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Love
Potion
When I was just a little girl I realised that my Grandmother was a witch.
I was heavily into stories about Snow White and Sleeping Beauty at the time so that may have been what tipped me off.
My Grandma was good to talk to. She liked most things, including Grandpa, who she kept in a shed down the back yard, where he restored old clocks, fixed things, and listened to the races on his radio. She disliked Bert Newton and the pokies, and was always on at me not to have my tongue pierced because the stud would chip my teeth.
In many ways she was your typical grandmother – into tai chi, and pottery,
she played the mouth organ and she made weird quilts with all sorts of material and strings hanging down.
But if she had wanted to fool me into believing she was not a witch, she should have got rid of her black cat. Only she could touch Satan, and the glare from that devil cat’s green eyes was enough to freeze you in your tracks. If he ever walked across my path I would keep my fingers crossed for 5 minutes and would try not to step on any cracks in the footpath all day, just to ward off any bad luck.
Anyway, over the years I got into the habit of calling round to see Grandma after school and telling her all my troubles. I never let on that I knew her secret and she didn’t say anything either.
But when I was a couple of years into high school I ran into a problem that required a bit of magic to set right, so I thought I’d broach the subject and ask her straight out.
“Grandma, are you a witch?” I said.
“Of course,” she said. “I thought you knew.”
“Do you know how to cast spells and make potions?”
“Depends,” she said. “What’s on your mind? Is it a love potion you need? Tell me all about it, Amy.”
“Well,” I said, “you know it’s my Year 10 Formal in November, and nobody has asked me yet. I’d really like to go with
Stevo. You know him. He’s always lived next door to us. But he goes out with all the popular girls at school and thinks of me as just his sister.”
My Grandma thought a minute then went into her bedroom. She came back with a little bottle of red liquid which she put into my
hand.
“This will fix him,” she said.
“How can I get him to take it?”
“Oh you’re the one who has to take it. Three sips are all you’ll need. When will you see him next?”
“He’s coming to my house to borrow my Mariah Carey C.D. tomorrow after school. He wants to burn it on his computer.”
“Hmm, into pirating is he?” said Grandma. “Anyway, when he comes ask him in and take a sip of the magic potion. Then take your shoes off and go outside and jump up and down the path for a minute or so on that pogo stick I gave you.”
“He’ll think I’m crackers. I can’t do that.”
“Do you want him to take you to the Formal or not? After that come inside and take another sip. Then let that lovely hair of yours out of that ponytail, brush it for two minutes, and put a flower behind your ear. After that sit on the floor and take the third sip. But don’t take too long. Don’t let him get restless. Keep him guessing.”
“Will that work? He’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Just think positive” said my Grandma, “And by the way, don’t wear that old pair of jeans and that baggy shirt you always get around in at home.
Next day I was waiting for Stevo after school. I had on my new mulberry skirt with the jagged hemline, my chocolate coloured peasant blouse, with my fringed belt around my hips. I opened the door, still not sure if I’d have the nerve to go through with the
plan.
“Where are you off to?” he greeted me, “Anyway I can’t stay long.”
“It’s OK,” I said glancing at my watch. “I’ve got plenty of time.”
And before I knew it I’d swallowed the first sip. It tasted a bit like the cough mixture I used to take when I was a little kid.
“You sick or something?” he said
I just gave him the Mona Lisa smile I’d been practising and kicked off my shoes. “Just a
sec” I said, and took up the pogo stick from the corner, went out the front door, and jumped up and down the path for a while.
I saw Stevo looking out the window at me with a puzzled expression.
I went back inside and he said, “You all right?”
“Course,” I said and took another sip. Then I started brushing my hair out, took one of Mum’s gerberas from the vase, and tucked it behind my right ear.
“You seem different this afternoon,” he said, looking at me as if he’d never seen me before.
I put on my innocent look and, looking at my watch, I knew that I had better get on with it, or he’d be wanting to leave. I took the last sip and sat on the floor near my C.D. player.
Stevo got up and I suddenly saw myself as I was; all dolled up but with no shoes, hair all over the place, and a flower behind my ear. Oh dear, it’s no good, he’s going, I thought.
“Well, here’s the C.D.” I said, “I suppose you have to go now.”
But instead he came over and sat down right beside me.
“No, I’ve got plenty of time if you have.” he said.
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