“Milkshake with a Side of Newt”
Chapter 1
“Al’s Shooting Star Diner”
Late October whistled sharp, cold winds through the small town of Woodsby.  The sky turned gray and the ground a dense orange, with pumpkins squatting on porches and crows on telephone wires.  Autumn was all cornfields and grain, sheep in clusters at the bottom of the hills that framed the town.  October was the cold winds that disturbed the tranquility of the lake.  And more or less, it was the color of Jenny’s maple freckles, the color of her nose when she felt bitter. 
It was a busy Saturday at Al’s Shooting Star Diner.  Jenny whisked in and out of the kitchen, carrying plates of stacked flap-jacks and frothy pink milkshakes to the awaiting customers.  The air sizzled with the sound of laughter and talk, and every now and then, the clacking of her baby blue heels on the checkered tile floor.  Jenny brushed a tendril of hair out of her face.  She had dark-gold, silky hair- pulled back into a messy ponytail for work- which would turn a light maple when winter swung around.  Her hair was cut in short, soft curls.  It gave her slender face a relaxed, gentle character, but she could pull off a sly and reckless smile.  She had honey colored eyes- playful, she liked to say, but they would glaze over dangerously when she was angry.  Her break was ten minutes away, her lovely, lovely break…  It was still only morning and the diner had been bustling with customers since it had opened.  Jenny sat on a teal stool at the counter, resting her head on her hands.  She could probably get away with secretly watching the customers until her break came.  Al, the proprietor, was too busy sifting through an inventory of enchanted ingredients for his new recipes in the back to notice.  Speaking of enchantment, Jenny reached down to verify that her wand was still tucked in the folds of her apron pocket.  When her fingers grazed the thin cedar stick, she felt warmth and light flood her body, as if she had just drank a glass of warm milk.  Last week, she had lost the wand, and Al had nearly killed her.  Jenny shuddered remembering his words slicing her rosy cheeks open, threats to expel her from the witchhood, out into the streets. 
The diner was Jenny’s home.  Al had raised her, taught her how to wind magic into thick slices of cherry pie and creamy mashed potatoes; how to bring the customers good fortune from their rich meals.  Her mother simply didn’t exist.  Al had always told her the same tale, every night before she went to sleep.   Jenny had been discovered one day, with only a large colorful quilt and a little dove’s feather tucked in her hair.  Other than that, there was no trace of her mother’s existence.
Jenny was to grow up in the diner with secret lessons from Al. She had learned how to whisk fairy honey into a peach cake, or how to boil dragon scale shavings into a stew, etc.  One day, however, Jenny would be experienced enough to venture into the true world of witchood where she could live on her own and bring the world luck and blessings.  To do so, she couldn’t risk making any more mistakes- after all, she only had another year until she could go off, as she was 16.  What could go wrong?

Chapter Two
“Charlie and the Newt”
The day was finally coming to a close.  Jenny flipped through an old dusty witch pamphlet, waiting for her shift to end.  An old man sagged at a table by himself, a paper folded between his hands as he took slow bites out of a burger.  Jenny wandered into the back of the diner.  Al wasn’t there, probably heading down to Nite Owl, their reliable grocery store, to pick up some other ingredients.  Nite Owl was tucked away in the Black Forest, which framed the little town of Woodsby.  Only witches could find the alley of shops and boutiques that lay snug in the dark forest. 
Jenny wandered lazily around the diner, struggling to make time pass as she cleaned greasy tables with a flick of her wand.  She felt herself beginning to succumb to drowsiness,  her eyelids fluttering shut when she leaned her weary body against a wall. 
The sharp chiming of a bell signaled that someone had entered the diner. 
“Jenny!” A childish voice exclaimed. 
“Charlie, not now.  I’m about end my shift…” Jenny said through her teeth, but in reality she was glad to see Charlie again.  The nine year old boy had locks of grainy, dirty blonde hair and seemed to radiate warmth everywhere he went.  If Jenny had anything she loved more than baking and witchcraft, it would be Charlie.
You see, Charlie had a childhood dripping with terror, welts from a leather belt, derogatory comments that would pinch and prod and cut.  His parents would tear him to shreds with their words whenever he came home to his bleak and dark house.  He somehow maintained an optimistic, glowing, character, and it made Jenny admire him.  She knew that he hated his home, and she was his hideaway.
Charlie dragged a tall stool out from under the counter and hoisted himself up.
“Can I have a milkshake?” 
Jenny sighed and looked at the ceiling.  For Charlie, she thought.
“Fine, and keep your change,”  she said, glancing at the shiny nickels he had dropped on the counter.  “This one’s on me.”
As Jenny spun around the kitchen, spooning candy-cotton ice cream into a blender, she tried to ignore the exhaustion that was melting through her body.  Al had been particularly harsh today, and she was desperate for the day to end.  Jenny reached into a wooden compartment for Willow’s Bark and crumbled it into the drink, then added spun sugar to conceal the color.  Willow’s Bark was an enchanted ingredient that brought inner strength to the consumer, and she always threw this into Charlie’s meals.  She did all of this in a hurry and slipped out of the kitchen to give Charlie his malted milkshake.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said with a toothy grin.
She gave him a bemused look- “Charlie-”  He placed a small brown parcel on the counter and nudged it closer.  Jenny glanced at him and proceeded to unfold the paper.   
Inside lay a small, delicately carved wooden wolf.  It was beautifully made, every hair engraved in the figurine. 
“I got it from a little stand I saw in the woods.  I was just walking and out of nowhere, I found this little wobbly table.  It had the strangest little objects- well, anyway, I figured y’ would like this one.”
Jenny flung her arms around Charlie.
“Thanks, kiddo,” she said into his ear. 
And for a split, electrifying second, Jenny felt frost slipping through her body- as if ice had entwined itself around every vein and frozen fear in her heart.  It was as if the seven deadly sins were laced tightly in her limbs. 
“Charlie?”  Jenny pulled away and looked at him.  Charlie’s mouth hung open, his body completely listless.  “Charlie!”  Panic dripped from Jenny’s face.  She shook him desperately, “Charlie- Charlie! Are you there?” 
Jenny scraped her mind for something to do.  That sensation of ice, that was one she knew- yes, she realized, poison.  Jennny scooped Charlie into her arms, kicked off her heels, those stupid heels, and raced out the door, the bell chiming cheerfully behind her.
As she ran to the woods, a terrifying thought smacked Jenny in the face.  When she had been concocting Charlie’s milkshake, she hadn’t taken her time in checking that the Willow’s Bark was, in fact, Willow’s Bark.  And then an even more blood-curdling realization hit her- Dried Newt was in the compartment right next to Willow’s Bark.  Dried Newt was one of the deadliest ingredients when crumbled.  It was a dry, leathery ingredient, and felt upsettingly similar to bark.  
Jenny finally halted in front of a small, dilapidated shack and desperately thudded the door with her fist.  The words “Ivy’s Apothecary” hung crooked above the door.  Charlie’s skin was starting to become webbed with blue crystals.  Jenny smacked the door again and it swung open, hitting her with the aroma of herbs and earthy minerals.  As she stepped in, she looked around in astonishment.  The walls were strung with garlands of crystals and bundles of rosemary.  Steam and fog rose in the air from large cauldrons, and the room was full of strange, mystical sounds.  Jenny had only been here once, several moons ago, when she was studying healing with Al.  It amazed her to this day. 
“Oh boy, he’s in trouble.”  A warbling voice shrieked from behind Jenny, uncomfortably close to her ear, and she jumped nearly three feet in the air.  An old woman stood there, draped in tapestries and robes.  She rubbed her hands together.  “May I?”
Jenny awkwardly handed Charlie over to the witch.  The woman smacked her lips wetly before saying “Oh boy, oh boy, Dried Newt, this one’s tough.  Oh boy.  You’ve gotten yourself in a mess, Dear,” she croaked.  Jenny shifted impatiently.
“I’m aware.  Please, what do I do?  He can’t die.  He can’t, won’t.” 
“Oh boy,” the witch said again. 
“Would you stop that?” Jenny looked at Charlie, who was losing color in his usually rose cheeks.
The old woman put Charlie’s body on a cluttered table and started hurrying around the room, collecting vials and herbs.  When she had filled her arms with various ingredients, plants, and stones, she turned to look at Jenny.
“Darling, there’s something you should know before I save this child.  See, the thing is- oh boy- when you wanna save someone from Newt poisoning, there’s a consequence.”  Jenny felt her palms getting moist with sweat and she wiped them on her apron. 
“Uh- well, he’s going to have to...”  the old woman avoided Jenny’s eyes.
“Spit it out!”
“Oh bo-”
Jenny gave her a dangerous look.
“He’s going to need to be converted into a witch!” The witch blurted.   
Jenny wanted to melt into the floor.

Chapter Three
“Inside, Now.”
Jenny sat on the lid of a rusty cauldron with her hands folded in her lap.  The witch muttered to herself as she prepared to cast the spell.  This was for the best, Jenny decided.  She would take Charlie in with her, Al would begin to teach him, and he wouldn’t have to live with his torturous parents.  She could only pray that Charlie would be satisfied with her decison.
“Ready?” The witch shrieked, causing Jenny to jump and tear the hem of her apron on a rusty hinge.
“By all means.”
The witch began to read off of a small sheet of tea-stained paper.
“2 cloves of garlic,
A pinch of candle wick,
Wrinkle cream-”
The witch frowned and examined the sheet, before tossing it behind her.
“Oh boy,” she cackled.  “That was my shopping list.”  She dug through stacks of crumbling sheets of paper until she found another list.
“From the pine of the mountains
To the crouch of a fountain,
Spear said victim with wizardry
Till they are enchanted bitterly.”
A small, disappointing puff of smoke rose in the air and the witch clapped her hands loudly. 
“Charlie?”  Jenny said quietly as she walked cautiously to his side. 
His eyes fluttered open and for a moment, they glowed purple,  “Jenny.”
She sure had some explaining to do.
---
“So y’ really ran all the way here?” Charlie laughed as they walked back to the diner. 
“You’re a lot heavier than you would think.” 
Charlie kept skipping ahead of her and spinning in circles, his flannel shirt stained with dirt and milkshake.   “I’m a witch,” he said gleefully every couple seconds.  “I’m a witch and I get to live with Jenny.” 
When they reached the diner, its greasy glowing fairy lights glittered against the caramel setting sky.  Al was standing at the door with his arms crossed.  He looked old, and it took Jenny aback for a moment. 
“Inside, now.”  He stepped away from the door to let them in.  Jenny pulled Charlie closer to her.  Al was a good guy, she knew that.  But when he was angry, he was angry.  Dangerously angry.  
What if he kicked her into the streets?  What if she would never feel the comfort of her feather-stuffed bed, the quilt her mother had left Jenny with?  What if she never got to smell pancakes grilling and coffee stirring in the mornings?  What if-
“I don’t know what to say.  First,” Al shifted and looked at Charlie, “You’ve used Dried Newt while I was gone, the most dangerous ingredient in our kitchen,” He bit his lip, “and then you go off and poison a nine year old.  Not only that, but you’ve converted a child into a witch without permission.  I don’t think you realize the severity of what you’ve done.”
Jenny winced.
“And I couldn’t be more proud.” 
Jenny looked down in shame, but then his words registered, and she gave him an astonished look.
“I’ve never taught anyone who’s had as much determination as you, Jenny.  There are only so many witches in training that would have gone to such lengths to save a life. And to be honest, that’s exactly what our witchhood needs.”  He looked at the ceiling awkwardly.  Al wasn’t used to giving compliments, and it showed.  “Er- there’s a clean apron in the drier, if you want it.  And as for you,” he looked Charlie in the eyes, “we’ll get started tomorrow.  There’s a lot to cover.”  And with that, Al lumbered out of the room.
Jenny sat down on the cold tile floor, and took Charlie into her lap. 
It smelled like hamburgers and sizzling bacon.  They were home.