The Witch and the Duplex

Elizabeth Fitzgibbon stared at her rose red sneakers and drooping socks as she sat on the five-step stoop of their too-small-too-thin-too-shabby duplex. She clutched the straps of her blue backpack tightly. She hated it here. The movers shuffled by her, carrying boxes and furniture over her head.

“Honey, can’t you do something useful?”

Her mother grunted. She carried two brown parcels, almost as big as Ellie, and her face was completely hidden as she stumbled up the steps.

“I don’t like it. I don’t want to. Can’t I stay at Grandma’s?” Ellie whined. She stretched her legs and swung her neck up. Her chestnut hair fell and drew curtains over her hazel eyes. “Puhleasssee?”

“Ellie, you’ll never know if you like it if you don’t try it.” She placed the boxes, mid stair, put her hands on her hips and said with a sigh. “Give it a shot? Okay kiddo?”

Elizabeth scrunched her face and nodded hesitantly. Her mom slapped her hands on her thighs, smiled and then picked up the boxes and continued up the stairs and in through the door. Ellie waited until she was out of earshot and mumbled, “I still hate it.” She growled and pushed off the cement and trudged through the door. The duplex was an ugly, brown, shabby building and smelt like a bingo hall. It had ugly yellow tinted wallpaper with big, hideous flowers that looked like something out of a sci-fi flick. Old furniture stood throughout the house covered in large, dusty sheets and they speckled the house like ghosts of the past. It creaked and moaned with every step. It was cold, drafty, eerie, and spooky and Ellie Fitzgibbon hated it.

She stomped up the stairs and made her way to the rooms. There was two bedrooms, the larger on the left was her mother’s and the one on the right was hers. It was not as unappealing as the rest of the home. It was almost livable. The room was white and light blue with white wood paneling, plushy shag carpet and a bay window. The bed had a black frame with gold balls on each of the four posts, which reminded her of royalty. She put her backpack on the bed and sniffed her pink nose, rubbing it with the back of hand.

“I guess this is okay,” She whispered. Her eyes wet with tears, her heart raced, and her breath choked. “I’ll just stay in here forever.” She threw her head into the pillow and cried. She cried as if she had never cried before. Why did life have to be so unfair? She’ll leave this room when she’s old and gray! With pruned fingers, she’ll wave goodbye to her mother and never look back! She pictured herself in a cell, wearing a prisoner’s black and white garb, begging her mother for freedom. Prosecuted unjustly for crimes she didn’t commit! “Justice!” She cried, grasping and tugging on the poles of her bedframe. She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the blue wall. There was a tapping.

“Huh?” She gasped. Shooting straight up, her toes dangling off the bed, she continued to stare. Her heart thumping loudly in her chest. Another tap came.

Tap, tap, tap.

“Ellie! Come meet our new neighbor!”

Her mother called out from downstairs. Ellie slipped off the bed, looking at the wall one last time before shaking her head. If the neighbor was downstairs, then who was knocking? She followed her mom’s voice, through the hall, down the stairs and there in front of the door, she stood. The witch. Elizabeth Fitzgibbon could never explain the insatiable, relentless feeling she had in that moment. The feeling that screamed that this woman before her was, absolutely-no-doubt-about-it, a real-life witch. Her silver and blue hair was piled high on her head, her large nose resembled a turkey’s beak, green dress buttoned practically up to her triangular chin and she wore hideous brown boots. Ellie wasn’t sure if that was really a sign of being a witch or not, but she hated those ugly, beat-up leather sheathes.

“There you are Ellie! This is our new neighbor, Mrs. Perkins!” Her mother said. She wrapped a hand around Elizabeth and gently shoved her in front of her legs. Ellie stared up at the woman, her hands twisting together and tangling in the bottom of her shirt. She crinkled her nose and squeaked.

“H-hello...” She mumbled.

“What a beautiful child you are!” Mrs. Perkins said through a yellow-toothed grin. Her face rippled with one hundred or more wrinkles. Elizabeth wondered if that was all that the old hag was made of-wrinkles. “I could just eat…you…up!” She said, leaning over closer and closer.

Elizabeth shivered. She pictured Hansel and Gretel. She pictured Mrs. Perkins resting in a recliner with a smoking cigar and a large, grotesque belly full of neighboring children. Be brave, Ellie! Her face twisted, her eyebrows furrowed, and she took a deep breath.

“Do you live all alone?” Ellie asked, her eyes glued to the stranger.

Mrs. Perkins returned to towering over the young girl. Her head cocked to the side and her face one peculiar and curious. Her wrinkled hands hiding inside a mink warmer.

“I do,” she replied.

“Then what was making that noise?”

“What noise?”

“Ellie! I’m sorry. She’s still a little mad about the move.” Her mother tucked her back behind her legs and ushered her to leave the room, which Ellie happily obliged. She slinked over to the parlor and dropped into one of the covered chairs, still listening to her mother whisper to the witch. “It was very sudden, and we just lost her father a year ago. Cancer. It’s been really rough, and her imagination is going wild.”

“I completely understand, dear. No need to explain to me,” the woman said. “Please send her by my place, I would love the company.”

Elizabeth’s stomach knotted. No, no, no.

“You wouldn’t mind? Oh, she would love that. That would be such a relief.”

Her mother just offered her up to the slaughter. Just like that, no resistance. Traitor.

The next day, Ellie found herself outside of the duplex. She stared at the rumpled house, looking at the windows glare into her soul. She couldn’t help but wonder what monsters lurked inside, what dark secrets were tucked away, and where did she hide the bones? She stuck a pudgy finger outward to the little white doorbell and heard it buzz, impatiently. The house moaned and then the door opened. It was dark, but beckoned for her to come inside. She stepped over the threshold and the door closed behind her.

“Hello?” She called. Ellie knew that if there was no answer that she could not possibly get in trouble for going home. Then, she would not be rude or disobedient or whatever else adults would accuse her of.

“In here dear,” Mrs. Perkins replied.

Ellie hung her head, recited a mantra, and continued. She followed a few candles that supplied nearly no light at all to a door that was cracked. She wandered through the darkness and screamed as something brushed past her legs. A cat! That’s what was making the noise on her wall! She could see a thread of bright light spilling into the darkness. She pushed it and was blinded. She covered her brow with a hand and stepped deeper into the room. Her eyes adjusted to reveal a treasure trove.

“Woah!” She breathed.

Mrs. Perkins looked up from her sowing and smiled. She barely budged except to put her embroidery hoop down in her lap and to turn and face the child.

“Welcome to my home,” she greeted. “Now, I am sure you’re curious as to why I invited you here.”

Ellie nodded, still a bit shocked by the room around her.

“Well, I figure you know…. I’m a little different,” she said. Again, Ellie nodded. “And I figure you are a little different, too.” Ellie now looked at her suspiciously. Mrs. Perkins stood slowly, rubbing a crick in her back, and finally staggered over to a coffee table where a tin dome rested. She lifted the lid, revealing a delicious, chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and dressed in raspberries. Elizabeth’s mouth watered and her stomach grumbled. “I think you and I should talk. Would you like some?”

Again, fables rushed through her mind. She knew better, didn’t she? She took a step back away from Mrs. Perkins and looked around the parlor.

“Who’s that?” Ellie quickly changed the subject, pointing to a picture on the shelf.

“My husband, Mr. Perkins,” She replied, her face a little somber.

“Where is he?”

“He’s dead,” Mrs. Perkin’s gave a weak smile. “Lost him to cancer, as well. About fifteen years ago today, in fact.”

Ellie’s shoulders drooped like her socks. She felt a little guilty, but also a little doubtful. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” She said, grabbing a plate as she started to carve out slices of cake.

“Why didn’t you use your magic?”

Mrs. Perkins almost dropped the dish, “What’s that?”

“You’re a witch, ma’am. I know you are, so don’t try to lie to me. I’m smarter than I look, y’know. So, why didn’t you save him?” Ellie stood quite still, puffing out her chest and Mrs. Perkins laughed.

“My, oh my. You’re absolutely smart, my child.” She continued to giggle. She handed a slice to Elizabeth and licked chocolate off her thumb. “There are some things that you can’t do.” She poured some tea into two cups, grabbed her cup, and settled back in her chair. “You can’t change fate and you can’t change love. Believe me, I tried. If you start messing around in those areas, you start dabbling in the dark stuff. Next thing you know, you’re my aunt Priscilla, and you’ve raised zombies and found yourself hanged by angry villagers.” She chuckled.

“Then, what good is it?” Ellie scoffed. Her eyes welled with tears again as she took a large bite of cake off her fork.

“Oh, many wonderful things, child. You cannot change fate, but you can help things. You can ease things. Many incredible things,” She smiled. “I was going to save him, but you know the darndest thing happened? He said no. Now, Elizabeth. I never had children of my own, again… Magic couldn’t help me, but I don’t have anyone to share my knowledge or life with. I could feel something special in you, something strong, something great and now with your acute observation I know I was right. So, my question is… Would you like to be friends? Would you like to be a witch?”

Elizabeth had listened intently, her eyes wide and still a little wet, and her cheeks both full of cake. She took a hard swallow, but her mouth was still full. “Yes! But I have one more question before we start…” She looked down and smiled. “Could I have some more?”

Ellie and Mrs. Perkins spent every day together, even during the school year. They made many memories and became family. Elizabeth would remember that day forever and even still when Mrs. Perkins was long gone, she would think back and say, she was alright for a witch and maybe, just maybe, Ellie Fitzgibbon didn't quite hate it at all.