The Witch Next Door
A simple conversation between generations causes angst in the spooky time of year.
Oscar jumped from the school bus, skipping two of the steps and landing with the strength of a pole vaulter. Renee took each stair like a model on the runway. She shook her head in disapproval, even though the corners of her glossed lips tipped upwards.
"You are such a boy!" She pushed ahead of him and trudged up the hill toward home.
"And your point is …?"
With school finally out for the holiday weekend, he refused to contain his excitement for the grand party that would consume everybody's attention.
To tease his big sister, he moon-walked around her, bumping his backpack against hers. Even the trek up the steep rise failed to dampen his mood. It was the last weekend in October and in Nevada, that meant Halloween and Nevada Day, which celebrated the entry of a Wild West territory into statehood. A huge parade unleashed all kinds of celebratory mayhem and kids joined the fun along with the adults.
Turning the corner, Renee hunched her shoulders and pulled her collar around her face despite the sunny day that registered high 70s. "Ohmygod, look. There's the witch… sweeping her sidewalk. And that huge cat of hers, too. Let's walk faster."
Oscar followed suit, flipping up his hood to obscure his face. If they walked on the opposite side of the street, she probably wouldn't notice them at all. The old lady rarely emerged from her house and never welcomed trick-or-treaters. Nobody knew much about her except she and her husband moved from California and were cordial enough. They always waved as they drove by, as everybody did on that street. Everybody minded their own business, though, and so did they.
The old man let all the pretty lawns die and planted potatoes, onions, and garlic. The woman kept a flock of chickens and would walk down the hill to tend to them every day. That big black cat of hers would follow everywhere she went, swishing a massive tail that must've weighed ten pounds alone. One summer a bunch of mullein cropped up in a patch of neat rows as if planted that way on purpose. When the season ended, the woman filled a plastic bag with mullein leaves.
Oscar's mother even said she wondered what she was going to do with those leaves. Maybe they were a couple of those "rewilding" people, letting a beautifully landscaped acre go back to a weed patch. She didn't know which was worse, rewilders or democrats.
It was weird, Renee exclaimed one day. "Most Californians plant everything they can to make their piece of desert just like in California."
These people started right in by turning off the water to all the beautiful grass the former resident spent his weekends mowing and tending. He told their Dad it was his hobby.
"Guess the old man didn't want to cut all that grass," Oscar said in defense. "Instead, he put up that antenna next to the house."
"Now that's weird," his sister agreed. "Weird! What's he going to do with that?"
"Who knows, but everybody around here has a workshop with some project going on. They don't seem to want to hurt anybody with what they're doing. It's their acre. They can do what they want with it."
"Yeah, well, remember what Mom told us when she saw the woman during one of her walks in the desert. She said that woman was gathering up a bunch of plastic and other garbage dumped under a pinion out there. She got Mom to help her haul it back to put in her trash can. Then, and this is the really weird part, she picked up a dead snake they saw on the way back. Carried it all the way home. You don't think that's weird? What's she going to do with a dead snake? Feed it to that cat?"
A couple of years passed. Then the gardens withered and her chickens disappeared. Nobody saw either one of them. The only sign of life was when her car backed out of the garage.
"Hi kids. Happy Nevada Day." The old woman stopped her sweeping and smiled as they paused at the gate in her chain link fence.
Renee stared at Oscar as if they'd been caught shoplifting. She always tried to look so cool by sticking her nose in the air and never making eye contact, but Oscar knew that, not too far under her skin, Renee was scared shitless. He nodded at her and walked calmly toward the woman. He heard Rene gasp a bit, then her shoes scuffed across the gravel driveway behind him.
"Hi ma'am. It's looks like it's going to be another good day for the parade. Ya goin'?"
"Maybe. Harold and I went every year to help with radio communications, but he's dead now, so I don't know."
At that, Renee squeezed his wrist, but he shook her off. "Where's your manners? She isn't hurting us."
The woman continued unabated by their private asides. "I especially got quite a kick out of the Burning Man art cars at the end. I loved all the ethnic floats, too, the horses, and the Mexican dancers and those gorgeous, colorful dresses they'd swirl around." She picked up the hem of her voluminous turquoise muumuu and pivoted this way and that. The breeze flared her salt-and-pepper mane that reached her shoulders. Not to be left out, the cat slid across her legs as if taking the cue for a dance with his mistress.
"That cat's her familiar," Renee whispered, rolling her eyes. Oscar elbowed her to be quiet.
"Yeah, I like those art cars too. That one with all the smoke and fire coming out of it is awesome. And I like the Devil Mountain guys with their powder rifles. Man, those things make a powerful sound."
Now Renee elbowed Oscar. Hard. She hated guns and didn't appreciate his ardor for them. Ever since he and their father went elk hunting together last fall, the kid was obsessed and loved their weekly target shooting practices. Renee avoided being dragged along by saying she had homework to do.
"Um … I like the dancers too, ma'am," she finally managed to say.
Another gust of wind rose up just then and scattered the cleared walkway with leaves again, much to the woman's dismay. Sweeping them away, she frightened a large blue lizard from underneath the siding on the house. Rene screamed as it careened around in terror before disappearing once again under the siding.
"Oh don't let my lizards scare you, hon. They eat the black widows that have invaded my house. I'd use spider poison, but I don't want to kill my lizards. And Beau here loves to eat my lizards. That's his only fault."
"You like lizards?" Renee shivered at the thought of both lizards and spiders.
"Of course. Between them, the toads, and the bats, my garden is fairly bug free. At least the bugs I don't want. I had a few grasshoppers this year, but Beau took care of them, too. I just wish he'd leave the lizards alone. He caught a huge one that wandered into the house yesterday and crunched it down right there in the dining room. Blew me away!" Her face crinkled with amusement as the expression of disgust deepened across Renee's face. So far, no eye roll, but the old woman knew it would be coming sooner or later.
She tapped the ground with her broom, then picked off a few cobwebs the broom had snared. She deftly flipped the webs from her fingers, noting the tiny dead widow hanging from them.
"I don't know why I bother to sweep. When the Afternoon Zephyr comes along, it forms a vortex here in the corner of the house."
"A vortex?" Oscar perked up. He'd heard that word during a Halloween ghost tour he and Renee went on last year. The old lady running that tour was almost as weird as this one.
"Yes. The wind whips around and gets caught in this corner, blowing leaves around and around. It doesn't know where to go from there, so it just drops the leaves on my porch and sidewalk. Makes quite a mess. Since hardly anyone comes by but the UPS driver, I don't waste my time sweeping everyday. It's nonsense."
Suddenly, she started sweeping the gravel alongside the walk, pushing the leaves several feet away from the sidewalk. "Okay, let's see if that helps." Seeing the kids' surprise, she laughed outright. "Well, it worked, didn't it? I could use a rake, but a broom moves the leaves without moving the rocks. Get it?"
Ah, there it was. The eye roll.
Renee backhanded Oscar's arm lightly and turned to go. "I have homework to do. C'mon, Oscar." Without another word, the girl was halfway to the gate before Oscar awoke from what seemed like a dazed stupor. He gazed down at the gravel as if hypnotized. Or, she reckoned, his adolescent brain had snagged itself on the wonders of physics.
"Oh … yeah… well, nice meeting you, ma'am." He backed away slowly, stumbling a bit on the tree root, before joining his sister on the road.
The woman sighed as she watched them amble down the road. "Come on, Beau, I need a nap and a cuddle. I'm suddenly very weary." Picking up the massive animal, she draped him over her shoulder and shut the door with an audible click.
"She is so weird," Renee huffed as she opened their front door and threw her pack on the floor.
"Maybe so. That vortex thing and sweeping those rocks with a broom … man … that's really cool, though."
"Yeah, what else does she do with that broom?"
Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this post feel free to explore other poems, essays, and stories in the Ring Around the Basin Archive. I also love to read your comments, so please share your thoughts. Let’s start a conversation. And if you wish to support my writings, please consider subscribing or upgrading to a paid subscription. It’s now only $50/year. Even better, I would appreciate it if you could share Ring Around the Basin with your friends. Thank you!
All my books, Paradise Ridge, When the Horses Come and Go, and Ghost in the Forest are currently available on Kindle.
Ghost in the Forest, is also available in paperback for ten bucks. Paradise Ridge is out-of-print, but the Kindle version is re-edited and better quality. Hard copies of “When the Horses Come and Go” are gone unless that dusty box in the corner still has some.
Book Review of Ghost in the Forest:
"Ghost in The Forest" is a great read! Take note People. If you love stories about environmentalism and nature, its clash with urban mindsets, as well as personal transformation, this is the book for you!
"Ghost in The Forest" is a quick 126-page read. It's the story of Dori, a woman trapped in a mix of grief over parental loss and refusing to accept how her hometown and her friends have changed over the years. Because of this, Dori has become a recluse and a self-imposed misanthrope who finds more comfort amongst the hiking trails around her hometown of Morristown than in her dealings with the raw reality of other humans.
The book, in some ways, resembled Edward Abbey’s “Desert Solitaire” in that the story follows a protagonist's love of nature and angst about humans encroaching on it. In this case, it’s how Morristown is transforming into a mountain biking destination where cyclists run rampant on trails and nature.
However, a tragedy involving said mountain biking becomes a major pivot point for Dori, leading to a series of events that eventually bring about personal evolution and discovery.
If you're a nature lover, this book is a must-read. It beautifully portrays the clash between environmentalism and urban mindsets and the journey of personal transformation. The book's vivid descriptions of nature and the protagonist's love for it will surely intrigue you.
Paradise Ridge Review by western author D. B. Jackson:
If you draw circle roughly around an area that includes northern Nevada, southern Oregon, and southern Idaho, within that circle exists a culture and people who live a lifestyle largely untouched by modern values. These are the "buckaroos" and Basque characters author Sue Cauhape brings to life in her literary novel, "Paradise Ridge".
Leandro, the illegitimate seventh son of patriarch Xavier Arriaga and his mistress, Gisela, is at the center of this intriguing story that travels exceedingly successfully at both the personal level of the characters, as well as the compelling level where the story is told.
Cauhape writes in a literary style that reminds me of Annie Poulx. Paradise Ridge, on the surface, appears to be an upscale Western novel...once inside the pages, you will soon discover a potential classic waiting to be discovered.
I rated this book a 5...because that's all the stars there were.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, MY FRIENDS, FROM ME AND BUDA. MAY YOUR FESTIVITIES SCARE AWAY ALL YOUR DEMONS THAT TROUBLE YOU.
Now I know what those fuzzy plants growing wild on my property are! Thanks Sharron, this is a delightful story.
Ha ha ha . You made a valiant attempt here to be scary, but your good nature and sense of humor took over. Darned cute. Hey! I sweep my leaves, too. The rocks remain undisturbed. Sweet Buda looks quite content letting you dress him/her up. Our Raymond would never stand for that!