"It's going to cost you dearly," the witch said, her eyes narrowing.
Her eyes were dark and deep, like a midnight sky. People knew little about her; some said Sarah was local. They whispered that years ago, a traveling carnival had passed near the town, and a fatal passion had ignited between a handsome performer and a local girl. They said the young man had fallen hopelessly in love and went to the girl's father to ask for her hand.
But the head of the family was stubborn; he wouldn't let his daughter leave with the carnival. So, the young man decided to settle in town, but his own people didn't understand him then. Later, the young man was pulled from the pond on the edge of the woods. No one knew if he had decided to end it himself or if someone had helped him. Nine months later, the girl gave birth to a dark-eyed baby girl—just like her father. Shamed by his daughter's "disgrace," the father took to the bottle. His drinking didn't last long, though; he froze to death under a neighbor's fence during a record-breaking blizzard. As for the girl, her life became a living hell. In her own hometown, she was branded with every names in the book.
Soon she left these parts with her daughter, but people whispered that Sarah—who had appeared in the village out of nowhere—was that very same girl. Too many things pointed to it: the fact that the witch had moved into the very house where the poor girl's family once lived, and the way she loved to walk along the banks of the pond that had been called "The Drifter's Pool" since the young man's death. Now, everyone instinctively called the whole area Drifter's Pool. The name stuck like a bandage you couldn't tear off. The witch herself told no stories and answered no questions.
Nancy Miller set her jaw stubbornly.
"I'll pay whatever you ask."
"That's not what I mean," Sarah dismissed her with a hollow laugh. Then, turning serious, she leaned toward her visitor. "What you're asking for will cost your son a great deal! Do you think these things just happen? One day he loves her, carries her in his arms, and the next he just stops? Listen to me, Nancy, I'm giving you good advice: leave them alone. Let them live their lives. Why would you want to destroy love?"
Nancy Miller didn't answer, staring straight ahead. Her eyes held an iron determination to see her plan through to the end.
"Fine, have it your way," the witch gave in. "Come back in three days, and I'll have it ready. But mark my words—you'll regret this."
"I won't," the woman replied firmly, then repeated it more softly: "I won't."
Nancy walked back slowly. She didn't want people to see her leaving the witch's house, so she had to take the long way back through the back alleys and fields. Maybe it was for the best. At home, there was always something to do: a surface to wipe, a dish to wash, weeds to pull, a garden to water, and before you knew it, it was evening and time for bed. You never had time to truly think during the day. But now, she had time...
***
She had raised Jack alone. Tom, his father, had been a flake. When he found out Nancy was pregnant, he married her quickly just to keep his reputation in town. Two months later, he was shipped off to basic training. He and another local boy, a mechanic named Bill, were given a rowdy send-off. They were stationed somewhere overseas. Bill later told everyone that Tom had started an affair with a nurse there and sent a short note through a fellow soldier saying he didn't want a divorce, but he wasn't coming home either. Nancy poured all her unspent love into her growing son.
Jack grew up smart and easygoing; he never gave her a day of trouble. He'd clean the house and cook meals. He did his homework on his own, brought home straight A's, and even managed to work part-time. Ever since he was a kid, he loved woodworking—making a stool for one neighbor, fixing a porch for another—it was all extra money. People advised the young mother to get a divorce and try to start a new family, but Nancy didn't think about remarriage. It's true that Bill, the mechanic, had asked her out once, but she didn't like him at all. And no other suitors seemed to show up.
To have a night out with a beautiful woman, to spend a pleasant evening together—there were always plenty of takers for that. Но no one was in a hurry to marry her, and if you thought about it, it made sense. Nancy was a woman with a temper; men are afraid of women like that. And then there was the child. A good, wonderful boy, but still, someone else's.
"You need more children," her only friend and neighbor, Linda, never tired of saying. "You're going to smother Jack with all that love."
"Why would I?" Nancy would snap. "He's hardworking, not spoiled. How am I smothering him?"
"There are different ways to smother someone," the neighbor replied thoughtfully. "Jack's a good kid, but you've grown too attached. When he gets married, what are you going to do? You'll drive his wife into an early grave..."
Nancy brushed off her friend's words. Jack was still so small! Weddings and daughters-in-law were a long way off; they wouldn't happen tomorrow. Maybe she should have agreed back then? She could have lived with Bill, gotten used to him... love grows with time. They would have had more children. Perhaps then her heart wouldn't be tormented by this cruel pain of resentment and loneliness.
Everything was fine until Nancy found out that Jack, then a senior in high school, was dating Natalie. She knew the girl well; her parents lived nearby, just three houses past the bend. Though Nancy felt a slight sting of maternal jealousy, she didn't interfere—let them date. He'd have plenty of Natalies! Once the boy finished school, she'd send him off to the city. He'd get an education, and then maybe he'd find a good match, someone who could help him get ahead. She wanted a girl with a dowry, from a respectable family with connections. People like that could help a son-in-law succeed and wouldn't forget their own daughter.
She didn't tell her son about her ambitious dreams. He was at a reckless age; if he started rebelling, he'd do the opposite of whatever his elders said. Let him study in peace for now. As long as Natalie didn't get pregnant! That was what Nancy truly feared. But she still hoped for Jack's common sense, and even more so, for Natalie's modesty. After all, a guy could just pack up and leave! The girl would be the one left to deal with the shame.
But Jack ruined all his mother's plans right after graduation, announcing that he wasn't going to any city; he was staying in his hometown to be a carpenter. But worst of all, he told his mother he was getting married soon. To his beloved Natalie. Hearing this, his mother burst into tears:
"Why, why are you in such a hurry, Jack!" she begged. "You don't know anything about life yet, you haven't seen other girls! You dated one girl—does that mean she's the one forever?"
"I love her, Mom," Jack replied shortly. He didn't say another word.
***
"'I love her, Mom,' that's his whole answer!" Nancy complained to her friend. "What am I going to do, Linda? I'm at my wits' end! He shouldn't be getting married; he's just a child!"
"That child started bringing money home in middle school, and by high school, he was earning more than you," her neighbor reminded her sternly. "And Natalie's a good girl. Let them get married if they're in love."
"I don't want them to!" Nancy sobbed. "She'll be the ruin of my Jack! I feel it in my heart, Linda, she'll ruin him! A mother's heart is never wrong! I gave my whole life for him!"
"A mother's heart? Right," Linda scoffed. "Stop lying to yourself, Nancy. That's not what you're afraid of."
"Then what is it?" Nancy wiped her tears with her palm and looked at her neighbor in surprise.
"You're afraid that his wife will become more important to him than you are! But why compare a wife to a mother? A wife is one thing, but a mother is a mother."
That night, Nancy couldn't close her eyes for a long time, thinking about what her neighbor had said. Natalie really was known as a modest, hardworking girl, and she clearly loved Jack. Why was it so bitter for a mother to think about their wedding? Nancy didn't want to admit it to herself, but most of all, she feared that once her son married, he would forget her. Who else did she have? What would she do in a house emptied of Jack? Even though Linda said she shouldn't fear loneliness—that the family would actually grow (she'd have a daughter-in-law and eventually grandkids)—Nancy knew for certain: she would not accept the girl. And the grandchildren wouldn't feel like her own. That would be Jack's family, not hers.
She didn't dare argue with her son anymore. She knew he was easygoing, but only until it came to something serious. Then he'd stand his ground. Nancy was afraid Jack would cut her off entirely. All she could do was wait submissively for the wedding. As if to spite her, everyone at the reception did nothing but praise the young couple and predict unprecedented happiness! Nancy sat with her eyes fixed on her empty plate. She couldn't swallow a bite, and more than anything, she wished there was just one decent person who understood a mother's grief. She had spent her whole life struggling for him, her baby boy! And now, look: he found a wife, and his mother didn't matter anymore! Where was she, a lonely woman, supposed to go? What about her?!
"You should eat something, Nancy," Linda nudged her with an elbow. "You're not at a funeral!"
"Yes, I am," Nancy muttered. "My own."
As the guests stayed late, raising toasts to the health and future happiness of the newlyweds, Nancy wanted to cry. No one pitied her, the wretched one; quite the opposite. For some reason, everyone thought Jack's wedding was a celebration for her. How could it be a celebration when tomorrow Nancy wouldn't be getting up at dawn to feed her son before work? She wouldn't be packing his lunch so he wouldn't go hungry. Now she could sleep until noon, and nothing would change! She wouldn't be telling her son when he came home in the evening to wash up and brush the sawdust out of his hair. She didn't have to warm up dinner. She didn't even have to cook; no one would say a word.
The guests talked about how Nancy had raised her son and could finally think about herself. She wasn't old yet. And she was free. Free...
"She's not free now," Nancy thought, "she's unneeded."
Her son, Jack, had needed her, but now he had a wife. She wasn't needed by anyone now. No one at all...
In the first six months after the wedding, Nancy still had hope. She thought Jack would get his fill of his young wife, have his fun, and then get bored. He was a young man; he'd want variety... Lord, if his father's straying genes would just kick in now, Nancy would actually be happy! But it didn't happen. Within a year, Jack was cradling a son in his arms, and a daughter followed soon after. Nancy forced herself to interact with the grandchildren. Both took after Natalie, and as for that woman, she seemed entirely unfazed by childbirth. She'd give birth, nurse them, and be slender and vibrant all over again!
Nancy wanted the pregnancies to destroy her daughter-in-law's brazen beauty. By then, she had stopped hiding the shameful truth from herself: she wanted Natalie to lose her figure, her youthful spark, and those thick, lush locks of hair. Because maybe then Jack would, as men often do, turn away from his wife. And everyone knows that when a wife is unloved, the children become a burden too. Besides, she desperately wanted to get even with the girl. Weren't there enough guys in town? No, she had to take an only son from a lonely mother! Jack visited often, almost every day. Nancy herself didn't like visiting her son's house. Why bother? The wife was the boss there! A couple of times, Nancy tried to tell her son that the kids didn't look like him at all. Who knew what Natalie had been up to?
Jack, the brat, only laughed: "You're just worried about me, Mom, and you've been listening to gossip! They're mine, Michael and Mia! Look for yourself—they have the same moles I do, and Mia's dark like me! Your fears are just clouding your eyes."
She had to shut up. But it was hard to hold back the spite. If her son came over hungry, Nancy would immediately ask, "What's the matter, doesn't your wife feed you? Or is her cooking so bad you can't swallow it, and you have to come to your mother to eat?"
If Jack arrived tired, Nancy would ask sympathetically, "Does your wife not let you rest? She doesn't work herself, so what does she care? Her husband brings the money and handles the chores."
Sometimes, for her son's sake, she tried to keep quiet. She saw that he didn't like it. But the words just begged to be spoken! Eventually, Jack started coming less and less often, and soon he was only dropping by once a week and staying for no more than half an hour. Nancy cried bitterly at night, and during the day, she hid her red eyes from people.
***
"Here!" Sarah pushed a dark glass bottle toward Nancy. "This is for your Jack, to cool his heart. Pour it all into his tea as soon as he comes to visit."
"And her?" Nancy curled her lips. It was sickening even to say her daughter-in-law's name.
"And this is for her," the witch took a small perfume bottle from her pocket. "Give it to your son, tell him it's for her. I didn't want to use chocolate; the children would eat it. But perfume is fine. She'll spray it on, and that's it. She'll lose her looks."
"Thank you," Nancy briskly tucked the perfume and the potion into her bag.
Sarah kept her thoughtful gaze fixed on her.
"So, you haven't changed your mind."
"Why would I change my mind!" the woman cried indignantly. "Didn't I tell you? she doesn't feed him, she wears him out with work! He's not made of steel! I have one son—how am I supposed to watch this? And the children? Are they even his?"
"Fine," the witch cut her off dryly. "Go."
***
Dawn had long since painted the morning sky, but Natalie was still lying in bed. Usually by this time, she was busy with chores, feeding the kids, and seeing her husband off to work. Но for a week now, a strange illness had taken hold of her. She had no strength at all. The doctor, after hearing her complaints, sent her for blood tests to check for anemia but found nothing. Everything was fine. Yet it became harder for Natalie to get up in the morning and do her usual tasks. Sometimes it felt like even moving her hand was a chore. She often drifted off while walking, became absent-minded and indifferent to everything, and now she barely got up at all. Jack groaned heavily as he woke up.
"Still lounging around?" he spat, looking at his wife.
Natalie winced at the sharp smell of stale booze; Jack had been drinking for several days now. He had stopped going to work. It was strange. He had always been indifferent to alcohol, but now it seemed the bottle was the only thing that drew him.
"I'm just feeling weak, Jack," the woman replied apologetically. "I can't get up."
"Then keep lounging and getting fat." Her husband abruptly threw off the blanket and stood up.
"I'm going to my mother's. At least she'll cook something. Don't wait up."
"When will you be back?"
He looked at her with dull, indifferent eyes.
"I'm not coming back. I'm sick of you. I wish I never had to see you again..."
Natalie turned to the wall. Tears began to flow on their own. She didn't want Jack to see her crying.
***
"I told you, Linda, she's a lazy leech!" Nancy said triumphantly.
Linda shrugged. "Why lazy? Her husband's a drunk, he's abandoned the family... she's suffering."
"Suffering?! Did you see the kids bringing fruit home from daycare? To eat themselves and to feed that wretch! She doesn't even get out of bed!"
"And what about your son? Why won't he help his sick wife and his own children?" Linda bored her gaze into her neighbor. "Or has the drinking become more important to him than his family?"
"And why do you think he's drinking?!" Nancy flared up. "Because that snake Natalie has sucked the life out of him!"
"And what about you?" the neighbor persisted. "Why didn't you help? They came to you, begging for just a loaf of bread. You didn't even let them on the porch, told them they weren't his. You have no shame, Nancy! You denied a crust of bread to your own grandchildren! Who are you going to turn to when you're old? How will you answer to God?"
"They aren't his! Do you think I don't see they don't look like Jack at all?!" she continued shouting plenty of nasty things about her daughter-in-law at her neighbor's back.
***
"Natalie! Nataaalie!" a soft, soulful voice called.
Her eyelids wouldn't lift. Was it day? Night? It didn't matter...
"Natalie!"
A warm palm rested on her forehead. Suddenly, strength returned. She opened her eyes with effort. A dark-haired woman was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Sarah..."
"I've come to confess, Natalie," the witch said, bowing her head. "The devil tempted me, and I believed your mother-in-law. She came to me. She wanted to get rid of you so Jack would go back to her."
"I want to sleep..."
Her eyes were closing.
"Sleep. Sleep now, and in the morning, it will all be gone."
Sarah clutched the perfume bottle in her hand—the mother-in-law's gift.
"I'm taking this perfume with me. I'll throw it into Drifter's Pool, and the curse will be lifted from you. And Jack will stop drinking. He'll come back; just take him in, don't hold a grudge. It wasn't his fault. And don't be afraid of your mother-in-law. She won't be able to hurt you anymore."
"Yes..." Natalie replied softly, falling into a deep sleep.
"And I'm leaving this place, Natalie. My parents found no happiness here, and neither will I."
"Parents?.." Natalie asked with the last of her strength.
"Yes, Natalie," Sarah's beautiful face darkened for a second. "My father drowned in that pond. In Drifter's Pool. I thought I'd come back and settle down... but how can you settle down when your parents suffered so much grief here. I'm leaving."
In the morning, Natalie woke up early. A wonderful lightness and freshness filled her body. She wanted to jump up and dance, but the children were still asleep. It was too early to wake them. She lay there for a bit, remembering the strange dream: the witch saying something about perfume, about throwing it into Drifter's Pool... The door creaked open, and the children peeked into the room.
"I'm getting up, my sweethearts," Natalie said, surprised by the cheerfulness in her own voice.
She rose easily and went to the kitchen to fix breakfast. As she left the room, her gaze swept over the vanity. The bottle was gone.
***
Sometime later, Nancy was tearfully trying to justify herself to her son.
"I only wanted what was best, son!" Nancy sobbed. "There are so many girls in the world—beautiful, smart, wealthy! You could have gone to the city and found a thousand Natalies! Better than her! I only wanted the best for everyone!"
"The best?" Jack looked at his mother with eyes wide with shock. "You nearly killed my wife! My children would have been orphans! I nearly drank myself into the ground! This is your 'best'?!"
Neighbors, pressed against their windows, watched as the elderly woman ran down the street after her son, begging him to come back and screaming something about the witch Sarah. Jack didn't look back; he walked toward the house where his family lived. Natalie was sitting on the porch. The children were nestled close to her, listening to a story. They didn't immediately hear the gate open or the rustle of their father's footsteps on the path.
"Natalie!" he called to his wife.
She set the book aside and stood up.
"I know," she answered his unspoken question. "I know everything. Sarah told me."
The house where the witch lived was empty that night. Now its windows were boarded up tight, and weeds grew thick in the yard. No one knew where Sarah had gone, but for some reason, everyone was sure she wouldn't be coming back.
"You've paid for your spite!" Linda didn't mince words. "That's why people want nothing to do with you, why you're hiding from the world!"
Nancy only frowned, not answering. What could she say? They wouldn't understand anyway, not in a million years! The whole town had turned its back on her; no one even said hello. And her? What was she to blame for? She just wanted her son to stay with her.
But after what happened, her son renounced his mother. Could love really be like that—destroying everything in its path?
Nancy could never accept that her son could be happy without her. She lived the rest of her life in total isolation.
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