“ElsBeth, you come from a long line of accomplished witches. We’ve talked about this before, but as a witch you have certain duties. You know we are responsible to see that the villagers and the animals and the plants are looked after, that the weather is kept somewhat under control, and that the magical creatures in our area are safeguarded. Those are our most important duties.”
“Yes, Grandmother,” ElsBeth replied earnestly.
“Well, ElsBeth, I know you are hoping to go to Boston. This is difficult for me to explain, but there hasn’t been a respectable witch in Boston for over two hundred years.
“There are all kinds of troubled ghosts, ghouls, goblins and restless spirits there. The city is really out of control — magically speaking.
“No one really knows why, but even the most skilled witches can’t seem to stand more than a day in the city before they just go mad.
“In fact, that’s why all the Boston witches moved back to Salem. It’s a mystery no one’s been able to solve. And believe me, many of us have tried over the years.
“Now, I know you have your heart set on going with the class on this field trip. And I know you’d only be in the city itself for a few hours. But I’m concerned.
“What with the fairy situation, and the recent storms here on the Cape, and … well … everything else, I have my hands full right now. I just don’t think I can be worrying about you in Boston, too.”
ElsBeth was crushed. Did this mean Grandmother would not sign the permission slip?
Then suddenly her grandmother stopped speaking and looked muddled again.
And, happily for ElsBeth, no more was said about the subject that night.
But later in her little captain’s bed, snug in her pink bat pajamas, ElsBeth was, for the first time in her life, upset with her grandmother.
How could she even imagine not letting me go on this trip? ElsBeth began thinking up arguments she could use to change her elder’s mind. ElsBeth had to get her grandmother to stop worrying. She could handle the trip. She just knew it.
ElsBeth glanced out the window at the clouds that were passing in front of the moon. She saw Professor Badinoff fly by, his wide wings creating an inky shadow that chased over the ground. She wanted to discuss this difficult situation with her friend and teacher.
“Professor!” she called out. But he was too far away.
ElsBeth’s mind went round and round on the sticky problem.
“What should I do?” she whispered over and over again, as she fell into a restless slumber.
Chapter 7
Sylvanas “Helps Out”
“I’m wearing my lime green capri pants with my purple hoodie, and I’ve got this great new backpack with tons of pockets. And my mother is letting me wear the latest sea-glass necklace she created for her new jewelry line!”
Admiring girls crowded around Veronica in the schoolyard.
Veronica loved to plan out what to wear. But ElsBeth didn’t really want to hear about Veronica’s outfit for the Boston field trip, particularly when she wasn’t even sure she’d be allowed to go.
Her mind drifted, imagining everyone going — Robert Hillman-Jones, Johnny Twofeathers, Nelson, Amy — all the kids. Even the Nye twins, who were being home schooled, were going to go.
Out of the corner of her eye, ElsBeth thought she saw a face disappear behind the apple tree in the back of the school playground.
She started toward it to investigate. She could hear a rustling noise behind the tree as she got near. And the air smelled funny, like it does after a summer thunderstorm.
She got closer, and felt cold, and began to feel afraid. Then … the bell rang.
All the second-graders exploded toward the door. No one ever took a chance on being late to Ms. Finch’s roll call — ever. ElsBeth had to go, but who … or what … was behind the tree?
NATIVE AMERICAN HISTORY LESSON
The last class period was history, one of ElsBeth’s favorite subjects. And today they were learning about Native American tribes in New England.
The Algonquins, the Iroquois, the Nipmucs, the Abenakis and the Wampanoags, to name a few. Johnny Twofeathers was essentially Wampanoag royalty, though you’d never know it.
He wasn’t stuck up or anything. In fact, he seemed embarrassed today. Perhaps it was because Ms. Finch kept calling the Native Americans “savages.” And each time she said the word she glanced over at Johnny, as if she expected him to protest. ElsBeth thought Ms. Finch was trying to get Johnny to lose his temper.
What Ms. Finch didn’t understand was that Johnny never lost his temper. He was the least likely to ever get deserved punishment.
It wasn’t that he was a goody two-shoes like Robert Hillman-Jones tried to be sometimes. Johnny was just a truly good person. ElsBeth counted herself lucky to have such a friend.
She started thinking about all the different Native Americans she knew, daydreaming again.
Ms. Finch interrupted ElsBeth’s thoughts with a sharp rap of her wooden pointer on the blackboard.
It appeared that many of the students had drifted off while the teacher had gone on and on about the least interesting aspects of Native American culture — which was a hard thing to do, since Native American culture is actually completely fascinating. Luckily ElsBeth wasn’t caught out for daydreaming, this time.
In fact, it turned out that Ms. Finch had moved onto an entirely different subject.
“I need all your permission slips for the trip to Boston. Please hand them forward.”
Oh, no. ElsBeth had totally forgotten they were due today. She hadn’t even had another chance to talk to Grandmother about going.
She looked around self-consciously. Everyone seemed to be pulling a note from his or her lunch box or backpack. Everyone except Robert Hillman-Jones. Was it possible his parents didn’t want him to go, either?
Hillman-Jones raised his hand, smiling brightly at Ms. Finch. The Finch’s face seemed to crack as a small smile broke through her frown lines. “Yes, Robert?”
“My father is in New York this week and my mother is in L.A, so I don’t have a note. My father said he would call the principal this evening and give their OK for me to go.”
Ms. Finch’s face almost cracked again, but not with a smile this time. Robert was, hands down, her favorite, but the crabby teacher hated any, that is any, deviation from the rules.
“Permission slips are required, Robert.” She turned her back on the shocked student and faced the blackboard.
Hillman-Jones had rarely been refused anything in his short, expensive life. For once he was speechless.
“Now children, pass in the slips!” Ms. Finch also hated repeating herself.
They hurried to follow her directions before some sort of Finch-eruption took place.
Nelson Hamm dropped his slip several times. Ms. Finch always got to Nelson. His ears were practically neon red right now. He finally got it together and passed his slip forward.
Veronica whispered, “ElsBeth, where is your note?”
Before ElsBeth could answer, the shifty black cat suddenly appeared again on the windowsill. He grinned. ElsBeth dared to hope.
And just as suddenly, Mr. North Wind burst in the open window and through the classroom, creating mini whirlpools