It would be an odd tale to many and certainly it was something that had left Clem Willard confused since he met the
weird woman beyond the headland, but for his little companion shuffling her bare feet to keep up with his long strides,
it was an account she'd heard a couple of times during her mission of dealing with the many grades of the supernatural.
Unaware of the direction of their amble, Peggy Powler listened to the sixteen year-old in the knee-high pants explain
how he'd accidently discovered Gretna Grindylow in a cavern on the other side of the headland and how she had paid
him for information about the denizens of Seamarshes. The actual theme regarding their route only came up when tall
lad stopped to empty sand from his boot, this he did without slowing his confession.
"I was supposed to do some fishing for Gulpers today..." he muttered as he balanced on one leg and poured the sugary
-white particles from his footwear. "...But just being near that place gives me the heebie-jeebies" he admitted with a flick
of his blonde hair and setting his mineral-free boot back into the warm sand of the narrow path, he peered down at the
studious woman in the sagging pointy hat.
"I just thought talking to you and using this side of the bay would be better than letting my Pa find out I was dodging
my chores" he disclosed with a hint of shame that didn't go unnoticed by the Last Witch of Underhill. "Aye well, it's
an ill wind that blows no bugger any good" Peggy agreed and seemingly distracted by something, walked on, leaving
Clem befuddled at her comment.
He'd always been a child who his parents had been proud of, Seamarshes may not have been the hub of high intellect
or business-nous, but Ben and Millie Willard had been confident that the growing lad's moral compass would keep him
on a track that would lead him to a fair and comfortable future here in the fairly-prosperous seaside village or elsewhere.
Now looking at the soles of the crouching Witch's feet, it seemed to him that the actual thoroughfare he and Peggy were
on held more interest for the poncho-wearing sorceress than the teenager's highway of his destiny.
"Please don't get me wrong, Miss Powler..." Clem explained as he caught up with the bare-footed woman kneeling in the
bleached sand. Far off, he thought he heard a faint sound of two people talking loudly to each other through the gently
-swaying reeds, but Clem needed to clear his conscience to the one person outside of his household he could truly trust.
Ignoring this assumed heated exchange just beyond the wall of foliage, the young man added "...I'm not lazy, Ma'am
and I do appreciate the frollis that my folks need from fishing for Nosy-Gulpers, but this Gretna Grindylow-person has
really scared me" he professed as the hunkered spell-worker -who seemed to be seeding the sand with a similar-coloured
powder from her satchel, nodded absently in agreement with the young man's self-diagnosis.
Then rising from her squat, she suddenly turned towards him.
"Yer' keep yer' voice low from now on, yer' hear?" the Witch with the squinting stare whispered up at the stunned young
man and softly patting his sleeved-arm, she neutralised any thoughts that Clem may have had that she was angry for
some reason. "Iffn' the thing yer' found in the cave is what Ah' think it is, the bugger is up te' somethin' that involves
destroyin' yer' village." As the oddly-matched pair peered at each other, Peggy began to say "We need te' play this canny
and we need te'..." and then abruptly flung her arms around the upper-waist of the surprised Clem Willard.
A seagull wheeled overhead leaving it's late afternoon shadow somewhere on the sandy track just as a woman appeared
from where the the reed-hemmed path must lead to and encountering this assumed couple of undercover lovers, slowed
her travel. "Oh Clem, me-darlin'..." Peggy squeaked dramatically, "we should run away te'gether and..." then curtailed her
suggestion as she glowered towards the newcomer in the long silky-red dress.
Muriel Gump gaped back as she recognised both secretive paramours and in that moment, the little Witch whispered
something that the young man failed to hear. "Oh, I do apologise for my intrusion" the well-dressed lady gasped and
averting her eyes to the trail ahead of her, swished her out-of-place apparel in the act of leaving the clandestine tryst.
Clem's lungs were bursting and his ears seemed to be making a high-pitched whine as he mentally dealt with the weird
situation. Here he was with a woman hugging him without any signals of intimate attraction from himself and now, some
stranger passing by might gossip to his parents about this compromising setting.
Peggy waited until the following shadow of the well-formed and well-attired female had disappeared along the trail before
releasing the wide-eyed boy from her embrace. "Sorry about that, young-un'" she breathed softly as she peered along the
track where Miss Gump had gone. Seeing it was very likely that the woman had merely ducked into the tall reeds for an
opportunity to intrude further on this supposed-romantic encounter, the little Witch decided to take her blather with the
bewildered kid somewhere more private.
Reaching for Clem's hand and at the same time, putting her finger to her lips, Peggy led her assumed sweetheart down
the path towards Abner Cuthbert's boat-building business and away from the ears of who she believed was hiding herself
and her true identity. Glancing back every-so-often along the sandy avenue that led to Seamarshes, Peggy Powler glumly
resigned herself to the fact that her holiday was over.
weird woman beyond the headland, but for his little companion shuffling her bare feet to keep up with his long strides,
it was an account she'd heard a couple of times during her mission of dealing with the many grades of the supernatural.
Unaware of the direction of their amble, Peggy Powler listened to the sixteen year-old in the knee-high pants explain
how he'd accidently discovered Gretna Grindylow in a cavern on the other side of the headland and how she had paid
him for information about the denizens of Seamarshes. The actual theme regarding their route only came up when tall
lad stopped to empty sand from his boot, this he did without slowing his confession.
"I was supposed to do some fishing for Gulpers today..." he muttered as he balanced on one leg and poured the sugary
-white particles from his footwear. "...But just being near that place gives me the heebie-jeebies" he admitted with a flick
of his blonde hair and setting his mineral-free boot back into the warm sand of the narrow path, he peered down at the
studious woman in the sagging pointy hat.
"I just thought talking to you and using this side of the bay would be better than letting my Pa find out I was dodging
my chores" he disclosed with a hint of shame that didn't go unnoticed by the Last Witch of Underhill. "Aye well, it's
an ill wind that blows no bugger any good" Peggy agreed and seemingly distracted by something, walked on, leaving
Clem befuddled at her comment.
He'd always been a child who his parents had been proud of, Seamarshes may not have been the hub of high intellect
or business-nous, but Ben and Millie Willard had been confident that the growing lad's moral compass would keep him
on a track that would lead him to a fair and comfortable future here in the fairly-prosperous seaside village or elsewhere.
Now looking at the soles of the crouching Witch's feet, it seemed to him that the actual thoroughfare he and Peggy were
on held more interest for the poncho-wearing sorceress than the teenager's highway of his destiny.
"Please don't get me wrong, Miss Powler..." Clem explained as he caught up with the bare-footed woman kneeling in the
bleached sand. Far off, he thought he heard a faint sound of two people talking loudly to each other through the gently
-swaying reeds, but Clem needed to clear his conscience to the one person outside of his household he could truly trust.
Ignoring this assumed heated exchange just beyond the wall of foliage, the young man added "...I'm not lazy, Ma'am
and I do appreciate the frollis that my folks need from fishing for Nosy-Gulpers, but this Gretna Grindylow-person has
really scared me" he professed as the hunkered spell-worker -who seemed to be seeding the sand with a similar-coloured
powder from her satchel, nodded absently in agreement with the young man's self-diagnosis.
Then rising from her squat, she suddenly turned towards him.
"Yer' keep yer' voice low from now on, yer' hear?" the Witch with the squinting stare whispered up at the stunned young
man and softly patting his sleeved-arm, she neutralised any thoughts that Clem may have had that she was angry for
some reason. "Iffn' the thing yer' found in the cave is what Ah' think it is, the bugger is up te' somethin' that involves
destroyin' yer' village." As the oddly-matched pair peered at each other, Peggy began to say "We need te' play this canny
and we need te'..." and then abruptly flung her arms around the upper-waist of the surprised Clem Willard.
A seagull wheeled overhead leaving it's late afternoon shadow somewhere on the sandy track just as a woman appeared
from where the the reed-hemmed path must lead to and encountering this assumed couple of undercover lovers, slowed
her travel. "Oh Clem, me-darlin'..." Peggy squeaked dramatically, "we should run away te'gether and..." then curtailed her
suggestion as she glowered towards the newcomer in the long silky-red dress.
Muriel Gump gaped back as she recognised both secretive paramours and in that moment, the little Witch whispered
something that the young man failed to hear. "Oh, I do apologise for my intrusion" the well-dressed lady gasped and
averting her eyes to the trail ahead of her, swished her out-of-place apparel in the act of leaving the clandestine tryst.
Clem's lungs were bursting and his ears seemed to be making a high-pitched whine as he mentally dealt with the weird
situation. Here he was with a woman hugging him without any signals of intimate attraction from himself and now, some
stranger passing by might gossip to his parents about this compromising setting.
Peggy waited until the following shadow of the well-formed and well-attired female had disappeared along the trail before
releasing the wide-eyed boy from her embrace. "Sorry about that, young-un'" she breathed softly as she peered along the
track where Miss Gump had gone. Seeing it was very likely that the woman had merely ducked into the tall reeds for an
opportunity to intrude further on this supposed-romantic encounter, the little Witch decided to take her blather with the
bewildered kid somewhere more private.
Reaching for Clem's hand and at the same time, putting her finger to her lips, Peggy led her assumed sweetheart down
the path towards Abner Cuthbert's boat-building business and away from the ears of who she believed was hiding herself
and her true identity. Glancing back every-so-often along the sandy avenue that led to Seamarshes, Peggy Powler glumly
resigned herself to the fact that her holiday was over.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.