Ghost of O'Leary House

Chapter Ten

The garden is well-lit compared to the rest of the field behind Grandma’s house, David thought as he walked through the kitchen door and out into the sun-lit expanse. A small fence held in this half-acre plot of land, with sun lamps up on poles shining down over the flowering plants dug into neat rows. David knew almost nothing about plants except for what he was taught in his generic science classes, so he turned to see his Grandma coming out of the house behind him.

“So,” he said, looking around, “which plants am I pulling?”

“Anything with brown, oval shaped leaves with yellow flowers that look like curled fingernails coming out of a red base.” Grandma said, pointing to one close by. “You pull them out and stack them up, and I’ll start a fire close by so that we can get rid of them.”

“Okay,” David said thinking of Jesse and his little joke. Did it prove that his Grandma was a witch? She could just be allergic to the plant after all. He was allergic to roses, and that didn’t mean anything supernatural.

But as David prowled through the garden, yanking up shrub after shrub, David began to wonder. The book beneath his bed with photos of the town’s children wasn’t a good sign about his Grandma. Why would she have such things if she weren’t predator? David had recognized the kids from the pond in the mix of photos, all of which seemed to be posing for the camera, so did they know she had the photos?

“David!” Grandma cried out, startling him.

He stood up straight, looking back at her. “What? Was I about to pull the wrong plant?”

“No, just… just stay out of the section of the garden.” She said, shaking her head.

David turned and noticed that most of the plants surrounding him now were dark, with deep purple flowers and thorny vines running around them. One small tree had fruit hanging from its low branches that was pear shaped, but fuzzy and red with barbs growing out of them. A quick glance through this section told David that none of the Witch-Hazel was here, only the gloomy looking plants.

David backed out of that section slowly.

Turning, he saw that his Grandma had made a fire in a metal drum, several long pieces of wood sticking out of the top as the fire crackled merrily. David watched as she threw in some dust, mumbling to herself, before catching David’s eye.

“Well come on then!” She cried, waving him over. “Gather up the pulled bunches and toss them in like lobsters to boil.”

David gathered the pulled plants and dropped them into the blazing fire one by one, the sparks flying as they hit the lit wood forcing David to step back so as not to get burned. Grandma stood on the porch, watching with a broad smile as David cleaned out her garden for her. When he was done, he looked to his Grandma and wiped his brow.

She looked him up and down. “How do you feel?” She asked, sniffing once.

David shrugged. “Fine.”

“No need to scratch?” She asked, not moving from her place blocking the door.

Looking down at his arms, David did notice a few blemishes starting to form, some minor swelling that he would have otherwise ignored. “Now that you mention it, I think I might be allergic to it as well.”

Quite contrary to how he felt, David’s grandmother smiled widely at this and ushered him inside, closing the door behind her. “I cleaned the sink out already, but I have some more of the tonic that should ease your troubles. I thought you might be… allergic as well, just didn’t want to say anything.”

“Well thanks Grandma!” David cried, looking at her with a hint of distaste.

She remained completely unashamed. “I had every reason to believe you would be fine as well. Your father isn’t allergic to it, nor your mother. Must skip a generation…”

“But you have medicine that’ll fix me up? More of it I mean?” David asked.

Grandma waved aside his concerns. “Of course, I do. Just let me fetch it from my room.”

David stood there in the kitchen as the old woman bustled off, now thoroughly confused. If only witches were harmed by Witch-Hazel, then why was it giving him an allergic reaction? David knew he wasn’t a witch. Walking over to the sink, he turned on the faucet and washed his face, clearing away any pollen that had made its way to his eyes. Looking around for a towel, he fetched one hanging from a drawer, wiping down his face slowly so as not to agitate anything that might already be contaminated.

Pulling the towel from his face, he noticed he’d pulled open the drawer a slight bit, revealing an assortment of oddities that brought him closer to inspect. Dried mushrooms and roots, all sitting in a large Tupperware container, bore strange carvings and nails holding on locks of hair. Pulling the drawer out further, David stared wide eyed at the various tools lining the drawer: chisels and saws, paintbrushes, and small jars of mud-colored paint.

David heard the door close to his Grandmother’s room and quickly closed the drawer, turning to wait for her to round the corner into the kitchen. Moments later she came back in, holding a green vial in her wrinkled hand with a smile on her face.

“This is a bit weaker than what you gave me, but it should do the trick.” She said, pulling the cork out of the vial and fishing into her pocket for a moment, revealing a dusty Q-tip moments later. Dipping into the viscous green liquid, she swirled it around as if stirring it, before pulling the coated end out and smearing the goop over the raised skin on David’s arms. The slime was cold to the touch, though it warmed up quickly. Grandma seemed pleased by this and quickly applied more dollops over David’s arms, even going so far as to have him turn and let her examine his neck.

Smiling, she stoppered the vial once more and set it on the table. “Now let that sit on you until you take a bath tonight, then scrub it off good and hard.”

“What is it?” David asked, bringing his arm up to sniff the hardening mixture.

“A poultice I came up with when I was a few years older than you. Your grandfather often got cuts and scrapes farming the land out here, and I needed to keep him healthy and strong you see.”

“So, you came up with this?” David asked.

“Hey now, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it!” Grandma laughed before walking over to the refrigerator. “Now how about I start up something for dinner?”

David nodded. “I’m just going to head back to my room to read until dinner is ready if that’s alright?”

Grandma looked a little hurt but merely nodded. “I can understand that. You’re just like your father, a nose in a book every chance you get. Can’t fault you for that, now can I?”

David got up and gave Grandma a hug, which she returned, before moving towards the back of the house. His arms had started to itch, but he didn’t want to scratch at them; if what Grandma said about this stuff was true then he needed to wait.

The sounds of footsteps above his head made David shiver at the memory of the old woman, hanging from the ceiling like some ominous spider.

“Tonight,” he said beneath his breath. “Tonight, I’ll go explore and see what she’s all about.”