Chapter 8
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY GRISELDA
By now, Griselda had gotten pretty used to human ways, but even so, she was still very much a witch. She still looked like a witch, whith her green skin, snarly wild hair, and blackhat and cape. She still cackled like a witch, although not as loudly as before. And although she had learned how to smile, she still scowled most of the time. That’s not to say she was angry or unhappy, it’s just what came most naturally to her.
Now that she had friends, she saw them often, but not every day. Although she enjoyed her visits with people, her dark woods was the only place she truly felt at home. She loved to see the bats flying at dusk, and to hear the wind howling in the trees and owls hooting at night. And her cottage was still her favorite place to work on her spells. It had spider webs to colledt flies from and her weed garden and frog pond outside. These were things she needed for making her potions.
Griselda’s stone cottage was built into the side of a hill and covered with so much moss that if you saw it, you might not notice it was a house at all. Inside the front door was one big room which serves as kitchen, workshop, and den, all in one. In the back of the room was a creaky staircase that led to the bedroom upstairs. And through a door in the floor was the entrance to the food cellar and the bat caves.
The first floor room had a black cast iron stove for cooking, and a fireplace with a cauldron in it for brewing potions. Spider webs hung from the rafters alongside bunches of dried herbs from her garden. Bottles filled with strange ingredients like snake skins, fish eyes, and cat hairs filled a whole bookcase and the Encyclopedia of Witchcraft and other useful books filled another. A work table was usually cluttered with bowls, jars, mis\xing spoons, and whatever she was using for her latest project.
In the morning, Griselda would wake up, and before she got ouf of bed, would start thinking about what she wanted for breakfast. Then she would get up, go downstairs, start the fire, and cook herself some oatmeal, some eggs, some pancakes, or whatever it was she wanted to eat. The trouble was, that Griselda was always very hungry when she got up in the morning, and when she was very hungry, she became very grouchy. That’s because she needed tasty, nutritious food to make her a friendly witch.
One morning, while Griselda was grumbling to herself as she was about to get out of bed, she had an idea. Why not use her magic to cook breakfast and have it sent up to her? That way she could stay cozy and warm under the covers until she had eaten.
Now, Griselda knew lots of spells that would make breakfast for her, but for most of them she needed to be in the kitchen to start them. The one she knew that would work while she was upstairs in bed would be very tricky. In order for it to work right, she would have to imagine all the things the spell needed to do to prepare the food. Griselda closed her eyes and thought about making scrambled eggs. She imagined the door to the food cellar opening and the pile of eggs kept cool on a bed of straw inside. She imagined two eggs floatin up and through the open door into the kitchen., and she imagined the door in the floor closing. But whoops! She had forgotten to fire the stove first.
Very carefully, she imagined the egg landing gently on the work table and she imagined the magic spell for starting the fire. She imagined the frying pan coming off the shelf and onto the stove, and the bowl landing on the table.
She imagined everything she needed for scrambling those eggs. It was such hard work picturing everything in her mind, that Griselda started feeling grouch even though she was still in bed. But she was almost done.
She imagined a plate floaing off the shelf and the frying pan rising to plop the eggs onto the plate. She imagined the plate floating up the stairs, and there it was, landing gently in her lap.
But she didn’t have a fork. She had to imagine that. When the fork came she began to eat, even though she didn’t have any toast or juice. It was too much trouble to imagine them too. And the eggs weren’t even that good. The top part was a little runny. The bottom part was a little dry. This was definitely not one of Griselda’s better tricks. She’d have to think of something else.
Griselda finished her breakfast and went downstairs, ready to start her day. But oh! What a mess the kitchen was! She had forgotten to imagine cleaning up. The frying pan had burnt egg stuck to it, broken egg shells were on the stove, and somehow all the forks had gotten dumped out onto the floor.
Griselda used her magic to use her broom to work cleaning up. Then she sat down in her easy chair and thought about what to do next. She liked the idea of having breakfast in bed, but this morning’s plan didn’t work out well enough. She could move her bed into the kitchen so she could use a different spell. But no. The kitchen was crowded enough as it was. She didn’t want a bed there.
She could try to develop a spell that would teach the broom to cook for her. That would work, but she knew it would take a tremendous amount of work. “There has to be an easier way,” she thought.
Then she snapped her fingers and said, “I know. I bet I could make a potion that would take an ordinary egg and turn it into an instant omellette. Why, I’ll make it a slow acting potions so that all I have to do is pour the potion on an egg the night before, and leave the egg on my night table while I sleep. Then in the morning, all I have to do is crack open the egg, and out will drop a freshly cooked omellette onto my plate.” It was a great idea and her mouth watered just thinking of it.
Griselda took a few books off the shelf and sat down at her work table with them. She flipped through the pages, getting ideas here and there, and writing down the ingredients she would need.
Then she got the fire going in her fireplace and filled her cauldron with water from the frog pond. Then she gathered some mushrooms that grew on the hill, and took some dried parsley from a bunch hanging from a rafter. These were the ingredients that would make the omellette taste good.
Then she took down three bottles from the shelf that contained the magic ingredients. She uncorked one, which was filled with ground skeleton bones, and threw in a handful. She licked her palm to tastethe dust that was left over and smacked her lips. Then she opened another bottle and threw in some pieces of moss. They had a strange strong smell that tickled her nose. But when she opened the third bottle, the one marked “raven feathers”, it was empty.
“Oh drat,” Griselda said with an angry pout. “Now the spell won’t work.” Then she took down another book from the shelf entitled “The Magician’s Table of Substitutions” and sat down in her easy chair with it. She flipped through the pages of the book until she came to the one on raven feathers.
“Ah ha!” she said. “It says here ‘Wild turkey or chicken feathers can be substituted for raven feathers in potions of vivification. Use half a tukey feather or two chicken feathers for each raven feather called for.’ Hmmm.” Griselda didn’t know what vivification meant, but she hoped it had something to do with cooking. “I have chicken feathers.”
Griselda took the bottle marked “chicken feathers down from the shelf and uncorked the bottle. Whew, there were plenty of chicken feathers left. She took out two chicken feathers and added them to the pot.
Then she took the long stirring spoon and stirred the brew.
After a lot of stirring, the potion was done. Griselda took some on the spoon, blew on it to cool it off, stuck a gnarled finger into it, and put a drop on her tongue. “Not bad,” she said. “But it needs some salt and pepper.” She added the salt and pepper, stirred some more and said, If I put an egg in it, it will be ready in time for supper. Then I won’t have to wait for breakfast to see if it works.” So she got out an egg, placed it in a bowl, and poured some potion over it.
By now it was lunch time. As usual, Griselda was good and hungry. She was about to make herself some lunch when she remembered that she had promised her friends she would visit today. Melanie said something about there being a surprise for Marcia. Griselda grabbed her hat, cape, and broom, and a loaf of bread to nibble on, and rushed out the door.
Griselda hopped on her broom and began to fly, low at first, so she had to weave in and out between the trees. Although it was the middle of May, it was damp, dark, and cool in the woods. Griselda stayed warm with her cape draped all around her. Soon, Griselda flew higher above the tree tops. Here it was sunny and she quickly grew warm. She loosened her cape and pushed it behind her back. It flapped in the wind like a flag on a pole.
It wasn’t long before Griselda was in Somerville and she found herself at the big, yellow house her friends lived in. She landed the broom in the front yard and rang the door bell. Melanie answered the door and shouted “She’s here,” up the stairs before even saying hello.
“Come on in,” Melanie said to her. “You’re just in time.”
“For the surprise?” Griselda asked. She like surprises.
“I think you missed all the surpises,” Marcia said joining them. She was wearing a pretty skirt and blouse that were much fancier than the clothes usually wore on family days, and she had a flower pinned to her blouse. “That is, unless there are any more surprises I don’t know about yet.”
“The surprises were for Mom,” Melanie explained. “It’s Mother’s Day today, so it’s Mom’s day off.”
“It’s been wonderful,” Marcia said. “Melanie and Arielle made me breakfast and served it to me in bed.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Griselda said remembering her own disappointing breakfast. “It must be nice to have a family.”
“And now I get to go out with my favorite date,” Marcia said. “Josh and I are going to an afternoon concert at the museum. Melanie tells me you’re going to help her babysit. That’s awfully nice of you, Griselda.”
“I’ve never babysat before, Melanie said, but Mom says I’m almost old enough. She says it’ll take two of us to watch Evan. Look, he just started walking.”
Sure enough, the little boy was toddling into the room. He held pieces of toast near the sides of his head, as if he needed them for balance.
Josh was right behind him. “Look Griselda,” he said. “Evan’s growing up. Well, it’s time for us to be going. Thanks for coming to help out.”
Everyone waved goodbye as the parents went downstairs and out the door. “Ba Ba,” Even said, opening and closing his fist.
Melanie put Evan down and he toddled off. “What would you like to do today?” she asked Arielle.
Before Arielle got a chance to answer, Evan began to pull a large book off a table.
“Oh no, Evan” Melanie said, rushing over to him and taking it from him. “Let’s look at this together.”
“What is that,” Griselda asked.
“It’s our family photo album,” Melanie said. “We were looking at it earlier today.”
They all sat down on the sofa, Griselda with the book, and Arielle and Melanie on either side of her, Evan in Melanie’s lap.
“It’s a picture book,” Griselda said. “No words.”
“It’s pictures of our family,” Arielle explained.
“I see. That’s your Mom,” Griselda said pointing to one. “Who is she holding?”
“That’s me,” Arielle said.
“No, it can’t be,” Griselda said. “You’re much bigger than this little one. Even Evan is.”
“That’s because I was just born,” Arielle said. “I was a baby then.”
“You were a baby?” Griselda said surprised. “What was Evan then? Was he four years old?”
“No, Griselda,” Arielle giggled.
“Evan wasn’t even born then,” Melanie explained. “He was born a year ago. I was born 11 years ago and I was a little baby then too.”
“I see,” Griselda said slowly. “When children are born, they are very small. Then they grow bigger. They keep on growing and growing and growing and growing and then what.”
“They keep on growing until they are about as big as Mom and Dad,” Melanie explained. “Then they stop.”
“I see,” Griselda said again.
“But Griselda, didn’t you know that?,” Melanie asked. “Don’t witches have mothers and fathers and start off as babies?”
“I have a mother, but I never was a baby,” Griselda said laughing at such a preposterous idea.
“Then how did your mother have you?”
“Ah, that’s a secret I won’t be able to learn until I’m a thousand years old,” Griselda replied. “Let’s just say it takes some very strong magic that I don’t have yet. After all, I’m still a young girl of 155.”
“One hundred fifty five? How many fingers is that?” Arielle wanted to know.
“More than we have in this whole room,” Melanie told her. “Griselda, you never mentioned your mother before. Do you see her often?”
“Mother travels a lot,” Griselda answered. “The last time I saw her was 5 years ago. She had just returned from a trip to the South Seas and she told me she was planning a trip to some place called the Himalayas. Ever hear of it?”
“Yes,” said Melanie. “They’re mountains. They’re very high and have lots of snow, I think.”
“I’m hungry,” Arielle said. “I want a snack.”
“I’m hungry too,” said Griselda who had missed her lunch. “What should we have?”
“Scrambled eggs,” Arielle said. “Just like we made Mommy.”
But when they went to the kitchen, they found that the eggs were all used up. “You’ll have to have something else,” Melanie said.
“But I want eggs,” Arielle pouted.
“I have eggs at my house,” Griselda offerred. “Maybe we can go to my house and have some eggs.”
“That’s a great idea,” Arielle said, her face brightening. “We’ve never been to your house before. But how will we all get there? Melanie and Evan don’t have their own brooms.”
“Hmm,” Griselda thought for a moment, stroking her chin. “We could all fit on a magic carpet if you had one, but I don’t suppose you do.”
“No, we don’t,” Melanie said.
“I know,” Griselda said. “My cape will do just as well as a carpet. It’s a magic cape”, she said untying it. “It’s quite large so we’ll all fit.”
Melanie and Arielle were quite excited about riding on a magic cape and visiting Griselda at her house. Melanie filled a bottle for Evan to snack on during the trip and brought a box of crackers for Arielle. Then they all went outside.
Griselda lay the cape on the grass. “Make yourselves comforable,” she said. “Melanie, you hold Evan in your lap in back of me. Arielle, sit in my lap.”
They all sat down on the cape. “But Griselda, how are you going to make it go?” Arielle asked.
“Shhh,” Griselda said. “I must have quiet to perform the spell.” She shut her eyes tight and whispered, “Cappa, Caper, Capriccio.!”
The cape began to flutter and bounce but it didn’t go anywhere.
“Cappa, Caper, Capriccio, Away!” Griselda said a little louder. The cape bounced a few more times.
Griselda picked up the ribbons that tied the cape around her neck and shook them like horse’s reins and commanded, “Cappa, Caper, Cappricio, Capriole.”
With this, the back of the cape lifted up and came back down again like a bucking horse, causing Melanie and Evan to bounce forward and then backward. Then the cape leaped into the air and sored ahead.
“Is everyone still with us,?” Griselda said looking back at Melanie who was still holding onto Evan but just beginning to regain her balance. Evan started to wimper but stopped when Melanie put the bottle back into his mouth.
“I like my own broom better,” Arielle said, gripping Griselda’s arm.
“This old cape hasn’t been ridden in so long, I had to jump start it,” Griselda explained. “But it’s running fine now.” The ride was quite smooth as they rode high above the roof tops. The children looked down at the houses and cars below, which looked doll size from so far away. After a while there were no more houses, just trees, grass, and a river.
“It’s the park where we have picnics,” Melanie said.
“We’re almost there,” Griselda said. Now there were so many trees that there seemed to be no place to land. But soon there was a small clearing where a steep ravine made a clearing next to a rocky hill. The cape swooped down and landed on a flatish area with such a bump that everyone tumbled backwards, even Griselda, and Evan’s bottle rolled into a pile of leaves.
Griselda snatched it up and handed it to him before he had a chance to cry. “Where’s your house?” Melanie said, looking around at the gloomy surroundings and holding Evan close to her.
“It’s getting dark out,” Arielle said. “Is it almost night time?”
“It’s still afternoon. My house is over there,” Griselda said pointing at the hill. “Follow me.” The children followed her out of the ravine on sort of a path, past some huge boulders, around some fallen tree branches, and through a pile of dried leaves until they came to a place in the hill where they couldn’t climb any more.
“I want to go home,” Arielle said.
“Here we are,” Griselda said, pushing against the hillside, which was really the door of her cottage. “Come on in.”
The children followed. Inside it was even darker and gloomier than outside. “I’ll light the candles and it will be quite cheerful in here,” Griselda said sensing the chidren’s discomfort. She moved quickly along the walls where candles were set in sconces. She touched each candle wick with her finger tips, sending out sparks, like lightning, to light the candles. Soon the room was ablaze with light.
“So this is my happy home,” Griselda said proudly. “I don’t have any of the new fangled, modern contraptions that you folks have at your house. No TV, no food processor, no computer. I don’t need them with my magic.”
“But you have an electric broom,” Melanie said going over to one leaning against the wall.
“Why so I do,” Griselda said. “But it isn’t mine. I wonder how it got here? Nice little model,” she said examining it. “About fifty horse power, I would say.”
Just then they heard a creaking sound from somewhere above them. Footsteps were coming down the stairs.
“What’s that?” Melanie said looking frightened. Arielle ran over and clutched her legs. They all looked up and saw two big black boots appear from the top of the stairs. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The boots were coming down the stairs. Inside the boots were two skinny legs wrapped in strips of white cloth like a mummy. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Above the legs was a skinny, bent body, wearing a long orange shirt that came down above the knees. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The face above the shirt was green and at least ten times as wrinkled as Griselda’s and at least ten times as grumpy looking as the children had ever seen Griselda. Spiky gray hair grew from its head.
“Mother, what a surprise!” Griselda said. “So this is your broom.”
“Fancy isn’t it,” Griselda’s mother said. “My old one broke down on the way back from the Himalayas. I thought this time I’d go for luxury. At my age I deserve it.”
“How was your trip?” Griselda asked.
“Very educational, but exhausting,” Griselda’s mother said, entering the room. “I was upstairs taking a little nap but you woke me up. Then she caught sight of the three children. “Griselda, you wicked old thing, you” she said, breaking into a crooked grin with missing teeth. “Human children. You’re making a stew.”
“I’m doing no such thing, Mother,”Griselda protested. “These are friends of mine.”
“Very well, suit yourself,” her mother said looking grumpy again.”
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Melanie, Arielle, and Evan,” Griselda said. “Children, this is my mother, Jezebel.”
“Uh, hi,” Melanie said nervously, raising her hand in a little wave.
Jezebel raised her hand too. “Hi,” she growled. Evan, sitting in Melanie’s arms buried his head in her neck and Arielle started to cry.
“Now look what you’ve done, Mother,” Griselda said. “You scared them.”
“Of course, I scared them,” Jezebel snapped. “I’m a witch. Witches are supposed to scare people. Or have you forgotten?”
“No, Mother, I haven’t,” Griselda said. “It’s just that... Oh it’s hard to explain.”
“Well if you’re not making stew, what else do you have to eat around here,” Jezebel said. “I’m hungry.”
“We were going to have eggs,,” Griselda said. She turned towards the kitchen area and noticed the egg that she had left in the potion that morning. “Oh I nearly forgot my magic egg,” she said taking it out of the potion and placing it gently on the table. “I wonder if this is ready yet.”
“It doesn’t smell rotten enough,” Jezebel sniffed disapprovingly.
“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in my easy chair, Mother, and I’ll find you something.”
Good,” Jezebel said, plunking herself down in the chair. “I’m hungry enough to eat a whole cauldron of stew.”
“Don’t mind Mother,” Griselda said to the children as she began hunting through cupboards for something Jezebel would like. “She won’t bother you now that she know you’re my friends.”
Griselda poked around past all the nutritious foods that she had so recently learned to like to find something that would suit her mother. “Here’s a jar of jelly fish and sea slugs. I can make you a nice chowder.”
“That will take too long,” Jezebel complained. “I want to eat now.”
“I have some slime,” Griselda offerred taking out a bowl of mustardy guck with white fuzzy stuff on top, but no dried beetles to dip into it.”
“No beetles, no slime,” Jezebel said stubbornly.
“How about some crackers,” Arielle suggested. She was still clutching the box she had taken from home.
“What’s that?” Jezebel demanded.
“They’re crackly and dry, like beetles,” Griselda said. “I’m sure they will be delicious in the slime. Why don’t you try them?”
“Hmmph,” Jezebel said, peering suspiciously at the crackers. But she grabbed the box and the bowl and greedily began dipping the crackers and stuffing her mouth. “Delicious,” she said, licking her fingers and reaching in the box for more. “Go away. I don’t share.”
The children watched as Griselda poured the contents of the chowder jar in a pot on the stove. Out came seawater filled with all sorts of seaweeds, broken shells and sand, jelly fish, and other strange sea creatures. She hummed a little tune as she took some bottles from the shelf and sprinkled in some seasonings and stirred with a large spoon. “There”, she said. “While this is heating up, I’ll make our eggs.”
“What’s this egg for?” Melanie said, picking up the magic egg on the table. “Hay, it’s warm.”
“Let me see,” Arielle said, trying to grab it.
“Watch out,” Melanie said. “You’ll break it.”
“No I won’t,” Arielle said. “It’s my turn. Griselda, tell her it’s my turn.”
“Put your hands out and make a little nest for it, and then you can have a turn,” Griselda said.
Arielle held out her hands and Melanie handed her the egg.
“Ooh it tickles,” Arielle said as she cupped her hands around it. “Oh, it’s biting me.” and she let go of the egg. Luckily, Griselda’s hands were right there and caught it.
“It has a crack in it,” Griselda observed. “Something inside the egg is making it crack open. This was supposed to be an omellette, but I don’t think so.” Griselda held out the egg so everyone could see. Something hard and sharp was chipping a hole from inside the egg. They all stared in fascination, except for Jezebel. She was still in the easy chair, gobbling down crackers and slime.
“Oh my gosh, I think I know what’s happening,” Melanie said.
“What,” both Arielle and Griselda asked.
The hard, sharp thing had chipped the hole a little larger and now they could see bits of wet, yellowish hair.
“I’m not sure, but I think your omellette’s a baby chicken hatching out of it’s shell”, Melanie said.
“Well, I’ll be,” said Griselda. By now the hole was large enough that they could see that the hard sharp thing was a beak and that above it were two beady black eyes. “So chickens start off as babies too, just like humans?”
“Yes,” said Melanie. “But as you see, baby chicks look like little chickens, not like baby humans.
“So they do”, said Griselda. “Look, it’s coming out.” The chick was sticking its head out of the hole and trying to squeeze the rest of its body out. The more it pushed, the bigger the crack in the egg became, until finally the wet, limp, little chick lay shivering in Griselda’s hands.
“Well, if that doesn’t beat all,” Griselda said. “I wonder what went wrong? I was so sure this potion would work.”
“Ha,” said Jezebel, her mouth full of food. “Now I suppose you’ll be wanting some of my chowder.”
“Don’t worry, Mother,” said Griselda. I’ll make us something else. As soon as I figure out what to do with this.” She brought her hands up near her face so that she and the chick were staring at each other, eyeball to eyeball. It began making tiny peeping noises. “Cute little thing,” she said stroking its head with her finger.
“I think it might be cold,” Melanie said. “Chicks need to be kept somewhere warm.”
“Put it in the chowder,” sang out Jezebel. “That should be nice and warm by now.”
“Watch your tongue, Mother,” said Griselda. “Before I put you in the chowder.”
Jezebel made a face, but she kept her mouth shut.
“But it shouldn’t get to hot”, Melanie warned, as she saw Griselda eyeing the fire in the fireplace. “One candle should be warm enough.”
“Here’s a candle,” Griselda said nodding at one inside a ceramic jack-o-lantern.
“That’s perfect,” Melanie said. “Light the candle and put the chick in a bowl right on top of the jack-o-lantern.”
Griselda found a round
glass bowl like a fish bowl and followed Melanie’s instructions. She set the
whole thing in the middle of the table and put a jar cap filled with water in it
for the chick to drink from. “How’s this?” she asked.
“It’s a pretty good incubator,” Melanie said. “And a very original center piece.”
“I’m hungry,” said Arielle. “When are we going to eat?”
“Somehow I’m not in the mood for eggs, anymore,” said Griselda. “What do you say to some hot cocoa with bread and jam?”
“That’s yummier than eggs,” Arielle said.
Griselda reached into the cupboard for the bread, jam, cocoa, and mugs and started to prepare the snack. “Stir the chowder, would you please, Melanie” she asked.
Melanie picked up the big spoon and began stirring the bubbling brew. She wrinkled her nose when she smelled it.
There, everything’s done,” Griselda said a moment later.
“It’s about time,” Jezebel called out from the easy chair.
“Come join us at the table, Mother, Griselda said as she poured out two bowls of jelly fish chowder, a big one for Jezebel and a smaller one for herself. She served bread and jam and hot cocoa to Melanie, Arielle, and Evan. Evan got his cocoa in his bottle, cooled down with lots of milk. She took some bread, jam, and cocoa for herself too.
Jezebel sat down at the table. She took the bowl in her hands and brought it to her mouth, noilily sluping the chowder. Griselda ate hers with a spoon. “So, Mother, tell us about your trip,” Griselda said.
Jezebel put down the bowl and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Fascinating place, the Himalayas,” she said. “But cold. Spells don't work the same way when it’s that cold. But I met a village of snow witches and learned some powerful magic from them.”
Melanie, Arielle, and Evan munched and drank in fascinated silence as Jezebel told about her trip. They had never heard Griselda cackle so loudly as she did when Jezebel described the pranks she and the snow witches had played on the people living in the mountain valleys.
“You’re too much, Mother” Griselda shrieked. “You didn’t,” she howled. “Mother’s always been one of the best witches in the business,” she told the children proudly.
“And now I need a little shut eye,” she said getting up from the table. “Don’t wake me until breakfast time tomorrow.” And with that she stomped up stairs.
“Ba ba,” Evan called out when she was out of sight.
“Look at the chick,” Arielle said. They had almost forgotten about it when Jezebel was talking. But now the saw that its feathers had dried off and fluffed up and it was drinking from its water dish.
“Maybe he’s hungry,” Melanie said.
“What do you think he’d like to eat?” Griselda asked.
“Chickens eat grain,” Melanie said. “Maybe he’d like some bread crumbs.”
“We have plenty of that,” Griselda said, scooping up the crumbs on the table with one hand and the chick with the other, and bringing the two hands together so he could eat. Griselda brought her hands up close to her face to watch the chick pecking at the crumbs. When he was done eating, the chick stretched and looked up, so that it was beak to nose with Griselda. He gave a little peck at Griselda’s long green nose and began to hop around in her hand.
“He likes you, Griselda,” Melanie said.
“He thinks you’re his mother,” Arielle said.
Griselda looked at the chick. “Me, you’re mother? In a way I suppose I am.” And she looked rather pleased.
“What’s his name?” Arielle asked.
Griselda thought for a moment.
“You can call him ‘Omellette’,” Melanie suggested.
“I think not,”Griselda said. “This chick may have started out as an omellette but he’s definitely not for eating. “I think I’ll call him, ‘Buster’”.
“Buster,” Melanie repeated. “That’s a tough guy’s name. Nobody will think about eating a chicken named Buster.”
“And now it’s time to get you kids home,” Griselda said. “I wonder how Buster will like a ride on a flying cape.”
Buster took to flying very well, which might be expected because he was a bird. He rode on Griselda’s shoulder, holding on tightly with his little claws. After that, Buster went almost everywhere with Griselda, although after he got a little bigger, he usually flew on his own.
After that, Griselda
kept meaning to work on a spell to giver her breakfast in bed, but somehow she
never got around to it.