Witches and
Wolves
There are witches in the world. They don’t wear pointy hats or ride brooms, no, they wear “athleisure wear” and drive hybrid cars to spin class or yoga. Sometimes they power walk in groups. They do juice cleanses and name their children things like Kayden, and Vincenzo, and Seneca.
Gretchen is not a witch. She lives at the fringes of that world. Her car is ten years older, her clothes are from the thrift store, and her hair is decidedly not from a box. But she lives on the fringes of the witches because it means her daughter can go to the best school.
Her daughter, who has a perfectly normal name, thank you very much, is everything to Gretchen. Rachel is her shining star and her greatest joy, her most precious treasure. So of course she knows where Rachel is at all times. They have old, used smartphones, the both of them. So old that Rachel complains she can’t play the games her friends do, can’t Snap or Go or Tik (whatever that is). But there’s an app that lets Gretchen know where Rachel is at all times, and that is what is important. She also watches what Rachel does on her laptop. Gretchen saved for three years to make sure she could buy Rachel a laptop for high school. And she did enough research to get the best parental monitoring system loaded onto that laptop, first thing. Rachel will be safe, if Gretchen has to put an ankle tracker on her to do it.
She hasn’t gone that far.
Yet.
Gretchen’s coworkers say she’s doing too much. (Gretchen doesn’t have friends, she has people she can stand to chat with at work.) They tell her that children need room to breathe, that teenagers can’t be cooped up the way she keeps Rachel cooped up. That her daughter is smart enough to know how to take care of herself. That’s true, Rachel is smart. But Gretchen has the benefit of time and wisdom on her side.
There are wolves in the world, after all.
Gretchen is at a small coffee shop near her home. She goes there because the coffee is cheap and the WiFi is free. She goes there between when she’s done with work and when Rachel’s done with drama practice. She goes there and sometimes she just watches the dot on her phone that shows her daughter is safe and getting an education. She’ll do better, Rachel will, than Gretchen ever could have dreamed.
The woman who calls out to her is blonde, wearing pink, floral patterned yoga pants and a blue jacket. She’s got on sunglasses that are bigger than her head. She might be named Karen. Gretchen thinks she’s Seneca’s mom. She looks at her surroundings like she’s never seen grimy linoleum and scarred wooden tables.
“I was just down the street checking out a new boutique Denise told me about. Not worth the trip. Anyway, have you heard the rumor?” Maybe-Karen asks.
No. Gretchen doesn’t gossip like the witches do. She’s too busy with her job and her daughter.
“My daughter said there’s a rumor going around school that one of the teachers is sleeping with a student. I talked to the principal’s secretary, Mary Jane, and she said they’re going to address it at the next Parent Night.”
(Gretchen lives at the fringes of witches so her daughter can go to the best school. And schools of high caliber like to keep the parents of their students involved. That’s how donations get made, after all. So they have quarterly Parent Nights, to show off the brilliant (pedantic) work being done by Kayden, and Vincenzo, and Seneca.)
Gretchen feels cold in her soul.
There are wolves in the world. They don’t wear fur and have fangs. They wear suits or khakis or designer distressed jeans. There are many different species, but they all have some things in common. Like when they look at women, they see prey.
Rachel’s father wasn’t a wolf, but he was a thief. Gretchen’s greatest fear is that Rachel will meet a wolf some day and run away with him, thinking he’s a prince. Witches and wolves might exist, but princes are only in fairy tales. That’s one of the reasons Gretchen has to keep such a close eye on Rachel. She’s still a girl who believes in fairy tales.
Parent Night is packed, even more so than normal. Everyone’s heard the rumor. Rachel hasn’t said anything to Gretchen about it, but maybe-Karen took care of that. And Gretchen goes to every Parent Night, regardless. How else can she be sure Rachel is keeping on top of her class work? If her grades slip, Gretchen will forbid her precious drama practice.
Gretchen doesn’t talk to any of the witches, but she listens as she hovers at the fringes of their conversations. No one knows how the rumor started. The administration hasn’t been able to prove its true. There’s no consensus on which teacher it could even be.
Gretchen breathes a sigh of relief. She speaks to Rachel’s teachers. She confirms what she heard with the principal. She goes home, and there’s a positive pregnancy test in the bathroom.
If this were a fairy tale, a handsome prince would swoop in and save Rachel at this point, make all her problems disappear.
This is not a fairy tale, and all the princes in the world couldn’t save Rachel now. Gretchen cries and screams and begs, but Rachel won’t name her prince. Won’t agree to make it right. Won’t give up her prize.
Nobody knows yet. They will. And then the witches will come.
It’s been a month, and Gretchen still knows nothing except that her daughter is ruining everything. Rachel is her shining star, her one joy, and she’s going to do better than Gretchen ever did. She will. Somehow. Gretchen will make sure of it.
But for now she attends the drama production. It’s important to Rachel. Gretchen knows it will help with college applications, but she doesn’t see the point. It’s just more fairy tales.
And then. After. She sees Rachel with the drama teacher and suddenly she knows. Not a prince, like Rachel insisted. A wolf.
Gretchen lives at the fringes of witches so that her daughter can go to the best school. And schools of high caliber frown upon scandals. Scandals keep donations from being made. But if a scandal must break, as they do on occasion, schools of high caliber also go the extra mile to really clean things up.
In this case, they pay for a lawyer.
Gretchen wants to tear his eyes out, but she has Rachel to think about, so she’ll settle for removing him from the Ivory Tower of academia. That will be enough.
Rachel’s eyes have been red and puffy with crying for days. Since he was arrested. It didn’t take much questioning from the kind detective before Rachel cracked. She begged them not to arrest him. She loved him. He was going to take care of her. He had promised.
Gretchen and the detective shared a look, and Gretchen knew the detective was a kindred spirit. No fairy tales for these women, just witches and wolves. So many wolves.
His fiancée testifies for him. Rachel is glassy eyed, now. Gretchen can see the numbness spreading through her, can see her withdrawing from the pain. He promised he would take care of her while he built his life with someone else. Wolves will do that.
Gretchen didn’t want Rachel to learn this lesson, not at this age. Not in this way. Not in the way that feels like your heart is being shredded by thorns and you’re living in a nightmare you’ll never wake up from.
He goes to jail. Statutory. Rachel testifies, and Gretchen can feel the pieces of her daughter coming apart.
They put the babies up for closed adoption.
Rachel has cried so much her once blue eyes now look grey. Her hair, kissed by starlight, a gift from her father, hangs lank and unwashed. Gretchen brushes it when she can, when Rachel lets her.
They’ve moved, away from the witches and their absurdly named children. They’ll never escape the wolves of the past, not really, but Gretchen hopes for it anyway. Wishes, even.
Hmph. If wishes came true...well, a lot of things would be different, and Gretchen would have her daughter back.
But for now she brushes her daughter’s hair and sings her old lullabies. She goes to work and Rachel goes to school, sometimes. It’s not as nice a school, but nobody knows them. And nobody needs to.
There are witches in this world. And wolves. But no princes or fairy godmothers to set things right.
What a world that would be.