Chapter 9

Nine

I got picked…

How? Why? I mean, yeah, it’s a huge honor but why me? I’m sure there’s someone else who deserves the honor more than me.

When I had opened the door, preparing myself to battle some imaginary scorned lover, I found the hallway empty. Taking a step out, looking to my left and right, I ended up pinwheeling my arms about, trying to grab the frame of my open door, as I found my feet hitting something rather large and immovable.

Strong arms wrapped around my middle, pulling me against a firm chest, keeping me from falling to my death.

Okay, probably not my death per se but I swear my life flashed before my eyes. How brief and pitiful it may be. And there’s no doubt I would have at least gotten hurt. Maybe even broken a bone.

“What’s wrong, love?” Will’s lips brushed the curve of my ear as he spoke, his whispered words sending shivers throughout my body.

He called me love…

“I got picked,” I whispered the words, almost in fear of someone overhearing. Despite the fact there was no one in the hallway, you never know. Nosey neighbors could be eavesdropping from their doors.

“Did you have any doubt?”

Wait, what? Of course I did. Why doesn’t he? Unless there is a message board that I don’t know about where the chosen witch is announced before the vessel shows up.

Maybe there is. I mean, it would make sense so she would know to expect its arrival. We wouldn’t want some kids to destroying it or anything after all. Though that would be pushing the freedoms of Mischief Night a bit too far and condemn us all.

But then how come I’ve never heard about such a board? You would think, if there was one, that it would be in the village square.

“You’re putting too much thought into this,” Will’s voice made me jump, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Come back inside and get what you need. I’ll bring the box in.”

I sighed, pulling away as he dropped his arms, “You’re right. I am.”

Well, there’s only one thing to do. Suck it up and break out the paper and my finest markers because I’ll be damned if I mess this up because I decided to rush. In probably more ways than one.

Will was right. I was overthinking things.

First order of business was to go to the pantry and dig out the nicest tablecloth I owned. While, yes, cleanup would be so much easier if I just used a big garbage bag, there’s no way I’m going to cut corners on such an important ceremony.

Besides, he deserves the best.

And laundry is easy to do.

Spreading it out on the makeshift coffee table, I nodded for Will to set the black box down. As per custom, only the chosen witch may touch the vessel, so it was with shaking hands that I reached in and pulled out the most perfect pumpkin I have ever seen to grace a pumpkin patch.

It was the perfect, classic pumpkin shape, without a single blemish or even a speck of dirt on the skin. Every side was a deep orange color, complete with the traditional green stem sticking straight up. And I’m sure it will be the perfect thickness when I start cutting into it.

With it sitting in the center of the table, I ran about my apartment in search of a pad of paper, pencils, a sharpener, a big pink eraser, ruler, scissors, and markers for when I’m ready to trace the finalized design on its skin. I only have one chance to mark it up. One chance to cut into its flesh.

Will sat at the end of the couch, silently watching me go from one side of the room to the other. Junk drawer opened, then closed, then opened again as I remembered that something else I needed had been shoved in there on one of my days of lazy cleaning.

Tap tap tap…

The sound drew my attention to the window on yet another trip across the room.

Stopping for a moment, I opened the window high enough to allow Raiden in and resumed my search.

“Sit on the couch or the chair, I don’t care, but don’t you dare touch that pumpkin,” I hissed as he hopped onto the window frame, tilting his head as he looked the pumpkin over.

“Will, this is Raiden,” I called over my shoulder from the kitchen, “Raiden, this is Will. He will be living here so be nice.”

Kneeling on the floor, next to the coffee table, I began drawing several circles on a sheet of paper.

“Tok, tok,” I could see Raiden tilt his head as he looked over my shoulder from the corner of my eye.

Taking a deep breath, I stared at the pumpkin, trying to envision what the perfect face would be, “Would you believe it? I got picked to create the vessel. Me.”

“Tok.” The single sound conveyed a sense of smugness, his beak tilted up as if he was to say ‘of course you got picked.’

“Wait… You knew?” putting the pencil down on the floor, I turned so I could watch him, “You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”

Scowling, I turned my back on him when he began preening. Without looking I knew he was hoping from side to side on the back of the couch as he chirped and cooed.

I don’t know how he did it, I don’t even know who picks the carver, let alone how the process works, but I know he had some hand in me being picked.

The sound of wings beating through the air sounded behind me as Raiden leaped off the couch and flew over to the table chair across from me.

I huffed, putting the paper down again, knowing he won’t leave me alone until I accept his apology. “You know what? I don’t want to know how you did it. It doesn’t matter. You know very well once a witch is chosen she no one else can be.”

“How do you know what he’s saying?” Will asked from the couch.

Shrugging, I focused back on my work, ignoring Raiden, “I just do.”

As the hours pass, Will and Raiden silently watch me, leaving me to my thoughts and mutterings. Every now and then a plate with food or a cup of water would show up at my side, only to disappear once they were empty. At some point the sun began to set, Will turning on the lights to make sure I didn’t have to stop if I didn’t have to.

Meanwhile I zoned out as I continued to scratch out several different designs on the paper. Diamond eyes with triangle nose, wide open mouth versus a mouth with a few teeth. Bouncing between traditional styles and more updated versions, trying to find a face that calls out to me.

Thankfully, since I work out of my home as a baker, I not only didn’t have to worry about calling into work, but I also had every tool I could ever need to make whatever I create a reality.

Final touches in place, satisfied with one design out of all others, I carefully placed the vessel back into the box before cleaning up the area. The tablecloth was tossed into the washer with a load of laundry that I had been ignoring for the last few days. The pumpkin’s seeds were washed of the slimy goo that coats them when they’re inside the gourd and placed in a container in the fridge. Pens and other items got thrown back into the junk drawer, while the knives and such were placed in the sink to be washed later. Probably tomorrow, since Will and I won’t be getting back until much later.

Now all that was left was to find some clothes for me and Will to wear and to take the vessel to the council so it can be prepared for tonight's ceremony.