The Witch on Main Street

“There’s where the witch lives,” said Johnny pointing at the sun bleached wooden house down the street. He bounced his kickball against the garage door and smirked slyly at Billy. “C’mon,” he called dropping the ball in the lawn, “Let’s ring her door!”

“Are you crazy?!” Billy cried flapping his arms at his brave little friend. Johnny proceeded inattentively toward the end of Main Street. The two boys only made it past the first beige house with the blue door when Johnny’s dad spotted them coming home from work. “Where you boys going?” he asked wearily. His dad was a tired man, ever since Johnny could remember, never up for games or adventure.

“He’s making me go to the witch- ouch!” Billy yelped rubbing his pudgy foot, “Why did have you step on my foot?” He glared at his friend. “Nowhere,” responded Johnny. His dad lowered his sunglasses, and his vibrant green eyes squinted over the horizon. The sun was still caressing the hills with seemingly endless light even at supper time. “Be back before dark,” his dad said driving away. The summer heat made the sun stay out longer, which was good for the boys.

Finally after many beige houses with blue doors later, the two boys had made it to the witch’s house. Billy let out a yelp as Johnny’s foot crunched the dead grass on the lawn. Moving as quickly and lightly as possible, Johnny crept toward the doorbell. “Three more steps, two more steps,” he counted.

On the sidewalk, Billy’s eyes jolted back into his head and barely could gasp for air. Through a yellow stained window, a dark shadow hunched over, motionless. Only its long fingers brushed along the sill. “Johnny!” he screamed. Dong… dong. Suddenly, Johnny’s legs froze. He slowly turned his head to Billy who was pointing at the moving figure in the window. “Run!” Billy shouted, “she’s coming!” Johnny panicked. All he wanted to do was run away from the disturbingly hollow shack, but his legs were confined to the wooden step. The witch must have done it, he thought, she must have put some sort of curse on him. “Help! My legs are stuck!” he cried. But Billy’s stubby legs were already wobbling down the sidewalk in distress.

“They always run away,” a voice murmured. Johnny felt the breath crawling down his neck. He prepared for the worst as he turned around and in return, received exactly what he imagined. The witch was aged; her pale skin was dotted with discolored bumps and her wrinkles seemed more like cuts with closer inspection. Her eyes, however, were untouched by the years. The blue color looked as though it was painted on. A mix of ocean water and summer skies.

“I-I’m sorry,” he quivered. The words tingled off his lips so coarsely, they stung. The old woman sighed looking down the overgrown cobblestone pathway. A gust of wind blew the last leaves off the dead tree in the yard, and the empty house wept as the warm air struck. “Please come in,” she said offering the chair in the corner. Slightly intrigued, Johnny took a seat on the red velvet armchair placed next to a warm fireplace. The old lady carefully placed herself in a quaint rocker across from him. Johnny smiled thinking how wrong he was about the witch. Although she barely said a couple sentences, the house itself contained most of the charm. An antique chandelier hung above his left and fragrant flowers sat in the center of a round coffee table. However, the entire room looked like an old photograph, Johnny noted. He blinked a few times to make sure. But in fact, the house seemed yellowed. The rugs, the windows, the furniture all stained in shades of umber.

“What is your name?” she asked pouring a glass of water from the coffee table offering it to him. He kindly accepted.

“Johnny” he answered, “and yours?”

“It’s Emily.”

“Who’s that?” Johnny curiously pointed to the 10 inch photo centered on the fireplace. The man was handsome and oddly familiar; a genuine smile showed only a hint of his teeth and his chest was raised as though he was taking in a breath of refreshing air. The picture was faded, but the tint of the room made it less noticeable.

“Jack…” Emily’s blue eyes drifted off into the photo, “doesn’t he look happy?”

Johnny nodded.

“He and I were happy then. Yes, we spent all our time together. Soul mates, we were. Me and Jack…”

“Then what happened?”

“I’m not sure,” she said clearing her voice. Johnny took careful inspection of the photo and noticed his eyes were green. Quickly he set it back noticing the reflection of his face melt into the frame.

“You remind me of Jack,” Emily smiled.

Johnny’s throat tensed.

“Your curiosity I suppose.” Slightly relieved by this, he concluded it was just a coincidence.

“Well, you better run along home,” she said, “but I did enjoy your company”. Johnny looked out the window to see he had just enough time to get home before dark. He smiled at Emily and left quietly from the rotted front door.

Unfortunately, he forgot about the sunset colored windows. The night had already consumed the pale blue skies. It couldn’t have been more than an hour, he thought, I can’t believe I was there that long.

He shook off the house’s stale odor and breathed the night air. Even though Johnny knew his dad would be angry about missing the curfew, he couldn’t wait to tell the boys at school he went inside the witch’s house.