[ WP ] Since the Salem Witch Trials , witches have gotten better at hiding ... This one slips up .

I looked at the ticket, and then back at Sandra. There was an odd ringing in my ears, a sense of unreality, almost like being lightheaded. 
 
 `` We... won?'' 
 
 She did n't seem elated. If anything, she was utterly....*terrified*? I suppose sudden, unexpected wealth has a lot of possible responses, but I would n't have expected *terror* to be one of them. 
 
 `` We have to move. We have to drop everything and get out of the country. *NOW! *'' 
 
 `` Whoa, woha. hold on, babe. I mean... this is good, right? We can pay off the bills, get that land you were talking about, right?'' 
 
 `` No! We have to leave. It was n't meant to be this much! It was just supposed to be a few hundred! A small amount to take the edge off the rent!'' 
 
 I could n't quite process what I was hearing. I kept looking at the ticket in my hand, and then up at a clearly panicking Sandra. She was already halfway to the hall closet where we keep the suitcases. 
 
 Kat looked up from her perch on the couch arm, her pointed ears perked up, feline nose sniffing at the air, trying to determine what was disturbing the normally unflappable Giver of Food. 
 
 `` Uh, Sandra? What do you mean `` meant to?'' 
 
 She pulled the big red suitcase out and shot me a distracted glance. 
 
 `` What are you talking about?'' 
 
 `` You just said `` this was meant to be just a few hundred dollars.''.'' I held up the ticket and pointed to it. `` You knew this would happen?'' 
 
 He face froze for a second. In that half an instant I was n't sure if I was looking at Sandra Kendal, physics student at Salem State U, incredible cook, hiking fanatic, long-time girlfriend and cat-lover, or....something else. Something far removed from the woman I though I knew. 
 
 `` Oh, shi... ft. Can you forget I said that?'' 
 
 Then she began muttering to herself. 
 
 `` What am I talking about... I do n't need to ask.'' One handed extended toward me, and lights began appearing. Whitish wisps that swirled around her hand. 
 
 `` *Eradicate Memory! *'' 
 
 The wisps shot out toward me... but fizzled out, vanishing like raindrops in a furnace as they left her hand. I just stood there bewildered, while some part of my mind wondered if her mental breakdown was contagious. I *thought* those mushrooms at dinner were just fine. Had I accidentally cooked up one of the crazy ones? And would a bad dinner produce wisp-light fingers? 
 
 Sandra was shaking her hand, and looked up at me. Again, that half-instant of something old and otherworldly, and then she sank to the hall floor. 
 
 I could recognize a sob by the way her shoulder heaved up, and was already moving. Halfway there, a black, furry missile skittered past me and cannoned into her arms, purring loudly. 
 
 `` Sandra? Talk to me, babe. What's going on?'' 
 
 There was a hesitation, and then a sigh. 
 
 `` Three years, and I screw up. Three years, and it takes one unguarded comment to ruin it all.'' 
 
 Defiantly bright eyes looked up at me. Two pairs. One from Sandra, glistening with unshed tears, and one from Kat. 
 
 `` I'm a witch, Dave. A magic spell user.'' 
 
 A thousand thoughts and suspicious tumbled through my mind, mentally replaying every coffee date, every band night, every hike we'd ever taken. That time we'd camped out in Maine, and got up to see the sun rise over the ocean. Our holiday to see Yosemite, the late nights laid out by the fire, cat sprawled with us as we puzzled through advanced nuclear theories. I tried to reframe that with Sandra as a *witch*, but could n't. 
 
 For starters... 
 
 `` That's impossible.'' Oops. I'd just blurted that out. 
 
 `` Why? Is it really so hard to believe that I can reshape reality to my whim?'' 
 
 Challenging tone, aggressive posture. Every boyfriend sense in my body was screaming'Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!'. I knew precisely what I should say. 
 
 `` Nah, witches are supposed to be ugly. you're too beautiful to be a witch''. *Shit, that was n't right. That's not what to say in this situation. * 
 
 I could *see* rage, indignation, amusement and exasperation war across her face. Amusement won, but by a fraction of a hair. Had the situation been less bizarre, I suspect rage might have won out. 
 
 `` You.....you....always say *eaxctly* the rightly wrong thing.'' 
 
 Sandra took a deep breath. 
 
 `` I'm a witch. Was born one, raised one, and am one. My Mother was a witch, and my grandmother was one. You know of the Salem Witch Trials. That was one of the coven getting a little too carefree with her magic.'' 
 
 I'd been manfully suppressing a `` that explains a lot'' comment since she mentioned her mother was a witch, but it got chased out of my head by the last comment. 
 
 `` I thought the Trials were blind panic? Superstitious people lynching people so they could steal their land and money?'' 
 
 `` Those were the *public* trials. The Witches Association of America was conducting their own Trials at the same time. Great-Aunt told tales of how they punished little Amelia for her fairy lights.... 
 
 `` They... we....do n't like attention. Witches have always been around here, and some of them went a little power-hungry. They decided they did n't want to live'comfortable but innocous' lives as the Association had laid down, but instead started gathering their own estates. Their own fortunes.'' 
 
 `` And the Witch Trials were born. How many actual witches did the mobs get?'' 
 
 `` None. The Association got fifteen of the twenty-five in the area though. The rest were told to keep their heads down for their own good. Since then it's been an unwritten rule. You do n't raise your head above where it's supposed to be.'' 
 
 `` And a Powerball win raises our heads a lot'' 
 
 She laughed, a broken sound. 
 
 `` 800 million? More than just a little!'' 
 
 `` So, you used magic on the ticket?'' I held up the incriminating artifact. 
 
 `` Just a tiny bit of scrying. I intentionally got some of the numbers wrong. it was meant to be a small win. Look, the four numbers....and....oh, *dustings*. 
 
 `` He screwed up. The guy at the shop screwed up. I wanted that to be a 35 and it's the winning 36. And the powerball was meant to be a 8, but he typed in 9.'' 
 
 A thought sprang up. *Don'tsayit, don'tsayit, don'tsayit-* 
 
 `` You're not a very *good* witch are you?. Could n't what was it...'scry' this win, and your spell to I assume erase my memory did n't work either.'' 
 
 She punched me in the arm. 
 
 `` Spellcasting does n't work when you're emotional.'' 
 
 *DON'TSAYIT, DON'TSAYIT, DON'TSAYIT-* 
 
 `` Oh, come on, you're bursting to say something.'' 
 
 *Whoosh*. `` It's a wonder it ever works then.'' 
 
 The fighting lasted about ten minutes. She started by throwing Kat at me, and moved on to the cushions shortly afterward. I counter-attacked with a standard tickle formation, but was blocked by the now airborne towel from the drying rack. 
 
 Finally, we both calmed down, collapsing in mutal exhaustion by the fireplace. The gentle crackling warmth of the fire on one side, the firmer warmth of Sandra on the other. I supposed I could deal with this whole witchery thing, it would just take some thinking about. 
 
 `` OK, then. We're going to need to sort this out. I'm sure we can think of something.'' 
 
 `` I already have, Dave.'' Her voice was steady, and there was *something* in it. `` I really am sorry about this.'' 
 
 `` *Eradicate Memory*!'' 
 
 White sparks and then...... 
 
 Sandra knelt beside the fireplace, about to put a new log on. The TV burbled in the background, something about a nature documentary. What had I been doing again? I was sure I was washing the dishes.... 
 
 Sandra chucked the wood on the fire, as well as something else - a small paper that crisped and burned away. 
 
 `` What was I doing again?'' I normally did n't have these lapses, but come to think of it, I had been having more and more of them lately. 
 
 `` Tidying the hall closet, I think.'' 
 
 `` Oh, thanks, babe.'' 
 
 I got up and moved to the hall. Damned if I could remember *why* I'd decided to start with the big red suitcase.... 

