Free Time of the Witch by Mary Downing Hahn Page A

something."
    I stared at her, puzzled. "What's brave about that? The way it turned out, it was just plain stupid, not brave."
    Kissing my cheek, Aunt Grace sent me upstairs. "It's more than I ever did," she said softly.
    I looked back at her, but she had already turned away. I stood still for a moment, listening to her footsteps, and then I went upstairs quietly, taking care not to wake Jason.
    As soon as I was in bed, I curled up into a tight ball under the covers and tried not to think about Maude and my promise to visit her. I was glad she'd said I could bring Wanda with me, but I wasn't sure Wanda would come. She hadn't shown much courage walking me home and it was hard to imagine her actually going to Maude's house.
    I fell asleep worrying about Wanda and when I woke up the sun was shining in my eyes, a sure sign that it was after ten o'clock already. As usual, I could hear Jason chattering away in the kitchen, and I smiled, thinking how happy he would be when Mom and Dad came to get us.
    Looking at the dresser, I saw the picture I needed. I'd taken it last summer at Ocean City with the little Instamatic camera Daddy had given me for my tenth birthday. In it, Mom and Dad, dressed in bathing suits, smiled at me, a little out of focus, the sun in their eyes, but looking as happy as anyone on a vacation should look. If the truth were known, they'd been quarreling about something before I'd gotten out my camera, but they'd smiled for the picture. Dad had even put his arm around Mom, making them look like a honeymoon couple instead of the parents of two kids, one of whom was pouting in the background, his back turned, his head bent over his sand bucket.
    After I got dressed, I went into Jason's room. Although he hadn't been here very long, he'd already duplicated his room at home. Clothes on the floor, toys and books scattered everywhere, Lego pieces cleverly strewn about in places most likely to injure your bare feet, the bed as rumpled as if an elephant had slept in it.
    Selecting a Matchbox car from one of many parked in and around a Lego garage, I went back to my room and hid it in my underwear drawer, next to the photograph of Mom and Dad. Now all I needed was one of Aunt Grace's brushes.
    Downstairs, Aunt Grace and Jason were washing the dishes. "Laura," Aunt Grace asked, "do you want to go into Blue Hollow with Jason and me? I have to do some grocery shopping."
    "No, not today." I sat down at the table to drink a glass of orange jurice. "I promised Wanda I'd come over and help her with Tanya Marie."
    "Is that Charlene's baby?" Aunt Grace asked.
    I nodded. "She's really cute, but she's kind of a pain. Wanda gets stuck with her all the time, which doesn't seem too fair to me."
    "Poor Charlene doesn't have much choice. She has to work. Annabelle's got some kind of a pension, but I don't think it amounts to much."
    "When Charlene and Eddie get married, things'll be a lot better," I said.
    "Is Charlene getting married? I thought the baby's father disappeared." Aunt Grace stared at me, surprised.
    "Maude's bringing him back," Jason said.
    "Maude?" Aunt Grace said. "Did Charlene go to Maude? I thought she had more sense than that."
    "That's what Wanda told us," I said, thinking fast. Taking my glass to the sink, I gave Jason a quick pinch
on the arm to remind him to keep his mouth shut. "She says lots of people go to Maude for help with stuff like that."
    Aunt Grace shook her head. "I had no idea people still believed in that nonsense. What's the matter, Jason?"
    Jason was rubbing his arm and whimpering. "Nothing," he whined, edging away from me.
    "Well, you have a nice time at Wanda's, Laura. We'll be back sometime after lunch." After gathering her purse and her car keys, Aunt Grace herded Jason out the door.
    As soon as I heard the station wagon pull away from the house, I darted across the room to Aunt Grace's drawing table. Barely glancing at the unfinished painting of a fern lying there, I grabbed a small brush from an