by the window with one hand and gripping the plush blue seat with the other. Speed limits were merely a suggestion in Lena’s world. I swear as we rounded the corners, the car tipped up on two wheels. When I said this out loud, Lena told me to stop being so dramatic.
“You’ll thank me when we get there and get this taken care of quickly,” she said, speeding up as the light in front of us changed from green to yellow.
“Here, eat this.” Aunt Erma handed small squares to me and Lena before popping one into her own mouth.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It will protect you,” Aunt Erma answered.
“From what, a car accident?” I asked.
“The magic.”
I inspected the square before eating it. It was white with little green flecks in it. Was it part of the tree? I glanced at Aunt Erma and she gave me a sharp look, confirming my suspicion. I took a tentative bite. It tasted like salt-water taffy, so I put the rest in my mouth and chewed. I always expected to hear wind chimes when I ate something magical, but to this date that had not happened.
In between muttering wishes for a safe arrival, I asked about the plan.
“What happens if we find the Drakes?”
“We play a game of shake the Drakes,” Lena said in such a deep, sinister voice that despite my nerves I couldn’t help but laugh.
“If we see the Drakes, you, Susie, will call Violet,” Aunt Erma began. “And you, Lena, will detain Stan and Dennis. I will take care of Brenda.”
Why did I always end up with the lamest jobs? While others would go down in history books for saving the world and taking down the bad guys, I would be credited in the footnotes for making a phone call.
We squealed into a parking spot on the street at the edge of town.
“We should walk in so we can sneak up on what’s happening. Get a feel for what we’re getting into,” Aunt Erma suggested.
“Everyone take note of where we parked in case we get separated.” Lena pointed to the street signs on the corner. My stomach flipped. In case we got separated? That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I began to regret my insistence to come along. I glanced at Aunt Erma, and she reached over and squeezed my arm. For a moment I felt as if everything was going to be okay.
I was on high alert. My ears strained to hear something that sounded like evil magic. It was quiet except for the wind that whistled around the buildings. A paper bag blew by like a tumbleweed. By this time of day, the streets should have been bustling. It felt like a scene from a horror movie but even more surreal. I scanned the windows of every building we passed and braced myself in case Brenda’s face appeared. We peeked into a bakery. It should have been full of people buying their bread and doughnuts, but it was empty.
I positioned myself in the middle as we walked shoulder to shoulder towards the center of town and resisted the urge to reach out and grab Aunt Erma’s hand for protection.
“Where is everyone?” I whispered. The layout of the town was similar to Hocus Hills except their town square was a little smaller, and there was a duck pond near the gazebo.
Lena shrugged.
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good,” Aunt Erma said.
I stopped in my tracks. “I hear something,” I said. They both stopped, and I held my breath as we listened. There was a sound coming from the church.
“We need more yarn,” we heard a deep voice yell. The church was a large white wooden building with steps leading up to a set of dark wood double doors. We crept up the steps, and Lena pushed the door open a crack. She peeked inside.
“I think we found everyone,” she said, pushing the door the rest of the way open.
The church was jam-packed with people of all ages. It was a flurry of activity, but I couldn’t figure out what they were doing. Some people were rushing around the room picking up skeins of yarn and moving them from one pew to another. Several people were knitting. Knitting? This seemed like more than just a quirky small-town activity. There was a large red circle that looked like a knitted parachute. People were working on different edges.
“What are they making?” Lena wondered aloud.
“A mitten,” a man with an armload of yarn balls yelled as he rushed past us.
“The world’s largest,” one of the women who was knitting called.
“Are the Drakes here?” The room was packed, but I didn’t see any sign of them.
Aunt Erma shook her head. “I don’t feel their magic. It’s strange that they’re not here though.” She looked a little uneasy, and I took a small step closer to her.
“Why is everyone knitting?” I asked. I almost felt dizzy from the hysteria around us.
“It must be part of the spell,” Aunt Erma said.
“But why?” I asked. It seemed like such a strange activity, and not at all in line with their ultimate goal of more power.
“It’s probably an accident,” Aunt Erma said. “They’re too power hungry to focus on getting the spell right. They’re frenzied as they alter the spices. It’s very hard to get the intention right – takes a lot of finesse. That’s why you should always keep it simple.” She was speaking to me now. I wasn’t sure it was the time for a magic lesson, but I nodded as I looked around at the chaos. I certainly didn’t ever want this to happen.
“How are we going to break the spell?” Lena asked, jumping out of the way of a frantic boy who was chasing the yarn balls he had just dropped as they rolled across the floor.
“Do we need to break it?” I asked, looking around. I mean, what they were doing was crazy, but it didn’t seem to be harmful. Unless they started capturing people inside the giant mitten once they finished knitting it.
“It could be dangerous to leave them like this. They won’t be able to stop until they’ve finished no matter how tired they are, and some of them could actually work themselves to death,” Aunt Erma said. Okay, that sounded bad. She was surveying the scene intently. “Lena, do you have them?”
“I told you you’d need me,” she said as she fished around in her yellow purse. She set it on the floor, and her whole head disappeared as she leaned into it. I was tempted to grab her feet, so she wouldn’t fall in. I didn’t know what exactly was inside there. I had asked her once how the magic purse worked. Was it just like a closet or was there a whole house inside?
“Oh no, dear, I couldn’t tell you that. Your aunt may be ready to divulge all of her secrets, but I like to keep one or two up my sleeve,” she had said.
“Ah, yes, here it is.” Her muffled voice emerged from the purse a second before she did. She triumphantly held up a stack of Erma’s Pies boxes.
“You keep pie in there?” I asked.
“You never know when you’ll need some,” she said. “Impromptu dinner party, afternoon snack, an antidote to stop
