The Witch’s Bluff

RDP Monday: BLUFF

It was morning and me and my cousin were just finishing  the breakfast  Grandfather had made for us.

” Follow me up, all the way up to the top of The Witch’s Bluff  and I’ll show you the Witch’s Grave, ” my cousin told me.

My cousin Kimberly was 14 that Summer. She was tiny and cute and perky like her Mom.

We were eating toast and eggs that morning and washing our fried eggs  down with hot chocolate.

I was about to take my sip of cocoa and instead of following through I said, ” What Witch’s Grave? ”

I held the bit of egg in my mouth for a second and when I was sure our Grandpa  was out of earshot I got up and spit  my bit of egg into the sink.

It tasted like the frying pan.

” Don’t play dumb Vick, ” my cousin said twirling her empty fork ” you know, the Witch’s Grave. Didn’t Grandpa tell you about the grave? ”

I slid back into my seat and took a mouth full of chocolate and held it in my mouth for a good solid minute. ” No. ”

” You’ve been coming out here longer then anyone else and Grandpa and Grandma never told you about the Witch’s Grave? ”

” That’s probably because you heard it wrong. There isn’t a Witch’s Grave up there. ”

” Well. I’m sure Grandpa knows better then you. He even told me where it is. So, do you want to go and see it or not? ”

” Fine. But if there’s no grave you have to help Grandpa in the garden. He’s pulling weeds today. And he does it all by hand so as to not accidently hurt the plants in the garden. He’s funny about that you know. ”

Kimberly took another bite of her eggs ( oh god, how can she do that? ) and chewed. ” Fine. ”

I watched her swallow her bite of egg and my stomach did a summersault. ” Well, hurry up then ” I looked at her plate ” and finish that. ”

 

After we cleared up and got our shoes on, we headed for trail to the Witch’s Grave that was somewhere, according to my cousin up on The Witch’s Bluff under a tree that had been nearly split in half by a lightning strike.

” Really? ” I asked ” it was blown in half by lighting? ”

Kimberly stopped and smirked at me- and wouldn’t you know it? She looked more like her Mom then ever. I’ve always hated Sophie and to be honest I didn’t think much of Kimberly either.

Kimberly trotted ahead of me, swinging her ponytail from side to side and telling me all about Grandpa and Grandma.

Like she could tell me anything that I didn’t already know.

 

When we came up on the tree, I could see why you would think a witch would be buried there. It was an awful sight.

The tree was nearly split in half and it’s twisted and blackened arms were curved upwards. Here and there there were patches of moss on it’s bisected trunk and I was pretty sure that when the wind blew the tree creaked and groaned like the floorboards in an old and empty house.

” I wonder where it is? ” Kimberly started to shuffle around the tree. She kicked at stones and then she asked me. ” Help me look for it. ”

I could still taste those oily eggs and that awful cast iron skillet. I turned my head and spit.

” Gross Vicky. ”

Kimberly was kicking at rocks and clumps of dead wet leaves and the more she rooted around the tree the more I could taste that breakfast.

So I kept spitting and I swear, I was about to crazy because that taste in my mouth only got worse by the second.

” What is the matter with you? ” Kimberly shouted at me. ” You’re gross!”

” I told that fool to not use that cast iron skillet! ”

Kimberly stopped moving around. I think she may have even stopped breathing. ” What fool? ”

” My Son. My silly stupid son. But my daughter. She does as she’s told. I told her I wanted a decent breakfast and she saw to it I’m going to have one- Kimberly. ”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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