Witch Season: Book 1

Chapter 1

It rained frogs and crickets. Stripes of water emanated amber flashes of light before disappearing in the dark. One after another, they chased, rushed, and threatened to nibble at the next droplet's tail. Bloop, bloop, gurgled fresh puddle formations. Klock, klock went heels, boots, and shoelaces. Wendy listened to this melodic cacophony, accommodated by the greatest soprano she ever knew - her dog Juicy.

Juicy howled a pug's song as he sped towards the post office with his tiny paws. Wendy ran after him, jumping over cobblestones and water formations. It was a game they played on their way to work. The premise was simple - have fun and don't be late. Wendy was punctual and didn't like making Jimmy wait, while Juicy enjoyed treats that were hidden in the top left corner of Jimmy's shirt.

***

The daytime shift was now over. Jimmy punched out his card in the rusty chicken-shaped machine and punched in Wendy's card. Even though the girl wasn't there yet. Then he walked downstairs and propped the main door, letting in the humid smell of the night's air. The rain seemed to have ended. He reached into his pocket and got out a star shaped snack. He toyed with it between his fingers and leaned against the door. The street was lit yellow and dark shape of a small dog popped out from behind a corner. A limping shadow followed it.

"Hey, Juicy!" Jimmy extended his right hand and fed the dog its beloved delicacy. "Hey, there lady. What happened to you?"
Wendy, her right stalking torn, knee scratched, waved her boot at Jimmy. Threatening the lad.
"Just look what happened. I broke my boot's heel."
He looked at her and then at his wrist watch. "Pretty bad timing, eh?"
"The worst. Where will I find a shoe-fixer this hour of the night?"
"Probably on the other side of the world. Somewhere in Khol or the Outskirts."
"Well, aren't you a smart one Jimmy." She softly hit him with her boot.
"Sorry W, no harm meant."
"None taken." Wendy shook her head and smiled.
"Anyway, little lady, I punched in for you."
"You're a darling." Wendy leaned in and gave Jimmy a big hug. Jimmy turned rosy and blurted out, "Erm. I have to go now. Bye Wendy!"
"Bye, Jimmy!" She smiled and then turned very serious, "Sorry for keeping you late."
"No bother. See you tomorrow." He waved and turned to the pup, "Bye Juicy!"
Juicy didn't reply back, he was chewing on his own tail in utter concentration.

And so Jimmy left, and a girl with her dog started their night shift.

It was very rare for the post office to work night hours. Yet, on the first night of the witch season it was considered bad omen not to. Most residents of Brick Corners believed an old legend, that an old hag will come and steal all your mail on the first night when the first leaf turns rotten. So, somebody had to keep watch on town's precious parcels and letters, while everyone else was asleep.

Wendy found this tradition both inspiring and ironic. Inspiring, because she dreamt of becoming a witch since she was wee tall. In her mind, there was nothing more thrilling than meeting that make-believe old hag who would hand Wendy her very own witch certificate and license. Wendy has been volunteering to work nights at the Post ever since she joined. Irony had it that today was Wendy's thieving anniversary. She's been stealing mail for an entire year.

It all started exactly one year ago. It was daytime and no rain cloud in sight. Bright and warm, light filled Wendy's work desk as she sorted through the incoming mail. Jimmy was on the second floor, in charge of the outbound messages. He got this job just recently, a mysterious uncle of a brother of a someone just handed it to him. Wendy, however, had to go through five interviews before she got her gig. When the new lad joined, a rivalry was inevitable. Separated by one flight of stairs, the void between the two was filled with tension that sizzled and sparked.

One after another, she stamped on a red-inked "received" onto parcels and a green "delivered with haste" onto letters. It was a dull procedure, followed by checking recipients' addresses in the dusty old records, and then sending snails to deliver a message that mail is ready for pick up.

All parcels were wrapped in the same faded blue paper, while envelopes ranged in size, were always signed in a similar neat handwriting of someone who tried too hard. It was a bore, and yet it paid for Wendy's squid hair dye and treats for her dog. Juicy had very expensive taste when it came to food.

"Stamp, stomp. Stamp, stomp." Wendy rhymed under her breath. Making the process slightly entertaining. She went on, "Stamp, stomp. Stamp, stomp. Stomp?" Wendy raised an eyebrow, she almost stamped something very peculiar. Right in front of her laid a dark brown parcel wrapped with orange ribbon. "What is this?", she wondered. Something was written on it. Wendy leaned in close, turning the parcel as she read, she barely made out the squiggly and horribly shaky writing that spelled "Stop being a child. Open your mail. This is last warning. Witch society." Witch what? Witch Society! Went inside Wendy's mind as she let out a loud yelp.

Jimmy wondered for a second if he should come down to see that his colleague was okay. After long reflection, of half a second, he decided against it.

Of course, that parcel was not addressed to Wendy. And yet, it did not matter. Wrapping came off that box immediately. Fingers trembled, heart raced, and eyes fixated on the contents. It was straw pieces, animal woodcuts, pie recipes, and a hat decal. Oh, how Wendy longed for her very own hat. She spent hours window shopping by "Pop's Hats and Accessories", where most delicate and fascinating chapeaus ranged between two years salary and eternity of working.

Within minutes Wendy sported a self-made dark brown pointy hat, adorned with an orange ribbon. That wrapping definitely did not go to waste. Wendy beamed as she stamped on "received" and "delivered with haste" messages. From this day onward life was that much more vibrant and interesting.

More and more parcels kept on arriving. All with gloom warnings and most beautiful wrapping. Wendy kept each and every one of them. Shortly after Wendy picked up knitting, jam making and spell practicing. One day she brought in a tub of chilli citrus marmalade to work, which settled the rivalry between her and Jimmy; for a short while, anyway.

And today no parcel came for Wendy to steal and claim as her own. Today, it was something else entirely.