Witch's Gift

Chapter 1
Complete story

Robert Harper sighed and looked in the rear view mirror and noted, with a childish exasperation that belied his eighteen years, the long line of cars following their own along the interstate, at what seemed like a snail’s pace. His father, Professor Franklin Harper, was peering nearsightedly ahead in search of the road which led to their destination.

Robert said anxiously, "Daddy couldn’t we go any faster? I’m tired of riding."

Professor Harper replied tartly, "Sarah told me to be careful not to miss the Tate’s Landing turn off. Therefore, I’m not going to miss it just to satisfy a bunch of speed demons or an impatient little boy."

Robert said, "Okay, Daddy, but I’ll sure be glad to get there cause I’ve got to go to the bathroom."

"Well don’t wet your pants Bobby or I’ll spank you!" the professor snapped.

Robert frowned, trying to remember something he knew to be important. He started counting on his fingers. Yeah, I’m eighteen not five, and my father hasn’t called me Bobby since I was in kindergarten. But just a minute ago I was thinking and acting like a kindergartener. But what made me think and act that way? Robert pressed his hand to his forehead in hopes of clearing his mind of childish thoughts.

The trouble had started, Robert thought, with his father’s desire to write a book on witchcraft in America. This desire had sparked the visit of Sarah Tate to their home in connection with it. Sarah Tate was, according to his father, a practicing witch. The visit had taken place a few days before. Robert remembered how quietly the visit had begun. The front doorbell had rung and he had gone to answer it. Robert had opened the front door to find the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen standing on the threshold. For the first moment of Sarah Tate’s visit, Robert had simply stared at her, utterly speechless. The two of them had stood so still for that moment they might have been mistaken for the figures in a tableau. He stared at Sarah, seeing a tall woman dressed in a dark green evening gown which perfectly matched her eyes.

She smiled at Robert saying, "Good evening. I hope I’m not too early. You must be Robert. Franklin, your father I mean, told me about you."

Robert said nothing, being unable to speak while his eyes met those of Sarah Tate. It was as though her gaze robbed him not only of the power to speak but to move as well. Gazing into Sarah’s eyes, he felt like one standing on the edge of a chasm, a chasm whose depth lured Robert to let himself fall. He seemed for that moment to hear an inner voice saying, "Let go, Bobby, give up your old life; let me make it anew. You feel my power and there is no way you can resist it as you will discover in the end."

Robert blinked and the chasm vanished, and all he saw and heard was an attractive woman asking him, "May I come in?"

Robert stepped aside and Sarah walked past him, her eyes fixed on Franklin Harper. From that moment Franklin Harper had no chance at all to escape the fate which had been reserved for him and the same was true of his son, Robert. Although Professor Harper had a well-established reputation for being impervious to charm, it was torn to shreds on that evening.

Robert, remembering that evening, thought that his father had behaved like a dog cavorting at the feet of its mistress, performing any and all required tricks in hopes of gaining his mistress’s notice, even if it got him only a slap. Sarah Tate had spent the evening with her eyes fixed alternatively upon Robert or his father. She actually said little, allowing Robert or his father to do all the talking. In fact, Franklin had done most of the talking while his son had simply sat and stared at their guest.

Early on in the evening Sarah had insisted that Robert call her by her first name instead of Miss Tate, as he had been doing. After their first encounter, Robert had done his best to avoid looking directly into Sarah’s eyes. He was fearful of what might happen if he did so again. Therefore, to avoid her gaze Robert had fixed his attention on Sarah’s hair which was the red of an open and ever burning flame. It flowed on to her shoulders and down her back in a silken wave. As he gazed at her hair, Robert began to wonder what it would be like to touch it.

After their meal, the three of them had adjourned to the living room where Franklin had seated himself beside Sarah on the sofa. Robert, a prey to strange emotions, sat across from them in an armchair. Robert sat clutching the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white, in what he could only think of as jealousy. Had a psychiatrist been present, he might have described Robert’s reaction as infantile jealousy. All Robert Harper knew was that he wanted to scream at his father, "Mine!"

Sarah sat listening attentively to Professor Harper, although his questions evoked a smile from her not unlike that of adults who listen patiently to the questioning of children.

He asked, "So you really believe you’re a witch?"

For answer Sarah smiled, saying, "It is you, my dear Franklin, who use the word witch, not I. Furthermore, what I am is not a matter of belief but simply of knowledge."

Professor Harper shot back, "If you’re not a witch, then what are you?"

Sarah, speaking seriously and no longer smiling, said, "I am a daughter of the moon. The children of the moon have been given many names by men, but none of them has ever described who we really are."

Professor Harper asked quickly, "What has the moon to do with.?"

Sarah interrupted saying, "Everything, because the moon is the mistress of the night just as the sun is the ruler of the day.

"So you only practice witchcraft at night?" There was barely concealed amusement in Professor Harper’s voice as he spoke.

Sarah replied, speaking with a hint of anger in her voice, "The Moon and Sun are merely the names given by the human race to the two entities who stand outside the realm of time and through their power dominate it."

Professor Harper protested, "Oh, come now, Sarah! You don’t really believe in this day and age that the sun and moon are some kind of gods or something else, do you? I mean, after all, only consider that the sun is merely a star or a cloud of various types of gas and the moon is just a barren rock whose light is merely a reflection of that same sun!"

Sarah laughed at that with a deep-throated chuckle, then said, "Oh, my dear Franklin! You almost make me pity you, truly you do. It is an emotion rarely experienced by a daughter of the moon, I assure you."

Professor Harper said quickly, "Pity me if you like, but do something now to convince me of your powers as a witch and you may be able to make me a believer, too!"

This statement caused Sarah to laugh for what had seemed to Robert a long time. Then she had sat silently and absolutely still for a long moment, simply staring at Franklin Harper with eyes of smoldering green fire. Robert had held his breath, suddenly afraid and wondering what would happen next.

Professor Harper broke the silence, oblivious of his guest’s reaction to his words. He stood up and suggested they go in to the kitchen where Sarah might demonstrate her power by turning on a faucet of the kitchen sink without the use of her hands or, failing that, she might light the stove without benefit of matches. He added, his lips twitching as he spoke, "I’ve heard white witches can do that sort of thing. By the way, Sarah, are you a black witch or a white one?"

Sarah ignored his question about black and white witches. Instead she stood up intending to leave, saying in a tone so cold that her voice seemed for an instant to take on the chill of deep winter, "You will have your demonstration of power, Franklin. But I shall choose the time and place for it!" She added after an instant’s pause, "I’m afraid I must be going, but I have a gift for each of you in appreciation for your kind dinner invitation."

Professor Harper asked anxiously, "Must you go so soon? I’ve barely begun my inquiry."

"Oh, yes. We mustn’t keep Bobby up past his bedtime, Franklin."

Robert opened his mouth to protest Sarah’s use of the nickname Bobby, which he detested. As a rule, Robert never allowed anyone to use the nickname Bobby in connection with himself. However, this time Robert made no protest at its use.

He met Sarah’s eyes again and found himself standing on the edge of the chasm once more. This time he teetered on the edge for an instant then fell out and down. Robert felt his stomach lurch and he sucked in his breath to scream but no sound came. Instead, he fell at an ever-increasing speed until he lost consciousness.

Bobby returned to consciousness to feel his father’s hand on his shoulder shaking him gently. He opened his eyes and looked up at his father. Professor Harper smiled paternally down at his son, saying, "Sarah was right, Bobby. It’s well past your bedtime."

Bobby had been lying back in his armchair, but at his father’s words he sat up abruptly and said angrily, "You said I could stay up to meet Sarah Tate!"

Professor Harper replied coldly, "I did and you have. Sarah Tate has come and gone and it’s bedtime for you."

Bobby stared wildly round the room. Sarah Tate was nowhere to be seen. He asked wistfully, "Where’s Sarah?"

Professor Harper snapped, "Gone home! Where did you think she was?"

"I don’t know, but I thought she’d at least say good-bye," Robert replied, thinking that he sounded like a small boy while his father sounded like a particularly prim nanny.

How had such a situation come about? The answer was frighteningly clear: it was through the power of the daughter of the moon. Robert thought frantically, What can we do to resist? This thought dominated his mind only for an instant, then it was gone, leaving not a trace. Thus on the night Sarah Tate visited his home a struggle began in Robert Harper’s mind. The struggle was for control of Robert’s mind by one of two patterns of thought. One was of an eighteen-year old who knew something of his peril and the other was of a small child largely ignorant of his danger. Therefore, at times after that night, Robert Harper was a young man aware of his danger but, thanks to the small child whose thoughts threaten to dominate his mind, was unable to escape.

Professor Harper was saying, "Well, she didn’t want to wake you, so Sarah told me to say goodnight for her." He added after a pause, "She also said that she was looking forward to having you visit her this weekend."

Bobby said anxiously, "I don’t want to go by myself, Daddy!"

Professor Harper laughed indulgently then explained, "We both are going to Sarah’s home for a visit this coming weekend. Now, no more questions tonight, Bobby. Run along to bed and let me get back to my book."

It was then that Bobby caught sight of the book lying on the table beside his father’s easy chair. It was large and leather-bound. It had what appeared to be letters picked out in gold leaf on the cover.

Bobby pointed excitedly to the book and asked, "Did Sarah give it to you?"

His father replied impatiently, "Yes, yes! Now do like I say and run along to bed, Bobby. And you needn’t look so woebegone. Your gift is in your room. But mind, no staying up until all hours playing with it."

Bobby rose and walked toward his room. On the way he paused beside his father’s chair and read the title of the book Sarah Tate had given him. He read the title aloud in a singsong tone reminiscent of a child’s treble, "Book-of-the-moon."

Professor Harper, hearing him, snapped, "Leave that book alone, Bobby! It’s not for you and for the last time, go to bed before I spank you!"

Bobby left the living room quickly then, just as any small boy might have done after being rebuked by his father. Bobby entered his room almost running and closed the door after him. Then he stopped in the middle of the room in amazement. He saw that his bedroom was now dominated by the presence of a brightly-colored object. It stood in a pool of moonlight which came through the bedroom’s single window in a soft stream. Although Bobby had never possessed one so far as he could remember, nonetheless he knew what it was. The brightly-colored object was a child’s toy box. The soft radiance of the moonlight made the bright red color of the box stand out. He walked slowly forward until he stood directly in front of it.

Bobby reached out a tentative finger and touched the box and discovered that its finish was as smooth as silk. He liked the bright fire-engine red color of the box because it made him feel cheerful and reminded him of how he felt on his birthday, too. He leaned over and examined the box more closely looking for the catch that would open it. He could find none, so he simply placed both hands on either side of the lid and lifted. The lid rose so easily that it might have been made of feathers. It rose to an upright position and stopped of its own accord because Bobby’s hands had fallen to his sides. He stood staring down into the box, shaking from head to foot.

Robert’s eyes were filled with the vision of every toy imaginable, their number so great that no ordinary box could ever have held them all. Each one of the toys seemed to have a spell all its own. Robert felt his mind filling with so many conflicting desires that they caused him physical pain. He wanted to cry out, but could not. Robert had entered his bedroom thinking he was five, but the sight of the toy box and its contents confused him, suggesting as they did, children of all ages.

With an enormous effort, Robert tore his eyes away from the collection of toys and found himself looking in to the eyes of Sarah Tate. Her face and form had appeared on the inner surface of the toy box lid in the very instant in which Robert had looked up from its contents. Holding him easily in the clutch of her gaze, Sarah smiled, saying, "Did I not tell you, Bobby, that you would feel my power? This is but the beginning, for I am a true daughter of the moon and like my mother I have many faces. As a daughter of the moon, I can also change that which I see to make of it whatever I will. Look upon two, one of whom I have already changed and the other I will; see them and remember."

Then Robert saw two animals with Sarah. One was a black and tan hound who cringed on its belly at Sarah’s feet and the other was a black wolf who stood at her side. The wolf stared at Robert, its eyes filled with an insatiable hunger.

Robert tried to speak but could only make inarticulate sounds. "Ah! goo! goo! gah, gah."

Sarah laughed softly then said, "There, there, my little lamb! You need not fear me unless you disobey me, and you won’t do that now."

For an answer, Robert was allowed to say one word, "No!" Then he fell to his knees in front of the box like one worshipping at an altar. The image of Sarah Tate looked down upon him and Robert looked back with fear and longing.

Sarah said, "From this moment your new life begins, Bobby, so take the first of my gifts and when we meet again your old life will have melted away."

Robert raised his hands from his sides and they were filled with a black and white teddy bear whose blue button eyes looked back in to his own with a seeing expression. As he clutched the teddy bear, the toy box lid closed of its own accord with a soft click. Robert stood up shakily, holding the teddy bear in front of him; he backed away from the toy box.

He felt a breath of air on his cheek and the curtains on the window stirred, cutting off the moonlight for an instant. Then the curtains ceased to stir and the moonlight came streaming in once more. Robert stared, because the toy box was now gone. He turned and laid the teddy bear on his bed, then rushed to the door and tried to open it. The door knob would not move, no matter how hard he tried to turn it. The knob was as rigid as a steel bar.

Robert thought frantically, somebody’s holding it! He called out, "Daddy, are you there?" and at the same time thought incongruously, what am I doing? I never call him Daddy.

There was no answer from beyond the door at first, only silence. Then Robert heard a sound which he feared more than any other, the low growl of a dog. It sounded as though the animal was just outside the door. All his life Robert had been, without fully understanding why, afraid of dogs. It did not matter what size or breed they were, he feared and hated them all.

Now, listening to the ominous sound beyond the door, he remembered with growing terror all the nightmares he’d ever had involving dogs. One ever-recurring nightmare flashed into his mind as he stared at his bedroom door. In the dream, Robert was endlessly running pursued by unseen dogs, whose growling filled his ears like the thunder of an approaching storm. As he ran, he felt a terrifying urge to look over his shoulder, but what he saw frightened him so much that he always awoke screaming. Robert thought again, staring at the door, the most terrifying part of the dream was that he could never remember what it was he saw pursuing him.

So now Robert backed slowly away from the door, suddenly very glad that it would not open. He kept backing up until the back of his knees struck the edge of his bed. He sat down abruptly and heard someone laughing beyond the door. It sounded like the laughter of a young boy. Robert called out again, "Dad, is that you?" Though he was convinced that it was not. A heavy silence fell and Robert shifted uncomfortably on his bed, feeling certain that someone was watching him. Then he looked down and saw the teddy bear staring up at him. Robert leapt up intending once again to run from the room.

Instead, he began to undress, bathed in a pool of blue light which had its origin in the teddy bear’s eyes. Bobby threw off his clothes and crawled, naked, into bed. Once there, he hugged the teddy bear to his chest and soon fell asleep.

During the few days remaining before he and his father were to visit Sarah Tate, Bobby took the teddy bear everywhere with him. He gloried in the warm feeling of security it gave him. At first Robert had experienced moments of maturity in which he worried about what others would think of his carrying a teddy bear around with him, but such moments were increasingly rare. Bobby knew only that he could no longer go anywhere or do anything without the teddy bear being on his person or nearby.

Professor Harper, meanwhile, was deeply engrossed in The Book Of The Moon and, as a consequence, oblivious of all else around him.

They left on their visit to Tate’s Landing late Friday afternoon and Robert, for an instant, looked back at his home, suddenly wondering if he would ever see it again.

Professor Harper interrupted Robert’s thoughts saying, "There’s the turn off at last."

Robert looked and saw a narrow two-lane road winding its way up into the hills. He was surprised to see no sign marking the road as being the one they wanted. Bobby asked anxiously, "Daddy, are you sure this is the road we want?"

Professor Harper reached out and patted his son’s knee saying, "Of course I am, Bobby. Sarah said I would know the road when I saw it and sure enough, I did and do."

Bobby wriggled uncomfortably on the seat, remembering suddenly that he needed a bathroom. He looked hopefully out the car window but there was no bathroom on the road to Tate’s Landing yet. So as a consolation, he reached out and drew onto his lap the teddy bear which had been lying on the front seat between himself and his father. The teddy bear lay in his lap staring up at Bobby and he was comforted by its gaze. He smiled at the teddy bear and stroked its fur.

Robert looked back and saw that the interstate had already disappeared. There was now only the winding road both before and behind them. The disappearance of the interstate made him feel unaccountably anxious. Being of two minds, Robert could not understand why. His anxiety was increased by the sight of rain clouds slowly filling the sky but as yet, no rain had fallen. There was only an occasional flash of lightning flickering across the sky, a portent of worse things to come.

Bobby said, "It looks like rain, Daddy."

Professor Harper said in a tone meant to be reassuring, "Don’t worry, little boy. You’ll be home soon." Robert shook his head in puzzlement, why should his father speak of their home as if it were ahead of them when he must remember that it was behind them?

The sky grew darker and Robert was certain that they would be caught in rain before reaching their destination. As though in confirmation of his thought, a few large rain drops spattered against the windshield.

Robert heard a roaring sound behind them and looked in the rear view mirror. He saw a large truck following them. Such vehicles always made Robert nervous because when he had been a small child, his mother had died in an automobile accident involving a large truck. The truck was very close behind them, almost riding their bumper.

Bobby watched the truck with growing fear. His worst fear was confirmed when the truck pulled alongside, preparatory to passing. It seemed, for an instant, to tower over Professor Harper’s small compact car like a moving steel cliff. Then Bobby felt a jolt and the car slid out of control into one of the drainage ditches which ran on either side of the road. Professor Harper wrestled with the steering wheel trying to regain control of his vehicle, but in vain. The compact ended up nose down in the ditch. Its engine died and at the same moment, the rain came down in a torrent.

Bobby stared out the windshield, trying to see where they were and how far they had to go to reach their destination. Finally, unable to tell where they were, Bobby asked in a small voice, "What do we do now, Daddy?"

Professor Harper said impatiently, "I don’t know yet! Let me think! Sit still and be quiet."

Bobby hung his head and stared at the floorboard, noticing the book Sarah Tate had given his father lying at his feet. It, like the teddy bear, had been lying on the front seat between them. Not knowing what else to do or say, Bobby laid aside the teddy bear, then leaned over and picked up his father’s book. It fell open to a blank page and Robert turned it and found another. He stared at the blank page and suddenly knew, without knowing how or why, that this book was responsible for all the changes in himself and his father. Nothing had ever been the same since Sarah Tate and her book had entered their home, Robert thought. Swiftly he flipped through the pages, his fear mounting as he saw that they were all blank.

He said, his voice quivering with fear, "Dad, this book is.."

"Not for you, little boy! Now give it to me immediately!" Professor Harper said sharply.

Robert looked at his father; their eyes met and it was his undoing. Bobby said meekly, "Okay, Daddy, here’s your old book. But I wish we could get out of this place."

Professor Harper took the book without a word and started to read. Then Bobby turned his attention back to the car, noticing that the rain had increased. It seemed to him at times that the car was enveloped in a wall of water. Seeing the heavy downpour, he said again in an even more plaintive voice, "I sure wish we could get out of here."

Professor Harper looked up from his book and said angrily, "I told you, Bobby, be patient! Help will be along soon, I’m sure."

Robert looked back at his father and saw him industriously turning blank pages. He watched his father’s lips move soundlessly, apparently repeating unseen words. Robert looked back at the rain, feeling utterly alone. The rain slackened a little and Robert saw an enormous oak tree leaning over the ditch in which their car was stuck.

Bobby reached for the passenger’s side door handle, suddenly filled with a desire to play in the rain, but his father startled him. He fairly snarled, saying, "Bobby Harper, you know better than to play in the rain! Now sit still!"

Robert looked at his father and saw that he was still reading his book. His eyes were apparently fastened on it. Robert suspected that he had not even looked at him before divining what Bobby wanted to do.

In answer to Robert’s thought, Professor Harper looked up and said, speaking gently, "Yes, Bobby, your mother and I know what you do and when you do it."

This was too much for Robert; he flung open the car door and ran. Just then the rain resumed its heavy downpour and the wind began to blow violently, too. As he ran, he looked back over his shoulder to see what, if anything, his father was doing. He saw the oak tree towering over his father’s car, its branches tossing back and forth in the wind suggesting, by their motion, anger. This fact disturbed him because he suddenly wondered if the tree might not fall in the storm.

Robert decided that there was only one thing which he could do now and that was to go back and persuade his father to leave the car. He started walking toward it, then froze in horror. He stared in wide-eyed terror as the black and tan hound of his toy box vision emerged from the car and began trotting purposefully toward him. He watched it come, torn between a desire to run and a desire to stay in order to help his father.

Robert took one halting step toward the car, then saw the wolf of his vision emerge from behind the oak tree. The wolf stalked forward, confident of its prey. The wolf’s eyes were aglow with that insatiable hunger which Robert had seen in his toy box vision. Its enormous white fangs gleamed against the black fur of the wolf’s muzzle clearly visible even in the rain. The sight of the wolf’s fangs was too much for Bobby; he turned and ran, screaming as he did so.

Overhead almost simultaneously there was a blinding flash of lightning and a tremendous crash of thunder. A split second later the oak tree toppled, crushing the roof of the Harper car as though it had been made of paper. Bobby had already run far down the road when he was momentarily blinded by the flash of lightning which caused him to stumble and fall to his knees. Then he heard the oak tree when it fell.

Almost against his will Bobby looked back over his shoulder, fearful of what he might see. Robert saw the wolf standing only a few feet away, its fangs bared in a silent snarl. Bobby leaped up with a frightened wail and started running.

Robert came to himself sometime later, he did not know how long, breathing heavily and staring wildly around. He saw that neither the hound nor the wolf was in sight, but where was his father? Surely his father had escaped from their car before the oak tree fell, but how was he to know? Robert stood indecisively for a moment, then decided to go for help rather than return to the car. He deliberately thrust from his mind the question of how the hound of his vision had gotten into their car, and he refused to think of whether or not his father had survived the fall of the oak tree. He simply told himself, I’ve got to find someone to help us and the rest will just have to wait. With this thought in mind, Robert walked on in the same direction in which he and his father had been traveling when they’d been forced off the road.

The rain was coming down in sheets and Robert could only see a few feet in front of him. He walked along the edge of the pavement, noticing that it was in need of repair and wondering how often the road was traveled. He shivered in the rain and wished he were at home in his own room, dry and warm. As he walked in the direction of Tate’s Landing, Robert hoped to meet someone who would be going in to the town. Maybe then he could hire a tow truck and return for his father. As though in answer to that thought, he saw a vehicle coming toward him.

He stopped and looked carefully at it and felt the grip of fear in his stomach. His fear sprang from the fact that he recognized the slow-moving vehicle. It was the truck which had forced he and his father off the road. It was now coming from the direction of Tate’s Landing. The truck was moving so slowly that Robert thought the driver must be looking for something or someone. He stopped in the middle of the road and stood fearfully waiting for the truck to reach him. Robert wanted to run, but a conviction had begun to grow in his mind that for him there was no escape.

The truck stopped about two feet in front of Robert, the doors of the cab opened simultaneously and a man and a boy climbed out. The boy walked casually to the front of the truck and stopped while the man hurried to Robert’s side.

The man said, "Say, little boy, what you doing out here all by yourself?"

Robert glared at the man and said hotly, "I’m not a little boy! And my name is.." Robert’s indignant words died on his lips as his eyes met those of the boy. The look in them left Robert bereft of speech and he felt that his mind had been gripped in something akin to a steel vice.

Robert, as the boy’s eyes bored in to his, knew how a bird felt when confronted by a snake. He thought frantically, how can he be doing this to me? He looks no more than twelve years old! The vice slowly tightened until all mature thoughts fled from Robert’s mind and Bobby stood shivering apprehensively before his inquisitors.

Seeing his reaction, the boy smiled knowingly at him.

At the same instant the man replied just as hotly as Robert, "Now you listen, little fella! You mind your manners or you’ll wish you had, and that’s a promise! My name is Harvey Miller and that boy over there is my son, Johnny. Now what’s your name?"

Bobby told him, his lower lip beginning to tremble a little.

Harvey Miller said, smiling in his turn, "That’s better. You don’t need to be scared of me, I ain’t spanked a little boy in a long time. Now you’d better come along with me and Johnny back to town. Miss Sarah would sure be mad with me, was I not to get you out of this here rain."

Once inside the cab of the truck Harvey asked in a kindly tone, "How old are you, Bobby?"

Being seated between the Millers, Bobby was overcome with shyness and could not remember his age, so he held up three fingers and hoped his count was right.

Harvey removed a hand from the steering wheel and patted Robert on the head, saying, "Good boy!"

Robert came to himself standing in front of a house whose ordinary appearance did not reassure him. The house was a large rambling structure painted a plain white. Dark green paint had been used for its trim and the roof as well. Robert noticed that the rain had stopped except for the water that dripped from the leaves of the trees. He looked up at the sky and saw that the sun was nearly set. He realized too, that he was standing on the edge of a wide yard which separated the house from the street.

As he looked up at the house, Robert remembered the parting words of Harvey Miller. "Here you are, Bobby, home and not before time, I’m thinkin’. You best go on in the house so Aunt Sofy can get you out of them wet clothes." Harvey Miller had then glanced significantly at the crotch of Robert’s pants.

Robert had followed Harvey’s look and was horrified to see a urine stain spreading across the front of them. Until that instant, Robert had not been aware of his loss of self-control.

Johnny Miller grinned at Robert, saying, "Best go on in the house so Aunt Sofy can change you."

Then without another word, the Millers drove away, leaving Robert standing on the edge of Sarah Tate’s front yard, wondering what he should do now. However, Robert was certain of one thing and that was he would never willingly enter Sarah Tate’s house.

Robert had turned to go when he heard the music coming from the house. It was a melody as old as childhood itself, but now wrapped in a power far older. Robert began to hum the tune and a long familiar lyric ran through his mind, "Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top; when the wind blows, the cradle will rock."

Robert took one slow step toward the house then another and soon Bobby was walking fast across the yard and finally running. He did not stop until he stood on the wide front porch. He stood for an instant staring in to the house, then he entered and the front door closed softly after him. The music of the lullaby played on in some distant room and Robert followed the sound, knowing that he was meant to do so.

The house had a wide hall which ran through it from front to back. Robert walked along it until he reached a room with a half-open door. The lullaby came from this room and its notes beckoned Robert to enter. He pushed the door slowly open, knowing that to enter the room was to seal his fate but he was powerless to stop himself.

Robert was astounded to see the room filled with the contents of the toy box. Toys were scattered about the floor as though recently abandoned by some unseen child. However, Robert knew that this was not true because the toys had been left scattered enticingly on the floor for his benefit.

The first toy to catch Robert’s eye was the black and white teddy bear which he’d left in his father’s car. It lay on the floor just beyond the door of the room. Robert stared at the teddy bear in astonishment because the music of the lullaby was coming from its interior. Yet there had been no indication of a music box in the teddy bear’s interior when he had originally received it. The teddy bear lay on the floor staring back at Robert, its blue button eyes fully alive and eager, for what he dared not think. Then suddenly the music of the lullaby stopped and the teddy bear lay on the floor, an innocent toy and nothing more.

As a consequence, Robert became aware of other sounds in the house. He could hear the clatter of pots and pans coming from somewhere farther down the hall. Above the clatter of pots and pans, Robert could also hear the voices of two people, a man and a woman. Although Robert could not make out what they were saying, he had a feeling they were talking about him.

Robert looked away from the teddy bear and caught sight of the beautiful rocking horse which stood against the rear wall of the room. It was a snowy-white creature mounted on silver springs with a bright red saddle and bridle. As he stared at it, Robert realized with a start that the rocking horse possessed eyes of the same shade of blue as those of the teddy bear. What was more, they seemed as much alive as those of the other toy. He realized at once that the spell of the rocking horse was even stronger than that of the teddy bear. Against his will, he felt himself literally pulled across the room while its door closed softly behind him.

As he reached the rocking horse, Robert heard soft laughter just outside the room and he recognized the voice to be that of Johnny Miller. Robert wanted to stop and go back and confront Johnny Miller, but instead swung his leg over the horse’s back and settled himself in the saddle. At first the horse was so small and Robert so large that its springs were in danger of breaking beneath his weight. Gradually, however, as the rocking horse moved slowly back and forth, Robert felt himself changing.

At the beginning of his ride, Robert’s feet were on the floor and his knees near his chest. Then as the rocking horse moved back and forth, faster and faster, Robert’s feet lost touch with the floor. At the same time his body shrank in size and his clothes became far too large for Robert to even attempt to keep them on. One by one he watched as his shoes fell to the floor, the laces still neatly tied. His shirt soon became so large that Robert’s hands were lost in the folds of its sleeves. He clutched wildly at the head of the rocking horse, suddenly afraid of falling to the floor.

The smoothly polished wood of the rocking horse’s head slid easily through his fingers and Robert felt himself falling. He sucked in his breath to cry out but landed on the floor so hard that the air was knocked out of his lungs. Robert lay for a long moment, painfully drawing air back in to his lungs, then rolled over and sat up.

Staring wildly around, Robert saw his pants and undershorts lying in a heap beside the rocking horse while he was only covered by his ludicrously gigantic shirt. Robert was appalled to see that he now had the body of a small child, possibly a five-year-old. He looked at the rocking horse and said aloud, "Who knows how old I’d be now, if I had stayed in your saddle!"

He stood up shakily, intending to run from the house while his mind, if not his body, was still his own. Then he saw the top sitting in the middle of the room, slowly spinning by itself.

The top was painted in bright colors, depicting a carousel. As he watched, Robert saw the top begin to spin faster and faster. Then suddenly Robert was no longer watching, instead he was riding the carousel. Robert stared wildly around at his fellow riders, all of whom he saw were picture images of himself at different ages.

Just ahead of him he saw himself at the age of eighteen awkwardly astride a carousel horse that was plainly too small for him, while to his left, Robert saw his twelve-year-old persona riding his mount, plainly embarrassed by what he was doing.

Then to his right, Robert saw a naked baby, barely a year old, whom he was shocked to recognize as himself. The baby sat in the saddle holding on to nothing unless it were the empty air around him and his mouth was open wide in a soundless wail of terror. It was plain at a glance that the baby was in eminent danger of falling from the saddle. Adult Robert reached out with his child’s hands to save the baby, only to find that he had become him instead and was falling. It seemed to him that he fell from a great height. Robert expected to be crushed by his fall but instead he felt himself caught in a pair of skinny, though strong, arms. Robert had closed his eyes tight during his fall, but when it was arrested he opened them and saw Johnny Miller looking down at him.

Johnny said, smiling, "I was right! I figured you’d be comin’ back bout now and here you are! Guess I’d better get you in yonder to the kitchen. Uncle Amos and Aunt Sofy been waitin a long time." Johnny cradled Robert on his shoulder and patted his naked buttocks as he did so. Then Johnny carried him in to the kitchen and displayed Robert to the elderly couple who had been waiting there.

Entering the kitchen, Johnny held out his burden first to the elderly black woman whom Robert took to be Aunt Sofy. She said, "Oh, you precious little lamb! Come to Auntie and let me look at you!"

Aunt Sofy was seated in a high-backed rocker and Uncle Amos sat in one next to her. The rockers were set in front of a wood stove which was blazing hot. Robert lay in Sofy’s arms for an instant merely looking up at her, just as any normal baby might have done. Then against his will, he began to whimper because he was cold due more to his nakedness than the kitchen’s actual temperature, which was quite warm.

Robert suddenly stopped when he realized that though he was now, in body an infant, his mind was still that of a eighteen-year-old man. And yet he thought frantically, I thanks to what they’ve done to me behave like a typical baby! In his mind he shouted, Well I won’t do it! Do you hear me? I won’t!

Robert tried to voice his thoughts aloud, but was completely inarticulate. He said, "Awe gah goo ah."

Sofy looked down at Robert with a knowing smile and said, "Pore lampkin! We’d better get you dressed up nice and warm before you get sick!"

She stood up and carried Robert from the kitchen, followed by Johnny Miller. She took him back to the room where he’d found all the toys. In the struggle to maintain the maturity of his mind if not that of his body, Robert had convinced himself that he had only to somehow escape from the Tate house in order to restore his body and mind to normal. However, as he entered the room where his body had been so greatly changed, he was suddenly exhausted in body and mind, so much so that at first he did not recognize what he was seeing when Sofy carried him into the room.

Then Robert saw that the room where he’d found all the toys was itself now greatly changed. All the toys, with some noteworthy exceptions, were gone. The playroom had now become a fully-equipped nursery. Robert closed his eyes against the sight, but when Sofy laid him down after a moment, he opened them again.

Robert saw that he was lying in a crib with Sofy standing over him with a diaper in her hands. In the blink of an eye Robert realized that the power which held him in its grip was too great to be resisted. It was Robert’s last mature thought. Thus as Aunt Sofy leaned over him, Bobby’s body shrank for one last time until it was that of a baby only a few weeks old. Aunt Sofy smiled reassuringly at Bobby as she diapered him, then dressed him in a pair of warm sleepers with bunny rabbits pictured on them. This done, Bobby gurgled with pleasure as Aunt Sofy lifted him out of the crib and carried him to the living room.

Sarah Tate was waiting there and opened her arms to receive Bobby, who crowed with pleasure at sight of her. She said smiling broadly, "Oh, there’s my baby at last! I’ve waited for you for such a long time."

Professor Franklin Harper looked on sullenly, smacking his lips hungrily. Sarah sat down in a rocker and began to breast-feed her baby while Johnny Miller and Franklin Harper stared at one another, one with the eyes of a wolf and the other with the eyes of a beaten dog a hound, to be exact. Sarah looked at them both and smiled.

She asked, "So, now how do you feel with your scraps of knowledge, Professor Harper, concerning the so-called art of witchcraft? For once you have nothing to say but then you never really have do you. Surrounded by knowledge you’ve never learned because you were to busy taking credit for other people’s work."

Franklin Harper made no reply, being unable to, because he had become the black and tan hound of Robert’s toy box vision.

Sarah sat in her rocker and rocked her baby who was by now asleep after filling his stomach with his mother’s milk. The black and tan hound which had once been a college professor lay at Sarah’s feet begging for mercy with his eyes. Sarah looked down at the dog with a face of stone.

Then she looked up at Aunt Sofy and said smiling warmly, "Auntie, please take Bobby and change him, then put him down for the night."

Aunt Sofy took the baby from Sarah and left the room.

Sarah stood up then and said coldly, looking down first at the hound at her feet, then up at Johnny Miller, "Now it is time, son of the moon, to deal with this mortal vermin. Therefore, come out into the world where it and you belong."

Sarah walked out on to the wide front porch, then stopped and stood for a long moment looking at Johnny Miller and the hound which had followed close on her heels, half-crawling on its belly. Johnny looked at Sarah, smiling patiently, his wolf’s fangs gleaming in the deceptively soft moonlight. Sarah Tate looked up at the night sky and spoke solemn words.

She said, "Franklin Harper, become and remain till the end of your days what you are and have always been at heart, a miserable slinking hound. He who was once your son has, through the change which I have made, become a child of the moon and I will be both mother and father to him. You are unworthy of the gift of a son. Therefore, go forth now and hunt for scraps of food as once you did for scraps of knowledge when you were the shadow of a man. Nevertheless, beware of the hunter that I shall set on your heels. He shall pursue you as once you pursued the knowledge of others for your own gain and nothing more. So run now with only one hope in your miserable heart, and that is for the surcease of death."

The hound gave one beseeching whine then fled from the porch. Watching it go, Sarah laughed softly, then turned her attention to Johnny Miller.

She said smiling broadly, "Johnny Miller, son of the moon, become what you have always been at heart, a wolf." Instantly the form of the young boy vanished and in its place stood a wolf whose fur coat was as dark as the night around him.

Sarah looked at the wolf and smiling, said, "Go forth, my hunter, and find the prey that I have provided. And when you have found your prey, see that you devour it so that not one scrap of flesh or bone remains beneath the smiling face of our mother the moon."

The wolf walked to the edge of the porch, stopped for an instant and looked back at Sarah. The wolf’s eyes, for that instant, were the grateful, eager eyes of a boy; then the wolf, too, disappeared into the night to begin its long hunt beneath the shining moon. THE END

 

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