The Cauldron
Deitrich called her a witch, but Mathilda knew nothing of spells and magick.
He pointed out many things in her home that defied her denials.
“You have a homemade broomstick,” he said with a smirk.
“It’s a besom,” Mathilda corrected.
“You’re a witch,” Deitrich declared.
Mathilda asked him for help to bring an antique cauldron from the garage to the front yard.
“They make plastic cauldrons,” Deitrich complained again about the weight of the vessel.
Mathilda again explained that the big cast iron vessel was given to her by her grandmother. She performed a ritual scrubbing the pot with salt and burning herbs to cleanse the air surrounding her home. She tore apart words on scraps of paper and tossed wishes for the coming year into the flames.
Deitrich sat on the porch watching her movements, “You don’t think any of that is witchy?”
Mathilda smiled and walked toward her truck. “It’s just halloween stuff,” she said while carrying mums across the driveway to the cauldron. “Traditions my grandma used to-”
“Your grandma’s a witch too,” Deitrich said while helping Mathilda carry bags of soil to replant the pots of flowers.
Mathilda sat on her porch with a cup of hot spiced cider. Her neighbor Margaret walked by with her dog Gretal. The wind howled just as Margaret approached the cauldron of mums. Margaret waved and Gretal growled. The dog lowered her head and dug her front paws into the grass on the edge of the lawn.
A screech from within the mums startled Margaret and she lost hold of Gretel’s leash. Mathilda’s cat pounced on Gretel and she chased the cat onto the porch.
“I’m so sorry,” Margaret apologized.
“It’s okay. I didn’t know Shadow was in the flower pot.” Mathilda picked up her cat and tossed her into the house..
Margaret got ahold of the dog leash again and walked across the lawn. Again, the wind howled and Gretel stopped to growl at the cauldron. “Stop it. There’s nothing there.”
Mathilda hung purple and green lights around her porch. She dressed the spindles of the fences with garlands of fall leaves. Her back was toward the street when a neighbor called out, “Your mums are beautiful!”
Mathilda turned her head to find her neighbor Aiden bent over the cauldron drawing in the scent.
“My mums don’t have any fragrance. Yours smell so good.”
Mathilda thought of her grandmother’s ritual. The sage, honeysuckle, and mint burned beneath the soil emitted the unique scent.
Again, the wind howled Mathilda walked toward Aiden, prepared to share her secret; but, as she approached, a mist floated into the air above Aiden’s head and was pulled into the cauldron. She recoiled and kept her distance. “I just bought them from Hayden’s Garden Center.”
Aiden turned to Mathilda. His eyes turned completely black and then returned to hazel irises and white corneas. “I got mine from Hayden’s too.” The color washed from his skin. The streetlight near the driveway flickered. Mathilda moved backward toward her porch as Aiden walked away humming in tune with the howling wind.
Mathilda watched the cauldron from her porch. Shadow jumped into her lap and mewed until she was petted affectionately.
Deitrich came to sit alongside Mathlida on the porch. He said quietly, “Aiden called to ask how you made the mums so appealing.”
“He stood out there smelling them,” Mathilda said.
“I told him you’re a witch,” Deitrich said with a laugh.
“I think he-” Mathilda tried to find words to describe what she saw earlier. “I think he went into the cauldron.”
“What do you mean? He sat on your flowers?”
Mathilda shook her head in negation. “I think I saw his soul fall in.”
“Well,” Deitrich reasoned, “He was on the phone. Pretty sure he called from his home. Not the flower pot.”
“My grandma warned me,” Mathilda said. “A witch stirs the souls in a cauldron to keep their spirits active while waiting for reentry into the world.”
“What do you mean, reentry?”
“Like reincarnation. The older the soul, the deeper they sink. Witches of the Watch continually stir so wizened souls balance immaturity and ignorance.” Shadow growled on Mathilda’s lap. She hadn’t realized she was squeezing the cat harder with each word spinning in her thoughts. “If Aiden’s soul was taken into the cauldron,” Mathilda surmised, “his body is walking around rotting.”
“He just wants to know about the mums,” Dietrich said. “I didn’t say you were a witch,” he confessed. “I told him you burn herbs in the flower pot and they must smell like whatever you burned.”
Mathilda knocked on Aiden’s door with a bowlful of dried sage, honeysuckle, and mint.
She forced a cough when Aiden leaned in for a neighborly kiss on the cheek and lied, “I don’t want to get you sick.”
Detrich pushed the bowl toward Aiden explaining they were responsible for the mums’ fragrance.
“I remember David said you put something in your mums,” Aiden recalled about his former roommate.
Mathilda thought about David’s death. Between Fall and Spring his health waned. She remembered David fawned over her plants the year before. Similar mist rose from David and into the cauldron. How could she not have taken notice? Then he fell and broke a few bones. In casts and with limited mobility, an aneurysm burst in his brain. Physical therapy didn’t help. One thing after another went wrong with his body. Tears formed in Mathilda’s eyes and she ran from Aiden’s home to her own.
He pointed out many things in her home that defied her denials.
“You have a homemade broomstick,” he said with a smirk.
“It’s a besom,” Mathilda corrected.
“You’re a witch,” Deitrich declared.
Mathilda asked him for help to bring an antique cauldron from the garage to the front yard.
“They make plastic cauldrons,” Deitrich complained again about the weight of the vessel.
Mathilda again explained that the big cast iron vessel was given to her by her grandmother. She performed a ritual scrubbing the pot with salt and burning herbs to cleanse the air surrounding her home. She tore apart words on scraps of paper and tossed wishes for the coming year into the flames.
Deitrich sat on the porch watching her movements, “You don’t think any of that is witchy?”
Mathilda smiled and walked toward her truck. “It’s just halloween stuff,” she said while carrying mums across the driveway to the cauldron. “Traditions my grandma used to-”
“Your grandma’s a witch too,” Deitrich said while helping Mathilda carry bags of soil to replant the pots of flowers.
Mathilda sat on her porch with a cup of hot spiced cider. Her neighbor Margaret walked by with her dog Gretal. The wind howled just as Margaret approached the cauldron of mums. Margaret waved and Gretal growled. The dog lowered her head and dug her front paws into the grass on the edge of the lawn.
A screech from within the mums startled Margaret and she lost hold of Gretel’s leash. Mathilda’s cat pounced on Gretel and she chased the cat onto the porch.
“I’m so sorry,” Margaret apologized.
“It’s okay. I didn’t know Shadow was in the flower pot.” Mathilda picked up her cat and tossed her into the house..
Margaret got ahold of the dog leash again and walked across the lawn. Again, the wind howled and Gretel stopped to growl at the cauldron. “Stop it. There’s nothing there.”
Mathilda hung purple and green lights around her porch. She dressed the spindles of the fences with garlands of fall leaves. Her back was toward the street when a neighbor called out, “Your mums are beautiful!”
Mathilda turned her head to find her neighbor Aiden bent over the cauldron drawing in the scent.
“My mums don’t have any fragrance. Yours smell so good.”
Mathilda thought of her grandmother’s ritual. The sage, honeysuckle, and mint burned beneath the soil emitted the unique scent.
Again, the wind howled Mathilda walked toward Aiden, prepared to share her secret; but, as she approached, a mist floated into the air above Aiden’s head and was pulled into the cauldron. She recoiled and kept her distance. “I just bought them from Hayden’s Garden Center.”
Aiden turned to Mathilda. His eyes turned completely black and then returned to hazel irises and white corneas. “I got mine from Hayden’s too.” The color washed from his skin. The streetlight near the driveway flickered. Mathilda moved backward toward her porch as Aiden walked away humming in tune with the howling wind.
Mathilda watched the cauldron from her porch. Shadow jumped into her lap and mewed until she was petted affectionately.
Deitrich came to sit alongside Mathlida on the porch. He said quietly, “Aiden called to ask how you made the mums so appealing.”
“He stood out there smelling them,” Mathilda said.
“I told him you’re a witch,” Deitrich said with a laugh.
“I think he-” Mathilda tried to find words to describe what she saw earlier. “I think he went into the cauldron.”
“What do you mean? He sat on your flowers?”
Mathilda shook her head in negation. “I think I saw his soul fall in.”
“Well,” Deitrich reasoned, “He was on the phone. Pretty sure he called from his home. Not the flower pot.”
“My grandma warned me,” Mathilda said. “A witch stirs the souls in a cauldron to keep their spirits active while waiting for reentry into the world.”
“What do you mean, reentry?”
“Like reincarnation. The older the soul, the deeper they sink. Witches of the Watch continually stir so wizened souls balance immaturity and ignorance.” Shadow growled on Mathilda’s lap. She hadn’t realized she was squeezing the cat harder with each word spinning in her thoughts. “If Aiden’s soul was taken into the cauldron,” Mathilda surmised, “his body is walking around rotting.”
“He just wants to know about the mums,” Dietrich said. “I didn’t say you were a witch,” he confessed. “I told him you burn herbs in the flower pot and they must smell like whatever you burned.”
Mathilda knocked on Aiden’s door with a bowlful of dried sage, honeysuckle, and mint.
She forced a cough when Aiden leaned in for a neighborly kiss on the cheek and lied, “I don’t want to get you sick.”
Detrich pushed the bowl toward Aiden explaining they were responsible for the mums’ fragrance.
“I remember David said you put something in your mums,” Aiden recalled about his former roommate.
Mathilda thought about David’s death. Between Fall and Spring his health waned. She remembered David fawned over her plants the year before. Similar mist rose from David and into the cauldron. How could she not have taken notice? Then he fell and broke a few bones. In casts and with limited mobility, an aneurysm burst in his brain. Physical therapy didn’t help. One thing after another went wrong with his body. Tears formed in Mathilda’s eyes and she ran from Aiden’s home to her own.
