Ebook Ghostwriting

  The Witch and the Boy Who Loved Her

When I was 7, I was sent to live with my grandmother in a small town. I was told my parents were killed in a car accident, and I had no other family. I remember pulling up the driveway to the old, two-story house with graying sides. It had curtains hanging in all the windows blocking any light, a shabby-looking porch, grass uncut, weeds growing where flowers once bloomed, an ample tree shading most of the yard, and a tire swing that was mossy with age. I remember the social worker telling me not to be scared, that my grandmother was a lovely woman. Different, but nice. I stepped out of the old car she drove, and she handed me my suitcase. I wasn't allowed to bring anything else. She walked up ahead of me to knock on the door. As I walked with shaky strides up to the porch, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. I stopped to look harder. Squinting in the afternoon sun, I could see the outline of another child in the grass at the far end of the yard. 

    "Layla, don't make your grandmother wait now! Get up here!" The social worker hollered at me. I turned quickly and headed up the porch. As I took the final step up to the porch, the door swung open. I remember seeing my grandmother for the first time. She wasn't nearly as old-looking as I had imagined. The only indication of her age was the gray throughout her once-dark hair. 

    "You must be Layla." Her voice was soft. 

    "Yes, ma'am."  I almost stammered.

    "No need to be so formal, dear. We're family, after all. Grandmother will do just fine. Come inside. It's dreadfully hot out here."She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and ushered me inside as she spoke the words. "If that is all of her things, that will be all. Thank you." She smiled as she dismissed the social worker. 

    "You don't have any questions for me, Mrs. Merriwell?" My grandmother gave her a curt wave and nod as she closed the door in the social worker's face. As I stood in the entryway, I was unsure of what would come next. Would she hate me? Why had I not met her before? So many questions whirled through my head.

    "Well, now that she is gone, we can get to know each other." Her warm smile reassured my frightened child’s mind. "You must be hungry. Let's eat, and then we'll talk, and I can show you around. You'll have a lot to learn. Witchcraft doesn't come easy. Follow me." She spun on her heel and started into another room. I followed as quickly as I could. A million questions were swirling through my mind. Did she say witchcraft?

    After eating a simple sandwich and iced tea, her phone rang. The old rotary phone was so loud it gave me a start. My grandmother gave me a slight laugh and pointed toward the back door. 

    "This may take a few minutes. Why don't you go outside for a bit and look around? I'll come to get you when I am done." With that, she answered the phone and turned away from me. Not wanting to eavesdrop, I headed out the door. The yard was enormous. I could see an overgrown garden and what looked like something moving in it. Curiosity got the better of me as I slowly approached. I could see the outline of the kid I had seen earlier. It looked like he was playing some kind of game by himself. 

    "I can see you, ya know?" He was still crouched in the grass. 

    "No, I didn't know. What are you doing?"

    "I always play here. What are you doing? Why are you here?"

    "My grandmother is on the phone. She told me to come out here. My parents died in a car crash. So I came here to live."

    "Really? I mean, it sucks that your parents died, but you're gonna stay?"

    "Well, yeah. I don't have any other family." As I said that, he shot up. He was closer than I had realized. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the grass where he had been crouching. 

    "Look, I found them. I am trying to build them a better nest." He pointed at a small group of eggs nestled in the grass. He was rustling the grass around them, making sure they were out of sight. "There. That should do." As he said that, he stood back, brushing his hands off and admiring his handy work.

    "What are they?" 

    "I think they are chicken eggs, maybe goose. I am not too sure. My name is Peter. Let's be friends." He thrust his hand at me and smiled.

    "I am Layla." I shook his hand gingerly. I didn't know what to do. I had never had a friend before. I only had my parents. None of the kids in my old school liked me at all. 

    "Come on, let's go play pirates!" He shouted as he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him with a laugh. 

    I'll never forget that day. That was the day Peter became my best friend. We spent all our free time together. When my grandmother wasn't teaching me about my craft, I spent the rest of the summer outside with Peter. He taught me how to climb trees, play catch, and be the best pirate. We were inseparable.

    One evening we were playing in our tree fort we had built when he got suddenly reticent. The look on his face was solemn. "Hey, Peter, are you okay?"

    "We will be friends forever, right, Layla?" His voice was so small. 

    "Of course, Peter. Forever." I grabbed his hand as I said it. I don't know why I did it. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. 

    "You promise?" 

    "Yes. I promise."

    "Okay, good. Hey! I wanna show you something! Come with me!" With that, he jumped up, pulling me along with him. We jumped down from our tree fort and ran along the tree line to an open field just on the outside of the fence. We stopped in the middle of the neighboring farmer’s field. 

    "Here, lay down with me!" 

    "Okay. This is crazy, Peter! What are we doing? Won't the farmer be mad that we are in his field?"

    "No one will see you once you lay down." His mischievous smile was always convincing. I grinned and rolled my eyes as I lay down next to him. The sun was setting, and nightfall was settling over the field. 

    "Shouldn't we go? It's getting late."

    "Just wait. Just a little longer. I promise it will be worth it.....Please, Layla." I think he knew I wouldn't be able to say no to him. 

    "Ok, just a little longer. I don't want my grandmother to worry." He moved his hand over to mine and held it gently. I could have stayed that way forever. Just the two of us, watching the stars slowly come out. But, I had to admit it felt nice to have him there. 

    "Laayylaaa! It's time to come in, dear! You need to practice your astrology!" My grandmother's gentle voice floated over the grass, ruining our moment under the stars. 

    "Peter, I have to go. I don't want her to be angry."

    "I know, Layla. I just don't want you to go yet."

    "Peter, are you okay?" He tightened his grip on my hand.

    "Yeah, I am fine. I am just not ready to go home yet."  I wasn't convinced.

    "Laaaylaaa!"     

    "Peter, I will see you tomorrow. I really have to go." Then, with a heavy sigh, he stood up.

    "Okay, Layla. I'll walk you back to your house. My mother will probably be expecting me too, and she will whip me if I don't make sure you get home safe." I liked having a best friend. It was the best feeling in the world. I didn't want to go home, but I knew it was time. As we approached my front porch, he paused. 

    "What's wrong, Peter? You have been acting weird all day?" 

    "Nothing. It's nothing. Just..I'll see you later, Layla. Oh, and this is for you." He reached up and pulled off his necklace. I had asked him about it once before, and he just told me his mother had given it to him—a silver ring with a beautiful spiral design all over it on a beautiful silver chain. 

    "But, wait, I thought..."

    "Just don't forget me, okay, Layla."

    "Peter, how could I forget you? I am going to see you tomorrow?"

    "I know, just take it and promise."

    "Okay, Peter, I promise." Then, as I slipped the chain over my head, he turned and ran off down the driveway toward his house. 

    The next day after my lessons, I waited for Peter to show up. I checked all of our usual places. Our tree fort, the tall grass in my yard, the garden, the farmer’s field, and finally, I walked down to his house when I hadn't seen him. Had I known the night before Peter was leaving, I would have at least said goodbye. That must have been why he was acting so strange. Peter knew he was going. Why didn't he say anything? Why? I tried to run back home, but I tripped in the farmer’s field, landing sprawled out. Instead of standing up, I just lay there sobbing. Meeting Peter had been a Godsend. After the weeks I had spent in the orphanage waiting for the social worker to locate my grandmother, the nights spent crying myself to sleep wondering why my parents had left me and why they had to die. Finally, I found a friend. Someone that helped me forget. After seeing his empty house, I just wondered why. Why did my parents have to leave me? Why did Peter have to leave me? I didn't know what else to do, so I just lay in the field and sobbed till I couldn't anymore. I must have been there for quite some time because I remember my grandmother coming to find me. She didn't know what to say, so she just sat with me while I cried myself to sleep. 

10 years later...