by Ruthie Lancaster

Created on: September 14, 2009

The Witch's Kid

The rusty old wagon gave a final squawk as Carlee pulled it to a stop in front of the bright red mailbox at the end of Mr. Newt Gentry's lane. Dropping the handle of the old wagon the girl stretched, reaching high to get the kinks out of her back. It was a long walk to and from the little town of Morrison where Carlee collected her county check and bought supplies for the month. The girl slipped the envelope containing the rent money she owed to Mr. Gentry into his mailbox with a soft sigh of contentment. It was good to have the trip behind her. Carlee didn't like being away from her home...or apart from Mother.

The girl looked across the deserted highway for the big gray cat. As always, Mother was patiently waiting at the end of the red dirt road, which led to their shack. Her tail twitched in greeting and Carlee grinned as she waved to the cat.

As the girl reached for the handle of the wagon, her body froze in mid-movement and her face jerked toward the direction of the Gentry barn at the far end of the well-kept lane. The force of her nausea caused the girl to stagger. She clamped one hand over her mouth as she swallowed convulsively, striving to keep back the bile that threatened to erupt from her.

The sound of Mother's snarl of rage from across the highway was the key that released Carlee from her paralysis. Carlee's body sprang to life. She grabbed the handle of the wagon and ran across the highway. Mother crouched in the dirt; ears flattened against her big head. Carlee scooped the snarling cat up under one arm and raced for her home, the old wagon squealing in protest with every turn of its wheels behind her.

Both Carlee and the cat were choking in the red dust raised by her pounding feet in the few minutes it took to reach their home. The weather-blistered shack with the sagging roof looked beautiful to the girl. Dropping Mother and the wagon handle, simultaneously, she barely made it around the corner of the shack before her stomach spewed their contents. When there was nothing left to come up, the girl made her way into the shack on trembling legs.

In sharp contrast to the exterior, the inside of the shack shone with cleanliness. A rag rug, gleaming with jewel-like colors covered the floor of the room. Shelves against the walls were filled with books, crockery and sweet smelling herbs. A rocking chair and a shining cherry wood table bare except for a kerosene lantern provided comfort in the room.

Carlee immediately went to the water

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