kimbies to get her package & I will email you before hitting the road.

Fuzzy~ Wow...chunking dead rats?! You had some bawls girl! Maybe one day we will be witches of our own hood & can repent for our childhood ways. LOL.

spadoman said...

Great story. No witches in our neighborhood, all Italian gypsys with mustaches and armpit hair.

We did have Bob. Bob's Texaco was on the corner, right next to Arlene's. (Arlene's was the bread, eggs, milk and cigarette store). Bob would always have a package of cookies and some banannas or apples on the table in the little break room in back. Us kids, usually on a foray to pick up empty pop bottles, (5 bottles=10 cents and another full bottle if you drank it at Arlene's), would be invited into the back room and allowed to reach in and grab some cookies or have a bananna. We didn't care about the oil and grease on Bob's hands and under his nails.

Thanks for the story.

Carina said...

That is a wonderful story....wish I had a "witch" memory like that!

Anonymous said...

Very fine post!

You have a sweet writing voice.

I have a couple of tales like this one and will have to post sone someday...

Anonymous said...

Yea! I got into your blog! I will read the post later. I will link to you BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!

skinnylittleblonde said...

Spado~ Bob sounds like my kinda man, oil soaked nails & all!

Carina~ Perhaps you will make a witch memory like that for someone else one day. I know when I get older, I'd be proud to do so! LOL, but true!

Dirk~ TY! You have a sweet little costume on! Can't wait to read your posts! I liked your latest one & found myself lost in Baghdad for about an hour. TY!

BBE~ I think one day I will have to convert to Beta... I'm scared, but my fears are subsiding.

Orhan Kahn said...

As always, simply beautiful.

Anonymous said...

Good story. The line, "...heels tucked in between those wrought iron spikes..." brought a powerful image to my mind. I could almost feel the metal squeezing in on either side of my shoes.

We had a witch, too. My development consisted of two forked roads. She lived at the end of the "other street," at the very bottom of a hill where the last of the houses met the edges of a large, swampy forest. Because of this, she had an inordinate number of toads in her yard. Of course, the rumor was that they were actually kids from her road who tried to cut through her yard to get to ours and were transformed by her as punishment for trespassing. I never had the nerve to try and disprove the theory.

Mel said...

What a good witch she was!

(Oreo's must take you back to that place in time.)

No witch in my growing up years...but boy were there angels! I just didn't 'know' they were angels until much, much later.

Anonymous said...

Skinny,I guess you will be off tomorrow for your much awaited trip.When are you back?
Have a great time with our family and Merry Christmas!

Anonymous said...

That was "your family"!I'm the typo queen as you know!

skinnylittleblonde said...

Orhan~ Thank you for your kind words of praise.

Avery ~ LOL, I can totally understand how the logical conclusion of any child would be, must be, that she was a witch...with all those frogs...nothing else would make sense!

Mel~ LOL, I think she was really an angel too & maybe she still is. Her spirit definitely touched me in more ways than one.

Fuzzy ~ Sister Typo Queen... you and your family would be welcomed as family in our home anytime, but especially at the holidays! LOL, really my family is good at NOT drawing boundaries with blood-lines. Not only is 1/2 my family adopted, but the other half aren't related at all. LOL, in that for the holidays friends, neighbors & co-workers seem to gather with us. This year we should have about 25-30 people together.
Yes, I leave in the AM & won't be back until the 26th, when I have to report back to work.
Merry Christmas To You!

Anonymous said...

I always wished that I had a witch to be scared of, but no....everything was mundane and boring for me. I had to go cow-tipping for fun. I have never gone cow-tipping, but it actually sounds like fun...if it weren't so mean that is.

singleton said...

Her name was Mimi, baby sister...And when the good witch passed away, she left a mountain in her will...to two little angels, but no one ever knew their names....
but we did....
you and little tow headed Christina....no need to stand up and claim the prize...
the magic had already been cast.
The gift had already been given.
Love grows.

Anne said...

What a beautiful story. REAL witches are good. :)

Anonymous said...

I remember a few witch houses in my younger years. One of them had a pentagram type stained-glass window above the front door. That pretty much cinched the deal for designation as a witch house. It also helped if they had tall steeply sloped roofs. I don’t know why, just creepy looking I guess. I never had the chance to meet any of the witches or warlocks that lived in those houses though.

I, like the view said...

hmmmmmm

I'm liking this idea lots

think I'll stop combing/washing my hair and find me some witch rags to wear - I could find myself a new vocation in life!!