A Spell for Sara Kassie Shanafelt
First published by Cold Creek Review
Sara was undoubtedly a witch . I don ’ t even think she knew she was a witch , but I knew . We met in biology lab my sophomore year of college . Both of us were the perpetually early type , both of us were constantly nose deep in a book , and both of us were draped in too many layers for fall in Texas . Naturally , we were fast friends .
When we finally started talking , Sara told me she was an English major . She was just taking biology for fun . The words , “ People do that ?” instinctively slipped out of my mouth before I could even think to say them . “ Do what ?” “ Take classes for fun ?” “ Isn ’ t college supposed to be for learning ?” Our lab teacher was a three hundred pound red head who spat when she spoke . She explained that our first assignment would be to dissect a worm , then a frog , a rat , a shark , and a cat . Then she brought out the worms .
It was the slimy texture that did it for me , and I knew from that moment I would not be able to cut open a single creature during the class . “ That ’ s ok , I ’ ll do it . How about you just record it on your phone so we can study the video later ?”
Dumbfounded , I nodded . You would have thought the lab teacher asked us to feed the worms to children by the way I reacted . Sara just pushed the sleeves of her cable knit sweater up to her elbows like she was about use her hands to knead bread . Instead , she used them to slit open the worm and reveal its tiny parts . For the next hour we poured over the creature trying to guess the names of the pieces that had formerly kept it alive . Finally , our lab teacher came around and pointed at all of the appropriate parts with a pin . When she dismissed the class I found myself asking , “ What happens to the worms now that we are done ?”
“ They get thrown out ,” she said as she started clearing up the lab tables in the front of the room .
Believe me , I ’ m not an advocate for worms . Everything about the creatures disgust me , but I was devastated by the news . I packed up my things in the haze of my own distressing thoughts . Sara chased me down the hallway and opened the palm of her hand . There were spots of gold inside her green eyes that glimmered like flecks of hope . She had stolen our worm .
We decided to bury him in the yard in front of my dorm . The gothic kids who were outside smoking wandered over to see what we were doing and accidentally found themselves attending a funeral for a mutilated worm . Sara made everyone hold hands in a circle around the grave . Over and over again she whispered , “ Best wishes as you make this transition into new life .” Soon , the entire group was muttering the phrase .
Eventually the circle broke . Sara left me with a hug , a knowing smile , and said , “ I ’ ll see you next week in class .”