 ~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ It be like that sometimes.
15. Hurling Hex
“Rachel, DON’T!”
But it was too late. Six year old Rachel, hair in pigtails had already climbed onto the broomstick. She just wanted to hover a bit because she knew her mommy and daddy would not approve for her flying about in the Greenhouse..
Rachel’s giggle was cut short when the jerk from the broomstick sent her flying. She gasped and screamed though luckily for her, she landed in a bed of mundane roses.
“Are you hurt?’’ Mae Watson’s curious face lingered about. “I told Phil that broomstick was no good and not to leave it lying around. That Hurling Hex just can’t seem to be removed…’’
Rachel giggled. “Mommy, I’m alright. The roses saved me.’’
“I can see that, darling. Come on. Up you get,’’
The girl took her mother’s extended hand. “Thank you.’’
“You smell lovely.’’
“Exactly like roses!’’
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