Page 3 of The Neighborhood Witch

“Hugo!” a man shouted. “Hold up a sec.”

Hugo stopped. He closed his eyes with enough force to will him home, but alas, he was still standing on that sidewalk. When he opened his eyes, an older gentleman ambled down his gray wooden steps, joined by his wife.

“Hi, George,” Hugo responded with a dejected voice. “Hi, Julia.”

“How are you doing?” Julia asked.

“I’m fine,” he responded with the same monotone answer as before.

“I wanted to let you know that, well, that Elizabeth is greatly missed at school this year,” George said as he hugged his wife. “It’s… It’s not the same without her. She brought so much joy to the students and us teachers. Her students are taking it pretty hard. We’re all taking it pretty hard. We’re going to miss her.”

“How do you think I feel? Every day. Day after day. I’m home alone, waiting for her to walk through that door. This has been one long, horrible nightmare,” Hugo shouted. “I want to see her smile again. Hear her laugh. See the brightness in her eyes. But nothing happens. I’m reminded of it daily. I don’t need some jackass to do itfor me. As far as Elizabeth’s concerned, just stop. Stop asking how I’m doing. Stop talking about her. JUST STOP.”

Hugo hunched over, fists clenched. He let out another barbaric, soul shattering yawp. His heart raced as George and Julia stood there in shock. Tears welled in Hugo’s eyes as he fixated on their horrified expressions. Hugo broke eye contact.

He sighed and noticed George and Julia smiling at him. He wanted to say those words to everyone who ever asked how he was doing. Hugo slumped his shoulders in defeat. He attempted a half smile.

“Thank you,” he replied in a sad, monotone voice. “She touched so many people and will be missed.”

“If you ever need anything,” Julia began. “Please. Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Please stop asking me how I’m doing, Hugo thought before replying with a simple, “Thank you.”

Hugo and Max continued their journey home. They turned down one more side street. They passed a few more houses before arriving at 1691 Ravenhill Dr.—a white, Folk Victorian home trimmed in dark green. Rectangular with tall, pointed gabled roofing. The paint was peeling from the siding, and the windows were dirty. Bushes on the side of the house were unkept and had grown wild over the summer. Elizabeth was the gardener, not Hugo.

An expansive porch spanned the entire front of the house. Stairs led up to a green door. Hugo and Max started up the stairs when someone from across the street called, “Hugo!”

Hugo stopped.I just want to go inside.He turned around to see Johanna Newes marching down the porch of 1692 Ravenhill Drive. Hugo relaxed, knowing Johanna would never askthat question.

“Look at this.” Johanna pointed to the house next door. “Look what the new neighbors did.”

Hugo followed Johanna’s pointing to his right toward 1693 Ravenhill Dr. The once beige house was now a dark purple outlinedwith black trim. The front gazebo like porch was a dark shade of gray. The front door was as black as the trim.

“The house sold? When did that happen?”

“Two days ago,” Johanna replied. “Look what they did to it.”

“It’s purple. Was it purple this morning?”

“No. I’ve been home all day, and I never saw anyone paint that house.”

“I kind of like it.”

“How can you like—” her voice trailed off. She tugged at her muted gray button up sweater. “It’s an abomination.”

“It’s not that bad,” Hugo assured her. “It brings character to the neighborhood.”

“We’re a simple town. We don’t need any funny business.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not!” responded Johanna.

Max nestled against her leg, trying to get Johanna to scratch her head.

“You can pet her,” Hugo said.

Johanna timidly pet Max’s head twice before looking back at Hugo. “We live in a quiet neighborhood. If people are allowed to paint their houses purple, then next thing you know, the whole place changes. I don’t want the neighborhood to change. I like it as it is!” Her fingers twice tapped the silver cloak clasp pinned to the lapel of her sweater.

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