The wood floors creaked as I followed Mother down the hallway. The house wreaked of incense and mothballs. The white walls had faded into a mustard yellow from the cigarette smoke. The stale air was plagued with a mix of smoke and dust. Iron black crosses decorated the living room walls. All the windows were covered with aluminum foil casting streaks of light throughout the space. As Mother and I followed the Witch down the hallway, I kept my head low. Mother in the middle, the Witch led us through the living room to her den. The old lady took her place on the on only couch in the room, motioning for Mom and me to join her. The worn leather couch scratched my skin as I tried to squeezed close to Mother. Slowly and steadily the Witch’s wiry arms placed a worn wooden box on the wicker table. Carefully, she removed: a black feather, thick white paper, an apple, two jars and a knife. Delicately, Mother placed her arms around me and placed me onto her lap. Then Mom turned her attention to the Witch.
“Passion spells are the most dangerous to reverse. Are you sure you want to reverse the spell?” the Witch said. The Witch leaned forward, her face inches of Mothers’. The smell of cigarette smoked almost became overbearing. Her frail voice repeated the question.
“Are you sure you want to reverse the spell?”
“Yes,” Mother replied.
With a slight nod of approval, the old lady placed one jar back into the box and proceeded to pick up the apple and the knife. Expertly, she slices the apple horizontally and removed the core. Handing Mother the paper and the pen, she was informed to write out her husband’s full name and birthday. With a slow deep breath, Mother removed me from her lap, took a deep breath and proceeded to follow the instructions. Mother locked eyes with the Witch as she explained how the curse would affect Boo.
“Yes ma’am” Mother simply said.
The witch doctor smiled and got back to work. Placing the bottom half of the apple in Mother’s hand, she placed the tiny jar of salt in the other hand. Her bony fingers took a pinch of salt and sprinkled it onto the bottom half of apple. Gracefully she removed the items from Mother’s hands and placed them back on the table. Joining the apple pieces back together, she placed the candle where the core once was, securing the apple slices together.
“Kiss the paper with the name on it and then light the candle. Then wait until the candle completely melts,” the Witch directed Mother.
At once, Mother took the paper, pursed her lips and gave it a kiss. Leaving a single red pair of lips underneath her cursive handwriting. Without any hesitation, Mother struck a match, lit the candle and then we all waited.