Before the Clock Strikes Twelve [Book I of the Anti-Tales]

Chapter 5: Mama Hoolie

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HACKNEY Marsh was a large expanse of open woodlands and swamps. Bog marshes that sunk into the ground in sporadic patterns throughout the woods. Natures trap to unwelcome visitors. Settlements rarely sprung up in such a place anymore, as the tender ground always threatened to swallow up residencies without bias, especially in recent times. Except Mama Hoolie's house. The witch doctor lived in the hollow of an ancient oak tree at the heart of the marshlands. Her house was weaved and rolled into the fibre of the aged tree. It was a humble abode, with enough room inside for a sleeping arrangement and her brews.

Lynx stood before the tree. It's gnarled limbs twisted and wound upwards, reaching for the heavens in an ascension that almost transcended time. Leaves as large as her head, a multitude of jade and sea bottle greens, allowed sunlight to dapple through the thick canopy, patterning the ground below in a moving sea of green-gold daytime stars. She had to walk, climb, swing and duck beneath roots as thick as her body and twice her size, set deep into the earth, they anchored this almost prehistoric survivor as the heart of the marsh. The only long-lasting resident to defy the odds of the marshlands and survive its murky depths.

Lynx reached the main body of the trunk and rapped her knuckles on the round wooden door of the hollow entrance. It creaked open by itself on rusty hinges, revealing a gaping hole in the side of the tree. She stepped into the darkness without hesitation, to be enveloped with the scent of lavender and exotic spices. Mama Hoolie was cooking.

"Ooh, is that you girl?" Her joyful voice boomed through the darkness and filled the room, just as light flickered on from the wall-mounted lamps. "Lynxie, Lynxie, come in my dear! You haven't visited Mama Hoolie in a while!"

A round, short woman popped into view. Juggling a copious amount of jars in her skinny arms decorated lavishly with glass bangles, her brown and weather beaten face beamed up at Lynx. Lines well aged and set deep into her face only hinted at her lifespan. A touchy topic mind you.

"Mama Hoolie." Lynx smiled, immediately going to help lighten her load. "Good to see you."

The second they embraced, the woman's limbs locked into place around her. They became rigid and brittle, entombing her to the woman. Her breaths came out in clouds of white, cold mist. The temperature had dropped to suddenly icy.

It lasted for no longer then a minute, but felt like a lifetime to Lynx. When the old woman snapped back to life and her arms dropped to her sides, she swayed slightly and reached for her cane.

Her eyes widened in what looked like bone chilling fear as she stumbled a step back. Lynx registered the panic and it prompted her to ask, "what? What is it? Wh...why are you looking at me like that?" Her eyes slid to her left, following the woman's gaze. She felt the cold.