Writing Sample #3

          Elliot followed her floating trunk single file behind Vera on a vaguely cut path through the trees. It had been at least thirty minutes since they left the parked car at the trailhead, the forest now expanding above, around and beyond them as far as they both could see. While Elliot breathed the fresh mountain air, Vera squinted into the morning sun murmuring something about ‘paths to this place, anyway’. She was wearing a multicolored shawl tied tightly under her chin and sunglasses with thick, white plastic rims. Moose was trotting off the leash around her ankles, sniffing here and there looking for a good place to leave his mark.

          “They say that at the center of any expanse of trees... Vera lifted her sunglasses and squinted deeper into the woods ahead, “...you can find a path to Nepseth.” She shook out her flowing sleeve and calibrated something on her sleeve. “Your grandmother used to take your mom and I to the garden center at the local hardware store, but I figured you’d want something a little more ceremonious than disappearing in aisle eleven, or diving into an assortment of cacti.”

          Elliot curbed her amusement, “Did it hurt?”

“Do bears shit in the woods?”

          Moose tumbled out of a shrub and shook himself clean. He paused for one, happy moment before barreling forward into a bush up ahead.

          “One thing you need to know about arcane society, El, is it suffers a total lack of modernization. Nepseth was founded eons before women could even vote,” Vera scoffed, “And you wonder why everything sucks.”

          “It doesn’t sound like you do.”

          “Well, you’re right. It’s like my podcast says, ‘let the women do the work’.”

          “But didn’t women build it? Witches being at the center of--you know--magic and stuff.” 

          “Pre-fifteenth century, sure,” Vera replied, “But times have changed, peanut, we pick our own labels now. All I’ll say is it’s a damn shame I choose to share that label with the same blockheads who can’t just invest in a Pucking charter bus.”

          Elliot nodded, silently realizing that even Vera’s swears were enchanted in nature. “What would you pick then?”

          “I’ve been partial to ‘sorceress’,” Vera said with a sigh, “But I don’t recommend you throwing that word around once you get there. You’ll never hear the end of ‘wicked’ and ‘unbridled magics’,” Her tone said it all, “They wouldn’t even let me call myself a hag. So much for ladies’ choice.”

          Elliot could feel what she thought was Vera’s magic prickling the air around them as she spoke. It was familiar to other times when she would come home to find Vera in the kitchen muttering both to herself and Moose who snoozed nearby. As she walked, she also considered all the times that her ‘chill Aunt Vera’ was swallowing evidence of so-called ‘unbridled magics’. She considered that perhaps ‘sorceress’ was an honest assessment after all.

          After some time, Vera stopped suddenly and put one of her gloved hands to her ear. The trunk bumped her rear and Elliot bumped into it. Moose, who was somewhere else came bounding faithfully back. Elliot watched as her aunt licked her pinky and held it up to the sky. Sticking it back in her mouth, she listened for another moment before turning around and shooing the trunk to wait just off the pathway.

          “Okay, El, we’re here” Vera sighed, “Well, sort of. This is as close as we’re going to get. And stand up straight, will you, you’re making me nervous.”

          Elliot straightened herself as Vera appeared already as nervous as she accused her to be, her hands quivering as if she wished for a cigarette. The magic in the air was even sharper now and the trees were paying attention. “I’m going to say a few words--if you don’t mind.”

          Her niece nodded and Vera Moon-Wiggins cleared her throat once, then again for good measure.

          “Elliot Wisteria Moon,” she stated, “today you begin your journey down the ancient path of the witch in the name of knowledge and understanding.” The trees whispered above them, “Today you attune to your primal power, accepting it’s gifts and opening your soul to its truths. Today-- ” Vera paused, looking at Elliot looking back up at her waiting for her to finish, but she didn’t. Instead, she relived in her gaze something that Elliot herself couldn’t see.

          “You know what?” Vera pulled her sunglasses off, “C’mere.” She leaned down and collected her niece in her arms. When she pulled back, Vera held her at arm’s length and steeled the magic that still percolated from her ears. “Listen to me, El. Nepseth sucks, but you’re a Moon and no matter what anyone says about it, that’s what makes you magnificent.”

          Elliot smiled and Vera returned it until her eyes watered again and pulled her back into an embrace. She held her there until Elliot felt something pulling gingerly at her hair.

When she opened her eyes again, the trees were very much alive, their vines and branches reaching down to inspect Elliot’s hair and clothes. They lifted what was left of her short brown locks, curling them curiously in their twigs and swishing in delight. 

          “Hey, hey!” Vera snapped, sending the trees flinching away. She pet Elliot’s hair back down, “We better get this over with, huh. No time for sappy monologues.” she revealed what appeared to be a sharpened twig from her robe and tapped it against her palm.

          “Come on!” she said, waving it accusingly at the flora, “You wanted to move this along so bad, let’s go.”

          Miffed, but ever curious, the trees began to bend and shape. Their leaves, branches and twigs began weaving together, interlocking to a doorway that seemed to look out just beyond the very same forest. Upon closer inspection, the space between the two tree trunks shimmered and Vera approached it for inspection.

          She pushed her finger against the shine and it gave way like soap in a bubble wand. When her finger went through, she pulled it out and tasted it. The forest beyond it warping into a place shimmering with light; an alternate dimension at best, an interdimensional prison at worst.

          Vera made a face, “Not the cleanest, but you can’t expect much from trees who haven’t seen a Nepseth first year since the Dark Ages.” She urged Elliot’s floating trunk through the portal and Elliot watched it disappear in awe. “Alright, let’s go, El. The earlier we are, the less likely we’ll run into someone we definitely don’t want to run into.”

          “Like that woman?”

          Vera’s sour expression curdled, “Whittle,” she grumbled, the woman’s manic smile still plastered in her memory rent free, “She’s not exactly the barrel of monkeys she thinks she is.” She put her hand on Elliot’s shoulder, “Alright, now hold your nose going through, okay? These trees smell like old people.”