I suppose you want to know if I gathered the shreds of hope about me enough to trust in Frank. Would we marry? Would the town overlook my witchy side?
There was also the question of the outcome for the men who falsified my past. Would the town’s judgement board cast them out or jail them? Would those two liars and do-no-goods retreat or be taken away from my presence — or would they keep returning to plague me for evermore?
Some of you will ask what is to happen between the doctor and Mrs. Penn? Will romance flow into both their hearts in equal measure? Will Mrs. Penn’s abilities in witchcraft strengthen with Willow’s presence and mine? I have heard that such can happen. Would the good doctor marry a witch?
How will Frances like school next month, and will he adjust to being among children of his own age? Will the students mock him for being the son of a murderer? That opens up another question: what will happen to the boys’ father? The sentencing is yet to come. Will a legal case like that rip away the healing scars and cast the boys back into the gloominess they’d dwelt in such a short time before?
As if that were not enough to send me nightmares, I worry about what Mrs. Penn’s daughter will say about the dear lady wanting to adopt me? Will her daughter rage with jealousy and bitterness, storming into Tinker Town like a spinning tornado, eager to chase me away? Will her heart be stone, even when she sees the sweetness of the boys? And, I must not forget that since Mrs. Penn has witch heritage, her daughter may also have that potential. Will an angry, untrained witch be just one more threat that forces me to jump on Frey and gallop out of town?
If all those problems would suddenly disappear, then I’d ask Mother Earth if she’d help Willow and me to find the rare relationship of a fully grown witch and her familiar. Will I one day be able to communicate with Willow as Mrs. Penn already can? If that should come to pass, then would my magic bloom inside me and allow me to brew tonics and potions like Old Mother could?
There are so many questions I have about the future, but since I cannot read tea leaves or routinely dream prophesies of what the Fates are bringing. Like all the rest of us, I can only cross my thumbs and murmur the old children’s saying:
Wishing and washing, cat in the tree
Tell of the fortune that belongs to me
May it be good. May it bring smiles
Else I shall run for miles and miles.
Except Mrs. Penn told me sternly that I can’t keep running. She said I must learn to take the good with the bad. With her eyes crinkled into lines that spoke of love, she held my hand and whispered, “A woman who wants to give you a name and to form us into a family, a man who wants to marry you and will cherish you as you deserve, children who already adore you and call you their mother, your good buddy, Frey, and this precious little kitty, Willow. Those are the building blocks of your happiness, Shama, if only you will make it so.”
I think she was right. That’s why I didn’t run away. I gave my trust to Tinker Town. Maybe as Mrs. Penn said, happiness is worth a little pain. And besides, there’s Frank, who despite his occasional disbelief, sometimes kisses me, smiles into my eyes with love, encourages me, and now speaks of our future. And if I’m truthful in my heart, although I quiver in fear, a kernel of hope is growing. The potential of what Mrs. Penn saw for me, for all of us, is a carrot too wondrous to ignore.
I will let you know how my story continues, whether Tinker Town can give me a home and a place to grow the roots that were ripped away so cruelly. But that tale is no more than a promise, and I will continue it in:
A Witchling in Tinker Town
Book 2 in the Shama Series