Broomstick Tales: Ghost of a Chance at True Love

By Arnie Grimm

Sitting in the high back plush purple velvet fabric chair was the skeleton. In the right hand of the skeleton was the magic wand.
“Are you offering me your magic wand?” Amber asked the skeleton.

Get ready for a Halloween story that will keep you on the edge of your chair. Arnie Grimm and Wazoo the Wizard have conjured up a Ghostly Tale that has death defying tragedies and evil villains. Most of all, there is lots and lots of magic to save the day, maybe. Let’s hope so anyway.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665538947

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

© 2021 Arnie Grimm. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/13/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3895-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3893-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-3894-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021919350

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One

Under the Radar

Chapter Two

Emrys

Chapter Three

Ghostly Encounters

Chapter Four

The Skeleton

Chapter Five

When Down Turns Up

Chapter Six

Footprint

Chapter Seven

Enter Stage Right, the Villain

Chapter Eight

Scammers

Chapter Nine

Let’s Park the Car

Chapter Ten

Four Face Cards

Chapter Eleven

Gumshoeing

Chapter Twelve

Getting Warm

Chapter Thirteen

All aboard

Chapter Fourteen

Dead Man’s Party

Chapter Fifteen

Time Plus Five

Chapter Sixteen

Home Run

Chapter Seventeen

Krakatoa in the Hole

Chapter Eighteen

Two Red Balls

Chapter Nineteen

A Poem

Chapter Twenty

Lost in the Sands of Time

Chapter Twenty One

Three’s a Charm

Chapter Twenty Two

The Coven

A poem by Arnie Grimm

Hidden for all Eternity

I had this possession I want no one to find, so I

buried it beneath the Sands of Time.

I went to where the rocks move on their own, their

path led me to the place they called home.

Over the mountains into the valley of death, where

the air is so hot, it takes away your breath.

Through the door I did pass, to bury my

possession in the Sands of the Past.

Chapter One

Under the Radar

The central point of the magical world is in the quiet town of Broomstick at the Hidden Quiddity Potion Shop owned by two sisters, Agnes and Harriet.

Agnes and Harriet had a magical way of keeping their fingers on the pulse of the magical world. Nothing got past them.

When I said that nothing got past Agnes and Harriet, I meant almost nothing. You see there was this young woman about twenty-two by the name of Amber Rothschild.

Amber Rothschild stood five feet eleven and a half inches tall bare foot. With shoes on, she towered over most men her age. Amber had ash blonde hair that she let hang around shoulders. She wore large round black framed glasses, although she did not need them.

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Amber for all intense and purposes was not a witch. She was a, what they called in the magical world a knotem, meaning not magical.

This is why Agnes and Harriet had no idea what Amber Rothschild was up to when she stumbled into the magical world.

Amber was a salesperson at the Master’s Eye books. It was a metaphysical bookstore in Rapid City. For Amber it wasn’t exactly a mainstream job.

It took someone like Amber to work in an out of the ordinary supernatural bookstore and deal with the clientele interested in the out worldly cults of the day.

Here was this exceptionally tall wallflower with a kind heart, trying to fit into a generation that came well after Marjorie Spock, Benjamin Spock, and Mr. Spock. She isn’t quite sure if she is a Next, X, Millennial, or someone just trying to exist in the world of today.

I don’t mean to jump to the end of the story, but it was Harriet not Agnes, that stood up for Amber’s rights to call herself a witch.

What makes one a witch, her magical powers or her devotion toward the philosophy and ideology? asked Harriet.

At the Sisters of the Q witch’s coven Amber was allowed to join the Sisterhood and write her feelings in the Quair.

Amber wrote, Spells and potions do not make one a witch. Being selected by Magic to do good for others does.

Ah, you are asking why tell the ending now? Because you are not going to believe how Amber Rothschild was selected to join the Sisters of the Q.

Oh and who am I you ask? I’m your story teller. I am Wazoo the Wizard and this Broomstick Tale is called Ghost of a Chance at True Love.

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Amber did not start out to be a witch. Now we all know if you were not born with magical powers, one just cannot pull magical powers out of the air.

However, it sure seemed that was what Amber may have done. Strange occurrences began to happen to make it appear as if she could do magical things.

One summer day it was very hot and the air conditioner stopped working at the metaphysical store.

I’ll fix it, said Amber.

Jokingly she pulled out from a drawer a plastic die cast assembly line painted movie inspired magic wand. Amber went over to the thermostat and gave it a hard tap with this wand.

The fan motor began to blow air and soon thereafter cool air filled the store. What really happened was, when Amber tapped the thermostat, it caused a broken wire to spark and fuse to a power connection that bypassed the broken control.

Later in the day, the air conditioner overheated and stopped working completely.

It was that one moment that started Amber down the road of her magical adventure. She started to delve into the occult books on modern witchcraft.

She was out with a group of friends when one of them did not have enough money for a movie ticket.

Amber pulled out her plastic wand, tapped his left side and said to him, Look in your left pocket.

Sure enough, there was six dollars in the pocket. What really took place was after they had ordered and paid for their fast food this one young man slipped his change into his left pocket instead of putting the paper money back into his wallet and forgot about it.

Again, Amber was credited with doing magic. This falsely built her self confidence. She started doing bewitchments for her friends to try to make them rich, or do better in school.

Now the big magical event that really made people proclaim Amber was a witch happened this way.

A woman came in to the metaphysical store to buy some herbal supplements. Her total was thirty two dollars and nine cents. On the printed receipt was the time and date. It happened to be three twenty nine in the afternoon on March twenty ninth.

Amber noticed the peculiar arrangement of numbers and said to the woman, You should play the daily three lotto games with these numbers that are on your receipt. Look, three, two, nine here, here and here.

The woman looked at what Amber was pointing at.

It was just a complete coincident those numbers came up like that on this woman’s receipt, or was it?

The next day the woman came into the store proclaiming in a hysterical manner that she had won the previous day’s one million dollar jackpot with those numbers.

The word spread that Amber was a witch. People were coming in buying merchandise and asking her for lotto numbers, healing spells, and other things that people thought witches could do for them.

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After those mysterious events, one of Amber’s friends gave her a strange book that was very old.

This was an old book brought to America by one of my forgotten relatives. I was told that it contained stories of witchcraft, said Amber’s friend.

Amber opened the book to find most of it was hand written in an unusual language. After an exhausting research, she found the writing was in the witch’s alphabet.

Amber methodically translated the letters from the witch’s alphabet to English letters. The words, surprisingly, turned out to be a form of English. Amber could read it, but it was a little awkward in the meaning of some phrases.

Amber read aloud the title of the hand written book, My pilgrimage to Emrys.

It was a diary without anyone’s name attached to it. Amber would translate a page at a time and then read it.

I am on the road to the Isle of Ynys Mon riding atop my familiar. It will be a long journey as this is a less traveled road in recent years.

Amber finished translating the book and discovered a land that had really been lost in time. Emrys was located on the isle of Ynys Mon. Today, it is Anglesey Isle located on the northern tip of Wales.

I can’t find Emrys on any map of Wales or Anglesey Isle, Amber said to herself.

Amber read a short entry in the diary that had given her a clue of where her writer was headed.

I visited Lligwy and laid a bouquet of leeks at the burial site of my ancestors.

Lligwy, maybe this will lead me to Emrys, thought Amber.

Amber wondered why the writer left a bouquet of leeks at the burial site. She looked up the meaning of the leek to the Welsh.

The leek in Welsh history stood for sacred knowledge of ancient times.

Emrys is the most magical town in the entire world. In the center of town is a perfectly preserved petrified tree, read Amber.

By the end of the diary, Amber had decided to make her own pilgrimage to Emrys. She booked a tour package to Moefre, which included staying in a country house cottage.

From Heathrow airport Amber rode a train to the northeast side of Anglesey Isle on the Irish Sea.

On the train, Amber sat across from two middle-aged women that were not exactly dressed in twenty first century fashion, more like old era of Welsh.

Holding out a map Amber asked, Excuse me, could you help me locate the town of Emrys?

The two women smiled, first at each other then at Amber.

I’m sorry. I assumed you spoke English, said Amber and sat back in her seat.

Oh we speak English dear, said one of the women.

It isn’t everyday that someone asks us how to get to Emrys, said the other woman.

Then you do know where it is? exclaimed Amber holding out the map once more.

Oh my, yes we do know exactly where it is, giggled the two women.

Amber sat there wondering why they aren’t answering her query.

I’m not getting the joke here. Are you going to help me or are you playing a game with me?

The two women sat there again smiling at each other not answering Amber.

Amber again sat back in her seat and stared out the window at the countryside ignoring the two strange women.

You’re from America? ask the first woman.

Yes, but what does that have to do with you not wanting to help me? asked Amber.

You have the wrong map for asking directions to Emrys, said the second woman.

It is on Anglesey Isle? asked Amber.

Yes, just not here and now. You need the shadow map, stated the second woman.

Amber pulled out the diary and turned to a page near the middle of the book. She opened to a page where there was a large dot in the middle of the page.

Could this be the map you are talking about?

The first woman pulled out her magic wand and touched the dot. The page folded out to show a hand drawing of the island with landmarks. No writing appeared anywhere to pinpoint Emrys.

Now you use your wand and say the spell, said the first woman.

Amber pulled out her plastic die cast assembly line painted movie inspired magic wand. That was the sign to the two women that Amber wasn’t a real witch.

Oh my, that wand just won’t do, said the two women.

"Come with us when the train