a long black dress that reached the sidewalk and had a black scarf wrapped around her neck. Like Walt’s gloves, she wore that scarf no matter what the
weather. Beside her stood a three-legged dog.
Mrs. Elizabeth Clevenger.
But where had she come from? Jack was sure she hadn’t been in sight when he’d come over here. How—?
“Damn you!” Teddy shouted.
He took a step toward her but stopped when the dog bared its teeth and growled. A thick-bodied, big-jawed, floppy-eared mutt—Jack thought he
detected some Lab and some rottweiler along with miscel aneous other breeds—it seemed al muscle under its short, mud-brown coat. He’d seen it lots
of times; the missing leg didn’t slow it down at al .
“That dog bites me my dad’l sue you for every penny you’ve got.”
“If I let him at you it won’t be for a bite—he’l have you for lunch. Al of you.”
One look at the dog’s cold eyes and big jaws and Jack believed her. So did Teddy, apparently, because he backed off.
Jack felt his heartbeat slowing but his hands felt cold, sweaty, shaky. He’d been awful close to getting his face rearranged. Too close.
“Bitch!” Teddy said.
“Don’t you dare speak to your mother like that!”
“You ain’t my mother!”
“Sadly, I am. But only because I cannot pick and choose my children. Now be gone.” She brandished her cane. “Off before I cast a spel on you!”
That seemed to do it. Teddy jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and started to move away.
“C’mon, Joey. Let’s go,” Teddy said to his friend.
“Wait,” Joey said, his eyes wide with disbelief. “‘Cast a spel on you’? Is she kidding?”
“Shut up, Joey. You don’t know nothin’.”
The two of them walked off, arguing, Teddy looking over his shoulder from time to time.
Clearly Joey wasn’t from Johnson. Otherwise he’d have known that old Mrs. Clevenger was a witch.
5
“Are you al right, Walter?” Mrs. Clevenger said, rubbing her hand along his upper arm.
He nodded. “Yeah. They just pushed me around some. I’ve been through worse.”
“I know,” she said. “Much worse.” Then she turned to Weezy. “That was a brave thing you did, child.”
“Not so brave.” She seemed to have trouble meeting Mrs. Clevenger’s eyes. “I was scared half to death.”
“The brave are always scared.” She turned to Jack. “I know why she helped Walter—he’s her friend. But why did you?”
Jack figured the reason was obvious. “Because she’s
The old woman gave him a long stare, her green eyes boring into his, then nodded. “Friendship … there is nothing better, is there?”
“Nothing,” Weezy said, beaming at Jack.
The lady said, “Walter is
ground where you found it.”
Jack spun and stared at Weezy’s bike. Only a little bit of the towel wrapping the box was visible in the basket, nothing more.
Weezy’s mouth dropped open. “H-how do you know about that?” Her brow furrowed. “Did Mister Rosen —?”
Mrs. Clevenger smiled, which added more lines to her already wrinkled face. “I know more than I should and less than I’d like to.” The smile
disappeared. “But hear me wel . That thing is an il wind that wil blow nobody good. It was hidden from the light of day for good reason. Return it to its
resting place.” With that she started to turn away. “Besides, you wil never get it open.”
“But we did,” Weezy said.
Mrs. Clevenger’s turn came to an abrupt halt, then she swiveled back to fix Weezy with her stare.
Weezy looked flustered. “Wel , not ‘we,’ real y. Just Jack. He’s the only one who can do it.”
She turned her gaze on him. “Not such a surprise, I suppose. But that does not change anything. Put it back where it belongs.”
