Wee Witch Next Door

Summer days ruffled gently--like the pages of a storybook being turned by an unknown hand.  So Jake never noticed that ol’ black magic lurking at the edges of autumn just waiting to cast its first spell.

“What to do?”  he pondered as he hung upside-down--suspended like a question mark in a tree full of little green apples.  Having read somewhere that distance put problems into proper perspective, Jake climbed up the highest limb of the highest tree in Farmer John’s orchard.  But, try as he might, no distance in the world could put the little girl next door into proper perspective.

She had changed overnight.  Yesterday she was just Dizzy Lizzie--the little tag-along sister of Jake’s best buddy.  Not worth a thought, except how to get rid of her. 

But, by some strange hocus pocus, Lizzie crept into Jake's dreams last night and now refused to leave.  Jake couldn't get rid of her.  Once again she was tagging along, but this time inside his head. 

Sure, Lizzie was still a tag-along, but everything else about her had changed:  Her laughter rode on bat wings. Her pig tails were real tails of piglets; they squealed when Jake pulled them.  And Jake couldn’t double-dog swear that Lizzie’s freckles were alive, but he seriously suspected they were.  If he turned around fast enough, he could catch them dancing on the tip of Lizzie’s nose.

Then there was the little matter of those awful spells:

         With the lowering of a single eyelid, Lizzie could make the blood           
         rush straight from Jake's "shooting" thumb to his hot cheeks.               
                With one soft giggle, she made Jake sweat all over his best
                steely.
         And the things she did to him when she looked over his shoulder while
                he was playing "keepsies", well, they were just too horrible to mention.

Thanks to Lizzie, Jake’s precious bag of marbles was almost empty.  At this rate, they would never last to the fall.  What would he do at recess when 6th grade began?  And would Lizzie be on the same playground?

The very thought of it made Jake’s stomach turn as green as the apples swinging next to him. 

Then Lizzie walked by and looked up.  When had her eyes turned so blue?  Jake had never seen a marble that blue--not even his best puree.

The last page of summer slammed shut, leaving poor Jake pondering up-side down in a tree full of little green apples--bewitched and bewildered by the wee witch next door.