7.21 The Witchling Shama

“Right after breakfast, we’re going clothes shopping,” Mrs. Penn said. “I’m sorry, Shama, but you’ll have to wear those old boots of yours. You can’t walk into stores without any shoes on.”

I was eating my pancakes with a fork, as was proper, but I wished I could take each pancake and roll it up. Since I never used butter or syrup, pancakes just tasted better like that. But I knew that in towns there was a certain decorum. I cut another piece of the cake and inserted it into my mouth. Then, I nodded to Mrs. Penn that I understood and would wear the boots.

I praised both the pancakes and the coffee. Then the boys and Officer Krugle did as well.

“What about your family?” I asked, realizing that I’d never once asked about her children or a husband. “Don’t you need to fix breakfast for them?”

“My husband passed on a good five years ago. We had a flu epidemic that took out quite a few of the people in town. I only raised one daughter. Sheila lives in Tamehold, which is a small town about five miles away. She visits with her two children now and then. So if you’re feeling guilty about my spending time with you, don’t. I usually occupy my days at the orphanage or socialize with the other old biddies like myself.”

“What’s a biddy?” Carlo asked before I had the chance to assure Mrs. Penn that she wasn’t old.

I knew that a biddy was a hen, but some people used it as a derogatory word for a silly old woman. I wasn’t about to define the word for the boys. I handed it over to the officer. He was finished with his breakfast. Let him rush to the rescue.

He gave me another of his famous foul looks, sipped the last dregs of his coffee, then started telling the boys it was a word that meant someone’s aunt.

I raised my eyebrows at that, but I said nothing. I’d finished my pancakes and coffee, so I collected the plates and placed them in the sink. Mrs. Penn had already filled it with soapy water, so I rolled up my sleeves and started to wash up.

“Just leave those to me, Shama. If you need to wipe off your boots now would be a good time. When the boys finish their milk and brush their teeth, we can all leave. I bought new teeth cleaners for all three of you,” she said, giving the boys a stern look that made them both pick up their glasses and empty them.

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *