"And likely to remain one," replied the woman. "But that is not my problem."
"Well, it should be," said a voice from behind them.
Jennifer hopped around as fast as her squat body
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would let her. "Miss Applegate! What are you doing here?"
The old woman frowned. "I was worried about Brandon when you and Sharra left the museum this morning," she said. "I felt that you might be in trouble. I had no idea how much trouble!" She turned back to the black-haired woman. "What kind of a person are you, anyway, to do something like this to a child?"
"A very old, very fierce, very desperate person," replied the witch evenly.
Jennifer blinked. Old? The witch looked as if she were in her twenties at the most.
"So desperate," continued the woman, her voice rising, "that I would suggest you gather these children and take them with you before I do something that makes you wish you were all toads!"
"Not until you turn Jennifer back into herself!" shouted Sharra.
"Frankly, I'm not sure that I can," said the black-haired woman. "And even if I wanted to, it would take more work than I'm willing to put into it. Besides, she doesn't need my help. All she has to do is find someone willing to trade places with her!"
"Right," whispered Jennifer. "Should be easy. I know dozens of people just dying to become toads. And I've got the secret--only a kiss away."
She blinked. Only a kiss away? An idea began to form in her head.
"You guys should go," she said. "Take Brandon home where he'll be safe. I'm going to stay."
"What?" cried Ellen and Sharra together.
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"Jennifer, you can't do that," said Skippy.
"Do you think I can go home as a toad?" asked Jennifer. "It's not something Mom and Dad are ready to cope with. But it's okay. I don't like the real world. I want to stay here."
The witch looked at Jennifer with new interest. "That's an interesting thought. There are ways in which you might be useful, my dear."
"Jennifer," said Miss Applegate, "I can't let you ..."
"You don't understand," said the witch. "Inside these doors, I'm the one who lets or doesn't let; I make the rules. You don't get in unless I let you-- or unless I make a mistake, as when I left the gate open for these children, and you slipped through, you old hag."
"Hey," said Jennifer. "Don't talk to her like that!"
"Quiet!" snapped the witch, and Jennifer realized that if she was to have any chance at all, she had better do as the woman said.
"And now," she shrieked, waving her hands, "I want you out!"
A strong wind began to blow inside the shop, the gusts so fierce they pushed Ellen, Sharra, Skippy, Brandon, and Miss Applegate right across the floor.
"Jennifer!" she heard as her friends went sliding toward the door. "Jennniiifffeeerrrrr!" And then they were gone.
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"Alone at last," said the witch with a smile.
"My heart's desire fulfilled," sneered Bufo.
"Listen, sonny, don't be flip or this may turn out to be more unpleasant for you than it needs to be."
Bufo turned to Jennifer. "Sorry I got you into this, kid," he said, using his best Bogart imitation.
"It's not your fault," said Jennifer, wishing everyone would just go away for a few minutes so that she could think. But she didn't have a few minutes. Hopping forward, she looked up at the witch and asked, "What are you going to do to him?"
"Just a little minor surgery. I want the jewel he carries in his forehead."
"Hey!" said Bufo. "I've had that for a long time! I don't think I want to part with it."
"What you want is not an issue," replied the witch.
"What jewel?" asked Jennifer, trying to sound innocent.
Bufo looked at her in surprise, started to say something, then closed his mouth.
"The toad has a jewel in his forehead," said the witch. "One of only two such jewels in all the world, and the only one available now. It is said to provide perfect happiness to the person who possesses it. I intend to possess it."
"What will happen to Bufo when you take it out?" asked Jennifer nervously.
The witch smiled. "Wait and see," she said slyly.
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"Based on what happened the last time, I think you'll find the results quite--interesting."
What does she mean by that? wondered Jennifer nervously. Out loud she said, "Do you mean I can watch?"
"No reason not to. Depending on what I decide to do with you, it could be good training." Bending, she scooped Jennifer into her hands, then deposited her on the countertop, a few feet from Bufo.
"How come Bufo has the only jewel?" asked Jennifer, genuinely puzzled this time. "Is he that special?"
Despite himself, Bufo puffed a bit with pride.
"Oh, he certainly is," replied the woman. "There were only two such toads in all the world."
"Where did they come from?"
"My mouth," said the woman, turning and smiling a broad, terrifying smile.
"Mom?" Bufo cried in astonishment. "Is it really you?"
Jennifer blinked. "But that would make you more than five hundred years old!" she said.
"That's right," said the woman.
"But you're so beautiful ..."
"You can learn a lot in five hundred years," said the woman. "The outside is fairly easy to change. It's the inside that takes work. Would you like to see my real face?"
Terrified yet fascinated, Jennifer whispered, "Yes."
The woman turned away for a moment. When she turned back, Jennifer could not help but cry
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out in dismay. She had never seen anyone so ugly in her life. The woman's long nose had a big hairy wart on the end of it. Her pointed chin had another. Her lank gray hair hung over the black shawl that she had draped over her hunched shoulders. When she smiled, you could see five yellowed teeth--five, and no more--poking out from grayish pink gums. Beneath her bushy gray brows glittered a pair of black eyes that seemed to look right into your soul.
Her reflection was repeated over and over in the mirrors that lined the room.
"You can get awfully old in five hundred years," said the old woman. "But there are ways to cover it up."
She turned, turned back, and the hag was gone. In her place was the beautiful young woman again.
"What about the curse?" asked Bufo. "I thought you couldn't speak without something crawling out of your mouth."
"Ah, now you get to the root of things," said the woman sweetly. Jennifer stared, trying to find the hag's face beneath the beauty. But it was as if the transformation had never occurred.
"What do you mean?" asked Bufo.
"I mean that you get to the root of why I became a witch at all," she said opening a drawer and pulling out a handful of tweezers. "Once I recovered from the initial shock of the curse, I learned to hold my tongue, so to speak, for the most part. I only opened my mouth to eat or when I was
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surprised into speaking. But curses can be counterproductive. I suppose that crone in the woods who first cursed my tongue with the vermin spell intended to teach me a lesson. Well, I learned many lessons in the long run. But they all came from the witch who finally took me on as an apprentice."
Spreading the tweezers on the counter before her, she began to point at them with one neatly manicured fingertip.
"I need to choose my tools carefully," she said, half to Jennifer, half to herself. "As a comrade of mine once said, 'These things must be done delicately.' Ah--this should do just fine."
Lifting the largest pair, she held them to the light.
"I still don't understand," said Bufo.
It was clear to Jennifer that he was stalling for time. Probably clear to the witch, too, she thought. But I guess when you're five hundred years old, a few minutes one way or the other doesn't make that much difference.
"In order to get the spell removed, I had to find someone who had the kn
owledge to remove it," said the woman. "Which in this case meant I had to find a witch. She took me on as an apprentice. But the fee was high: I had to bring her a Jewel of Perfect Happiness. When I asked her where to find it--spitting out a few spiders and snakes in the process--she told me that the first two toads to come forth from my mouth, one male, one female, each carried such a jewel in their foreheads.
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All I had to do was find one of the toads, remove the jewel, and she would teach me everything she knew--including how to control the curse."
"Esmerelda!" cried Bufo, and this time there was no trace of an imitation, only his own voice, thick with grief and loss. "You stole my Esmerelda. What did you do to her?"
"The same thing I'm about to do to you," replied the witch calmly.
"Where is she?" demanded Bufo, his grief giving way to anger. "Is she alive?"
"I don't have the slightest idea," said the witch, her voice calm, unruffled.
"But how can you do this to him?" said Jennifer. "I mean, he's like your kid or something!"
The witch turned to Jennifer. "There's always more where he came from," she said softly, her eyes glittering, cold, deadly.
"What do you mean?" whispered Jennifer.
"I told you, the spell is under control. Not gone. Just under"--here she paused for a moment, closed her eyes, and then finished the sentence--"control."
As she spoke the last word, a rat tumbled out of her mouth, dropping to the floor at her feet.
"Run for your life!" cried Bufo.
Eyes wide with astonishment, the rat scurried across the floor and disappeared behind the cabinet.
Jennifer shivered. The witch opened her eyes. "Disgusting, isn't it?" she asked, her voice bitter.
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"I have to constantly be on the alert to keep it from happening. Means I tend to keep to myself a lot. One slip in polite company, one careless word at a tea party, one toad in a teacup, and I'm not invited back. It's been a lonely few centuries. I think I'm about due a little happiness. I've always regretted giving away that first jewel. After all, it came out of my mouth, even if it was wrapped in a toad when it arrived. So it should have been mine. Fortunately, I knew there was one more available-- one more chance at perfect happiness.
"And now I've found it," she said, stepping toward Bufo, the tweezers outstretched before her.
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THIRTEEN
The Temptation of Jennifer Murdley
"Bufo!" cried Jennifer, hopping across the counter. "Kiss me!"
Bufo looked at her in astonishment.
"What do you think you're doing?" shrieked the witch.
"Kiss me, you fool!" said Jennifer.
Suddenly Bufo understood. Lunging forward, he planted a kiss on Jennifer's lips.
"Again!" she cried. "Again! Again! Again!"
"Stop!" screamed the witch. "Stop!"
But it was too late. The transformation was nearly instantaneous. With every kiss Jennifer doubled in size--from four inches to eight, from eight to sixteen, from sixteen to thirty-two.
With the fourth kiss she was more than five feet long.
The fifth kiss turned her into a toad the size of a Volkswagen.
"Stop!" screamed the witch again, and she raised
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her hands to cast a spell. But before she could speak a word, make a gesture, Jennifer's tongue shot forward, pinned the witch's arms to her sides, and drew her back into Jennifer's mouth, where she was held fast, her feet sticking out of one side, her head out of the other.
"Well, that was very good," said Bufo. "My congratulations."
Jennifer looked at him but said nothing, as it was difficult to speak with a mouthful of witch.
The witch noticed the problem immediately. "What are you going to do, Jennifer?" she asked, her voice soft, wheedling. "You can't keep me this way forever. Are you going to spit me out--or swallow me? I don't know about swallowing; I might get stuck in your throat. I could do a lot of damage before I'm done, or down, or whatever."
"Ignore her, Jennifer," said Bufo desperately. "She's got a voice like honey; she could talk a cat into a doghouse."
"That's not entirely wrong," said the witch. "And I can do more than that. I can offer a trade. Look around you, Jennifer. Look in the mirrors, and let me show you what might be. Remember, I have powers, I can change things. Look at yourself."
From every mirror in the shop stared a giant toad, a witch dangling from its mouth.
ME! thought Jennifer, in fear and revulsion.
But even as she stared at the mirrors, the image began to shift. First the toad dissolved. In its place stood a familiar image, one Jennifer had tried
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to see as little as possible over the last few years: her own plain face with its small eyes, big nose, and puffy cheeks, framed as always by limp, mousy hair. How she hated that image!
But as she watched, it began to shift: The nose shrank, the eyes grew. The limp hair became a thick, shaggy mane of sun yellow as the cheeks narrowed and slimmed. Cheekbones rose beneath those cheeks, like mountains stirring beneath the earth's crust, and beauty crept across her face like dawn across the sea.
Great tears formed in Jennifer-the-toad's enormous eyes. This was the secret image she had held within, the way she would have chosen to look, if only she had the power.
'7 have the power," whispered the witch, as if she had read Jennifer's mind. "I can make you look like that if you want; if you're willing to trade. Just say the word, Jennifer. Let me go. I can make you human again. And not merely your old, ugly self. I can make you beautiful ..."
Jennifer hopped forward, a leap that covered several feet. The image in the mirror, not that of a toad, but of a girl more beautiful than Sharra, came forward to greet her.
The Jennifer that might be, the midnight dream that haunted her days.
"Beautiful ... ," whispered the witch.
"Jennifer," said Bufo desperately. "Don't listen to her! Remember what she--"
"Quiet, you," hissed the witch.
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Ignoring her anger, Bufo tried again. "Remember what she really--"
"Quiet!" bellowed the witch. Losing control in her wrath, she spit out not only the word but another rat, which came hurtling out of her mouth and landed halfway across the room.
Jennifer-the-toad took another step toward the mirror. Jennifer-the-beautiful stepped forward to meet her.
"This is what you look like inside," whispered her reflected self, and Jennifer could not tell whether the words were spoken aloud or only in her mind. "Like the geode. Let me out. She can help you--help us. She can set me free, release the beauty inside you."
Like the geode, thought Jennifer, her mind whirling as if lost in some fever dream. But if you turn it inside out, it's beautiful outside, and ugly inside.
"Where does beauty matter?" whispered the reflection. "Where you can see it! What else counts?"
"Barbie and Ken!" bellowed Bufo. "Perfect plastic people! Is that what you want, Jennifer? If that's it, go ahead. Spit the witch out. She can have the jewel in my head, and let what happens happen."
I don't want to trade you for being beautiful, thought Jennifer, still unable to open her mouth, for fear of letting the witch escape. But oh, how I want to look like that. Oh, how I want to be beautiful.
If only someone would make the decision for her.
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But no one would.
"It's your choice," whispered the mirror.
"Decide, Jennifer," hissed the witch. "Give me the toad, and I'll let you go free--free and as beautiful as you could wish."
Jennifer sat in silence, her mouth closed.
"He's only a toad," wheedled the witch. "And a rude one at that. It's not as if I want your brother; I only got him by accident, anyway. I thought I was stealing this one. But your brother did make a perfect trading c
ard--I gave you the child, you gave me the toad. You were willing to sacrifice the toad for your brother. Why not for yourself? He's only a toad, Jennifer. Only a toad."
Only a toad, thought Jennifer. But the words burned, because she had heard words like them too many times, sneered once by Sharra, and whispered over and over in her memory thereafter. A toad for a toad.
In the mirror, the witch's image appeared beside that of the Jennifer-that-could-be. She was as beautiful as night, with eyes you could drown in.
"Or you could join me," the witch whispered, putting her arm around the false reflection. "Stay with me and learn the secrets I have to offer. I traded the jewel of happiness for them. All you have to trade is a single toad. I get the jewel, you get the beauty and wisdom and immortality. And Bufo gets to go on living, only slightly--altered. Why not, Jennifer? Why not stay with me and learn my secrets? Look at me. See how beautiful I am? See
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how beautiful you can be? Stay with me. Be beautiful. Stay with me ..."
Jennifer ached with the sight of the self that could be, the face in the mirror that had, until now, existed only in her imagination.
Only a toad, she thought. He's only a toad. I only met him two days ago, and life has been nothing but trouble since. I don't owe him a thing. And he's only a toad, after all. And I could be beautiful ...
And then she remembered Mr. Elives' words: "Take good care of this toad. If you don't, you'll have me to answer to."
Would the old man pursue her, punish her, if she traded Bufo in for beauty? What would he do? Would the witch protect her?
"Beautiful," crooned the witch. "So beautiful ..."
"Most mirrors are mere errors," said Mr. Elives. Jennifer blinked. Mr. Elives? What was he doing here?
But it wasn't Mr. Elives--it was Bufo, using the old man's voice.
"Shut up!" snarled the witch.
But it was too late. Like sand in butter, the words had grated against something, shaken Jennifer out of her stupor. She stared at herself in the mirror, at the Barbie-perfect image the witch and her imagination had conjured up, and knew it was not, could not, ever really be her. With a cry of rage and sorrow, she lashed out at it with her most powerful weapon--her tongue. The great length
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of solid muscle shot across the room. The witch was still stuck to it. She struck the mirror, which shattered against her back, glass tinkling to the floor.