Witch’s Chair

Cernunnos, Mosaïcultures Internationales, Montreal Botanical Gardens, 2013That Cedric and his horned serpents!

But then he’s always been an odd one. Those eyes! One green, one white!

Is it true that means he’s a witch? Or half-witch, seeing as only one eye is white.

The girls go mad for him. I don’t understand it. He’s nothing but an uneducated lout who likes playing in the dirt.

And that punk hair! The stupid hat!

Those serpents drive me crazy. Why couldn’t he have rabbits or guinea pigs like any normal person? I have to call him twenty-five times a day to come and get them out of my vegetable garden.

You wouldn’t believe how arrogant he is, the way he struts about town as if everyone has nothing better to do than look at him. Well, he’ll find out soon enough he won’t always be a pretty face (if you’re the sort of person who thinks that kind of tough watch-me-climb-out-of-the-earth face is pretty).

The chief of police is insisting Cedric undergo the witch test.

Cedric says no way, he’s done nothing wrong and he’s paid all the fines for walking his serpents off the leash.

We all know that the chief of police is simply looking for a good excuse to tie Cedric to the witch’s chair and dunk him in the river.

Sometimes you have to wonder if Cedric has the sense he was born with – why did he have to choose the wife of the chief of police to flirt with? (“Much more than flirting,” says Essie Majors, my next-door neighbour. “You wouldn’t believe the half of it.”)

I certainly don’t believe any of it. Why would Cedric mess with her? He can choose anyone he fancies. Why would he want a scrawny woman like her? A woman even older than myself! The way she dresses and does her hair is ridiculous for a woman her age.

The witch dunking is scheduled for 2.16 p.m. on Wednesday.

I have everything planned: I’ll wear my new red dress with the pleats and the frilly collar. I’ve made an appointment at the hairdresser’s. I thought I’d have my hair put up with those sweet little curls coming down over my forehead and in front of my ears.

I know exactly what to do:

As Cedric and the chair hit the water, I’ll dive into the river, swifter than a speeding arrow in my red dress, knife between my teeth. (I only wish I could pause mid-flight to see the expression on the face of the wife of the chief of police!)

I’ll slice through the ropes and Cedric will leap from the chair and seize me in his arms, green eye and white eye blazing with gratitude.

In that moment he’ll realize I’m his one true love. Finally.

We’ll swim downriver until we find a little thatched cottage on the bank where I’ll throw out his hat and cut his hair and we’ll live happily ever after. Probably his damned horned serpents will join us, although I’d rather they didn’t.

*****

Thank you for stopping by and reading this week’s Thursday Blurt. It was inspired by The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge: Face.

The photo: Cernunnos, Mosaïcultures Internationales de Montréal, Montréal Botanical Gardens, 2013.

Please note: all material on this website, except for comments by others, is © Susi Lovell.

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3 thoughts on “Witch’s Chair

  1. Pingback: What Did I Discover From My Year of Blurt Writing? | Susi Lovell

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