Pomegranates. Motherflowering pomegranates. That’s what caused the monster baby boom on the mountain this spring. Geri and Freki found the tree during one of their long wandering runs and each brought a pomegranate back to me. I don’t move as quickly as they do, so it took two days for them to lead me back to the spot. I’m happy to say the tree is now bound and won’t be causing another ruckus next spring. She was fecund though, so many deep red, ripe fruits hung from her branches. I hauled as many as I could carry back with me. I’ll plant a few here, too. Most parts of the tree are useful in some kind of magic or other.
As happens with these chance plant encounters, I came across it just in time to help a client. I was prepping fruit for jam when I heard probably the most horrifying sound this planet has ever produced.
Children. A lot of children. Curse their piercing screams of excitement and squealing laughter, like demented bipedal piglets. No volume control, whatsoever. No self-awareness, just noise and chaos. The stories are true, by the way, witches do eat children and use their squishy little bodies in spells. And the noise is precisely why. So. Much. Noise. Being a plant witch, they’re not on my ingredients list, but as I heard them cavorting up my mountain like a cavalcade of clowns on helium I was very tempted set the dogs on them and make baby jam along with the pomegranate.
The cats talked me out of it, though, citing my own oft used excuse for seeing off-putting clients: professional curiosity. What could bring all these sour smelling bindweeds to my door? What indeed. They were, surprisingly, accompanied by adults. The dogs and I went out to meet them on the porch. The noise stopped abruptly, for approximately three seconds. And then one small child screamed something like doggy and started clambering up the steps toward us. The others, a dozen or so of varying ages, started screaming and scrambling toward us. I quite possibly felt actual fear.
“Why the fuck?” Was honestly the best I could do in that moment. The two adults bringing up the rear of their tot army pushed through to the front.
“Hi,” the father spoke, his wife clung to him. “Sorry to barge in like this, but we couldn’t find a contact number or any way to schedule an appointment.”
“What about a babysitter? Or a zoo keeper…”
The wife brought her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, she wore a pastel flowery dress thing. The man, wearing slacks, spoke up again. “The children are the reason we’re here. So we needed to bring them.”
I thought about it for a second. If I left them outside there were a million and one things that would kill them. If I let them come inside they would probably just wreck my stuff. One of the cats twined around my legs. I looked down.
“Could be interesting,” she purred.
Ugh.
“Fine. You can come inside, but there will be absolutely NO noise. My dogs will eat you.” Geri walked inside and Freki and I stood on either side of the door as the children filed in. There were fourteen, the oldest was probably sixteen. He looked smug, like he knew something the others didn’t. I was starting to get an idea of what was going on here. I sat the children on the floor and put the dogs on either side of their little group. They ranged in age from baby to the oldest teenager. I dropped my glamour as I leaned over the group and my face changed to the withered old hag I actually am, papery pale skin with veins pulsing visibly beneath the surface, stringy patches of hair falling across my face. Not too many teeth left.
“Don’t make a sound,” I hissed. The brood froze in silence. How long it would last, well, I didn’t have high hopes. I put the glamour back on and motioned the parents to sit.
“Names?”
“Oh, I’m John and this is my wife Sarah.”
“And these are our children, Joshua, Diane-“
“No. No, I don’t need all of their names. No. Why are you here?”
“Well, we have a bit of a financial problem,” John started, Sarah nodded along, trying to keep from crying. “You see food, well actually everything, is getting so expensive, we can’t afford to feed or care for all of our children anymore.”
“Why did you have so many?” I knew the answer, but I think it’s important for people to speak their absurdities out loud.
“Go forth and multiply. The Lord commands it,” John’s voice broke as he said it.
“And now you’ve realized that the Lord is full of shit and you’ve come to Satan for help?”
Sarah sobbed into her hand.
“Not exactly.”
“Then what exactly?”
John stuttered, “I mean we prayed, but things just got worse.”
“Mmhm,” I nodded. Everyone reads Job and thinks that could never be me.
“So what are we supposed to do? We tried to get a TV show, but apparently traditional families don’t get ratings anymore.”
“The TV people said viewers see having so many children as irresponsible,” Sarah sobbed, loudly. One of the dogs growled and I looked over, two children in diapers were attempting to crawl away from the group.
“Keep your children together,” I said to John.
“Elijah, get your sisters.”
The boy who was presumably Elijah pointed to Geri and shook his head violently. John nudged Sarah. She got up and set the two children back into the group with the others.
“Mom I’m bored!” Another child wailed.
“I’m hungry!”
The group immediately devolved into whining and squabbling. The dogs looked up at me. I looked to John.
“Did you have a specific resolution in mind?”
“We love all of our children-“
Two broke away and ran for the door. Sarah scrambled after them.
“-but we just can’t afford them-“
One climbed up onto the chair next to me and started screaming “Dinner! Dinner! Dinner!” Oh holy Hecate, the urge to set the chair alight so help me…
“-as you can see, they’re hungry-“
Geri whined and I looked over to see a child on his back.
“-could we get them all combined into one child?”
My obsidian ball screamed as a sticky finger streaked its surface. The owner of that finger started to cry.
“I’m sorry, like physically, you want an amalgam?”
“Well, no, we want it more like multiple personalities in one body. So we still have all of our children, but we only have to feed one.”
“That is just- fucked up. How do you expect that child to ever be functional?”
“We don’t mind taking care of one child forever, if that’s necessary. It’s just, there are so many right now. We can’t-”
“And combining all of their souls into one body is how you get out of being murderers?”
“Well...”
“What will you tell people? Not that I care, I’m just curious.”
“We’re planning on moving away from our neighborhood and disappearing from social media.”
“Interesting….” This would definitely backfire. An interesting challenge though. I looked at the pomegranates sitting on the kitchen counter. Could I make an anti-fertility spell. “Which kid do you want to house all the others?” One of the cats snickered from under my reading chair, then hissed as a child crept toward them.
“The oldest, Joshua.”
The smug one. I wondered how they sold him on this. He held one of his younger siblings on his hip and looked over at us.
“You agreed to this?”
“Of course, I want to help out my family.”
“Did you consider a part time job?”
“This is what my parents think is best.”
“You’re going to be a nutcase. You’ll have no life of your own. Never go to collage, never date, no family of your own.”
“I’m ok with it.”
He didn’t understand his own fragility, teenagers rarely do. I looked at the toddler on his hip. It was an interesting dilemma. The teen would have fewer years of suffering, but would they be harder on him? The baby’s brain might be elastic enough to adapt. But if it didn’t, what would that look like? To be honest I felt a little better about turning the whole family out and having the forest devour them.
“Did you tell the other children your plans?”
John and Sarah looked anywhere but me. “No,” Sarah said. “Most of them are too young-“ she broke off, crying again.
“So, will you do it?” John said, snapping his fingers at one of the babies licking the wood floor.
“Yes and no.”
“Is that some kind of riddle?” John shifted in his seat.
“Do you want it to be?”
He took a deep breath.
“We just don’t understand,” Sarah rested her hand on John’s shoulder as she stood, bouncing a toddler on her hip.
“I’ll put the children back inside you two. Split them up however you like, but they are all going back inside you, mom and pop. You made them, you take them back.”
“What? That’s absurd!” John was shaking, but remained seated. Sarah stood still behind him, her hand over her mouth as she looked at her unruly brood.
“It’s that or you leave.”
“I’ll take them all,” Sarah turned suddenly. I knew she would, she was accustomed to her body being used like an implement.
“No dice. You each take half or you leave and march this lot back down the mountain.”
“That’s stupid, she’s willing!” John lurched up and leaned over the table at me. I knew he would, he was used to being in charge. I didn’t move. I let the fire of Lucifer shine through my eyes as I spoke.
“I really want you to suffer the consequences of your actions.”
He tried to speak but couldn’t, then sat back down.
They were silent, so I continued, “You’re free to leave. In fact I’d encourage it.”
They wouldn’t look at each other.
“You have exactly thirty seconds before I open the door and let the spawn run free.”
“Fine. Fine. How bad can it really be?” John muttered. Sarah just nodded.
“I have no idea what it’ll be like,” I smiled. “I’ve never done this before.” I rose from the table and walked to the kitchen counter where I had set all the pomegranates and picked the reddest one.
“Keep them all still,” I said, raising the heavy fruit over my head. John and Sarah, came to stand by their children. I slammed the fruit to the floor. It landed with a thud and split open, fourteen seeds broke loose from their paper-skinned prisons. I pointed at the oldest child.
“Pick up a seed, feed it to the parent who asks you to.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“I have no idea. But you can probably take care of yourself, leave if you want.” I pointed to the door.
He stood near me, looking down at the ruby fleshed seeds and the juice staining my hardwoods. Then he picked one up. He turned and stood in front of his parents.
“Come here, son,” John said. And Joshua fed him the pomegranate seed, gingerly popping it in his mouth. John swallowed. Even the small children went still. The cabin’s corners darkened and we sat within a halo glow of soft green light. A perfumed breeze wound its way around us.
Joshua screamed. His body collapsed in on itself, bones cracked and there was a squeezing squishing sound before his body collapsed in again, this time into particles. A ribbon of mist shot into John’s nostrils, he screamed and it filled his mouth. In seconds Joshua was gone.
I looked at Sarah, she had fallen to her knees and knelt with her mouth open and tears running down her cheeks.
“Here, mommy, you can have one, too,” one of the little girls popped a pomegranate seed in her mouth. She reflexively swallowed.
“What? No!” She clutched at the little girl as her body imploded. “My baby!”
John stood watching, his hands on his hips. As the little girl dissipated, he turned to the next oldest boy.
“Your turn. Pick up a seed.”
The boy was eleven or twelve. He bolted for the door and was gone before John could stop him.
“No!” Sarah screamed.
“He belongs to the mountain now,” I stretched, looking at the remaining eleven children. “How about we move this along? Two at time maybe?”
John nodded. He pointed at two of the children, “Bring me seeds.” They were crying as they did. Before the half hour was out, only the baby was left. John held the pomegranate seed between its fingers and helped it feed the seed to his wife. She could barely stay upright.
To be honest, I figured they’d give up after the first one or two. But now it was done. I threw open the front door to let in some fresh air and gave them both a cup of my revitalization tea. They were exhausted and quiet. When they were done with their tea, I showed them the door. They left in silence.
They were picked up by police within a week. Family called in the children’s disappearances. The story they told was bonkers, that, along with their bizarre behavior earned them long term psychiatric care. It’s difficult for the law to prove murder without bodies.
There are some things you can’t take back.
I’ve had the dogs searching for the runaway, but so far, he remains elusive…
