“GLENDA, how the hell? Seriously, stop and tell me what I saw.” Piety said slowly looking at the older woman incredulously. 

Finnigan dog danced on the tiled floor, his nails clicking excited to be leaving. Glenda patted his head and said, “Soon  pretty boy, soon.”

Glenda took in a breath and said, “We never hid who or what we are. Your aunt just avoided the higher power magics that are more demonstrative around you. She never wanted magic pushed on you till she thought you would be ready to know the full truth. She felt that if on the heels of a divorce and losing your home , if you suddenly  had to learn that witches are real you might turn around and leave.” Glenda looked profoundly sad for a moment and she removed her glasses and dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex from her purse. Piety reached out a consoling hand to the older woman’s arm patting it gently.

“Your aunt always said we had plenty of time to enlighten you to the truth about the family. She…just… waited too long my dear, and now you know that we aren’t just new age wanna be’s.” Glenda's face was a portrait of regret in that moment.

Piety was rudderless standing trying to assimilate the information and said, “Ok let’s say I believe what I just saw, why the hell do we need to rush home and summon this dead guy?”

“Do you want to see him again?” Glenda asked quirking an eyebrow.

“NO!” Piety replied emphatically

“Then flip the damn open sign and let’s go. We summon him, find out what happened and then send him on his way.” Glenda replied in a matter of fact way.

Piety disliked the pull-down ladder to the attic. The spring always stuck halfway from being extended from the ceiling, there was always a shower of dust and dead bugs when the steps finally touched down to the floor. Then upon climbing the ceiling ladder the attic was either freezing or sweltering, never a happy medium between the two extremes. Never mind the dry smell of an unused area, it was always cluttered and had that old cardboard box smell. From below Peabody called up, “Why did you put all of Charities things up there?” it was not said conversationally it was peppered heavily with accusation.

Piety rolled her eyes, not this line of questioning… again. Piety had told Glenda that with Aunt Charity gone she felt like the house had become a shrine, she was working during the day at the shop and then coming home in the evening. Once a week she felt compelled to dust and wash down the altars. It took a fair bit of time to carefully dust all of the statuary and incense burners, one day she had enough. She was not a witch or wiccan and she boxed the altars up and put them in the attic. She couldn’t bring herself to just toss the stuff, but she couldn’t just have it out as if Charity was just gone for the weekend and would be right home.

“What do I need from up here?” Piety called down, hoping that the answer would be short and quick. She pulled the cord to the one light in the ceiling it light was pitiful, and she made a mental note to see about getting more light in the attic. She clicked on the pen light and held it in her mouth avoiding the spider webs. Why was she so calm? She asked herself did she really see Glenda pull an image from her dogs’ memory with magic. She sneezed the dust was doing a number on her allergies.

“A small cauldron, the ritual knife or Athame and her hand dipped black candles”. Glenda called up pulling Piety back from her thoughts. The old woman had answered in a clipped tone that indicated that she didn’t like the non-answer she had received to her question about why Charity’s things had been packed up. Dust made Piety’s nose prickle and she hoped it was cold enough now in the fall that the spiders were dead or hibernating …did spiders hibernate? Piety opened the first box and it was filled with a busty statue of the Morrigan an Irish goddess. Piety resealed it and set it aside. Again, she wished she had a bigger flashlight! Oh, why had she not grabbed the mag flashlight?

Finally, she opened the last box, bingo a small cauldron, the Athame and candles of all colors as well as some sealed jars. Piety decided to take it all down to Peabody who was occupying herself with a one-way conversation with Finnigan. The husky did his best to look cute and make soft woofing noises back at her. From her sweater pocket a milk bone materialized, and the dog did a spin and sat like his strings had been cut. Piety ignored the unauthorized treat, trying to reign in her aunts’ best friend was darn near impossible. The woman always seemed to have and unending supply of dog treats on her. As Piety held the box after the treacherous descent down the fold away steps Glenda peeked in the open flaps.

The older woman smiled, “God and Goddess you found it! I remember when we brought that cauldron! Piety dear this vessel has seen a lot work in its day my dear.” She patted the box making a shooing motion at Piety who gritted her teeth and said nothing. One aspect of Glenda Peabody’s personality was that she could be bossy.

Piety walked into the kitchen and set the box on the kitchen table. She stood awkwardly not knowing what would happen next. Mrs. Peabody said in a voice like a drill sergeant issuing orders, “I need a pot of earl grey tea , crème and sugar. The windmill cookies need to be set out also. I get peckish when working magic. Come to think of it maybe a sandwich too, we missed lunch.” The younger woman rolled her eyes “Gandalf fucking Merlyn didn’t have these many demands!” she thought.

Glenda scratched her arm absently then continued, “That Morton salt needs to be put in the blessed water I brought with me from the shop. Lord and lady, kid chop chop, the dead are summoned best when the sun is completely down and dusk is coming soon, it’s fall child.” She said this as if explaining to a simpleton why you shouldn’t pick your nose in public. Piety gripped the chair back as she stood at the kitchen table. Her patience was wearing thin. Yet she set to work on Glenda's demands.

Piety felt ridiculous. She had fulfilled her tasks, down to donning a cloak. She was in all black and Peabody had made her do a second trip to the attic to get her aunts cloak and robe. Piety had felt hot tears well up at the scent of her aunts perfume a homemade mix of patchouli and rose oil when the box had been opened. She dug in her heels and said she would wear the cloak but not the robe. Piety missed her aunt fiercely and not a day went by that she didn’t wish the old free spirt was not here to talk with and make coco late nights and watch reruns of Doctor Who or Outlander. It was Charity ,who when Piety felt like she had failed at everything in life, her marriage, career, relationship with her parents, Aunt Charity took her in and said , “ Kiddo the first 80 years are a bitch then you figure it all out, you’ll see.”

At 28 Piety had finally found acceptance and love only to lose it at 30. Life was seldom fair.

Now standing next to Glenda Peabody in a black cloak, standing outside of a salt circle with a vase of blessed saltwater in my hand she watched the proceedings. This was some crazy shit, then again, she has seen a ghost and her friend perform magic. Finnigan Sat next to her refusing to leave she looked down at him his tongue lolling apparently, he was some rare form of husky ghost hunter she mused.

“Guardians of the Spirit realm, hear and guide my plea.” Glenda intoned lighting the black candles set at point of the circle corresponding to the directions of north, south, east and west. “When the witching hour rings true, bring…” she paused then Glenda consulted the article printed from the internet to get the man’s name right, “ Mister Jacob Yoder found by Piety to me.” She held the Athame took a breath to center herself. “Other souls who hear my call are not welcome in this place. Only the one known as Yoder may enter sacred space.” She paused and re stated the request three times. Piety knew that was coming, Glenda had drilled her on how the spell would work and what to do or not. At the end of the third time they waited and there was nothing…

Piety rolled her eyes, how nuts had she been to participate in this foolishness. She started to set down the vase and leave when Glenda said in a pissy voice, “Show you ass up Yoder, you scared the hell of the kid earlier so obviously you have something to say. I can feel you hanging about her like a fart in an elevator.” Piety snorted, well there goes solemn ritual, she made a motion to step away. Glenda grabbed her arm and hissed, “Wait!”

The Amish farmer gradually did a reverse fade becoming more solid and real in time. His voice had been a whisper and now was distinct. “I don’t answer to a witch.”

Piety knew her mouth was hanging open disbelieving what she was seeing. With a sudden step back Piety almost dropped the vase. If the water has splashed it would have broken the circle. Finnigan gave a low growl that made Piety snap, “Stop that!” and the dog snorted and quit the growl.

“You are here, so let’s ignore the absurdity of that statement. What do want Yoder? Spirits only stay if they have unfinished business, tell us and then you can cross over.”

“I will tell her” he pointed at Piety, “Not you witch.” He set his jaw stubbornly reminding Piety of a mule.

“Oh for fucks sake, I leave the spell breaks and chances are you fade. Just say what you want and leave.?”

Piety couldn’t understand why Peabody who normally had excellent manners was so abrasive with man. Then again, he was adamant he wouldn’t deal with a witch. Piety’s voice quavered she was talking to a real ghost, “Mister Yoder what do you need from me? Without my aunts’ friend I couldn’t have gotten you here so really what do you have to say?”

Yoder’s disgust was evident in the pure loathing his eyes telegraphed to the witch. “I think since you were the first person to find me dead and touched me, my spirit is drawn to you. I want people to know that what attacked me is out there.”

“What attacked you? You were not a hit and run accident with a car?”

“No, it was a thing with fur and claws.” He shuttered, “I will be buried soon, my people don’t wait long to-do that and with it my soul will be judged. I don’t want my death to be one of many this thing attacked me as the moon is waxing, tomorrow will be full moon and it will want to kill again.”

“How do you know?” Piety asked the man gave her a look like she was an idiot. What the fuck was it with everyone thinking she was a moron.

Peabody interrupted, “I suspect that he was attacked by a lycanthrope.”

“Come again?” Piety replied

“Werewolf or something” Glenda replied evenly

“Was it your creature witch?” Yoder snapped His eyes narrowed and his face radiated anger.

She rolled her eyes, “How the hell would I make a werewolf?”

“I do not know; what deals can be made with the devil…” Yoder glared at Glenda who returned the look with interest.

“Stop it you two! Mister Yoder what did it look like?” Piety decided that if she was going to believe in ghosts was it such a stretch to ask about a werewolf?

“ It was dark and my horse had been wringing its tail and shying at every turn. My old gelding is a sturdy lad and not given to that foolishness. Then just after French Road I heard a snarl, I gave the horse more reign to speed up. I thought it might be a dog or some such that we should leave its territory and it would let us go. Micky, my horse, he set his head and ran. I screamed and pulled the reigns and the snarling became a howl. Not like when coyotes sing off in the distance, but this was a howl alongside us. Then I saw a blur of movement and a thing like from that old movie where a man is halfway to wolf with furry clawed hands and yellow evil eyes.”

“Movie?” Piety asked tentatively wondering how a people who shunned electricity would know about a character from film.

“I still live in this world; I see magazines and such in the racks of the grocery store.” Yoder replied with tired sarcasm in his voice.

“Sorry, that was a stupid question I suppose.”

“It would be understandable.” Yoder offered with a slight smile. He seemed to not consider her a witch even though she was in a cloak next to Glenda.

Peabody said quietly, “I’m starting to feel the strain of maintaining this spell you two have any final things to say?”

“Yoder looked only at Piety, “ I want only that my wife know I loved her very much, then again you as a stranger coming to her now would not do well .” he rubbed at his face and his voice in anguish said, “ I was supposed to grow old with her, I had children to raise. God this is not fair, I lived…” His image was not as crisp, the edges blurring.

The vase on the hall table suddenly came crashing to the floor as ghost said louder, “ I was a good man , I was a good husband …I LOVED MY CHILDREN” papers rustled and flew Piety felt fear and she said, “ Yes , I think you were Mister Yoder” Piety held her hands palms out and tried a mollifying voice. Fear rose up and felt like a cold stone below her breastbone She hoped to hell Glenda knew how to deal with it.

Glenda was chanting and then with a popping of air like when a plane depressurizes with an altitude change the man was gone and the circle broken as the salt flew and the candles winked out.