you a witch!”
Zoey looked down at her hand where the bite was located. It still looked red and infected.
“There was something funny about that librarian,” Zoey said suddenly.
“She smelled funny—musty or something.” She looked at her aunt, who looked surprised.
“Anyway,” Zoey went on, “I feel so tired. I’d love to go home and lie down. Would you start the search for witches?
Aunt Elise? I just need a little rest.”
“Sure thing, I’m going to start by looking through those books, you got. I’ll see if smelling funny means anything! Wouldn’t that be lucky? “Aunt Elise said. She was beginning to be concerned about Zoey’s weakness.
But when they walked by that same librarian on the way out, Zoey stopped short and looked at her. Aunt Elise picked up the cue and went over to talk to this seemingly ordinary woman. There was indeed something strange about this librarian.
“Here we go, we’re taking out another book on witches!” and Aunt Elise really emphasized the word. “We need a remedy.” And she smiled ever so sweetly at the older woman. And when she looked down she saw that this otherwise ordinary-looking librarian’s hand was shaking and that her nails were excessively long and painted an ugly purple.
They checked out the book with her, but when they got to the parking lot they stopped abruptly to talk.
“Oh my God!” Zoey exclaimed, “She stinks to high heaven of rot or something! It’s stronger now than it was when I first met her. “
“I didn’t smell that, Zoey, but I felt drawn and repelled at the same time. But she’s just an ordinary...” and then she added, “Or is she? Did you see her nails?” And with that question, they both looked at each other.
They went into Aunt Elise’s little red car and perused the index. “Here!” she exclaimed- pointing to something on the index page. “The odor of witches.”
And Zoey went to the page indicated and read aloud, “To the ones that are born and live here as witch warriors they will be able to smell the smell of death and evil from the witches. They must take care and approach with caution.”
“She’s a witch!” exclaimed Zoey. “We have our witch!” Aunt Elise just smiled and looked off into the distance.
THE REMEDY.
“I need to go home to get some aromatherapy oils, and then we can get back here about half an hour before the library closes.” Aunt Elise said as she started up the car.
“Aromatherapy oils? You have something in all your little bottles that works with witches?” Zoey asked.
“Well, there just might be! I remember reading something about Geranium, I’m not sure. Let’s hurry cause we need all the help we can get.” And they drove back home.
They ran their errand and were back at the library at 5:30 pm. The library closed at 6 pm. but most of the people had already left. They had discussed a few scattered ideas on what they should do, as they drove back, but they had no real plan.
They walked up to the librarian and this time Zoey took note of the name tag on the desk—Miss Meredith Fink. Aunt Elise spoke first.
“Excuse me but we may need your help!” The librarian looked up apprehensively.
“You ladies were just here a while ago,” Miss Meredith Fink exclaimed, “Is there a problem?”
Zoey leaned on the desk and said, “Yes, Meredith, a big problem. I really need your help!” And when the librarian simply stared at her, Zoey looked around to see if anyone was near and then stuck her hand near the woman.
“I have a bite here and I need your help,” Zoey said looking up at her.
“Well, what’s that got to do with me?” She answered, and the look of distaste on her face was obvious.
“You know, Meredith,” Zoey said playfully, “It’s a witch’s bite!” And with that phrase, Meredith, the librarian rose abruptly. Her dank smell became stronger to Zoey and was almost unbearable. In her weakened state, she felt faint.
“Where are you going, Meredith?” Aunt Elise asked abruptly. “We need you to help us. You are a witch, aren’t you?” The librarian stepped away from the desk and started backing away. A weird sing-song sound rose in her witch’s throat.
“If you don’t help us, we’ll tell the library that they have an old witch working for them- they wouldn’t like that now, would they!” Meredith, the witch, began reciting something that sounded spell-ish so Zoey began with her counter phrasing.
“Oh, Meredith dear witch you are so caring