The Witch Hunter of Castle Hill
MATTHEW PLON
I sit at a white table, in a white room. Mr Brown, the witch hunter is brought in. He wears a grey tracksuit, and socks with slides. His hair, which used to be matted to his head with sweat, is now neatly brushed. He sits across from me, no expression on his craggy walled face.
‘Hi Mr Brown,’ I say, forcing myself to meet his eyes. ‘I’m sorry I got you admitted here. There’s nothing wrong with your mind, there really are witches.’
*
It started with the rocks. At first, they were just in a circle, so it didn’t bother me. Then the patterns grew more complex, looking like runes from old Norse stories. I hated them. Why was the man who lived at number thirty doing this? Runes don’t belong on an Australian nature strip in Castle Hill!
‘Who cares?’ my sister Annie asked, when I mentioned it to her.
‘Me! They’re creepy, I don’t like them.’
‘He’s not hurting anyone. Hollie, he’s probably got problems, just ignore it.’
Well, there was no way I could do that. I was constantly thinking about ways to get rid of them. I thought about the rocks so much I started dreaming about them. Sometimes they’d loom before me, other times they’d crush me, and sometimes I was throwing them at his house.
‘He’s a witch hunter,’ Annie told me one day when she got home from work.
‘You spoke to him? Are you insane?’ I couldn’t believe this; she was going to get herself killed.
‘It’s fine, he’s pretty friendly. Says the rocks are there to keep witches away.’
‘So, they’re magic?’
‘Well, probably not really, but he thinks they are.’
‘I knew there was something off!’ I flopped down on the lounge with my face in my hands.
‘Hollie, relax. Don’t be so dramatic. They’re not magic, they’re just rocks. Although,’ a grin spread across her face, ‘they must be working because we haven’t had any witches since he put them up.’
I threw my phone at her. She dodged it and chuckled to herself. Oh my gosh, she’s the worst. Couldn’t she see I was upset? I hate this kind of magic stuff. It’s not like I believe in it, but occult things creep me out anyway. That’s why I got the witch hunter taken away.
It didn’t take much to be honest. I just rang and e-mailed the council complaining about the rocks. I saw the police show up and talk to him. He didn’t take them away, so I kept up with the complaints. Eventually a paddy wagon showed up to take him to a psychiatric ward. Good. That was all done and dusted. I could finally relax. No more supernatural stuff in the neighbourhood.
*
The witches showed up later that night. I was in my room reading. No fantasy anymore. I’d had enough of it. No, this novel was so grounded it didn’t even have a passport. The lights flickered. I groaned expecting a blackout, but the lights came back on. Relieved, I continued reading.
‘Hollie!’ Annie shouted from downstairs. ‘Is the internet working for you?’
I pretended like I hadn’t heard. A few minutes later I heard the stomping up the stairs.
‘Don’t ignore me, can you connect to the internet?’
‘Oh, did you say something? I didn’t hear you.’
Annie folded her arms, eyes boring into me. I pulled out my phone and saw I had no internet either. This began a half-an-hour process checking all our devices. We plugged the modem in and out and turned our devices off and on again. Nothing was working.
‘Something must have happened when the lights flickered,’ I suggested.
A booming cackle echoed through the neighbourhood forcing Annie and I to cover our ears. When it finally ended, we raced outside and saw all our neighbours looking up. Swear words and dirty jokes were written with the stars. Three women zoomed around on broomsticks, an old one, a chubby one, and a young one. I would find out later this is the usual case with witches, although in fairness, that information came from Terry Pratchett. The witches landed and started walking around introducing themselves to everyone.
‘Here she is, the lady of the hour,’ said the old one hugging me.
‘Me?’
‘Of course, we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.’ She squeezed me tightly.
I glanced towards the neighbours to make sure they hadn’t heard. They hadn’t, but Annie had.
‘Wait, are you serious? That witch hunter guy was legit?’ she asked.
‘Yes, but don’t worry, it’s all taken care of now thanks to Hollie,’ the young witch smiled.
‘No, no, no, you guys have to go!’ I told them.
‘Honey, if you didn’t want us here, why’d you get rid of him?’ the chubby one asked.
‘His rocks were creeping me out!’
‘Wait, are you three why the internet’s out?’ Annie asked, her priorities with Netflix and Instagram.
‘Oh yeah, it’s weird, magic and the internet don’t really mix. Don’t worry, it only lasts for a while after we do spells.’
‘How often do you do spells?’ Annie asked, but the three witches ignored her.
‘Anyway! Thanks so much again Hollie, we’re so grateful! Well, we’ll be around.’ They took off on their brooms, and I followed Annie back inside.
‘This is all your fault!’ she shouted.
‘I didn’t know this would happen!’
‘No, you never do, do you? It’s all about you and what you want. Now, you got an innocent man taken away and witches have invaded the neighbourhood. Couldn’t you have just ignored him? I tried to tell you.’
‘But how could I have expected this? We literally didn’t know witches existed until five minutes ago. Anyway, you’re just worried about the internet.’
‘Yeah, try and make it my fault. Get stuffed Hollie.’ That was the last thing she said to me for a while.
*
Over the next few weeks, I learned that the witches were so much worse than the rocks and the witch hunter. The rocks were just unseemly, but they didn’t hurt anybody. I guess the same goes for the witch hunter. The witches, however, were disrupting all of Castle Hill. They had seemingly unlimited magical power, but they only used it to do pranks. Not the fun kind of prank, but ones where they’d magic your car’s engine inside your fridge. Annie was right, I’d screwed up. There was only one way to make things better, I was going to have to get rid of these witches.
The problem is, how can you get rid of witches? I literally only knew one person who had tried, and I’d gotten him locked away. I tried the internet when it was working between spells. The only solutions I could find were either magical, a spiritual ritualist, or to burn them. I didn’t want to mess with magic, I couldn’t afford the $700 for the ritualist, and I didn’t really want to murder anyone, so I decided to go talk to them.
I found them sitting at the light rail magically switching the directions of the escalators at the most annoying times.
‘Witches, can I have a word with you?’ I asked and they nodded in unison. ‘I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. What would it take for you to leave? You’re really disrupting the neighbourhood.’
‘No-one’s ever just asked us to leave before,’ the old one said stroking her chin. ‘Hmm…maybe we’d be okay with leaving if we could take something with us.’
‘What something?’
‘Well, what if you became a witch and left with us?’
‘Ha! Are you kid-’ I started, but the young witch interrupted.
‘You should at least consider it. We know Annie’s not talking to you. With us, you’d have sisters, and we won’t shun you like that. Even better you’d have magic and when you have magic you can do whatever you want. You don’t have to worry about upsetting anyone because what do they matter? Think about it Hollie.’
I walked home as quick as I could.
*
‘Annie, can I talk to you?’ I asked. She grunted which I took to mean yes.
‘I found a way to get rid of the witches.’
‘How?’ she asked, lowering her phone.
‘Well, they said they’d leave if I became a witch.’
‘Why would you become a witch? They’re jerks,’ she asked.
‘It’d solve some problems though, wouldn’t it? I mean, we’d get rid of the witches, and you wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. Also, I’m kinda like them, aren’t I? The way I completely disregarded Mr Brown for what I wanted…’
‘For Pete’s sake, Hollie. Yeah, you made a mistake but that doesn’t mean you’re as bad as them. Stop overreacting.’
‘Thanks,’ I said after a moment of silence. ‘Look, I know this won’t make up for everything, but I am sorry. I could give reasons, but they don’t really matter. I’ll try to change.’
‘Thanks, it’s good that you recognise it, but I’m not really the person you should be apologising to.’
‘Mr Brown? Oh, my gosh, I can’t do that! It’s too embarrassing,’ I said, then added, ‘awkward too.’
‘Hollie, you got an innocent man taken to a psychiatric ward because you thought he had problems. Now you know he doesn’t. It’s your choice what you do, but you know what’s right. Prove to yourself that you’re not a witch.’
*
Mr. Brown’s expression didn’t change as I told him my side of the story.
‘So, you’re not insane,’ I tell him.
‘I already knew that,’ he says.
‘Well, I want to say I’m sorry. I should have just stayed out of things. I just didn’t trust the rocks. It was unfair to you.’
‘Hollie, by doing what you did you broke a general respect that you should have for me as your neighbour. This is what attracted the witches, they’re drawn to breakdowns in a community. You’ve seen how they act; they thrive on it. The rocks only prevented them from entering the neighbourhood. You’re allowed to not like what I was doing, but you should have showed me some common courtesy and spoken to me. That’s what would have kept them away.’
I stare at my nails. I’d shown Mr Brown a lack of civility and respect. The witches’ disregard for others was what happened when you followed this attitude to its end.
‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘Mr Brown, your rocks made me uncomfortable. Is there anything we can do to figure that out?’
Mr Brown’s face smooths as he smiles. His dark eyes begin to shine.
‘Yeah, I’ve got an idea.’
*
So, the rocks become hedges. I plant them in the pattern Mr Brown instructs, in circles, sometimes with swirls branching off. Apparently, they can work like the rocks. The witches notice, so they swoop me, and hide my tools. Annie starts to help, distracting the witches drawing their attention away.
‘Need a hand?’ asks the old lady from number twenty-six.
She joins me and others do too. Some help plant and some help Annie keep the witches away. Over months the hedges grow.
‘I’m a lawyer you know,’ says the man from number fifteen who’s helping me garden. ‘I could look into Mr Brown’s case.’
He’s not the only one who helps. I get to know other people from our street. All of them are ready to help Mr Brown get out of hospital and undo what I did. With their effort Mr Brown is released, just as the hedges are fully grown.
Mr Brown inspects them while my neighbours and I watch. With his clippers he makes one minor adjustment clipping a twig. When he does, a vibration runs through me and the ground shakes. Three screams pierce the sky. We all look up as the witches fly away, off into the night and away from Castle Hill forever.
After fourteen years in the print industry, Matthew Plon decided he wanted to be on the other side of the page. This led to studying creative writing at Macquarie University.
Matthew loves to read Wheel of Time, play Final Fantasy, and listen to comedy podcasts. He lives in Sydney, Australia.
