Undying Witch, page 17
She set Medea down on the floor and kneeled, petting her daughter and remembering her promise to be a better mother.
“I’m pregnant with Nick-Nick’s baby, by the way. See how you ruined my plans by murdering my lover? We were planning on getting rid of Dragna and putting Nick-Nick in his place. I could have ruled Los Angeles. We could have ruled Los Angeles, you and I.”
Medea hissed and spit at Dima.
She ignored the cat’s temper, remembering her vow of being a better mother.
“Now, because of you, I’ve had to sell another pearl and I only have 136 pearls left. I shall live forever so I need to use those pearls sparingly.”
The cat, her daughter, stuck its tongue out at her.
“Get used to being thirsty. We shall have to hide in the desert for six months until your baby brother or sister is born. The Brotherhood of the Castle and the mafia are after us. Napoleone’s son, Titus, vows vengeance though he is only eight years old.” She eyed Medea. “Sometimes, the youngest witch is the most vicious.” She smacked Medea on her furry head.
“And the oldest is the cruelest,” Medea said in an odd sounding voice that had a bit of a meow to it. She clawed her mother on the leg and left a bleeding scratch wound.
“You are a hellcat, Medea, and stupid to boot. The mafia or the Brotherhood may have followed you. Death Valley Junction is no longer safe for us.”
Dima turned into a young woman and loaded the car. Her one regret in turning her daughter into a cat was that Medea could not help her load the trunk and suitcases.
Dima had promised to be a better mother so she bought Medea a red collar with fake diamonds. “Don’t you look like a snazzy cat.”
Medea turned her head to the wall and put her ears back. She was not talking or meowing at her mother.
The young, new Dima drove away in a new stolen car, a vehicle better than a Model T. Plus, the jitney driver must have reported his car missing and Dima had ditched the car when she first got to Death Valley Junction, which was a walkable town.
Medea lay on her lap mother’s, sulking and sucking on a furry paw.
Dima’s face was full of scratches but she had managed to sort of tame her daughter.
Pompeii sulked in the trunk, unhappy that Medea had returned.
The other cats sat in the back of the car, whining for attention.
“The others are jealous of you because you can speak human talk and they cannot.”
Medea sat up straight on Dima’s lap, her neck long like an alley cat. She turned to the cats in the back and yelled out, “Shut up, dumb felines, before I rip out your claws with my teeth!” She hissed, showing her vampire-like cat teeth.
The cats turned silent, and Medea stuck out her furry chest. The cats had never minded her before. Well, she did have some power now.
She lay back down, flexing her claws, and purring reluctantly. Damn a cat’s nature, Medea thought and lifted a leg to lick her ass.
Dima said to Medea, mainly to make herself feel less guilty, “Well, you won’t live forever like me but as a cat, you now have nine lives.”
Medea kneaded her paws on Dima’s lap. Medea once read that kittens did this to stimulate their mother’s milk. Maybe she could stimulate her mother’s milk of human kindness.
Since Dima was pregnant, Medea managed to stain her blouse with drops of milk.
“Stop it,” Dima yelled. “Quit acting like you’re kneading bread with your paws on me. You’re making my milk come through and it’s too early in my pregnancy!”
She threatened Medea with a newspaper and then laughed when her daughter backed fearfully away, her whiskers shaking.
Well, turning her daughter into a cat was a successful way to cure a wild teenage girl.
A voice blasted the radio: “We interrupt this station to bring you an important broadcast.”
It was December 5, 1933 and the car radio announced that Prohibition was appealed.
A case of Strega liquor bottles rattled in the back.
“This country is going to the dogs. I may as well have stayed in Russia,” Dima complained.
Medea bit Dima in the leg and she flung her daughter to the floor.
“We almost got into an accident because of you. I only have one hand to drive with,” she yelled at Medea. “And don’t you dare poop on the floor. Wait until I fill the litter box with dirt.”
Medea blinked her orangish-cat different-colored eyes at her and gave a kitten-like meow.
“Maybe I’ll have better luck with my next child,” Dima muttered.
“Well,” she said to Medea, mainly to make herself feel less guilty, “At least, as a cat, you will always land on your feet. And you can now climb much higher and jump to maybe, I guess, six times your height? And just think of all the dirt there will be in the desert of Death Valley. The desert is like one big litter box.”
Medea licked her fur and then spit up a hairball.
“Well there are some disadvantages to being a cat, I agree, but then being a human is not always easy,” Dima said. “For instance, look at all these luckless, dusty people traveling through Death Valley.”
Miles of caravans of cars headed to California. It was the Great Depression and everyone thought there was work in sunny California, home to the movie stars.
As for Dima, she drove across Death Valley, away from California, with her daughter meowing beside her.
An Afterword from the Author
Thank you so much for reading Undying Witch. I hope you enjoyed this novel.
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All my best,
B. Austin
About the Author B. Austin
I am the daughter of a bigamist. I was born in California. My parents moved back to Albuquerque, New Mexico when I was still small enough to have to stand on a chair to dry dishes. My alcoholic father abandoned us when I was 11.
New Mexico is known as the Land of Enchantment. Given the Native American and Spanish cultures and my own eccentric family, growing up, I heard spell-binding tales about magic and witches.
I am a former Software Engineer / Web Developer and have a degree in Applied Mathematics. Given my nerdiness, I also, write Science Fiction under the name B. AUSTIN.
I write other fiction under the name BELINDA AUSTIN.
Amazon links for my books are listed on the next page of this ebook, OR you can check out my books at my website at the links below:
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If you want to know more about me, I have written some Memoirs.
Thank you for your interest.
B. Austin
Other Books by Belinda
Belinda’s MEMOIRS of a Bigamist’s Daughter
The Bigamist, My Father
House of Sticks
THRILLER Psychological
Obsession
SUSPENSE 9/11 Terrorist Attacks
I Will Always Love You
Award-Winning Historical Fiction
Return of the Bones, Inspired by a true Story
Book Trailer
Humorous Chick Lit / Romantic Comedy
Single and Looking: Daisy
Book Trailer
Middle Grade Fiction
Alicia's Misadventures in Computer Land
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