The Adventures of Zelda Miggins the Witch and Her Magick Black Cat

Everyone in the little village of Magic Creek knew of the witch that lived in a cottage at the edge of town. Zelda
Miggings lived there for generations, was rarely seen by the villagers and, anyone that did catch a glimpse of the witch always said the same thing; "she never seemed to age at all". Nobody in the village can remember exactly when Zelda came to live in Magic Creek not even Mr Fox, the oldest man who is 95 years of age. The villagers kept away from the witch and Zelda stayed in her lovely cottage Spellwick.

Zelda did not mind living alone in her little cottage Spellwick which nestled below a vast mountain with a lake at her doorstep. She loved it and spent most of her day in her garden which had every colour plant, shrub and herb that you can imagine flowering, which she tended with love. Inside her cottage she always had lots of coloured flowers in vases and the smell of her cooking wafted down into the village at times reminding people that Zelda was still living in Spellwick Cottage.

　

"Shoo!", Jean flapped her hands towards at the ugly black cat that had beenstaring like a sphinx into her kitchen window. It was the same cat often seen in the local village sitting up high on the ancient oak tree watching everyone go by. Everyone knew the old scraggly cat and sometimes the local stores left little scraps out for it.

The cat sat looking at her for over an hour, without moving a single whisker and it was getting on her nerves.

"Shooo, clear off!" Jean yelled. This time the black cat scrambled under a tree. Satisfied that the cat had gone, she returned indoors to prepare dinerfor her daughter Sara, who was due home from school very soon.

　"There's that old black straggly cat sitting on the window," called Sarah as she walked towards the door. Jean sniffed. "I know I have just run it away, the smelly old thing."

　"Mum!", Sara reproached. "She looks half starved. I think she must have smelt your dinner cooking, the poor little thing."

　"Well, it won't get anything from me, I hate cats," Jean snapped back.

"You never hated cats when Dad was alive. These days you don't seem to like anything or anybody."

　"What do you mean, you naughty girl?" retaliated Jean, bristling with indignation.

"Since Dad died, you just don't seem to want to move on with your life." Sara tried to explain.

　"Just because I still miss your Dad doesn't mean I've got to start liking stupid cats, so don't talk such garbage." Jean slammed the plates down onto the table, spilling some of the dinner onto the table. "Now look at what you made me do".

The meal passed in complete silence, each one feeling there was a lot more to be said but well aware that it would only end up with an argument.

Jean was annoyed when she saw her daughter sneaking leftovers out to the scraggly cat.

"She not even a nice-looking cat," she thought, as she watched her gulping down the food. She was a jet black color with silvery patches on her face which made her look like a wise old woman.

The next morning the cat was there again. When Sara looked out of the window, her mouth opened in a silent mew. "Good morning, want some breakfast?".

Her mother grumbled. "I have enough to do to make ends meet without feeding every stray that comes into our garden".

"Don't be so mean, Mum, a bit of scraps is not going to break the bank".

Jean shouted, "Watch my lips, I do not want that cat around here and especially around me. Which part of this do you not understand young lady?."

"Listen to yourself, going mental over a little bit of leftovers. You never did that when Dad was alive. You have become an old misery."

Jean stormed off upstairs to sulk and Sara sighed. It had been four years since her dad died and her mum had still not recovered from the loss. She neglected herself, had no friends and refused to find a part-time job or to leave the house.

That evening Sara stopped to buy her Mother some flowers. She also bought a cat food with the money she had been saving for Christmas. When she arrived home she spotted the cat sitting on the patio table, gazing through the window.

Such a strange cat. Bright green emerald eyes that seemed to be reaching out the Sara in comfort. "Better not let Mum see you", she smiled.

"Sara, are you feeding that ugly cat again?", Jean yelled. "What did I tell you about .....".

Sara stopped her Mum in her tracks. "Mum, listen to yourself! Dad would be so angry if he could see you now. You are wasting away in bitterness." Sara ran to her room crying.

　"Well, if you don't like it Madam, then you can leave too", her Mother shouted up the stairs at her. Sara was horrified. She packed her bag and made it to her Auntie Evie's house sobbing her little heart out.

Jean let her go and returned back to the Kitchen. The sound of wind banging the old fence outside told her that there was a storm on the way. Large blobs of rain fell and she dragged herself up and went outside to shut the old garage door. The cat was sitting in the tree with the wind ruffling its fur. "Clear off!", Jean shouted at the little creature.

Jean struggled with the garage door, but the wind took hold and whipped it against her with a crash and Jean fell heavily to the ground. She lay there motionless, the rain drenched her through and as she tried to call out the wind snatched away her cries.

Jean lay helpless on the ground, her mind churning over. Was she as bitter and twisted as Sara said? Was she wallowing in self-pity? The last thing she saw before she passed out was the ugly black cat sitting beside her.

When Jean regained consciousness, she lay in a hospital bed. Sara was sitting next to her holding her hand. "Hello, you old fool," Sara smiled. "You really worried me Mum I did not think you were ever going to wake up".

"How did I get here", Jean asked.

"That ugly old cat you hate so much saved your life because she howled the entire evening until one of our neighbours was so fed up with the noise went out to chuck a bucket of water over her and then he saw you lying in the middle of the garden. They called for an ambulance immediately."

Jean had the grace to laugh. She stroked Sara's hand and told her that she had done a lot of thinking while in the garden and she realized how lucky she is. "Things are going to change from now on", she promised.

　One night when Jean lay awake she recalled the night in the garden when she started to drift into unconsciousness. She remembered the last thing she saw was the black cat sitting beside her in the rain. She remembered summoning all of her energy to whisper: "I'm so sorry, please help me".

Jean may have imagined it but she could still see the cat sitting there, staring at her with those emerald green eyes, before opening her mouth in a soundless mew and saying "but of course I will". The black cat was, in fact, the witch Zelda Miggins and it was her duty to mind the village people of Magick Creek.

That evening after causing such a stir to get the neighbours to call for an ambulance and when Jean was safely on her way to the hospital, the black cat went home, transformed back into Zelda the witch and dried her cloths by the fire. Another great day's work. Harm ye none.

Rochelle Moore-author