In the Shadows

“I don’t want to look at all. You may have my turns,” Cora

said, leaning her shoulder against the wood siding of the house

and staring out into the night. Her breathing was even, but

Minnie could see that she was trembling.

Thomas shrugged. “All at once. Just don’t stick your head up

any higher than you need to. Cora, keep your eyes peeled for

familiar spirits or bats or whatever it is witches employ to guard

&n

bsp; against Peeping Charleses.”

Minnie trembled, too, with either excitement or fear, which

were so often indistinguishable until afterward when she knew the

result of the event. Flanked by Arthur and Thomas, she raised her

eyes past the sill to peer into the witch’s home.

A woman, slender as a willow tree and wearing not much more

than her slip, danced madly across the room, throwing her body to

the beats of Joplin’s ragtime, her floor-length braid whipping like

a living thing. Her eyes were closed, and, though the room blazed

with lamps, Minnie couldn’t say exactly what color her hair was,

or even what she looked like. The witch was all wild movement

and snaking hair.

“What’s going on?” Cora whispered.

“She’s dancing. Have a look.” Arthur shifted over to give Cora

room, nearly knocking everyone else down. After some glares and

hisses, there was just enough room for Cora to see, too.

“She dances like you,” Charles said, punching Thomas lightly

on the back.

Minnie hoped this was weird and funny enough that perhaps

Cora would forget to be careful and frightened all the time now.

The song neared the end and, out of place with the rest of her

mad choreography, the witch climbed up onto a ladder propped