What My Mother Told Me

Step one: You will need to catch a toad.

Make certain that it is not a frog. Frogs are good for many things, but for this, useless. For toads, look in low, damp places and listen. Go at night with a flashlight. Take a net or use your hands.

You must keep only one. It should have a quality that reminds you of your lover. This sounds fantastic but it is very serious and it is the first task. So look in its eyes. Examine its belly. Consider the way it hops, although you should do this carefully, in an enclosed space so your toad does not escape. Listen to its voice. Choose carefully. You can do this only once.

Step two: Make the candle.

You will need beeswax. You can buy or steal it, but tallow or paraffin will not do.

The wick is harder. You will need undyed cotton thread and three perfect hairs from your own head. You will need blood to dye the thread. Let it dry, then wash it. Do this until the thread turns so dark a brown that it is nearly black, then braid it together with your hair.

The length of your hair will determine the length of the wick. It should make little difference for small hurts, but for deep pain and lovesickness, longer hair is better. I once knew a woman who grew her hair for three years before she caught a toad.

Heat the wax until it runs clear. Dip the wick in it and let the wax harden on the string. Do this until the candle is the thickness of your smallest finger, then set it aside.

Step three: Kill the toad.

I cannot tell you how. But when you are done, you must cut out its heart.

Step four: Wash the heart in milk.

Step five: Light the candle and, holding the toad’s heart between the thumb and first finger of your strongest hand, roast it over the flame.

You will burn your fingers. They will redden, then blister. If you pull them out of the flame to suck on them, you will waste the candle; better to steel yourself and do it all at once. The woman who grew her hair for three years gave up when clear liquid began to weep from her fingers. She never recovered.

Roast the heart until it is a hard stone. When it is done, drop it into a bowl of salt and roll it until the white covers the black.

Step six: Eat the heart. Chew it thoroughly. The salt will burn your mouth and the heart will taste of soot and char and beeswax. Think of your own heart, and think of your lover.

If you do as I tell you, it will be a day – no more – before you will begin to feel your heart slow. It will grow heavy in your chest and lay like a dead thing, burned and wasted. You will continue to walk and work as other women, but you will be different. You will be free.