No witch ever knew ahead of time where the Consort meeting of the Southeastern Witches Association would be held, not until the letter arrived revealing the location. This was a holdover tradition from the days gone by when witches had to exist in secret to escape danger from regulars that didn’t understand their ways. In the current era, keeping private wasn’t so important anymore, but the tradition had been set and no one knew where they’d be expected to meet until the mail brought them the invitation. Much like a convention would arrange things, the Witches Association met at various locations in their district four times a year. Though no meeting was considered mandatory, it was strongly suggested over the years that the Autumn meeting should not be missed by any coven leader. Coven members could attend, or not attend meetings at their own convenience, but coven leaders usually came to as many Consorts as they could. Olympia, as head of the Blanchard coven, was the only witch in her brood who usually attended meetings, although sometimes Artemis and Demitra would attend an occasional Consort. Salem, however, was required to attend this Summer meeting of the Witches Association because she was the witch with business on the agenda…the cremation of her child.
“I am not going!” Salem bellowed when she looked at the letter from the Consort.
“Yes, Child, you are,” Olympia said decidedly.
“No, I will not go to the home of those people.”
Olympia could hardly blame her, but Salem was allowing her emotions to cloud her better judgement. It unfortunately mattered very little how difficult this particular meeting—this particular location—would be, Salem had no choice but to attend because Michael’s remains had to be disposed of in the proper ways.
“We will just cremate Michael here,” Salem suggested. “I don’t want the others involved anyway. Especially there!”
“Salem,” started Olympia, “Michael will be given the ceremony all witches are given. The ceremony all Blanchards have been given. And he will be given it by the Council. Our family has been a member of the Consort for one hundred and eighty-six years. We are not about to start going it alone now. You never know when you’ll need the help of others.”
“But Hecate, I don’t want to see them.”
“I know you don’t. I don’t especially want to see them either, but we are just as much a part of the Witches Association as they or anyone else.”
“But they hate me!” Salem cried. “They hate all of us.”
Olympia smiled reassuringly at her granddaughter and said, “You must remember Salem, that it was the Consort as a whole that brought down the verdict on your mother, not just the Obreiggons.”
“Is he going to be there?”
“I rarely see him at any of the meetings. Atheidrelle heads their family coven. She is usually alone.”
“But the summer meeting will be at their home. He’s bound to be there.”
“Oleander is a big place. Even larger than our property. I assure you if he wants to be invisible, he can be.”
The laughter and loud jabbering of Fable, Yasmine, and Seth filled the third floor and reached down the stairs to Beryl’s bedroom on the second floor. She was trying to nap from a long day at the hospital. Their voices were so loud that she had to get up to close her bedroom’s door.
They were in the little den on the third floor which Grandfather Sinclair designated during his time at Blanchard House to be the kids’ den. Since most of the children had their bedrooms on the third floor, he felt they might just as well stay up there for their roughhousing and hijinks. As the years passed, the kids’ den became more of a television watching room than anything else. Seth, Yasmine, and Fable were watching old reruns on T.V. and laughing hysterically at an episode of The Andy Griffith Show when Barney Fife had made a jack-ass out of himself.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Ya’ll ever notice how mean Andy treated Opie once the show started airing in color?” Fable asked during a commercial.
“Not just Opie, but the whole town,” Yasmine pointed out. “When it was black and white, he was like, oh what a charming town with all these wonderful, zany citizens, but the second it aired in color he was just over it.”
“Frasier did that too,” Seth noted. “Like around the time Niles and Daphne fell in love, Frasier acted a little more put out with everyone—especially his Dad.”
"I got one,” Fable declared. “Remember how on I Love Lucy, Lucy’s maiden name was McGillicuddy? Then when they went to Europe and were going to Scotland, Lucy wanted to look up her mother’s family, the McGillicuddys.”
“So?” Seth replied.
“Well, if Lucy’s mother’s family were the McGillicuddys and Lucy’s maiden name was McGillicuddy, then Lucy was illegitimate.”
“Oh my God, I never thought of that!” Yasmine exclaimed.
“Lucy was not illegitimate!” Seth said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Hell, I am! But they wouldn’t have put that on television back in the 50’s. They couldn’t even use the word pregnant when she was pregnant on the show.”
“Then explain how McGillicuddy is her maiden name and her mother’s family’s name, and they never once mention Lucy’s father.”
“We watch way too much TV,” decided Seth.
“Hey, let’s go pull Beryl out of bed and throw her in the pool!” Yasmine suggested.
“Yes!” Fabled gasped. “We haven’t done anything like that in ages. She will be livid!”
“Yeah, we usually did that to Yazzy anyway,” Seth reminded. “It’ll be funny to do it to Beryl.”
The three of them sneaked downstairs as quietly as possible. Fable and Yasmine giggled as they went. They all remembered to step over the squeaky fifth tread on the stair—the one which was always the reason they got caught sneaking in late as teenagers. When they reached the second-floor hallway they walked very slowly—single file--until they reached Beryl’s door. Opening it ever so gently so that the natural creak of the wood was not quite so audible, Seth entered first, followed by Yasmine, then Fable. They could see Beryl’s form laying under the quilted bedspread. All at once they leapt atop her and pinned her down. Seth tossed back the covers and jolted back. It was only pillows! Laughter rang out behind them, laughter from Salem and Beryl in the doorway. Suddenly the devious trio were lifted into the air as Salem raised her hands.
“Salem stop it!” Fable pleaded. “It was just a prank.”
“I know,” Salem grinned, Beryl’s arm around her shoulder in camaraderie. “So is this.”
“Come on, Sis!” Seth cried. “Put us down.”
“Oh, she will,” Beryl grinned.
Downstairs, Artemis and Demitra were sitting in the living room reading the afternoon paper when Beryl and Salem came down the foyer stairs backwards, Salem’s arms still mid-air with the trio of pranksters hovering above the staircase, still caught in her trap.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” Artemis called out. “Don’t be long.”
“They’re all crazy, you know,” Demitra told her sister, barely looking up from her section of the paper.
Outside now, Salem held her focus on her brother and two cousins as she slowly backed her way across the lawn to the pool area. Seth, Fable, and Yasmine were still screaming for her to stop as she levitated them directly over the cool clear water of the swimming pool and released them. The collective splash reached all the way to the potted shrubs on the tiled pool deck.
Beryl and Salem stood laughing at the sight of the three fools swimming back to the side of the pool. Suddenly the wind kicked up. The treetops were bending in the breeze. The pool chairs began to slide around from the force.
“Seth, are you doing this?” Fable asked as she gripped her cousin’s shoulder with one hand and clung to the pool deck with the other.
“It’s not me,” he said.
The wind was really kicking up harder now. All of the sudden, Beryl and Salem were sent toppling into the pool themselves, drenched from head to toe. They looked around in disbelief, as did Seth, Fable, and Yasmine who now clung to the pool’s edge as the wind slapped water into their faces. Artemis and Demitra stood on the lawn several yards away, laughing themselves now at the sight of the prank they had just pulled.
“The Aunts!” Salem shouted.
Demitra wrapped her own arm around her sister’s shoulder and replied, “Now that is funny.”
