The four girls, Marge Aaron, Hadley Joy Morris-Whitfield, Robinson Leary, and Mary Rose McGill were gathered around table 12 in the Meadow Lakes spacious dining room. Their only companion was Geoffrey the Mastiff who was curled up with a part of his big body touching each woman’s foot.
“We have to find her,” Mary Rose Said. “What if Cyreel has killed her and hidden her body?”
“I understand she’s a big woman, and I doubt poor old Cyreel could drag her very far from wherever he did her in,” Marge said.
“Raven says she’s in the cottage where we found the four witches,” Robbie added.
“Mable, Myrtle, Mildred and Fred,” the other three said together.
Mary Rose giggled, then covered her mouth with her hands, looking embarrassed.
They looked at her.
“I was thinking about them telling how Percolator Rassmussen ‘flashed’ them,” she said with a shy yet sly grin.
“They were sitting on their porch steps,” Marge began, “and Perky showed up in a raincoat like Columbo’s.”
“And he opened it up and showed them what he had,” Hadley grinned.
“Then remember what one of the witches said?” Mary Rose asked, leaning in closer.
“Let’s say it was Mildred – she said, ‘I had a stroke, Mable had a stroke, Myrtle had a stroke. but Fred couldn’t reach that far.’”
The witches had claimed Percolator was a vampire and that he would have bitten them. They were old. They had weak blood. They were all anemic and they had to kill him to save their own blood supply.
“As it turned out, they didn’t kill him after all,” Marge remembered.
“But they disappeared,” Robbie added.
“And now Raven says they are back and that Zoomer Schmeel is with them.” Hadley said.
They were quiet for a minute.
“Okay,” Marge finally said, “Tonight we go do heavy-duty snooping at the witches’ cottage. We’ll leave a midnight.”
“Midnight!” the other three said together, waking Geoffrey, who went right back to sleep.
“At our age, midnight is nine o’clock!” Robbie said.
Hadley and Mary Rose nodded.
Marge looked at them. “We leave at nine o’clock,” she said.
“We leave at 7,” Mary Rose said. “It’s totally dark then, the witches will have lights on in the cottage, we can look in the windows, then be home and in bed by nine.” The BOOB Girls: the height of practicality.
Marge looked at them, opened her mouth then shut it again.
“Okay,” she nodded.
At five minutes before 7pm, they met at the back door of the Meadow Lakes kitchen. They were dressed in black, complete with black walking shoes, black socks, black slacks and black hoodies. They looked as formidable as they possibly could look.
“Let’s do this,” Marge said. She had her red cane in one hand and used it as she started out the door. In her other hand she held a flashlight. Each of the BOOB Girls had her cell phone gripped tightly in one hand.
They walked silently across the Meadow Lakes lawn, picked up a narrow path, walked carefully through a woods.
“Ouch!” Hadley whispered as she ran into a low branch.
“Shh!” the other three said. It came out louder than Hadley’s whisper.
In a few minutes they came out into a clearing that overlooked a small, beat-up cottage. An ancient porch sagged across the entire front.
Not one of them had noticed that the back door to the Meadow Lakes dining room had slowly opened a few minutes after they slipped out. None of them noticed the figure in a long black coat and walking with a black cane slip out the door as well and close it silently and carefully.
The figure waited until they were nearly across the lawn, then walked silently after them, knowing where they were headed. When they stopped just outside the woods the figure ducked behind a tree and waited for them to move on.
After just a few minutes, the figure, now a dark shadow, saw them nod at each other and move toward the cottage. The specter moved to the edge of the woods and ducked behind another tree. The cottage, soft lights coming from inside and smoke curling out of the chimney was in full view.
There was total silence as the four black-hooded women moved toward a window. They carefully eased their hooded heads up to the glass and looked in.
Suddenly the front door of the cottage flew open. Mildred, the smallest witch, stood on the porch, a rifle in her hands. She aimed it at the girls.
“Please do come in, ladies,” she said, then she cackled.
The girls looked at each other.
The dark figure behind the tree stood stock still, watching, a malicious grin moving across an ugly face.
Marge shrugged and hid her cane behind her back. They waked to the porch. Mildred motioned with her rifle for them to come up the steps.
As the got to the porch, the front door opened. A large, solid woman with screaming pink hair was grinning at them with the single most evil grin Mary Rose McGill had ever imaged.
The woman was holding a wooden tray with four large mugs of something very hot. Steam was circling her head, giving her an eerie, horrifying expression. In one crazy instant, Mary Rose thought of The Night Before Christmas.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
The steam around Zoomer Schmeel’s head was the ugliest wreath Mary Rose had ever seen.
“BOOB Girls. We thought you’d never get here! Do come in!” Zoomer said.
Then they heard the cackles of three other voices behind her.
(To be continued)
A Note From Joy
Yes she said, I do know how to drive a stick
She held up her broom
You are a witch
Yes she said
You can cast spells and lay a curse
Yes she said
I can cuss like a sailor if I have to
You have animals “familiars” that help you
Yes she said
She looked down beside the man. Is this your dog? Good girl Good dog