Broomstick Tales: Nobody’s Witch

By Arnie Grimm

Agnes and Harriet are two witches that own a magical potion shop in the town of Broomstick. Harriet was always seeking adventures. Agnes was happy with running the potion shop and telling fortunes with her crystal ball.

“I’m bored. Nothing ever exciting happens around here. I want to go on an adventure,” said Harriet with her head slumped into her hands resting on her elbows on the counter.

“You want some adventure? Just watch that door. Your next adventure will walk through that door soon enough. And beware for what you ask for. You may not like what you get,” said Agnes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665518079

Arnie Grimm

Arnie Grimm and Wazoo the Wizard have conjured up a thrilling tale of dark magic that has a lasting effect over time, better known as a lingering curse after death. Arnie Grimm is once again listening to his imaginary friend Wazoo the Wizard tell stories while sitting in the Poison Apple Tavern. Does that mean Arnie Grimm is sitting there in the Poison Apple Tavern listening along with the other patrons of the Tavern while Wazoo spins his tales? Of course the Poison Apple Tavern and the town of Broomstick only exist in Arnie Grimm’s mind, says Arnie Grimm. Ha ha ha ha, laughed Wazoo the Wizard in the background knowing the magical world really exist and Arnie Grimm is drowning deep in the middle of it.

Book preview

Chapter One

Let the Haunting Begin

T here is a quiet town in America and its name is Broomstick. Strange as it may seem, the rest of the country goes about its business circumventing the whole area of Shadow Creek Valley where this town lies. The only reason that I could come up with is that it may be because strange things have happened to those that have passed through the town of Broomstick.

One doesn’t have to do magic to live there, but it helps. One doesn’t have to be a witch or a wizard to live there, but it helps. And one doesn’t have to even know that there is magic going on all around the town to live there, but if you knew, you wish you didn’t.

In a certain part of town there are specialty stores like magical apparel clothing stores, potions supplies, antiquity stores, healing clinics, and clairvoyant parlors.

These business establishments had very unusual names to say the least. They are Astradom Obsession, Edna’s Antiquities, Moonlite and Spiders Crossquarter Festival Glow-in-the-Dark supply store, and Big Bang Ariel Haven.

The one shop that I am favored to visiting is the Hidden Quiddity Potion Shop. It is owned by two sisters, Agnes and Harriet. This is the one shop that if you can’t find it anywhere else, they have it or they know how to get it. Did I forget to mention, Agnes and Harriet are witches.

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If you are ever in trouble in the magical world, just dial Q on a rotatory phone. Oh and who am I you ask? I’m your storyteller. I am Wazoo the Wizard and this Broomstick Tale is called Nobody’s Witch.

Harriet was standing at the counter one slow afternoon thumbing through a novelty newsmagazine called ‘Once in a Lifetime Job Opportunity’.

I’m bored. Nothing ever exciting happens around here. I want to go on an adventure, said Harriet with her head slumped into her hands resting on her elbows on the counter.

Agnes was putting some new potion bottles on the shelf. Nothing ever happens around here, how about the time when you caught that robber and threatened him with spiders?

Blah that was too long ago stated Harriet. Then she started to read from her news magazine, How about this, a tour of the caverns at the center of the earth? Travel with a certified tour guide through the mystery caves and caverns that lead down to the center of the earth where exotic lava tubes open up into lush steamy forest.

Expect to be gone for a decade or more, said Agnes.

Or this one, learn to be a master hunter of nocturnal blood sucking soulless Vampires. Experience the thrill of opening their coffins and pounding the curse killing stakes into their retched black hearts, read Harriet with a little drama in her voice.

It’s fake. There are no such things as vampires, said Agnes.

Okay, sign aboard the zeppelin pirate ship ‘The Raging Queen’ under the command of Mindy Herzog. Plunder the mysterious realms of lost and hidden treasures as one of the crew and bring home your share of the bounty, Harriet read with enthusiasm and a pirate like voice.

Play pirate with my daughter until the crew put a noose around our necks and hang us. No thanks, said Agnes. You want some adventure? Just watch that door. Your next adventure will walk through that door soon enough. And beware for what you ask for. You may not like what you get.

Oh pooh, you’re not very fun. I may not like what I get. Right now I would settle for a ghost haunt in a mysterious cemetery, said Harriet.

It was just a few minutes later the door to the potion shop opened. Harriet caught herself holding her breath as if something terrifying was about to enter. In came Witch Granny. Harriet let out her breath and relaxed.

Witch Granny really wasn’t anyone’s granny at all. She just happened to have that type of caring personality. She was an old fashion type of witch. She preferred to select her own potion ingredients as opposed to buying prepackage mixtures.

This branch of snizzle fern was picked to soon. It would cause popping and early boiling in the potion. Now smell this one. It has the strong aroma of snizzle, said Witch Granny as she stuck it under Harriet’s nose.

One of the other oddities of Witch Granny is that she insisted on a hand written receipts of everything she purchased. Harriet pulled out a receipt and sat it down over the news magazine. She began to fill out Witch Granny’s purchases.

One pound of snizzle fern, Harriet wrote.

Underneath the receipt the pen made a mark in a box on an order form. A one was written for the question, Number of ghosts for the haunting.

One dozen tarantella eggs, continued Harriet.

Again underneath the receipt the pen made a mark in a second box on the order form. In the box a one was written for the question, Number of ghost hunter’s kits.

As Witch Granny continued to do her shopping, Harriet patently wrote down on the receipt the accumulated items.

Two fiber eating slouch vines dried and seasoned with premium exotic ground turmeric, wrote Harriet.

On the form underneath the box with the question, Number of people to be haunted by the ghost, was the number two.

At the bottom of the receipt Harriet signed her name and underneath it just happened to be lined up with the space that required a signature for instant submission.

Witch Granny got her purchases and Harriet got her order for an adventure with a ghost. She may not know it but she ordered the deluxe haunting package, which meant that this ghost was not going to be that easy to get rid of.

Here you are Witch Granny, your receipt, said Harriet.

Thank you Harriet and I hope you have a wonderful adventure, said Witch Granny.

Harriet looked at Witch Granny with a puzzled look as she walked out the door. Did you hear what she said?

She hopes you have a wonderful adventure. She must have seen the news magazine under the receipt, said Agnes.

Oh yes that’s it. I don’t know why I’m jumping to conclusions, said Harriet.

What Harriet didn’t see was the pen imprint on the order form as she closed the news magazine and shoved it under the counter.

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A few days past since Harriet had unknowingly filled out the ghost haunting order form. She still had an uneasy feeling surrounding her.

I’m not sure about this, but I think the other day you might have jinxed me, said Harriet to Agnes.

Agnes was counting out figgle snicks for an order. I hardly think so. You brought this feeling upon yourself by reading that news magazine.

Look, I have goose bumps on my arms. I never get them. How do you explain that? asked Harriet.

You’re imagining things. Maybe subconsciously you want something to happen to cause an adventure, said Agnes.

Is it cold in here? I feel a shiver coming on, said Harriet.

Would you stop it, you’re jinxing yourself, said Agnes. Now you made me lose count.

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Harriet felt different things as each day passed. Then the box came with the electronic detection kit.

What did you order from that news magazine? asked Agnes.

I didn’t order anything, said Harriet.

Harriet opened the box to find inside a list of equipment. She read the list to Agnes, A compact inferred camera, a three in one paranormal instrument, a light meter, an analog sound meter, an electromagnetic force ghost detection meter, and a portable Geiger counter.

You bought a ghost hunter’s kit? asked Agnes.

No, I didn’t buy a ghost hunter’s kit, said Harriet.

It sure looks like you did, joked Agnes.

Agnes went behind the counter and pulled out the news magazine that Harriet stashed there a few days ago. On the page where Harriet had been reading was a small order form for a ghost haunting adventure.

Look at this Harriet, see where you wrote Witch Granny’s list? You imprinted through to this order form for a ghost haunting and instant ordered the ghost hunter’s kit, said Agnes.

Agnes rubbed a little graphite on the page. There’s your signature right on the order line. I don’t think you could have lined up Witch Granny’s receipt that well if you were trying.

She did it. That is why she said hope I’d have a wonderful adventure, said Harriet.

Now don’t go accusing her of your own doing. In the meantime just send the kit back and cancel the order before this goes too far, suggested Agnes.

Harriet looked at the small print at the bottom of the equipment list. It says here, ‘We strive to provide you with excellent products at a fair price, delivered as promised and with service second to none. Ghosts and associated equipment are not returnable once the haunting has begun.’ How do I know whether the haunting has started or not, queried Harriet.

Agnes picked up the ghost meter and turned it on. It instantaneously spiked in energy of EMF fluctuations detecting the presence of a ghost or ghosts. It squealed with a high pitch whistle until Agnes turned it off. I would say you are too late to return this stuff.

That isn’t any proof. We are surrounded by ghosts all the time, stated Harriet.

Suite yourself, it’s your adventure. I hope you have a wonderful experience trying to figure which ghost is haunting you, said Agnes with a diabolical grin.

Harriet retrieved the meter from Agnes and stuffed it back in the box giving her an unequivocal stare.

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It was a cold blustery day with scattered rain when the ghost of Cristee Nobody blew into Broomstick. On the front of Edna’s Antiquities shop hung a metal sign that swung back and forth with an eerie high pitch squeak giving a feeling of impending doom.

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No one could see her, although her presence was felt by all that she passed. Cristee walked into the Poison Apple Tavern and let them know she was there in obscured ways.

She blew cold air in the Tavern Keep’s left ear. He stuck his finger in it and wiggled his finger in the canal opening.

A spirit just blew cold air in my ear. You know what that means, someone is in for a haunting, said the Tavern Keep.

Then Bee’s side was tickled. It almost caused her to drop a tray of batwing soup lunch orders on a small gathering of witches.

As wizards and witches came and went from the tavern things kept occurring that annoyed the Tavern Keep. Cristee would brush by them leaving chilling cold spots. She would poke them as they sipped a drink or took a bite of food.

Some of the wizards and witches came into the Hidden Quiddity Potion Shop complaining about the ghost that was haunting the Poison Apple Tavern.

I need something to remove this food stain from my robe, said one wizard. That pesky ghost dumped my plate right in my lap.

A witch commented on the shenanigans the ghost was playing over at the tavern. It poked, and pushed things around causing stuff to fall on the floor for Bee and her sisters to clean up.

Agnes called over from the other side of the shop to Harriet. I think your ghost has blown into town. Why don’t you take one of your electronic ghost hunting gizmos over there and see what you can find out.

You would like that. A grown witch on a ghost hunt with these toys instead of using magic, said Harriet. They would get a good laugh if I came busting into the tavern waving this gadget around. Hey, I’ll wait until Winston is there with his buddies. Now that would be fun.

Harriet laughed to herself with a very sinister witch’s giggle, Hee, hee, hee.

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In the late afternoon a particular group of wizards came in everyday after work at City Hall. This group included Mayor Winston Wisestone, hand fasted wizard to our favorite witch Harriet.

As soon as Winston walked in a commotion broke out near the end of the bar. A series of ale mugs were systematically dropped and broken on the floor in a circle.

Bee said with a stunned voice, It’s a ghost witch. She is making her circle to select her quarry.

The Tavern Keep couldn’t get near the circle to clean up the broken glass. Bee and her sisters were certified mediums and are called upon from time to time resolve ghost matters.

They refuse to do any exorcisms as that is equated with soulless creatures, not ghosts. They formed a triangle on the outside of the circle in an attempt to communicate with the ghost witch.

Spirit of the circle channel your thoughts through me and let us know what your purpose is, said Bee as she attempted to go into a trance.

Bee felt an icy push on her shoulder as if someone was pushing her out of their way. Charmain pointed at her sister’s shoulder. A sticky resin glowed in the shape of a woman’s hand.

Winston and the other wizards sat down at the large round table in the middle of the tavern. The Tavern Keep served Winston and the other wizards while they watched Bee and her sisters put on their display of amusing witchy theatrics.

The wizards were laughing at the spectacle as she pulled out the empty chairs from their table. The spectacle stopped behind Winston and pulled his chair out. Winston tried to move his chair in. There was a resistance as though someone was sitting in his lap like Harriet would do on occasions.

Cristee Nobody sat on Winston’s lap rubbing his forehead. Winston kept pushing his hair out of his eyes not realizing that a ghost was the cause of his disturbance.

It was one of the other wizards that noticed the reflection of a woman’s face with short black hair and pale skin on his glass ale mug when he picked it up. Hey Winston, you have a woman sitting on your lap kissing your face.

The wizards stared at Winston’s Cheeks. On Winston’s cheeks were icy red spots that looked like lips.

The double doors of the tavern swung opened letting the afternoon sun gleam onto the scene. Harriet stood there with a compact inferred camera in her hand. She moved it around the tavern until she stopped at Winston. Staring at her husband with the IR camera pointed straight at him she said, You picked the wrong wizard to attach yourself to, and the right witch to send you back to your deep cold lonely grave.

Chapter Two

My Name is Nobody

C ristee was born on March twenty ninth, smoke and mirrors day, which might explain some of the unfortunate events of her life. You see on the day Cristee was born the Festival of Smoke and Mirrors showed up in Fireside, Ohio with one particular couple that was expecting a baby.

This couple left the festival and bought a small farmhouse in Fireside, Ohio to hide away from a bounty hunter