moon, and were convinced they saw not passing storm clouds but the witch takingflight. Others swore that the flashes of light seen upon the Berg were not wildfires ignited by the lightning but the witch’s bonfires. Tonight, they whispered, she was celebrating her dominion over all of Brixen.
Even the rats seemed fearful of the witch, or whatever force of nature worked its wicked magic upon the land. They had been unnaturally bold upon their reappearance, hardly bothering to hide or skulk. But now, while the storm prevailed, there was not a rat to be seen.
In the Bauer cottage, Oma rocked so hard that her chair inched its way across the room.
Mama and Papa fretted and paced as the wind carried upon it the clang of cowbells and a chorus of restless lowing. Finally unable to contain their worry, they threw on their cloaks, lit a lantern, and ventured into the darkness and toward the barn.
“They’ll be all right,” said Rudi as he peered out the window. “Won’t they?”
Oma snorted. “They’ll be fine, the poor dumb creatures.”
“I don’t mean the cows,” Rudi said.
“Neither do I,” she snapped. Then she sighed. “They’re only going twenty steps, child. I should think they won’t be hit by lightning in twenty steps.”
Rudi didn’t say it out loud, but he wasn’t only worried about the lightning.
“It’s just as well they’re gone,” said Oma, and she stopped rocking and fixed her gaze upon Rudi. “What do you suppose is happening here? No stories, now, or vague excuses. Tell me.”
Rudi had been afraid to even think about the new plague of rats, or the storm, or what they might mean, much less to say a word out loud to anyone. But now he felt an odd sort of relief at Oma’s request, and the words spilled from his mouth.
“I don’t know what’s happening. I wish I did! The rats are not just rats…. There must be a curse after all. Is it my fault? Because of the coin? But I’ve heard no strange singing. I’ve had no nightmares for months. Doesn’t that mean the witch got her coin back? I thought that meant she got her coin back.”
“You’re babbling,” said Oma. “But it’s a truthful babble, I know. You never could spin a lie. Tell me, then: If the witch has her coin, why is the village being tormented so?”
Lightning crackled and flashed outside, as if to underscore her question.
Rudi bit his lip. “I thought perhaps you would know why.”
“Me?” sniffed Oma. “How would I know? I’ve never seen such a curse as rats. And for what? What have we done now to rile the witch so badly?”
Then an idea came to Rudi, as easily as if it had been there all along. “Do you suppose someone else has found the coin after all this time, and has brought it back to Brixen?” Why hadn’t he thought of that before? It made perfect sense. And it gave him a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this was not his fault after all.
But Oma shook her head. “I would have heard about it. No one in Brixen could keep such a secret for long. Besides, why would the witch torment the entire village for the foolish mistake of one person? Why not simple, straightforward nightmares, such as you had? Perhaps the witch has not recovered her coin after all. Since the nightmares didn’t have the desired result, perhaps she is trying something new.”
Rudi gulped. “This is all my fault, then?”
“It seems so,” said Oma, but her voice was kind.
The glimmer of hope sputtered and died in the pit of Rudi’s stomach.
“And yet … it doesn’t fit,” continued Oma, rocking harder, as if it helped her to think. “Rats. That doesn’t sound like our witch.” She drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair, muttering to herself, but her words were lost in a rumble of thunder.
Finally, she looked up at Rudi, and her eyes shone. “Do you remember what Herbert Wenzelsaid?” She pointed a finger at Rudi. “He said that rats were not the witch’s sort of hex.”
Rudi thought for a moment, and then he
Even the rats seemed fearful of the witch, or whatever force of nature worked its wicked magic upon the land. They had been unnaturally bold upon their reappearance, hardly bothering to hide or skulk. But now, while the storm prevailed, there was not a rat to be seen.
In the Bauer cottage, Oma rocked so hard that her chair inched its way across the room.
Mama and Papa fretted and paced as the wind carried upon it the clang of cowbells and a chorus of restless lowing. Finally unable to contain their worry, they threw on their cloaks, lit a lantern, and ventured into the darkness and toward the barn.
“They’ll be all right,” said Rudi as he peered out the window. “Won’t they?”
Oma snorted. “They’ll be fine, the poor dumb creatures.”
“I don’t mean the cows,” Rudi said.
“Neither do I,” she snapped. Then she sighed. “They’re only going twenty steps, child. I should think they won’t be hit by lightning in twenty steps.”
Rudi didn’t say it out loud, but he wasn’t only worried about the lightning.
“It’s just as well they’re gone,” said Oma, and she stopped rocking and fixed her gaze upon Rudi. “What do you suppose is happening here? No stories, now, or vague excuses. Tell me.”
Rudi had been afraid to even think about the new plague of rats, or the storm, or what they might mean, much less to say a word out loud to anyone. But now he felt an odd sort of relief at Oma’s request, and the words spilled from his mouth.
“I don’t know what’s happening. I wish I did! The rats are not just rats…. There must be a curse after all. Is it my fault? Because of the coin? But I’ve heard no strange singing. I’ve had no nightmares for months. Doesn’t that mean the witch got her coin back? I thought that meant she got her coin back.”
“You’re babbling,” said Oma. “But it’s a truthful babble, I know. You never could spin a lie. Tell me, then: If the witch has her coin, why is the village being tormented so?”
Lightning crackled and flashed outside, as if to underscore her question.
Rudi bit his lip. “I thought perhaps you would know why.”
“Me?” sniffed Oma. “How would I know? I’ve never seen such a curse as rats. And for what? What have we done now to rile the witch so badly?”
Then an idea came to Rudi, as easily as if it had been there all along. “Do you suppose someone else has found the coin after all this time, and has brought it back to Brixen?” Why hadn’t he thought of that before? It made perfect sense. And it gave him a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this was not his fault after all.
But Oma shook her head. “I would have heard about it. No one in Brixen could keep such a secret for long. Besides, why would the witch torment the entire village for the foolish mistake of one person? Why not simple, straightforward nightmares, such as you had? Perhaps the witch has not recovered her coin after all. Since the nightmares didn’t have the desired result, perhaps she is trying something new.”
Rudi gulped. “This is all my fault, then?”
“It seems so,” said Oma, but her voice was kind.
The glimmer of hope sputtered and died in the pit of Rudi’s stomach.
“And yet … it doesn’t fit,” continued Oma, rocking harder, as if it helped her to think. “Rats. That doesn’t sound like our witch.” She drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair, muttering to herself, but her words were lost in a rumble of thunder.
Finally, she looked up at Rudi, and her eyes shone. “Do you remember what Herbert Wenzelsaid?” She pointed a finger at Rudi. “He said that rats were not the witch’s sort of hex.”
Rudi thought for a moment, and then he
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