Mom never planned on teaching me 'The Craft' as she called it. Of course that had been before my transfiguration from being a boy to a girl. Once mom accepted the fact that I was indeed Cerridwen she rolled up the sleeves of her dress and got to work teaching me in earnest 'The Craft'. You see mom is a witch, much like her younger sister and her mother before her and her mother before her. And pretty much all the women of the Whitethorn line.
Now before I go on, I should clarify something. When I use the word 'Witch' I do not mean a woman that lives alone in the woods, in a falling down house that is surrounded with tall weeds, a woman with pimples and bumps all over her skin that wears a loose, formless black dress. That wears a black pointed hat, and is often seen riding on a broom as she sails through the night air, cackling out as she does so. Often with a black cat in tow.
No, by 'Witch' I mean a woman who practices the ancient arts of magic. Who is in tune with nature and harnesses the powers of the earth and bids them do her bidding. Mom is a high priestess of the local collection of witches that have lived in and around Benton for almost a hundred or so years. This collection of witches or witch families have made the hills that ring Benton there home. There are a good forty of us families. Most of us are married to each other and are cousins to a point.
Anyway, mom does not earn a living from 'The Craft' she earns her living being a hairdresser, she even owns her own beauty salon in town. Anyway, the story I'm going to tell you is a little embarrassing. But I decided I'm going to share it with you anyways.
Now you see, part of being a novice witch or a witch in training was learning the basic skills Reading the Tarot Cards was one skill that I'd pretty much mastered. That had been the first skill mom had taught me, and I quickly became aware why people would often pay good money to have me read their future with the Tarot Cards. And before you guys get on your high horse, I never charge more than four dollars a session. I'm not running a scam after all, nor am I trying to get rich off my classmates that often have more dollars that sense. I'm just a girl trying to hustle and get that lunch money.
Anyway another skill mom had decided to teach me was making home-made soaps that were infused with healing herbs and roots. These soaps were intended to wash away bad spirits and negative thoughts. Mom also sells these home-made bars of soap at her salon too. Another skill was brewing potions, mom rarely brews a potion, and when she does its normally to help with a sore throat or help with the common cold. Now I've only seen my mom brew potions, but I've never ever tried to brew a potion before. It was on the discipline of the arts that mom thought I was too much of a novice to try.
Instead she had me focus on identifying the various supernatural creatures that inhabit the hills, hollows, dales, streams and rivers of this region. That included the infamous Rougarou that is said to prey on lost children, wayward hunters, and careless hikers. Other's include fresh water mermaids that live in the many ponds, lakes, streams and rivers that dot this region. These are harmless, and often try to avoid travelers and fishermen. Then there are the Grindylow who make their home in the many meres, bogs and lakes that dot the hollow. Unlike the fresh water mermaids these creatures are more than happy to pull people down into the depths of the murky water to feast on their flesh.
Anyway, back to the story, late one autumn afternoon, a few days after Samhain I decided to brew a potion. Or try my hand at brewing a potion. I decided beforehand to brew a love potion.. because it was near Homecoming and I thought there would be a market for a love potion. Now keep in mind, I've never ever brewed a potion before and so I had no idea where to start. But I was sure I could wing it.
I remember that day, it was a rare cold day, the grass had turned from green to brown. The leaves on the trees had changed from green to different shades of orange, brown, and yellow. It was the kind of weather that made you wear a sweater while waiting on the bus early in the morning but by mid-afternoon you had stripped yourself of the sweater. Perfect pneumonia weather. Anyway school had just let out for the day and the bus had just dropped me off at the edge of our gravel driveway.
I stood there beside the old dirt road for a few long minutes as I watched the bus rumble down the narrow country lane that twisted like a snack through the countryside. Once the bus had vanished from my point of view. I took a deep breath and started to walk down the gravel driveway. Without giving it much thought, I opened the door to the kitchen and walked inside the darkness. Mom was still at work and dad was working the six to three shift down at Yazoo Chemical. So I pretty much had the house to myself.
Once I entered the kitchen I rushed into my room. Once I entered my room, I tossed my school satchel into the corner where my homework desk sit. I then started to strip myself the heavy cotton blouse and red woolen skirt that made up my school uniform. You see my school blouse is a heavy, white cotton blouse with fire engine red buttons. It's paired with a matching red, woolen skirt with zip pockets. Of course, snow white stockings and black dress shoes complete the look. Benton Academy has a strict uniform policy too, heck even your hair ribbons have to be either red or white. And yes your hairbands hang either red or white too. And before you ask, yes even your Alice band needs to be either red or white too..
Anyway I quickly peeled off the red woolen skirt, the heavy cotton blouse and of course the sweat soaked stockings and tossed them all into the laundry hamper located beside my bed. I then changed into my more casual clothing, a pink skirt and a white short sleeve blouse. That done, I walked back into the kitchen and decided to get to work on my potion.
Now, we live in a kind of tiny wooden cottage, and the kitchen was the biggest room in the whole house. In the center of the kitchen one would find a wooden table, a round wooden table that had come from my late-great-grandmother's house, the table had been shined till it glowed. Surrounding the table were five old wooden chairs. On the left side of the kitchen one would find the stove, kitchen sink and fridge. Hanging above the stove one would find copper pots that had been polished till they seemed to almost glow.
Also from the rafters of the kitchen one would find bundles of drying herbs, herbs curing because they would be crushed and ground into powders that mom would mix together to make her potions and soaps.
Now the first step in brewing a potion was selecting the pot to use. Now mom used a old, polished copper kettle that has been in the family for generations. I did not trust myself using that, so instead I decided to use an old iron cauldron that I've often practiced with. Once I've selected the pot to use, I placed it on the stove. Now back in the olden days, they would brew potions over an open fire, but now mom used the stove.
Once the fire was lit, I placed the cauldron over the bluish flame, I then walked over to an old wooden bookcase that stood in the living room. The bookcase held all manner of books, most of them cheap romance novels that mom enjoyed reading while things were slow at her shop. But some of those books were old, leather bound books with yellow pages. Those books held all the magic lore that had been passed down from one woman to another in the Whitethorn Family clan.
Those books, they were four or five of them, contained all the magical lore known to my family, including charms, spells, and yes even potions. I've only flipped through them once or twice, and that was always under mom's careful supervision. I mean grimoire are treasured text. Worth their weight in gold and silver.
Finally I found the book I was looking for, an old grimoire that had belonged to my grandmother. It was an old, leather bound book that showed it had an age and had a musty smell to it. That old book smell, if you're a book lover you will know the smell I'm talking about. Anyway I pulled the book from the case and started toward the kitchen once more. It took some doing, but at last I found the instructions to brew the potion I wanted.
To brew a draft to cause infatuation. Was the first line. The next line reads as follows. Take a pinch of cedar root that hath been grounded in a fine powder and allowed to dry in the sun. Mix well with three cups of water and allow to simmer on an open fire for a quarter of an hour.
I blinked and blinked again. Thankfully mom had some ground cedar root laying around. Don't ask me what she used it for. I'm not sure how much a 'Pinch' was either so I ended up spooning a good tablespoon into the three cups of water I had on the stove. I then turned the stove up and tried to bring the mixture to a simmer. And with that I moved onto the next line.
Now that brew is simmering, take in hand a branch of willow, take and break in half and then again. Into the mixture throw, then take in hand, a full measure of Jesuit Bark, and stir until mixed with the others. Then allow them to marry for a half an hour more.
I had no idea what 'Jesuit Bark' was so I just tossed a good handful of coarse ground black pepper into the simmering mixture. And since I did not have a willow branch, and I did not feel like walking the mile and a half from my house to the nearby creek where willows grew, I decided to skip that step. I then moved on to the next few lines.
Hath now thy mixture is brewing, toss in a full good measure of ground oak root and crushed pine leafs. Toss in then, a full good measure of pepper and allow it to simmer.
I blinked and blinked again. Okay this was confusing.. I was starting to regret ever trying to brew this potion, but seeing I'd come this far, I was determined not to back out now. And so I went into the spice rack. I did not have ground oak root, but I'm sure cinnamon would work in a pinch, so again I tossed a few more spoon fulls of that into the unholy mixture of spices bubbling away on top of the stove. And again I did not have any pine leaves.. so I tossed in some crushed up bay leafs. And of course more pepper.
I then returned to the book for further instructions.
Now take, in hand, a good measure of salt and toss it into the mix, add then thine own spit for good measure. Then oil, any will do and allow to bubble. Then at last, thine will have a potion that will cause sudden infatuation to any handsome man that drinks from it.
I did all that. I felt very foolish while doing it though. Then I noticed one last set of instructions, a set of instructions that caused me to pale. Now, before the potion's magic will take effect. You young maiden must drink of it yourself and hold it down, lest all your efforts prove in vain.
The moment I read that line, I grimaced and I could feel my face twisting into an expression of wry amusement. At that moment I was debating between either taking the potion off the fire, for it was bubbling and smelled quite horrible and then tossing it out the kitchen window or going through with the last part and trying to taste the foul brew. I decided on the latter after a few moments of going back and forth with myself. I reached over and took a plastic ladle and dipped it into the hell broth.
Then gathering up my courage, I ladled the hell broth into a coffee mug that I fished out the drainboard. I then took a deep breath, pinched my nose and swallowed without trying to taste. It went down smooth then it hit my stomach and then it seemed to bounce back up. And before I could catch myself I found myself rushing down to the bathroom.
Looking back, if I'd just taken a few moments to read the last line, I would have known to toss the potion out the window and scrub the pot clean as a whistle before mom came home. Because the last line reads like this. Oh Foolish young girl who had hoped to capture a young man's heart with enchantment and magic. There is no such thing as a love potion. Love is something that must be grown within the heart and is a plant that matures slowly and only bears fruit after countless seasons have passed. But this potion is good to cool thine heels and think twice, For lust and love often go hand in hand and lust and passion too. Think twice, before you are saddled with the offspring of thine ill gotten passion, for lust clouds judgment.
To be continued.
“Cerridwen Circe Whitethorn!” I heard my mothers voice echo down the hallway. It seemed she was on the very verge of flipping her lid. I groaned as I looked down and then looked down at the toilet. Pieces of half chewed up chicken, sausage from this morning and bits of egg and corn floated in a light brown broth. Drinking the potion had forced me to empty my stomach.
“Would you mind telling me what mischief you've been up to, young lady?” She said as she popped her head into the bathroom and saw me hunched over the toilet. I blinked and reached up and flushed and sent what remained of my breakfast and lunch down the sewer.
“Cerridwen!” Mom yelled as she noticed me hunched over the toilet seat. She then rushed toward me and tossed her arms around me. She quickly threw her arms around me and felt my head. At that moment another wave of nausea hit me and a few seconds later I was once more emptying my stomach into the toilet.
“Good Goddess girl.” Mom yelled as she reached up and felt my head. “What kind of hellish potion have you tried to brew!” She said as she reached down and tried to pick me up. I could not stand on my own, as my legs felt like rubber.
“A love potion.” I muttered under my breath.
“Oh good Goddess.” My mother said again as she stood me up and marched me to the basin, she then reached over and snatched a white, cotton rag from the counter top, she then turned the cold water tap. She let the water run for a few seconds before she dipped the rag under the flow of cold water. Once the rag was damp she ran it out and started to blot my face and my flushing cheeks. “And I bet you used my grandmother's recipe too?”
I nodded my head, the cold rag refreshed me a little.
“Blood hell.” She muttered. “Who who were you trying to get to love you?” She asked as she guided me out of the bathroom. “Can't be that Bell boy. Lord he will lasso the moon for you if he could and give you all the stars in the night sky.” She said, sighing. “Unless that played out and you've found another boy you fancy. One not so devoted as that Bell boy and so you need a bit of magic to get him worked around your finger.”
“No mom.” I said, taking a deep breath. “Daisy and I are still going together. I mean we're going to the annual Homecoming dance together and I even volunteered to play the 'Hostage' because I knew I'll get a sparkling new dress and two tickets out of it.”
Mom blinked and blinked again as she peered at me. After a few long minutes she just sighed and gently guided me out of the bathroom, she guided me down the hallway toward the kitchen. The potion was still simmering and its smell had now filled the hallway. The smell was like rotten eggs that had been stuffed into sweaty gym socks and left to sour and spoil.
“I think you and I need to have another mother and daughter talk.” She said as she peered at me. “Once you're done throwing up what remains of your breakfast and I'm going to assume lunch.” She said as she watched as I gently started to walk out of the bathroom. “Once you feel like you can keep something down, come find me in the kitchen.”
It took me a few minutes, but after what felt like an eternity, I found the strength to walk into the kitchen. Mom had already discharged the remains of the potion and returned the book to the bookcase. Mom took one look at me, and motioned for me to take a seat at the kitchen table. I took the nearest seat and almost fell into the chair. Then without thinking, I folded my arms on the table and placed my head in them.
“You know.” Mom said as she watched me take a seat. “When I was your age, I tried the same thing. And I felt pretty crappy. Lucky for you the antidote is simple.” She reached into the fridge and pulled out a dark, brown bottle. “Switchel.” She said smiling as she unscrewed the cap and pushed the bottle toward me.
“Switchel?” I said blinking as I sniffed the bottle. It smelled of ginger and honey. Rolling my shoulders I held the bottle up to my lips and took a long sip. And then much to my amazement the sourness that had settled over my stomach seemed to ease a little.
“It's a drink. It's also a kind of potion. It's made by mixing water, pure filtered water, vinegar, ginger and molasses together. Though you can use honey, sugar, brown sugar, or maple syrup. I added a few drops of lemon juice to mine. It's good to help settle the stomach on hot days.” She paused and added with a slight smile. “Or to wash away the taste of a failed love potion from the mouth of a wayward witch who should have known better. And I'm sure I've taught you better too.”
I said nothing and finished nursing the beverage.
“Really Cerridwen.” She said, sighing. “Of all the potions you could have tried to brew, you had to go and try to brew a love potion? That borderline dark magic girl.” She said, “That’s forbidden magic.” She added.
“Why?” I said as I leaned back in my chair.
“Because it does not create love, nothing in this world can create love. All it does is make the drinker feel infatuated for the person who brewed it. And who added some trace of themselves.” She said, sighing. “Trust me, that's a slippery slope.”
“But they seem harmless enough?” I said looking dead at my mom. “I mean most of the cradle stories you told me had a helpful witch brewing a love potion to help a princess win over the heart of some handsome knight or a handsome prince. Some stories also had the knight or prince going to the witch to have her brew the potion so they could win the heart of the fair maiden they longed for.”
“Cerridwen, how old are you?” Mom said as she placed her hand in her head and sighed.
“Fifteen..” I said blinking. “Mom, don't tell me you don't know how old I am?” I said tilting my head in confusion.
“Young lady, I know how old you are. And you're far too be reading those cradle tales.” She said, sighing. “Cerridwen, you were not born a girl, you were born a boy. So there are some things you can not do. Having children is one of them.” She said swallowing hard. “I'm not trying to be mean here. And I know some women I know can't have children, and some women don’t want children. But those who can must be careful. A love potion.. can lead to well.” She paused.
“.. Go on mom..” I said standing up. I walked over to the fridge and pulled out an ice cold can of RC Cola.
“Honey, would you mind getting me on too?” Mom said, sighing as she started to rub her head.
I wanted to say 'You can get it yourself' because of the remark mom threw in about my former life. But I decided to be the better person for the moment and pull out another can of ice cold RC Cola. I handed it to mom who popped the tap and took a long drink.
“About fifty years ago there was this witch who lived in the hollow.” Mom started. “She fell in love with this handsome young man who came from a wealthy family. His father was the board of the directors for Bank of Yazoo.” Mom paused again. “Now not only was his father on the board of directors, but his grandfather was president of the bank. And he had a promising future ahead of him. He was an Eagle Scout, he had also been elected student president. And was valedictorian of the first class to ever graduate from the newly opened Benton Academy. In short he had everything working for him. She on the other hand was working as a carhop down at the local burger joint. According to some she was saving for community college or saving to buy a car or something. Anyway her life was a dull three to closing shift.”
I nodded my head.
“Anyway what happened is one night she spotted this young man in his fancy new car, surrounded by all his handsome and successful friends. And she just fell in love with him. Well she fell in love with his money. Coming from a poor family as most Hollow families are.” Mom paused. “Anyway, according to the story that was passed on to me, she spiked his drink with a love potion that she brewed herself. And as predicted the boy fell in love with her.. for a moment.” Mom
I nodded my head again.
“Of course it was not true love, it was false love, a feeling of love made by the magic of the potion. And it caused quite the scandal around town. And for a while this girl became the belle of high society. She was taken to all the fancy dinners and shown off. And this could have kept going till the day they died if she had just kept feeding him the love potion. But then something happened. The girl happened to become pregnant and she was overjoyed. She thought at last she had trapped the boy of her dreams. That if anything he was honor bound to stay with her, if not for love, for the life that was growing in her.” Mom said, sighing. “She’d been reading way too many fairy tales. It’s too common for a boy to get a girl pregnant and then vanish on her. Way too common indeed.
“I see.. I think I know where this is going..” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Let me finish.” Mom said, taking a deep breath. “So she stopped giving the boy the love potion. And what happened, the moment the effects of the magic wore off. The boy dropped her like a hot stone, and broke the girl's heart. Leaving her heavily pregnant with a child.” Mom paused. “The girl did not really want the baby, so got rid of it. So she went to a back alley clinic located in the bad part of Benton and they used a coat hanger to perform and abortion on the baby.. but because it was an back alley clinic the girl suffered horribly and bleed out on the table and died.”
I blinked and blinked again.
“That's why you have to be careful around love potions dear.” Mom said. “It's borderline dark magic. And improper use of them can lead to wella tragedy and tarnish the name of witches everywhere.” Mom then stood up. “And trust me, we don’t want a modern day Salem Witch trial on our hands.”
“So now that you've heard my story, I need to ask you one question. Why were you brewing a love potion in the first place?” Mom asked as she peered at me.
“I was..” I said blinking in quick succession. “I was planning to sell them to some classmates since Homecoming is just around the corner and many of the girls are wanting to get a certain boy to ask them out. I figured I could get twenty dollars a pop for them and become popular?” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
Mom sighed.
“Cerridwen.. that is the most..” She paused. “That is the most.. Cerridwen you and I need to continue this discussion in private.” She said as she stood up. “Come on my wayward daughter, let's get this over with so I can start on dinner. Daddy will be home in a few hours and I like to have something prepared for him when he gets off.”
To be continued.
I knew I was in deep trouble when mom mentioned she wanted to have a 'private discussion' with me. I knew that was mom talking for me going across her lap while she applied the hairbrush to my bare bottom. I breathed a silent prayer under my breath as I was marched from the kitchen to my bedroom. Mom followed behind me, her arms folded across her chest and a crossed look graced her face as she walked a few steps behind me. A few minutes later we reached my room.
I went in first and mom followed me in, mom closed the door behind me and took a deep breath as she peered at me. I could tell she was not quite pleased to be having this conversation with me. Once mom had closed the door she guided herself over to my vanity, after a few seconds of looking, she found what she was hunting. An old Edwardian hairbrush that had an ebony backside. I had picked it up at a local yard sale at the bargain price of three dollars and fifty cents. And much to my chagrin mom decided it was the perfect tool to tan my bottom with when I'd misbehaved.
She scooped the hairbrush up in her hand and peered at me as she walked over and eased her bottom down upon my bed. She took a deep breath as she peered at me. She then motioned for me to come closer. I followed, though I thought doing so would be foolish, I knew better than to disobey my mother when she was in one of these moods.
A few seconds later I found myself standing in front of my seated mother. Who wasted no time in pulling down my skirt. My protest fell on deaf ears though. For soon I was stepping out of my skirt and being lowered over my mothers lap. I felt my high cheek bones start to heat up as I felt myself being settled over my mothers lap.
A few tense seconds passed, before I felt the brush come crashing down upon my bottom. The ebony backside of the brush made a loud echo as it came crashing down upon my bottom, sending a powerful wave of sting and burn rolling like the ocean tide into my bottom. The force of the stroke made my bottom bounce, and wiggle around like a bowl of jello-pudding. A few seconds later I felt another painful sting of the brush come cracking into my bottom, once more the brush sent a wave of sting and burn rolling into my bottom. I could feel my toes starting to curl under.
“Cerridwen!” Mom scolded as she peered down at me, “I thought I taught you better girl! History is ripe with people like us being shunned by society and even out ride murdered. And you! You girls have a double target painted on your back! Not only are you part of the LGBTQ+ community, but you're a witch! A witch who enrolled in a mostly white, upper middle class, christian academy .”
I nodded my head as the wooden hairbrush came cracking down upon my bottom, sending yet another wave of sting rolling into my bottom. My chest heaved and hoed and my upper teeth sank into the bottom of my lip, all the while my toes curled as the brush kept popping away every few seconds.
“YES MA'AM!” I bellowed as I dug my fingernails into my blankets.
“Cerridwen Circe Whitethorn! Do you have any idea the amount of trouble you could have caused not only yourself, but your fellow classmates if you had carried through this this half baked scheme of yours to make a few quick dollars? She added in a scolding voice as she cracked by bottom two more times with the hairbrush. I could feel the heart starting to glow.
Now to be honest, I had a faint idea of how much trouble I would have caused, now that mom had laid the facts out on the table. But since I'd already dug my own grave. I decided to keep quiet. I've discovered since becoming Cerridwen that mom would often ask questions that she does not want an answer too.
And talking back would get you into more trouble.
“A improperly brewed potion! Can do more harm than good! Potion crafting is like Chemistry. That one reason I was holding off teaching you that branch of the craft till you had take Chemistry I and and Chemistry II your Junior and and Senior Year.” Mom said, sighing. “That way you would have at least a basic understanding of the craft. Potion crafting is all about learning how different substances, that is elements and compounds interact with a living organism. So really it's like Biochemistry. But still, it's one of the hardest branches of the craft to master and requires strict discipline and total focus.”
Then another furry of swats came pounding into my bottom. It felt like a swarm of angry honey bee's decided to attack my bottom. The old, wooden hairbrush quickly fell upon my bottom, smacking it, before being raised up and smacked again.
“Focus and discipline that seem to be lacking!” Mom said she cracked the brush again upon my bottom. “But for now, we shall stick with the basic lessons.”
And with that she tossed the wooden hairbrush to the side of my bed. She then reached down and scooped me up and drew me close to her chest. I heaved a sigh into mom's chest as she scooped me up and dew close to her bosom. She cradled me between her breasts and wrapped her arms tightly around me. I could hear her heart beating in her chest.
“My sweet, dear Cerridwen.” She whispered into my year as she cradled me. “I'm so sorry I had to do that. But you need to learn. And it's my job to teach you.”
And so mom cradled me, and soon I started to cry like I always do when I get spanked. But mom just held me, she held me all through my crying fit and she held me till all the tears were spent. Then she picked me up, carried me bridal style to the bathroom, washed my face and helped me fresh up. Then she and I started on dinner. And that is how this little misadventure comes to an end.