Free The Witches Of Denmark by Aiden James

our house when it was the centerpiece for a small horse farm. The Beauregards, an older couple who visited Denmark twice a year for just a few days each time, owned the red brick replica of our place. Thankfully, as we had yet to meet them, they were nowhere around that afternoon. Otherwise, they might’ve had the unsettling sight of my grandfather passing by the upstairs and attic windows on his way to the highest roof in the three-story building, the highest vantage point in our entire neighborhood.
    And, I’m not saying he climbed a ladder to reach the roof’s apex.
    Back in Chicago, I had heard he used to hang out with the chimney sweeps near downtown toward the end of the nineteenth century. Even today, there are chimney sweeps throughout the greater Chicago area, although they don’t look like the guys in Mary Poppins anymore. In fact, most are skilled masons who can repair and restore chimneys to the way they looked when first built.
    “Grandpa—what in the hell are you doing up there?!” I called to him quietly; not wanting to yell for fear the neighbors would notice him. They might have already, but the tall trees and summer’s thick foliage provided a better chance that no one was the wiser about a middle-aged man sitting next to the tallest chimney. “This isn’t Chicago, you know!”
    “It isn’t?” he teased. I heard him laugh as he stood up and leaped onto the very top of the chimney. “I’m glad it isn’t! The views, Sebastian… they are incredible from up here! In fact, I can see for several miles… maybe more. Do you know how wonderful it is to not have one’s view encumbered by smog and skyscrapers, or a damned church steeple? This is heavenly!”
    I didn’t know how to react, or remotely what to say to him. Other than what stumbled out of my mouth.
    “Mom and Grandma are gonna kill you when they find out you’re up there!” I said, half-tempted to run in the house and get my father to come outside. Something bad was going to come of this—I could feel it. And, no, it didn’t make complete sense to be so apprehensive. After all, if Grandpa fell, he would likely land lightly on his feet, and if he didn’t, he might get a few scrapes or bruises. But that would be it. “Why can’t you at least stick to your own roof? That would at least be easier to explain.”
    “The view , Sebastian!” He pointed around him, and I now feared his excited agitation would make him more noticeable. The situation was getting worse by the moment. “I love that house—you know it. But the views from the roof suck! Big time—isn’t that the way you youngsters put it? Yeah… the views suck big time!”
    “Georghe?... Georghe! Get down from there now!”
    As I feared, Grandma figured out what was happening. I wasn’t aware of the back door opening; nor did I hear the screen door open after it, until it cracked loudly against the doorframe. But by then, my grandmother had already rebuked the old man presently dancing like U2’s Bono across the roof’s narrow crest.
    “He won’t listen to me,” I told her, dismayed at what I thought for sure would be the Radus coming out party—as the crazy sons of bitches residing in Old Dominion’s ‘big white elephant’ on the corner. Destined to not only face the scorn of the conservative faction of the neighborhood, but also earn their fear. Hell, it would likely earn everyone’s fear! Crazy was one thing, but adding the aspect of bizarre to it would certainly hasten our departure. Then again… maybe that wouldn’t be so bad in the long term….
    “Well, damn it, he’ll listen to me if I have to fly up there and bring his ass down here!” Grandma looked seriously incensed. She certainly intended to follow up on her threat in the literal sense.
    Great… just frigging great! The whole damned neighborhood and probably the local police could soon be treated to a nice big taste of weird, Radu style. Might as well invite the sheriff and mayor while