Witch

Chapter Three

We walk out of the side door (not through the shop) and into a small grassy yard.  The grass is soft under my stockinged feet and tickles my toes.  Skating between our house and our neighbor's, Old Opal's, house, we end up on the side walk.  The Abbey is much more lively than it was in the morning with little ones running around the street and sitting on the sidewalk.  Older witches chatter in groups and smile at each other.  Witches my age show off new bracelets or charms.  I make a mental note to hold my head high while I wear my new dress.  The day got warmer. 

"Shall we go pray before the party?"  Mother says.

"Most definitely," Auntie replies.  "I can feel myself getting weaker."

We arrive to the fountain, which is many times busier than it was when I prayed this morning.  My aunt leads the prayer, her age exceeding my mother and I.  My mother is 26 years old, my aunt is 50.  When a witch is the Southern Abbey turns thirteen years old, she is allowed to brew a birth-potion, which she can edit the ingredients any way she wants.  My grandmother made my aunt when she was thirteen, but my mom was born much later. 

My birth was beautiful.  Every witch remembers their birth with great vividness and clarity, it’s a great part of our religion.  I remember being a part of every ingredient.  I was the first leaf from a newly planted tree, and some chili flake from a 30 year old bottle, and a fresh baked loaf of bread.  Most importantly, I was the water from the fountain I pray at today.  All of the witches' origins are from the Altar.  The very same water flowed through the fountain that Nemiri's land is home to.  Every so often, she pours some of the fountain water into a big lake outside the Abbey, and few witches go to collect the water.  They enchant it to flow through our own fountain.

After our prayer, we gather our things and continue down the road. "Where are we going?  What place?"  I scan the dark, stone buildings with steep roofs for any sign of a birthday party.  Nothing.

"You'll see," They say and chuckle.

"Fresh ingredients for any potion!"  A small witch stands at a cart which is covered in leaves, herbs, and odds  and ends.   "Big name shops can't beat my prices!" Her voice strains a bit.  No on stands at her cart. 

"She looks sad," I say to Mother.  "How come we have so many people come to our shop, but there isn't any people at her cart, even if it is the busiest time of the day?"

"People like us because we're from here darling," Auntie replies.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, that witch is from the Eastern Abbey.  See how her dress is plain black and her hat points straight up?"

"Yes, I reply," It was true.  The Southern Witch's Abbey is truly colorful place.  And our hats flop down behind our heads.  "But what is an eastern witch doing here?"

"Looking for business.  Looking for money." Mother tells me.

"Do we have a lot of money?  Because we have a lot of people over to our shop all of the time."

The two women look at each other an laugh.  They look at me and smile again.

"Why, what's so funny?"  I demand.  "Is there a bug on me?" I smooth down my dress.

"No, sweetie,"  Mother rakes a stray piece of hair behind my ear.  "We don't have a lot of money.  We have enough to take care of each other, but we can still have treats every now again."

"Oh,"  I let the topic drop.  I had never owned any money.  Whatever I made selling, I gave to my mother.  Whatever I needed or wanted to buy, Mother gave me the money.  In truth, I had never truly owned any coin.