Gwen Doh Lynn

5: Growing Powers

Hazel came to my house every day after school the rest of that week, and the following week, too.

We called it "Magic Practice." She showed me how she could make leaves spin and flutter in the air, and how she could make a ribbon wiggle and dance, which made Cat very happy. But mostly we focused on me and my magic because she insisted on helping me "grow my powers."

Once, I moved a paper ball a few inches across the floor. Another time a little puff of smoke rose from it when I was trying to set it on fire. I freaked out and dumped the whole bottle of water on it. It splashed all over Cat and he didn't speak to me for the rest of the night.

Still, I felt like I wasn't making much progress.

It was one of those times when I was complaining about how slooooow my progress was, that Hazel said, "Maybe we should look for Esmerelda May's lost grimoire." She was lying on my bed, tossing a paper ball up at the ceiling and catching it.

"Grim-what?"

She stopped and rolled over onto her stomach. "Grimoire." It kind of sounded like grim-wahr. "It's a witch's secret magical book, where she writes down notes and spells, like a journal. Supposedly, Esmerelda had kept one for years, but when she died, no one found it. Some people say she hid it away in some secret place in her house."

"This house," I exclaimed and Hazel nodded.

Cat's ears perked up, but he didn't say anything.

"Why didn't you say anything about it before?" Cat rolled over on the rug and I rubbed his belly.

Hazel shrugged. "Well, it's just a story, but... now I'm thinking, what if it's true? We could find it and it could totally help us with our magic. Both of us!"

After asking my mom about old stuff in the house, we spent the rest of the afternoon, up on the third floor in one of the "tower rooms," rummaging through a couple of dusty wooden trunks. There were some broken badminton rackets, a bunch of moth-eaten sweaters and even a pair of homemade paper mache maracas. Hazel was especially thrilled to find a mostly furless mouse skeleton. But there was no grimoire.

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Between practicing witchcraft and searching for Esmeralda May's lost grimoire, Hazel and I had a lot of time to talk. I found out she was super smart and really into science and history. She told me her secrets, like how she was afraid of fish ("their bulging eyes creep me out") and about the time in second grade when she set free all the butterflies the class was raising for a science project and blamed it on the janitor.

I didn't tell her about my problems at my old school, or about having a therapist, but I did admit it was hard for me when my parents got divorced and my dad moved to Honolulu. And that sometimes I felt like I'd rather sit alone and write in my journal than talk to other people. Hazel didn't ask questions, and I appreciated that.

As the days went by, I found myself worrying less and less about fitting in at school. In fact, school seemed normal—and kind of boring, to be honest. Sure, two popular girls didn't like me, but so what, right? I had magic (at least a little), I had a best friend and a talking cat, and I lived in a real-life witch's cool old house!

The next Monday morning, Hazel was beside herself with excitement. "Guess what?" she squealed. I figured she'd found a really cool bug or something. So she surprised me when she said, "They're announcing the essay contest today!"

That didn't sound like something to get excited about. "Um... okaaaay..."

She ignored my lack of enthusiasm and dragged me down the hallway to our classroom. Natalia and Elspeth were at their lockers. Elspeth rolled her eyes at us.