Witch of Apple Hill ~ part 7

The door chimed again, this time announcing Mr. King and his cane. Elise couldn’t help but wonder if all the founding families would soon enter her library.

“Why Ms. Welch you’re looking awful spry today,” said Mr. King taking off his hat.

Elise knew that Mr. King was a tad bit older than Ms. Welch, even if Ms. Welch moved slower and acted as if Death was tapping on her door to let him in constantly.

“I’ve never been spry, Mr. King,” snapped Ms. Welch.

“Hey, why don’t you come swimming with me at the community center tomorrow morning,” said Mr. King with a smile on his face. Elise couldn’t help but be jealous of Mr. King’s beautiful brown complexion. Even pushing eighty, the man had flawless skin and his bright smile made him even more handsome.

“I don’t know how to swim,” stated Ms. Welch. “I get wet and then I have to go to the beauty parlor. That chair hurts my bum as it is.”

“Come on,” encouraged Mr. King, “I’ll have my granddaughter do your hair for free and I’ll even bring you a cushion to sit on.”

Ms. Welch waved him off. “Your granddaughter doesn’t have time for me, she’s the best in town. Besides, the witches curse has started again. If I go swimming I’ll probably get pneumonia and die.”

Elise felt herself bristle a little. She might give someone a snotty nose, but she would never put them through pneumonia. Besides, it was too dangerous to give Ms. Welch even a cold, since Elise had her do no deadly harm oath and Ms. Welch was frail anyway.

“Oh pish posh,” said Mr. King. “There’s not witch.”

“What about last night?” asked Ms. Welch.

“Freak storm.”

“You’re family helped found this place. You know the stories.” Ms. Welch squinted her eyes at Mr. King. “Have you not felt her wrath?”

Mr. King nodded, but his smile didn’t fade. “Every so often we go through a spell of bad luck, nothing else. The rest of the time, we live in the prettiest place on earth. If the legend is true, and she wants to drive us out of Apple Hill so she can have it all for herself, I’m afraid she’ll have to do a lot more than itchy palms and a mess on Main Street.”

Elise heard Roark grumble under the table. She smiled as she dropped her pencil holder onto the floor and then bent to pick them up. She looked her spider friend in the eyes. “Oh he doesn’t mind itchy palms? Let’s test that shall we?”

She began to whisper, “In the spirit of poison ivy, nature hear my call. Make Mr. King eat his words with the itchiest palms of all.”

The spider let out a small giggle of delight. “Now what for Ms. Welch?”

Roark squeaked and Elise smiled as she whispered. “Ms. Welch hates to get wet, let’s make her fret. She’ll desire water or she’ll just get hotter. In the pool she’ll live, until the word I give.”

Elise flicked her wrists in the directions of Mr. King and Ms. Welch letting both of her curses fly through the air and land on their prey.

Elise stood and placed the pens back on the desk. “Sorry about that. Need some help or just hear to browse?”

Her smile grew as she saw Mr. King rubbing his palm against his cane. “I’m just here to browse. Ms. Welch, any time you want to swim, just give me a call.”

He started towards the fiction, stopping every few steps to scratch his palms.

“Mr. King,” called Ms. Welch, “on second thought a swim sounds really nice. I mean, it’s so hot. Can we go now?”

Mr. King turned and smiled. “Of course, I’ll drive.”

“I’ll have to stop and get my suit,” said Ms. Welch. “I don’t even know if it still fits, it’s older than Moses.”

“I bet it looks lovely,” said Mr. King, scratching his palm.

“Let’s go then,” said Ms. Welch. “It’s too hot to stand here yacking about it. I need to be in the water now.”

Mr. King laughed. “Maybe it’s the witch’s curse?”

“No curse, just old age,” snapped Ms. Welch, “let’s get moving!”