For the longest time, I thought my new neighbours were vampires. Not really, of course, but it was clever answer to the question as to why they only seemed to come out at night.
They were nice enough people. At least the mother was, on her infrequent visits to our house. I didn't meet the daughters until later. There was a bear, you see. A black bear, that took to prowling over our properties. The area we lived in was mostly wooded, but urban expansion threatened us on all sides, forcing a sort of exodus of friendly woodland creatures. I've never even seen a bear before the big bastard wandered along the edge of our pool, not even giving me the courtesy of a glance as I nearly ruined my pants. He could have growled or something. The bear brought us together, brought the mother over to talk. Was it dangerous, should we phone someone, what kind of bear was it? Bear talk.
The mother was a foster mother, which I suppose would make her kids foster kids. They were also foster parents to foster cats and foster dogs. I don't think there was a foster dad, at least not any more. I didn't ask, I just stayed in earshot as the foster mother had a sit down cup of coffee with my real mother. The kids, three girls, were grown now, but previously home schooled, all about the same age. The mother worked despite the kingly cheque she must be receiving every month for sheltering three kids as she did. You'd think home school graduates in the summer, left alone all day, would find some way of amusing themselves outdoors. But no, as I said, I figured they were vampires. The dogs sure made a ruckus during the day, and managed to wiggle their way through the hedges, bushes and trees that separated our two properties, bounding about all over my yard. I considered calling them to complain, but the lawn was looking a little limp and it needed the fertilizer.
I'm a bit of a night owl myself. I do my best thinking after the rest of the world has gone to sleep. Usually I waste that time watching cheap late-night TV instead, but should I be inclined to think, it would be best late at night.
It was during one of these late nights that I caught a glimpse of something bright, way out back, past the pond and bush. At first I thought it was just a reflection off the window from the TV, but it still flickered now and then out of the corner of my eye. It was a dry summer, and fearing fire, I sprang into action and turned off the TV, and then the lights, staring at it from the safety of my own house. Definitely fire. Two of them now, little fires, just peeking through the bush on my neighbour's side.
I'm not sure how I figured a fire would spontaneously start in the middle of the night, since usually it's things like the sun that start them, but I felt awfully brave bundling myself in my coat and shoes and walking out across the lawn, just to be sure. I didn't even wake my parents, I was so brave. I felt a little less brave about half way there, with my feet feeling a little damp from the dew soaking my shoes, the cold starting to chill my cheeks and that horrible forest-calm pressing around me. There could even be bears about, waiting for me to trip over a gopher hole so they could roar out from the black and tear me asunder. It was the sound of voices that steeled me. Girl voices, low and giggly.
I slowed a little, and stepped around the sticks and leaves on the grass, to avoid any unseemly noises. I was a lot less lithe as I tried to make my way through the brush barrier between me and the mysterious fires. I tried several spots, but was stopped on all accounts by impassible obstacles like prickly bushes and spider webs. I eventually had to swing around and approach their yard from the back, crossing over the property line where the barrier was thinner, and then making my way back, all stealthy-like.
The fires, as I had now supposed, were harmless. Twin campfires built in pits in the ground and ringed in stones and broken brick. Lengthwise between them was a giant picnic table, the kind with the benches built right on either side. Dotting the table and benches were dozens of candles which were too faint to be seen from afar, but now twinkled like stars in the dark. The air was heavy with smoke and what smelled like incense. I breathed shallowly to avoid coughing on the thick scent.
The really interesting parts, however, were the three girls sitting on the benches, two facing away from me and the other facing, but still not seeing, me. I lifted myself up onto a dead stump to clear some of the branches in my way for a better look.
There was a stack of books on the table as well, and each girl had their own. Over the crackling of the fire I couldn't make out what they were saying, excepting that it must have been amusing because they seemed all in good spirits, giggling away.
In this light, bathed in the shifting warmth of the fires, I could see the two facing away from me were blondes, while the one facing was dark haired. Quite pretty as well, maybe a couple of years younger than I was. They were all wearing bathrobes, or what I thought were bathrobes. Maybe they were kimonos? I have no idea. Robes and sandals anyway, strange fair for a cold night like this. I guess that's why they needed two fires. I watched them awhile, my legs starting to cramp up from my awkward position on the dead stump. Since I couldn't even eavesdrop properly, and since my clothes were damp from all my scrambling about and getting colder with the night, I decided to end my little voyeuristic adventure and head home. Crises averted, no forest fires, no need to panic.
Then I promptly slipped on the damp wood and tumbled to the ground with quite the cascade of broken branches and flattened bushes. To their credit, the girls didn't scream very loudly, even as I thrashed my way out of the tangle of brush. Finally free and panting, I saw all three of them on their feet. The dark haired one and one blonde had dropped their books on the ground, while the third had hers raised like a club, ready to beat me like a baby seal. I straightened and said the only thing I felt would be rational at the time.
"Howdy neighbours."
The pause went on and on. And on and on. And on, until the dark haired girl's eyes went even wider.
"It worked!" she said, and the other two looked at her with the same expression I did.
Then followed some general confusion. The one girl kept brandishing her book, the dark haired girl sat down and seemed suddenly quiet, while the bookless blonde took the lead in the interrogation. Mostly "what the hell" followed up with "calling the police". I considered just running, but I'd probably end up tangling myself up inescapably in the bush and have to awkwardly hang there while the police took their time helping me out.
Finally the adrenaline seemed to abate and everyone was breathing more normally, with less hushed shouting and more hushed talking. I'm not even sure why we were all whispering, but I just followed their lead.
Then I noticed I was bleeding. I turned my hand towards the fire and saw a thin trickle of blood running down my thumb.
"You're hurt!" said the dark haired one, suddenly looking up from the bench. The blonde ones just pulled their robes around themselves tighter.
"Apparently," I said, mesmerized at how black the blood looked under the moon.
"Let me see," she said. And then I walked towards the table and sat across from her, avoiding the eyes of the other two.
She was even prettier close up, with fair skin reddened slightly by the cold, but warmed in colour by the fires flanking us and the dozens of candles dotting the table. She had a soft, round, kind face. Definitely the youngest of the three. Her robe was the same as the others, black slashed with red highlights and trim. It seemed like a fairly thin material up close.
I stretched out my hand across the table and she took it in hers. Her hands were cold and delicate as they turned mine over.
"It's just a splinter," she said, not looking at me. "This might sting a little."
I turned my head as she pulled something the size of half a dime from under my finger nail. The books on the table, as I read them in that brief flash of relief and horror, all seemed to have either "Wicca" or "Occult" in the title. Lovely. A coven of witches in my own backyard? Glory be.
The other two eventually sat down as I stuck my bleeding thumb in my mouth. There wasn't enough room between the candles for both of them to sit on the other girl's side, so one had to sit next to me.
They, too, were quite pretty. The talkative one was about my age, while the book-wielder was a little older. I thought at first they might have been sisters, but up close they were clearly unrelated. The older one was probably a natural blonde. With her hair up in a pony tail, I could see the hairline along her forehead clearly. Blonde to the root. The younger one had her hair worn down, straight and to the shoulder. There was a shock of darker hair at her part. Time for a touch up, I guess.
I broke the awkward silence by gesturing with my wounded hand towards the books.
"So... witches, eh?"
The dark haired one giggled, but the other two rolled their eyes.
"No," the natural blonde said at the same time the dyed blonde said, "Not yet".
"I see," I said. "Do any of you have names?"
They glanced at each other a moment, before the dark haired one spoke up, clearly delighted.
