Showing posts with label Kay Donnelly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kay Donnelly. Show all posts

Monday, 2 November 2020

Trick or Treat

 

by Kay Donnelly 

fizzy pink lemonade



The woman who lives next door to us is a witch.  She warned me  not to tell anyone, so that is why I am writing it down.  You couldn’t say that was telling, really, could you?  

You see, I was always kicking my ball,‘accidently’ into her garden  to see what was going on, as I had my suspicions.  First of all, she wore different clothes to anyone else.  As well as that, she always looked at me like she could tell exactly what I was thinking and what really drove me crazy was, that even though I always knew where I had kicked my ball, when I got into her garden, it had always moved to a different spot.  But I could never find any real proof that she was a witch.

 

I am only 10 years old but I am not stupid and I know a mystery when I see one.  Our next door neighbour was a mystery and my mission was to solve it.

I never before had the guts to ring at her door at Halloween but  although I was really scared, this year I figured out that it was the only chance I had of ever getting into her house.  I made my mind up, I was going to be brave and face the dragon in her den.  

 

My sister and I were trick n’ treating up and down our street but my sister wouldn’t go inside our next door neighbour’s gate with me, even though I said I would give her a packet of Smarties. Well, I gathered all my courage together and marched right up the path and knocked at her door. 

 

When ‘Witchiepoo’ came out, I said, “Trick or Treat”.  
“Come in come in, come in, my don’t you look great in your Vampire outfit” she said.  
I thought she was a bit too friendly but anyway, I stepped into the hall and she brought me into the kitchen. I waited for her to bring out a bowl or basket of treats like everyone else but that’s not what happened.  Instead she looked at me with those staring green eyes and surprised me by saying, “Trick”. 
 I looked at her like as if she had two heads because that’s not what adults are supposed to say.   I tried again.  “Trick or Treat.” She got the answer wrong again, “Trick” she said
.  
We both stood there looking at one another. We were not strangers.  She was living there for three years now and she knew me and I knew her. But there we were, sizing one another up and down and I don’t know about her but I certainly was wondering what was going to happen next.  I looked out the window to see if my sister was watching at the gate but she was gone across the road to the next house. That’s sisters for ya, never there when you need them.

“Well,” Witchiepoo said, “what’s keeping you, I said trick, so go ahead and do your best trick for me.”  
I knew she was not playing the game properly but I couldn’t figure out what my next move should be.  No one had ever said, “Trick” to me before.  I was going to kill my Mother when I got home, because she never warned me “ Make sure you have a trick ready if someone asks you to do one.”  It was all her fault that I was stuck in this ‘tricky’ situation, if you see what I mean. 

 Witchipoo was getting impatient “ Well if you don’t have any trick for me that’s just too bad; no treats for you tonight.”

I suddenly remembered a trick my grandfather had taught me. He was a bit of a magician one time  and loved to show off whenever he got the chance.  He would never explain how he did his magic tricks except this one time when it was just the two of us alone. I begged him so much to show me one of his tricks that he finally gave in and explained how to do the disappearing penny trick. It took a lot of practice but I stuck at it until I got the knack. For a while I had great fun trying it out on my friends. I became a bit of an expert at it but then everyone got bored, so I stopped doing it and forgot all about it.

Witchiepoo had a smug look on her face but it disappeared when I said  “If I can do a trick now will you give me some treats.”
 
“It had better be good one” she said.  

I rooted around in my pockets until I found a coin. Copying the jargon that my grandfather used, I held the coin on edge, between the thumb and first finger of my left hand, balancing it carefully. “Keep your eye on the coin,” I said, as I crossed my other hand over and back around the penny saying,  “Abra, Abra Abracadabra!” I pretended to take the coin into my right hand, but the trick is to ‘palm it’ (magician’s lingo) in the left one. Then thrusting my right hand into the air, I pretended to throw the coin into space, opening my hand to show it was empty.  

“It’s gone off somewhere in the room and it is moving around” I said ,“Look I think I see it moving across the top of the dresser and down the wall.”  While her eyes followed  where I was pointing, I secretly  placed the coin, which I had kept in my other hand, under the cushion of a chair near me.

“Watch it now” I said “It is moving down the side of the wall and coming across the floor and it just jumped up on that chair! Look under the cushion if you don’t believe me.” I knew I had really tricked her by the look on her face.  
 
She got up and made her way over to the chair. “This chair,” she said, “and this cushion?” 
 
“Yes,” I said waiting for the surprise she was going to get.

She slowly lifted the cushion. I nearly jumped out of my skin as instead of my coin, a big black toad hopped out from under the cushion on to my lap.  I jumped , dropped my bucket of treats and ran for the door. The last words I heard were, “Promise you won’t  tell anyone my secret or else…” 
I didn’t even look behind me but I could hear Witchiepoo laughing her heart out.  That was the day I found out she was a real witch. Don’t tell anyone.


Monday, 12 October 2020

The magic Circle

 

by  Kay Donnelly

ginger ale on ice


I couldn’t believe my eyes. There in front of me was a stone circle, beautifully made with selected stones from the beach.  I was always curious about  where the local witches held their outdoor rituals and now at last, it looked like I had found one of those places. At Halloween they do their Samhain Ritual on a small beach, surrounded by walls, in the middle of town with up to two hundred people watching them chant and dance around a cauldron.  Most people think they are just acting but I know they are all practising witches.  Nobody knows where all the other rituals take place.

 

It was a hot summer evening in late July.  Not a breath of a breeze anywhere.  I couldn’t stay in the house any longer.  I had opened every window and door to try and create a draft but nothing stirred.  In the end I figured out the only way to cool down was to go  somewhere near the sea, where surely, the movement of the waves would move the lazy air into some kind of circulation.

But where to go? That was the problem. The two popular beaches near me would be invaded by desperate people all looking for the elusive breeze.  Inspiration: I had a flashback to an evening, many years ago when two young lovers, looking for someplace out of the public eye,  had discovered a hidden cove. It was hard to get to, but well worth the effort when we saw what was at the end of the trail. We had been driving around, keeping an eye on the coastline.  After driving down several country roads, where  grass took the part of the white line; where you couldn’t help wonder what would happen if you met something coming against you, we finally came to where the road ended. There was a locked gate across the road.
 
But we had a mission in mind and a Foxford rug and a transistor radio were not going to  be wasted.  We got out of the car, climbed over the gate and hoping we were heading in the right direction we ventured on to search for our elusive lovers hideaway. And we were not disappointed.

There was a vague kind of pathway worn through the grass and we took a gamble and followed it along for about a hundred yards. Suddenly it took a sharp turn and we could see a steep drop leading to a secluded, sheltered cove.  It was shaped like a horseshoe between two steep headlands, not a house or a sign of life anywhere. No sound except from the waves with their hypnotic motion and the seagulls squawking, on their endless search for fish. Mission accomplished.

Now, the problem was, would I be able to find the hidden cove after all these years? I knew the turn off the main road and probably I’d be OK with one or two turns after that but what then? I took a chance and filled my imagination with the reward, cool breezes and rippling waves to cool down in.  

  Heading north out of town and crossing the bridge which spans the River Blacklwater, I was keeping a good look out for my first turn off.  From that to the gate (which was still there)  I only had to turn back once.  There was no lock on the gate, but there was a notice saying that if you opened the gate, make sure you closed it again to prevent sheep from falling over the cliff.

I was glad to get out of the car. The heat, bouncing off everything around, was almost too much for me and the thought of the climb ahead and the steep narrow path to the cove was daunting.
I could vaguely hear the sound of the waves and  it made me determined to keep going. Suddenly I saw the turn and the dip and before I knew it I was there.  I kicked off my shoes and ran towards the water.

And I was not disappointed.  The tide was on its way in.  In it’s eagerness it was a little rough, just enough to make a zephyr of a breeze drift up and down along the white tips of the  waves.  I just immersed myself in the magic, walking along the surf, cooling down, feeling the tendrils of the hair at the  back of my neck dancing recklessly to join in the fun and  all the beauty and tranquility of the cove.

As I reached the far end of the beach I was looking out for the level grassy strip of ground just above sea level where the young lovers had thrown down the Foxford rug and turned on the music and escaped into a world of their own.  Suddenly I saw it, right where I remembered it should be. I left the cooling sea and climbed up the slight incline of sand dunes.

It was then I saw the  stones.  All much the same size, making a huge circle with a small opening  inviting me in.  I couldn’t believe my luck . A real magic circle. My imagination ran away with me. I could see them, all thirteen of them, making their way here on the night of the full moon to celebrate their Goddess, the waves aiding their chanting as they honoured the forces of nature .

   

I was disturbed from my reverie by the barking of a dog and I dragged myself back to reality.  There was a collie jumping in and out of the waves, and a girl getting splashed all over by his antics.  She looked to be about eight or nine years old and I could see a woman higher up on the beach sitting on a large stone, keeping an eye on them.
 
As the girl got nearer she suddenly saw me and ran out of the water up towards the circle with the collie following behind. 
 
“Hello there” I said. “You are having great fun with your dog”
 
"Oh he loves the water” she said, “Do you like our circle?”
 
Never, I thought to myself she is too young to be a witch, but then again….
 
“Your Circle?’’ I said.
 
“Yes, last Friday, before we broke up for our summer holidays, our teacher brought us down here for a picnic and we decided to make a big circle to sit around in, just for fun you know.”

About the author 

Kay is a member of her local historical group and has had articles on local history published in her local paper and the Cork Holly Bough. She also has a story long-listed for her county library annual publication ‘FROM THE WELL" coming out in the Autumn.

Tuesday, 15 September 2020

Ace Of Hearts

by Kay Donnelly


Irish Coffee


I had my eye on you the very first night you joined our club.
Suddenly Bridge had become more interesting.
But how to attract your attention, that was the problem.
Must develop a strategy,
Be ready for the night our paths would cross,
As cross they must.
I took lessons in secret, learned a trick or two and waited.
At last the night came when we met at table six.
You were North and I was West,
Bidding like a demon, but you won the auction :
Four Hearts—Vulnerable, Game on.
You finessed, you ruffed, you trumped,
But I had a trick or two up my sleeve.
Result, you were down one.
“You should have made the contract”
Your partner said.
I looked you straight in the eye,
“Bad break of the cards” I said,
‘I had all the hearts.’
Looking at me intently, for the first time,
“Well Defended” you smiled,
“We must have a game  some night soon.”
Mission accomplished, 
Let the games begin.