Juno spent the whole rest of the day scrutinizing every witch she met on the street. She even told a couple that she’d made her dad’s mug fly out the window. The first one, who looked Juno right in the eye as they spoke, said what a smart thing that was and how very much she’d like to be as smart and pretty as Juno. The second one was Juno’s classmate Esther. Her costume’s hooked nose came with bushy eyebrows that hung halfway over her chubby cheeks and that she could barely squint past. Esther’s vision thus obscured, Juno was surprised to hear that making mugs fly was nothing and that Esther had earlier turned her house into a giant toad. Juno’s group had just done Esther’s street, and the only slimy thing about the house had been Esther’s sophomore brother passing out the treats. But somehow Juno would’ve known anyway that she was the only real witch around.
All in all that day was more of an education for Juno than her whole first term at school. She’d learned not only that she could do Magic, sort of (which she’d confirmed by giving Esther a croaky voice when trying to turn her into a toad for telling lies), but also that she could tell, for sure, whether somebody else had Magic in them or not.
For grandma and pop that particular Halloween was less enlightening. ‘Oh, quit rummaging and use another mug, Bernard,’ said grandma just before she turned in. ‘She’ll tell us soon enough where she’s hidden it. She’ll be tired being a witch tomorrow.’