Pinch: Chapter 12

“So,” my uncle began, leaning back and crossing his legs. “I guess you heard Cordelia’s story.”

“Yeah, just this afternoon,” I replied.  “But it can’t be true, can it?”

“Of course it’s true!” he bellowed, causing Cindy to pop out from behind one of the shelves with a baleful glare in our direction.  “If it wasn’t true, do you think we would have been keeping such a close eye on you all these years?  Do you think your mother, idiot that she is, would have kept you away from us if it wasn’t true?  Do you think I would be here, alone, every single blasted day if I wasn’t hell-bent on keeping you away from that cursed swindler?”

I shook my head, startled into muteness by his sudden outburst.

“It’s true, every single word Cordelia told you is true,” he said, settling back into the cushions. “Now I’m going to tell you my story, every word of which is also true.”

He glared at me as he took a sip of coffee.

“My story begins a few years after Cordelia’s,” he began.  “I was newly married to a beautiful girl, my high school sweetheart Alice.  I worked as a custodian at the elementary school and she stayed home.  We wanted children right away, and we decided that she should focus on raising them rather than working outside the home.  We were young and healthy and couldn’t understand why three years went by without Alice getting pregnant.”

He paused to take another sip of coffee.

“We went to a couple doctors and both of us were tested.  I was fine, but something was wrong inside of Alice and she would never be able to carry a child.  We were devastated.”

He swiped a trembling hand down his face.

“Alice got depressed and started sleeping all day, sometimes staying in our bedroom for several days at a time.  My vibrant, beautiful wife was wasting away before my very eyes.”

He looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.

“I was desperate,” he whispered, “so I did what I had been forbidden to do my entire life.  I called on that demon from hell, Felix P. Willowtree.   He came to us that very day and within a month Alice was pregnant.”

“Pregnant!” I exclaimed, “How in the world!”

“Don’t interrupt!” he snapped.  “Yes, pregnant.  We were deliriously happy.”

He chuckled mirthlessly.

“If only we had known,” he trailed off, shaking his head.  “Nine months later Alice gave birth to a baby boy.  We named him Henry, after Alice’s late father.  It was an excruciating delivery.  Alice bled and bled, they couldn’t stop the bleeding!  Twenty minutes after Henry was born, Alice died.  Mr. Willowtree could help Alice get pregnant but apparently even he couldn’t fix what was wrong inside.”

He stopped to wipe his streaming eyes, then took a shuddering breath.

“I was sick with grief, but there was no time to mourn.  Henry needed me.  For the next 8 years Henry was my entire life.  I never remarried or dated.  We took care of each other.”

He clasped his hands, which were now trembling so badly his arms were beginning to strain, in his lap.  A sense of foreboding washed over me, and I wrapped my arms around my middle, terrified to hear the rest of the story.

“On Henry’s eighth birthday I took him to the lake.  We went fishing and swimming and ate junk food until I thought we would both be sick.”  He smiled thinly.  “It was a wonderful day and we ended it with a fire on the beach at sunset.  I was tired, so I lay back on our blanket, just to rest my eyes, I assured myself.  I fell asleep.  I don’t know how long I was asleep but when I woke up Henry was floating face down in the lake.”

I clapped my hands to my mouth and fought back tears.

“I let my son drown, I let my only link to Alice die, I brought this curse down on my family and I will never forgive myself for that!” he raged, standing up and pacing a few feet away.  “Felix P. Willowtree gave me exactly what I wanted, Hannah!  He gave me exactly what I asked for!  Do you see the danger?  His promises and his magic are conditional.  Yes he grants your wishes, yes he gives you what you are seeking, but at what cost?  At what cost?”

Pinch: Chapter 10

“Mr. Willowtree has been, well, I guess you could call him our family ghost,” she began, settling back into the couch.  “The stories go back generations, long before our family came to the States.”

I’m absolutely bursting with questions, but one look from Mrs. Crumpet, er, my aunt, and I quell the urge to interrupt.

“I’ll just tell you my story for now, as it would take hours to go through the old family records.”

She takes a sip of the tea that has been cooling on the coffee table between us, clears her throat and begins.

“It goes back to my dear, sweet Arnold shipping off to war.  As I said, he gave me Admiral Rumples to keep me company while he was away.  The Admiral and I fell in mutual love from minute one,” she explains, gazing over at the snoozing Admiral with fond adoration.  “He became my constant companion, even riding in my handbag when I would go out to run errands or pay a visit.  He was such a comfort to me, even when the worry about Arnold became almost unbearable.  That’s why I was so frightened when the Admiral got out one evening and was hit by a car.”

She stopped to sniffle into an embroidered handkerchief and wipe her teary eyes.

“I was desperate, you see,” she began, crumpling the handkerchief between her shaking hands.  “I knew the stories about Mr. Willowtree, I had been hearing them all my life!  Always the same warning; don’t call on him, no matter what!  Don’t let him in!  But nothing could get through my grief.  If the Admiral died I would be completely alone.  So I did what I had been warned against my entire life.  I called Felix P. Willowtree.”

She was quiet for a long moment, staring over my head with tears swimming in her eyes.

“I called Felix P. Willowtree,” she whispered, “and everything changed.”