Tombstone Turmoil

Alabaster you say? Or is it a tombstone slab of lime? I know my sister has decided to irritate me during this field trip. Where did it originate? Did anyone see the vandals? I have no words; knowing my sister has transmogrified. No one can shapeshift harder or faster than Cara. Now the trick is to get rid of the audience before I cast my spell. They would stop letting me teach school if they knew I was a Wiccan. Hear sister giggling, knowing she has put me in a precarious situation. “How are you going to get it out of the tree roots?” PTA member asks. “I have my ways, but it has to be done without an audience, “I say. They begin to mutter. I can hear them say “crazy,” and it irritates me. I cast a fast spell and Cara turns into a teensy toadstool. “Where is it?” Someone asks. The others are awed. I pretend I do not know where the tombstone is either. A toddler points at me. Her mother kisses her fingers. Catastrophe averted.