Lucy
Potter and the Flickering Flame
The
Lucy Potter Septet Book Seven
by
Daniel
Thomas Andrew Daly
Copyright
6177 SC (Adjusted HNF Calendar)
Some
times in life, thought Lucy Potter to herself. Some times in life,
when you think, finally, after all is said and done, and you have had
every last one of your adventures, and you have settled down, and
worked it all out, and everything is running smoothly, and life is,
really, beautiful – the dream ends. And for this Autumn in
Cooma and Chakola and, in particular, Bunyan, when a more regular
life of Lucy Potter had finally returned, a flickering flame did
indeed end, and life turned one more corner for the life of the
daughter of David Potter.
'Jenny
Rosalina Potter. Whatever in heaven and earth am I ever going to do
with a child like you?'
The
question appeared quite lost on the face of the mischievous 10 year
old bearing that particular moniker, because as she stamped out the 3
cigarettes she had lit beneath her feet, not 1 or 2 mind you, but the
3 she had been smoking, she just smiled that 'Whatever' smile Lucy
Potter had gotten to know oh too well. The cheek of Enrique, through
and through, she thought to herself.
'Go
on. Get, child. Go play in the back yard.'
Jenny
scrammed, and Lucy stared down at the mess on the carpet. The
cigarettes had burned a little of the carpets and Lucy, almost
instinctively was about to go for her wand, but rebuked herself.
Bewitched had gotten to her. Darren, Samantha's doting dullard, had
gotten to her. She would call the carpet man in the morning.
She
took the cigarettes, and looked at them for a moment. She'd quit
recently for the sake of Jenny, but she still had dozens of packs all
over the house. 'Fuck it,' she swore to herself, sat down, and picked
out a lighter from the glass holder on the table, and lit one of the
unsmoked cigarettes. 'Jesus, that tastes good,' she said to herself,
as she took in the smoke into her lungs and relaxed. Tension left
her. And suddenly she felt a bit amorous. Was Daniel back from
Sydney? Perhaps she could ring him? She rebuked herself for the
second time that evening.
She
looked out the back window. Jenny and the neighbours kid, Josh, were
playing madly chasing each other around the back yard, their new dog
Rex barking madly all the time. Josh Cavanagh was 9 years old, just a
little younger than Lucy, but his bigger build compensated quite
adequately. Jenny never stopped talking about Josh – for a 10
year old she was practically smitten. But that was life, wasn't it.
It moved on. Chose its romances, even from a young age, and heaven
itself couldn't prevent what the common sense of mother nature
insisted on in the end. They were the facts of life after all. She
smoked her cigarette, and rebuked herself for the 3rd time that
evening, as she smoked the other two and decided not to give the
slightest damn anyway. She had earned it. Well, she liked to tell
herself that anyway.
And
God they tasted good.
*
* * * *
'Heaven's
above, Lucy Potter. If I wanted you to help I would have
asked.'
Shelandragh
stood there, in the front of Minoxxia, staring at her pupil. Lucy had
innocently opened the back of the car to bring in the new electric
heater, but Shelandragh seemed stubbornly to think she should be
doing it herself.
'I
was only trying to help, Shellie.'
Shelandragh
softened, and looked at Lucy. 'It's my age, Lucy. I'm starting to
feel it. Of course, bring in the heater.'
Lucy
picked up the box and closed the car, wandering inside after
Shelandragh. She found her in the front living room, seated on the
couch, panting heavily. She had been doing that all
day.
'Shelandragh.
Are you having issues with your health?'
'Leave
me alone, Lucy,' said Shelandragh softly. But Shelandragh looked
weakly up at Lucy. She looked at her, and her eyes said it all.
'I'll
plug in the heater,' said Lucy.
When
Lucy had brought in tea and bikkies into the lounge, and decided to
get the fireplace going anyway, despite it only being early autumn,
Shelandragh was curled up in a woolen blanket, even shivvering a
little, and whose gaze seemed to be off in the distance. In a distant
world.
Lucy
served her the tea and sat down opposite, drinking her own.
She
looked at her teacher. There she was – was she a thousand years
old now? Something like that, wasn't it? She had been around forever,
and now, feeling something of an age also, Lucy realized she had also
been around for a fair bit of that life also. They'd had so many
adventures together. Fought so much of the dark side, and come out
victorious. In a way, they were heroes. Witches, yes – but
heroes to. And Lucy felt some pride, occasionally, at the things she
had accomplished and the things she had done in her craft. She hadn't
been an incompetent ninny, and had shown her worth as a witch and a
Potter. Something to be proud of.
Shelandragh
had dozed off, and Lucy sat there looking at her. The lines in her
face were weathered – well weathered. She was an old maiden –
supposedly – who had served this world and this community for
so long now that time, it seemed, was finally catching up on her.
Time was finally catching up on Shelandragh May. She was a good old
soul, was Shelandragh. Lucy's very best friend in the world, and she
would be lost without her. But, looking at her, still shivering,
still wrapped carefully in the woolen blanket, perhaps now, at the
end of all her adventures, perhaps now she should start preparing to
face something Shelandragh had been hinting at for a while now. The
end of the road.
'Where
is that tea?' asked Shelandragh suddenly, and blundered out a hand,
knocking the tea cup over. 'Oh, bugger,' she said.
'Don't
worry about that,' said Lucy. 'I will get you another one.'
'Oh,
don't bother,' said Shelandragh. She smiled at Lucy. 'It's not the
end of the world Lucy Potter.'
'No.
Your highness,' she said, slightly mockingly. 'It's not.' And did a
face.
Shelandragh
humphed, and sat there. 'You know, Lucy Potter. I'm feeling it. In my
bones. In my waters.'
Lucy
Said nothing. She didn't really want to comment on what Shelandragh
was going to say, because she knew anyway.
'But
with an old soul as mine is, in the many long years of life I have
travelled down,' continued Shelandragh. 'If not now, I never will
be,' she finished.
Lucy
looked at her for a while. 'Never will be what?' There. She said it.
Deliberately. To draw the answer.
Shelandragh
just stared at her, and tilted her head.
'Let
me get you that other cup of tea,' said Lucy, and took the tea and
walked out to the kitchen. But she sat down, by the glass sliding
doors on the old seat which had sat there forever, and sighed. And
then started crying softly. She was losing her best friend –
and she knew it.
A
little later, after she had calmed down, she came back in with a hot
chocolate and a packet of the hidden Tim Tams, but Shelandragh had
fallen asleep and was snoring softly, which was quite rare for her.
Lucy sat down and looked at her mentor. All sorts of feelings and
thoughts came over her. Thoughts of how much she wanted to say 'Thank
you' for all the years together, all the times together, all the love
together. She so desperately, right at that moment, wanted to go into
the wells of her own spirit, in true wiccan manner, and bring forth
her own life spirit – her own life force – and feed that
into the life of Shelandragh May. But she couldn't. Because she was
only animistic. And that type of power didn't come with what she had
been made. She was not a real witch in the end, anyway. She was,
well, a faerie. Or an Angel. God, was she ever fooling herself, but
she wasn't a witch. She'd finally gotten used to that truth. She was
an animist, and that even made her holy in some people's book, like
Daniel's. He said she was a precious angel of God, or some other lost
daughter. And then he would say 'Or some other FOUND daughter', and
smile at her. And she would smile back and say 'Yes. Found.' But
Shelandragh was a witch. And she had been her teacher, and her
mentor. And her best friend. For so very long now, her very best
friend. But a flame was flickering in Bunyan, in the heart of the
Monaro, and Lucy Potter knew that flickering flame didn't have much
time left. And she would have to accept that come what may.
*
* * * *
'You
know, Lucy,' began Daniel.
'Here
we go,' sighed Lucy Potter.
'They've
been doing studies,' continued Daniel.
Lucy
looked out over the breakfast kitchen table in Daniel's Cooma North
house and smiled at her husband. 'You're an idiot,' she said, and
took some more bacon.
'No
seriously,' he said, between his fried egg and orange juice. 'They've
been doing studies. Men with hazel eyes and brown hair, in all the
studies on intelligence and charisma, come across as the most desired
attributes that a woman looks for. That and a big penis as
well.'
Lucy
almost burst out laughing on the last statement, but kept herself in
check. 'And what magazine, exactly, Daniel, proclaims these WISE
truths?'
'Watch
that sarcastic tongue of yours, Miss Lucy Potter,' said Daniel,
pointing his fork full of bacon at her. 'Now, the magazine in
question, whose origin I vaguely remember from my distant youth, is
Cosmopolitan. Or, otherwise affectionately known as, Cosmo. They have
been famous for a sealed section, which divulges all the secrets on
sexuality, for centuries now. Usually an excuse for women to perve on
men's schlongs, if you ask me.'
Lucy
chuckled. That much she agreed with.
'Now,
the reason that these attributes are voted the most popular is based
on long tradition that such men are usually the most responsible,
loving and caring in society.'
'Hazel
eyes?' she remarked, softly.
'Yes.
Yes indeed,' he responded. 'Apparently, if the eyes are hazel, it is
taken that great intelligence and a sophisticated manner is most
likely. And of course every woman wants a tall dark and handsome when
it all comes down to it. Don't they.'
'The
thing is,' said Lucy Potter. 'I can't really figure the big penis
remark. Surely the present company does not make such a bold
proclamation as to fulfil that virtue.'
'Go
to hell,' he said in response, and flicked some bacon at her.
'Peter
pecker is more like it,' she said, sniggering.
'My
9 inches of man meat will satisfy you tonight like never before with
that tongue Miss Lucy Potter.'
She
screeeched. '9 inches. Keep on dreaming Daniel Daly. 6 on a good
day.'
'Ok.
6. And I've measured,' he responded.
'That's
more like it,' she replied.
'Apparently
its a meaty one,' said Daniel softly.
'What
was that?' asked Lucy, eye cocked.
'A
working girl once told me. Mine is quite thick.'
'Well
that working girl should learn to keep her mouth shut,' scolded
Lucy.
Daniel
grinned and continued eating his bacon.
'You
know, Dan. There is something I wanted to say. It's about
Shelandragh. You know, she is not going to live forever, and...' but
she trailed off, as his attention was suddenly on the TV, about some
news in Canberra, so she stopped, and kept the thought to herself.
Obviously not the time to express her concerns. Not yet.
*
* * * *
'Her
name is Mushroom,' said Lucy animatedly.
Shelandragh
just stared at the cat, nonplussed.
'Which
Mushroom number again?' asked Daniel.
Lucy
looked at Daniel and then at Shelandragh quizzically.
'Mushroom
the sixteenth,' responded Shelandragh, still somewhat disinterested.
But the kitten, or the cat, as it was in its last vestiges of
kittenhood, jumped up to the couch, scrawled onto Shelandragh May's
lap, and dutifully snuggled down and went to sleep.
Shelandragh
looked down at the cat and then up at Lucy and Daniel. There were
soft tears in her eyes.
'A
witch is not a witch without a pussy,' said Daniel. 'Even if it is a
tortoiseshell.'
'Every
Mushroom has been a tortoiseshell,' responded Shelandragh. 'She took
over from a long run of Merlin's from memory. He was a black one in
more ways than one.'
'Then
everything is perfect,' said Daniel, who wandered off to the kitchen
to find some beverage or something, leaving Lucy and Shelandragh to
chat.
Lucy
sat opposite, looking at Shelandragh, who was absentmindedly stroking
the snoozing mushroom, her gaze lost in some distant
world.
'Shelandragh
May. It very much occurs to me that for very many years now we have
not had much of a celebration of things. We haven't celebrated a
decent Christmas Party since God knows when,' but Christmas is past
now, so I have decided for something different. We will celebrate
your birthday party. It is that alright with Madam?'
Shelandragh
didn't answer. She just looked off in the distance, lost in her own
world.
'Shelandragh?'
said Lucy softly.
Shelandragh
turned to her. 'You know, Lucy. I sense animism, like you do. And I
sense places, and their spirit, and the comfort of that spirit. And I
think, at the moment, I would like to go up to the Little Theatre in
Cooma East this Friday night to see them do scenes from Macbeth. But
I don't really want to go to the play. Just an excuse to be there. I
want to sit outside, and have a little wander around the grasslands
there.'
'Why?'
asked Lucy confused.
'Heaven's
above, Lucy Potter. Because I find peace there,' said Shelandragh May
agitatedly. 'And at my age I am in need of some peace.'
Lucy
softened. 'Alright. I'll buy 3 tickets. Daniel and I will watch the
show and come out afterwards.'
Shelandragh
nodded, and picked up a tissue and wiped away a tear which had
formed.
'Are
you ok, Shelandragh?' asked Lucy.
'Oh,
yes. Oh, fiddlesticks. No. Not really.'
'What
is it?' asked Lucy, concerned.
'Just
memories, Lucy Potter. Nothing for you to worry your head about. Just
an old witch's memories,' and then Shelandragh had that look in her
eyes again, gazing off into another world, and Lucy decided not to
bother her, but to sit in silence. What could she really say
anyway.
The
afternoon passed, and Shelandragh was snoozing when Daniel came back
in, Lucy just sitting quietly, watching her teacher. She just wanted
that, at the moment. Just to watch her. To be in her presence. A
voice had been speaking to Lucy Potter, and it was a deep voice of
her faith, of her Noahide faith. It told her to value this time, and
be careful to value each moment, now, with her beloved teacher. And
it said to her heart that she knew why as well. And Lucy did know
why.
She
watched Shelandragh, as she snored lightly, and her eyes flickered in
the dreamscape, and memories came into the life of Lucy Potter.
Memories of Chakola from years ago, when she would spend all morning
walking to Shelandragh's to learn a lesson, and then all evening
walking home. Memories, also, of the children playing in the back
yard, and of Madalene's sensibilities, and Jayden's cheek and
Georgia's humility. And Goldie and Silver, and the farm and
everything. And, through it all, the steadying voice of the wisdom of
Shelandragh May, who had replaced her mother when Caroline had
passed, and had been just that; that steadying voice, that steadying
influence in the life of Lucy Potter, that guided her and guarded
her, and kept her safe from the darkness of the world, a darkness
sometimes all to prevalent. How on earth would she ever cope without
Shelandragh May?
'You
hadn't said,' said Daniel suddenly.
'What?'
asked Lucy.
'I'm
not that thick,' replied Daniel. 'Despite my facade I work every day
diligently to maintain, I am as sensitive as the next person inside,
Lucy. Her time. She's not long for this world.'
Lucy
turned to him, and nodded softly. 'She wants to see a play. Up at the
little theatre this weekend. But she doesn't want to see the play,
but just be outside, around the theatre, in the grasslands.'
'I
roamed around there as a kid,' said Daniel. 'Of course, I grew up in
6 Bradley street. Spent the 1980s there with my family. But I was in
my teens and wandered all over Cooma.'
'She
wants to feel the spirit of the place,' said Lucy.
Daniel
nodded. 'Yes. Like parts of Cooma North. Those fibro buildings have
been there forever, and they sort of carry a spirit also. It's
something about this place. Apparently, Cooma means meeting place.
Like Canberra, a conflux of converging spiritual realities.'
Lucy
smiled to herself. That much, with her sensitivity, she knew to be
true also. She sensed it in her house near the Pool, the spiritual
reality. And then you went to another area of Cooma, and someone else
wanted attention. She was sure it was old spiritual dominions. Old
spirits, who had claimed what they claimed, and resolved to make
boundaries at a meeting place. Or maybe that was just fantasy. Who
knew for sure.
'We'll
take her to the play,' said Daniel.
Lucy
sat there, watching Shelandragh, again snoring lightly. She would be
extra sensitive, now. She knew she had to be. And she knew she wanted
to be.
She
watched her, all that evening, snoozing away. And suddenly, she felt
it herself. Around this company. Old. Even lonely, despite the
company.
'Hold
me, Daniel,' she said suddenly.
Daniel
held her, and Lucy watched Shelandragh. She watched her snore, and
valued every second. She valued every single second.
*
* * * *
It
was Friday Night. 'Time to party,' said Daniel.
'Very
funny,' responded Lucy. They were at Daniel's place in Cooma north,
and had dressed up a bit for the play.
'You
look hot, babe,' said Daniel.
'Not
too bad yourself,' responded Lucy, looking over Daniel. It wasn't
exactly a suit and tie, but he had formal pants on, which he rarely
wore, a nice red shirt and leather tie, with black shoes. Apparently
a traditional Daniel design, so he had told her.
They
came into the main living room are, and Shelandragh came out. She was
dressed in an old dress of hers, and a large weather rain coat over
the top, even though there was no hint of rain that evening.
'So,
when we get there, we will go inside, and I will leave you with the
keys and the car,' said Daniel.
Shelandragh
nodded.
'Ok
then. Off we go.'
The
drive was very short, and perhaps not even that necessary, as they
could very well have walked the distance, but drive they did to the
Cooma little theatre, and when they got there, as said, Daniel and
Lucy got out, took there tickets with them, and came around to look
at Shelandragh.
'Here's
the keys,' said Daniel, handing her the keys. 'If you must drive off,
ok. We can walk home. If you must.'
Shelandragh
didn's say anything. She had been quiet all evening.
'Well,
off we go then,' said Daniel, and Lucy followed him up the theatre,
and as they went inside, Shelandragh looked at them departing for a
moment, and then got out, got in the front seat, and put the heater
on, winding the window open.
And
then she just sat there.
About
2 hours later scenes from Macbeth and other Shakespearean plays had
ended, and Daniel and Lucy had been chatting with some fellow Cooma
Northerners they knew, when they came out, found the SVU, the keys in
the ignition, the window wound down, but Shelandragh nowhere to be
seen.
'Should
we wait? Or go looking?' asked Daniel.
Lucy
looked at him. 'Perhaps a soft woman's touch.'
He
smiled. 'I'll wait here.'
Lucy
nodded.
She
didn't have to go far, and found her just down the hill a little,
sitting on a concrete base of long abandoned snowy housings. She was
sitting there, on the edge, quietly, just looking out towards the
west, into the starry cooma night.
'Shelandragh!'
dared Lucy.
Shelandragh
didn't speak.
Lucy
came around in front of her, and sat down at an angle so as not to
interfere with her view.
She
sat there for a few minutes, just waiting. Just waiting. Eventually
Shelandragh spoke.
'You
know, Lucy Potter. You are a very good student. You always pay
attention, even though you slacken off some times and behave very
badly,' but she said very badly with a smile on her face.
'You
are my best friend. In all the world Lucy Potter. So I will tell you
a story. A story of love.'
Lucy
shivered a little in the cold, as the evening had gotten along a
little, but she didn't mind. She would listen to Shelandragh's
story.
'When
I first left the old world, and Came to Australia, like you, it took
me a while to settle. But I met Alfric from the Ministry of Magic,
and we went on trips, funnily enough, down to the snow and abouts
this region. And I found Cooma and instantly fell in love with her,
but coming back to Canberra one evening I noticed Bunyan, and knew I
had found my home eternal. It was perfect. In those years, when
Bunyan and Cooma were still youngish, I met someone in town. Keith.
Keith Holloway. And I told Keith what I was, and he said he would be
a warlock for me if he had to be, because we fell in love.'
Lucy
smiled. She hadn't heard this story.
'But
Keith wasn't a warlock, and we came up here one evening. And we sat
about here, chatting away. And he spoke to me, and he told me he had
cancer, and that his time wasn't long for this world. And I
protested, and said I could heal him, but do you know what he said?
Do you know what he said Lucy Potter?'
She
shook her head.
'Some
things are meant to be, Lucy Potter. Some things are just meant to
be.'
Lucy
nodded. That much was true to her also.
Shelandragh
looked, then, right at Lucy Potter. Right into the eyes and heart of
Lucy Potter. 'So soon, Lucy Potter. When the lights dim, and flicker
and, finally, go out. Remember that. Some things are just meant to
be.'
Lucy
wanted to scowl at her, but refrained. She moved over, and sat next
to Shelandragh, and took her hand. 'God knows, I love you Shelandragh
May. You are my best friend in all the world. So I won't fight it.
I'll let it be. And, as you say, some things are just meant to
be.'
Shelandragh
held that hand, and suddenly gripped it very tightly, and said 'Thank
you Lucy Potter. Thank you.'
And
they sat there in silence, and shortly it started raining lightly,
and Daniel came and found them, and insulted them as stupid women for
being out in the rain, and Lucy knew then that everything was right
in the world.
*
* * * *
'More
ice cream,' said Decadence.
'Jane.
You are atrocious,' said Daniel. 'Do you know how many years I
struggled with my weight because of that fowl concoction,' responded
Daniel Daly.
'More,
buster,' swore Decadence at him.
Daniel
went to the fridge, returned with the 'Quadruple Choc Super Elite
Fudge Ripple' Ice Cream, produced by a local company, and handed the
entire tub to her. 'Go crazy he said.' Jane just took off the lid and
hooked in.
Daniel
stared at her for a while, and then shook his head disapprovingly and
went off to the lounge room, sitting down next to Jenny who was
playing on his ancient Sega Megadrive system.
'What
the hell is Sonic?' Jenny asked him, as she motored the avatar of
Sonic the Hedgehog around the screen. Daniel had simply introduced
the game to her as the classic 'Sonic' and started it up, leaving it
with her.
'He's
a hedgehog. And Tails is a fox,' responded Daniel.
'Right,'
said Jenny. 'You know, though. It's kinda basic. I mean, how old is
it? This should be like for 3 year olds.'
'It
was something of a challenge for adults when they first released it,'
replied Daniel, affronted somewhat.
'Yeh,
knowing you it would be,' responded Jenny Potter cheekily.
'Why
Miss Potter. You do have an attitude don't you,' said Daniel.
'Bite
me,' responded Jenny, as she finished level 2 Act 1.
'Kids
today,' said Daniel, shaking his head, as he watched the girl
progress on his ancient game.
'Do
you kids still have X-Boxes and Playstations and things like that?'
asked Daniel, who was not up to date with the latest games
consoles.
'What's
an X-Box?' asked Jenny.
'I
am getting too old,' replied Daniel, shaking his head.
Lucy
came in the room. 'Be careful Jenny,' sniggered Lucy. 'That old junk
will be sure to give you a zap. It's ancient.'
Jenny
laughed and shouted. 'Daniel is older than Merlin. What do you
expect.'
Lucy
smiled and looked at Daniel. He didn't look that impressed.
'Well
I'm still old enough to kick your ass at Sonic, Jenny Potter.'
'When
I'm finished, I'll let you play, and we'll see then,' said Jenny. But
the way she was going, despite the end levels being a little tougher,
Daniel wasn't that confident that she wouldn't finish the thing first
go, especially the way she was easily going around earning the extra
lives by collecting the rings.
Decadence
– Jane Smith – came in the room, chocolate still smudged
over her mouth.
'Had
your fill?' asked Daniel.
'I
left you some,' she replied. 'A little bit, anyway.'
'Thanks,'
he said sarcastically.
Decadence
sat down next to Daniel, and Lucy had sat down next to Jenny, and
they were watching Jenny champion herself around the next level.
Decadence put on her earphones after a while, and disappeared into
ipod territory, while Daniel sat happily enough watching Jenny the
master solve at first go that which had taken him a while to work
out.
'She's
talented,' said Daniel to Lucy.
Lucy
said nothing.
'Must
be your genes,' Daniel said again.
Lucy
finally spoke what was on her mind. 'Daniel. You do know. Don't
you.'
Daniel
watched the screen for a moment, and then turned to Lucy. Lucy was
looking serious. 'Shelandragh,' he said softly. Lucy nodded. 'What
did she say? Last night?' he asked her.
'That
when it was her time, then it really should just happen. That these
things are meant to be, you know.'
'Yes.
I think I see where she is coming from.'
'So,
you know. She really doesn't want a fuss. I think we both know there
is a complication, likely, of some kind. And she won't disclose it.
And will just let it be. But perhaps she has chosen her time, a good
time to go, and that time is now.'
'Like
she said,' replied Daniel. 'It's meant to be.'
Lucy
nodded soberly. 'So, right at this time, can we do a few things. A
few special things. With Shelandragh. Just over the next few days and
weeks. And if you can excuse yourself from all your other things for
a while, while, you know.'
'We
say goodbye,' he said softly.
Lucy
touched his shoulder. 'She's my best friend in all the world Daniel.
I know I married you, but she has been part of my life since the
very, very beginning. I will be lost without her.'
'We'll
make this special.'
'She
doesn't want to be buried at Minoxxia. She owns a plot. In Cooma
cemetery. She has asked that she be given a Catholic funeral service
because, ironically, all those years ago in England it was a Catholic
nation, and she had been baptized as a child.'
Daniel
smiled. 'Me too, you know.'
Lucy
looked at him, strangely. 'You're a Noahide,' she said.
'With
Catholic parents. I was baptized all right. You do remember, don't
you. Madalene. All the kids. Brigid and I – the whole family –
we were brought up Catholics.'
'Mmm,'
said Lucy. 'When did you become a Noahide. I'm sure you've told me
before, but I forget.'
'99,'
he replied. '1999. January. A long time ago. I was a Pentecostal
before that for a few years, and raised Catholic. I'd even been
agnostic for a while. But a Noahide since then, and forever
onwards.'
'Well,
ok. So, as I said,' continued Lucy. 'She has a funeral plot. We can
add a headstone if we wish and, she said this quite straightly, that
large angels and even a statue of Jesus or Mary wouldn't be out of
the question. Right down inside, she told me, that was the ancient
faith of her heart. She was born in it and wants to die in it.'
'I
understand,' said Daniel.
'So
its a special time,' said Lucy, but Daniel was trying to snatch the
joystick from Jenny, who had used up her last life, and was only on
level 2.
'Pathetic,
Jenny. Level 2 act 2. My old man could do better than that.'
'Shut
up,' said Jenny. 'It doesn't work properly.'
'Everyone
says that,' said Daniel. 'And old excuse.'
Daniel
started a new game, but momentarily turned to Lucy. 'A special time,'
he said softly. 'We'll make sure of it.'
Lucy
again touched his shoulder.
And
then Daniel was off again on an epic struggle, and Jenny watched all
that morning as he made it all the way to the end, defeated Robotnik,
and gloated about it all afternoon.
*
* * * *
Daniel
woke up, Sunday morning, bleary eyed. He looked up, and noticed his
wife was at the dressing table, in a formal skirt and blouse she
never wore.
'What's
up?' he asked her.
'Church.
We are going to church,' she replied.
'Oh,
yeh. It's Sunday.' And then he came to himself. 'Lucy Potter. I have
not been to church since............since...........for heaven's
sake. Since Adam was a lad, ok.'
She
smiled at that one.
'Well
things change, so get dressed, neatly, and we are going off to
Bunyan. Shelandragh is expecting us at 9:30, in time for the 10:00 am
service.
'Which
church,' he asked, as he got to his feet.
'Don't
be an idiot,' she said. 'Which do you think.'
When
they had picked up Shelandragh, and were coming up the steps of St
Patricks Church in Cooma, Daniel spoke to Shelandragh.
'I
was you know.'
Shelandragh
looked at him quizzically.
'You
were what?' she asked.
'An
altar boy. This church. Same bloody church. Same stones. They don't
even look weathered. That statue there,' he said pointing.
'Unchanged. Been there forever. I probably even have my first
communion surviving photos of my near it.'
Shelandragh
smiled. 'I've been here once or twice. Quiet times. Crisis times. To
pray. Once when Lucy was unwell.'
'Well,
thank you for that,' said Lucy. 'Now lets go inside.'
The
girls went in, and Daniel looked at the water troughs to dip the hand
in and make the sign of the cross. He had dipped his hands many times
in those troughs all those years ago, and made the sign of the cross.
He thought about it and, though he hadn't been very fundamental on
Noahide faith for many years now, a voice said to him, 'Better not
Daniel. Don't cause confusion.' So he looked at the troughs, and
passed by.
Shelandragh
and Lucy were in the very back row, on the right side of the
building, and Daniel came and sat next to them. It was about quarter
to ten, and while there were a few parishoners, he vaguely recalled
they usually didn't show until about the time. He was wrong. What
they had come into was it. About 4 or 5 other parishoners apart from
themselves.
When
the priest went up the aisle, without any altar boy, he noted them,
but continued on. And the mass was said, and they just sat there
without the bowing and kneeling and standing, and Shelandragh didn't
feel like taking communion. Didn't want to be a hypocrite she said to
them both.
But
the priest came out in the church after the service, and sat down to
speak with them.
'I'm
Father McCoy. Nice to see you in church, Shelandragh
May.'
Shelandragh
smiled an awkward smile. 'I didn't know you knew me.'
The
priest smiled at her. 'Catholic faith is an old faith, Shelandragh
May. And it is a faith which has the habit of keeping records.
Ancient records. We know how old you are. And that the community,
perhaps through your ways, doesn't, really. But we know.'
'Oh,'
she said.
'You
are a Catholic, aren't you. All those years ago. When you were young.
Back in the old world.'
'How
could you possibly know about that?' she asked him.
'Who
do you think the Ministry of Magic ultimately reports to Shelandragh
May? We may be somewhat small, now. But most Prime Ministers are
still Christian. The voters usually expect that. They don't want to
go to church themselves, but they want a Christian Prime Minister. We
have always known who you are Shelandragh May. I have had to be
informed, as the priest of this parish. But we've always
known.'
'Will
you hear my sins, father?' she asked him.
He
nodded.
Shelandragh
looked at Daniel and Lucy knowingly, and Daniel suddenly got the
hint. 'We'll be out the front,' he said, and he picked up Lucy to
follow him.
'You
know. I probably should do that,' said Daniel, standing by the statue
of St Patrick, and gazing out upon Cooma.
'What?'
asked Lucy.
'Confess
my sins,' replied Daniel, grinning at her.
'Is
there enough time in all of eternity for that?' asked Lucy, grinning
madly at him.
Daniel
chuckled. 'Probably not,' he replied.
They
stood there for a while, watching the town, and Shelandragh shortly
appeared, and nodded at them. 'He gave me the blessing of the sick,'
she said.
Daniel
suddenly remembered the sacrament, one of 7. 'Then all is good,' he
said softly.
Shelandragh
nodded.
'Can
you both take me home?' she asked. 'And stay for lunch. I prepared a
meal this morning.'
'We'll
stay for lunch,' said Lucy, taking Shelandragh's hand.
As
they drove back to Bunyan, driving past Lucy's place so she could
just look to see if there were any worries, as you could never trust
Decadence to watch over Jenny, but the house wasn't on fire, so they
continued on up to Bunyan.
And
they had a quiet lunch, and Shelandragh seemed at peace, quiet,
gentle. Accepting. And in the end, thought Daniel, serene.
*
* * * *
Shelandragh,
Lucy and Decadence were sitting together at the old Chakolan school
house, Shelandragh attempting to teach Decadence knitting, a Bridges
boy just outside fixing a tractor.
'Shelandragh?'
asked Lucy. 'What is your favourite book on Magic?
Shelandragh
looked at her sternly. 'It's an academic one. Sort of prefer the
academic approach now.'
'Why
is that?' asked Lucy.
Shelandragh
looked at her with a face. 'Oh, Lucy. A witch is a witch is a witch.
But Academia is the end of my witchcraft, in more ways then one, and
I study the wisdom of Magic more so, now.'
'Which
book?' asked Lucy again.
'The
Golden Bough. By Sir James George Frazer. It is my tome of study most
of the time now. And that Rainbow Torah Daniel published.'
'You
study the Rainbow Bible?' asked Lucy excitedly.
'The
Rainbow Torah,' corrected Shelandragh. 'The Scripture part. Daniel's
work is interesting, but not my consuming passion.'
'Oh,
Genesis 1:1 to 11:9,' said Lucy.
'The
Scripture I have agreed with God to abide by.'
'Right,'
said Lucy.
Shelandragh
looked at Lucy. 'And, Lucy. Do...........you. Have a favourite
work?'
Lucy
nodded.
'Mmm,'
said Shelandragh. 'And.........it is?'
'It's
an animist one,' said Lucy softly.
Shelandragh
weighed up a decision of long ago, and nodded to herself. 'I guess,
then, it would be. Wouldn't it.'
'It's
Body and Mind: A history and Defense of Animism by William
McDougall,' said Lucy.
Shelandragh
nodded. She was familiar with the work.
'I
have a favourite book too,' blurted out Decadence.
Shelandragh
and Lucy looked at her.
'It's
a religious one,' she said. 'A short work.'
'What
is it?' asked Lucy.
'It's
by Kahlil Gibran. It's called The Prophet. It's sort of alternative
Monotheistic thinking, really.'
'Oh,'
said Lucy.
'Interesting,'
said Shelandragh May, looking at the girl.
'And
I follow the Rainbow Torah as well,' said Decadence. 'I like Daniel's
teaching, but the Scripture of the Bible comes first, I suppose. Or
more as a priority than first. I have my own religion in it. It's
called 'The Voice of the Prophet Ministries'. I use the Rainbow Torah
and The Prophet as centring spirituality for my life. I read them
quite a lot and, sort of knowing what I know from Animism, I let the
spirit of it grow within me. It has a feel to it, a texture.'
'I've
noticed it,' said Lucy softly.
Decadence
looked at her stunned. 'YOU HAVE?'
'Sort
of very aware of spiritual stuff,' said Lucy shyly. 'So much of it
out there, you know. But your stuff is really deep Decadence. Very
attractive as well.'
Decadence
smiled. 'Why thank you Lucy Potter.'
They
sat in silence for a while, and Shelandragh was happy at her work.
But Lucy noticed, as the day passed, Shelandragh's head nodded down
occasionally, and bye late afternoon she was snoozing quietly.
'It's
not like her,' said Decadence. 'She always has so much energy.'
'I
know,' said Lucy.
'It's
like she's getting – old!' said Decadence, looking at
Shelandragh.
'I
know,' said Lucy.
Decadence
turned to look at Lucy. 'She never gets old.'
Lucy
pursed her lips and gazed at Shelandragh. Even immortals, in the end,
had to face their mortality.
*
* * * *
Lucy
was cleaning up out in the garage of her home next to the pool in
Cooma. There was so much junk which had accumulated for a while. She
sat there, sorting through it, deciding whether or not to keep this
or that item and, at the end, frustrated, she was supposed to have
two piles – one for keepers and one for chuckers. It was all in
the keepers pile.
'Your
terrible,' said Daniel.
'Oh,
I can't part with anything,' said Lucy. 'Look at this.'
Lucy
opened an old photograph album of her and the kids of chakola,
Madalene, Jayden and Georgia and herself, all messing around at the
farm. After a while she started crying and put the album down and sat
down on the steps.
Daniel
picked up the album, sat next to her, and started leafing through the
pages.
'You
miss them,' he said softly.
'They
were my best friends. Why is it that some of us stay alive, and some
of us just die? Far too soon, Daniel. Far too soon.'
'It
was there time, Lucy. They weren't chosen in the way we were. If we
were really chosen in the end anyway. I don't know. Sometimes I get
proud, you know, and I realize that our faith rewarded us with long
lives. It was the tree of life in us, which came from the Torah, and
the Torah is not the Gospel, and that is just the way it goes. They
were Catholics, and their childhood faith was what set the pattern.
It wasn't in them to believe. It wasn't in me, either, back then.
When I was Catholic. To believe in strange things life ancient lives
like Noah lived. He lived to 950 years of age, and Noahides had that
promise all along, and Shelandragh has always accepted that also,
even if she is a Christian. So, you know, it is sort of in them as
well, but the faith of the Church then, and now, doesn't really
believe it. Those long lives. They never accepted really as the
truth. Madalene certainly didn't, but later on a little, and lived a
fair while because of it. But, that said, neither do Jews really, or
many modern Noahides. It's just sort of acknowledged as a
possibility.'
'Then
why did you believe it?' asked Lucy.
He
looked at her. 'Why did you?'
'Because
its my fucking religion,' she said, and stood, and walked on to the
grass. She was in a mood. 'It's my fucking religion, ok. I'm a
karaite noahide, and the bloody bible is true, and God is real, and
people never give a shit regardless. And it pisses me off.'
Daniel
just looked at her.
She
glared at him, but softened, and came back to sit next to him.
'Decadence believes, you know. That Noah really lived that long. Says
its definitely true. She knows, you know.'
'We
are either the lucky ones, or cursed to walk this wicked world
alone,' replied Daniel.
'I
have you,' replied Lucy, cradling against him. 'And a schmuck called
Enrique when he bothers showing.'
'I
heard from him last week. He's in Spain. Doing his thing.'
Lucy
nodded. 'Long life,' she said after a while. 'But in the end, even
then, it doesn't last forever. Even Noah died in the end.'
'Yes.
And I have a few more grey hairs these days as well, Lucy. You
know.'
She
smiled. 'Mine are dyed. But there's a few.'
'Then
let us live long, prosper and be happy,' smiled Daniel.
And
Lucy cradled again against him, and didn't mind when Daniel picked up
the book and they relived old memories.
*
* * * *
And
so the days passed, and Lucy sat out on the edge of the little
theatre often, sitting there, thinking on Shelandragh and life, and
the mystery of it all. She sat there, in her heart, slowly letting go
– for the snoozes had turned a little dark, for coughing was
becoming prevalent, and blood was in the phlegm more often than not.
Shelandragh always said 'Never mind about that', and Lucy tried not
to. But she knew. She knew. And then, one day, it was quiet, and
gentle, and grey and overcast, and Bunyan had steady soft rain all
day, and when Lucy looked upon the sleeping Shelandragh late that
day, she wasn't sleeping anymore. Not an earthly sleep anyway. And
Lucy, despite herself, made the sign of the cross, and sat out in the
kitchen and quietly wept. And a funeral came, and a funeral went and
a life was dedicated to eternity.
She
watched the skies after that, at the little theatre, and sometimes it
rained, and sometimes it rained. She was in the melancholy of Lucy
Potter, a melancholy she had not really known before. But, in the
deepest heart of it, while she knew there was a passing which had
already come and gone, a passing which she would hardly ever get over
any time soon, there was a hope – and a love. There was a love
because there was a faith that a better place awaited a loved soul. A
better place and a brighter tomorrow. A brighter tomorrow.
A
few years later, Jenny Potter was sitting with Lucy and looked at her
mother suddenly. 'You know, mum. I didn't know her that well. But
would you tell me all about Shelandragh May?'
And
Lucy looked at her beloved daughter and sighed and said 'Heaven's
above, Jenny Potter. Now what on earth am I going to do with
you?'
THE
END
An
Excerpt from the upcoming 'Jenny Potter'
Lucy
Potter's Hogwarts House
Lucy
sat on the chair, waved at her daughter Jenny, who was next to go,
and smiled at those gathered. An honorary house for the cousin of
Harry Potter. What an honour. Of course, it would be Gryffindor. What
other house could it possibly be. Harry was Gryffindor. Hermione was
Gryffindor. Ron was Gryffindor. Everything revolved around the glory
of Gryffindor.
The
hat was put on, and started munching away on her thoughts, and
grumbled.
'Mmm.
Keen mind. Like its cousin. Intelligent. Perhaps too intelligent. And
oh so very moral. Religious, even. Very strict. Assumes Gryffindor.
Assumes it as clear as the day is light and the night is dark.
Assumes it so very, very much. But, no. I think not. That would be
far, far too easy.'
Lucy
was shocked, and Jenny looked alarmed.
'No.
This one has a different destiny. This one belongs in - House
Hufflepuff.'
The
hufflepuff house cheered, and as Lucy stood, and with a puzzled yet
apologetic look to her daughter Jenny, made her way, instead of over
to house Gryffindor, to the very happy looking Hufflepuff students.
She had found her new home
Jenny,
approaching the seat, stared at the house. 'Are you sure you know
what you are doing?' she asked it.
'Young
lady. I have been sorting out students into their houses since Merlin
was a lad. Well, almost. Sit, sit. We will soon see what we make of
you.'
Jenny,
reluctantly, sat, and the hat concentrated.
'Mmmm.
As smart as her mother. Quite. And oh so noble of heart. Yet gentle,
too gentle it would seem for her natural house. Too quiet. No, like
her mother. 'House Hufflepuff.'
'Figures,'
said Jenny, and went over to sit next to her mother.
'Perfect,'
said Lucy, holding her daughter.
'Does
the valiant man who so nobly spoke with our Centaur wish to partake?'
queried Dumbledore.
Daniel,
sitting nervously next to his wife Lucy, said nothing initially. 'Oh.
You know. I am just here as a guest.'
'Nonsense,'
said Dumbledore. 'Like Lucy let us grace you with an honorary house.
It is the least we can do after your kind act of generosity in saving
Hogwarts.'
'Oh.
Ok,' said Daniel. He came forward, sat, and the Hat started its
cogitations.
'It
was quite for a few moments and, finally. 'Well, laddy oh. You do
have your own style, I admit. And try as you might, with all that
fire in the belly, you just don't fit in Slytherin. A softer side.
But your no hero, despite what your vanity might assume, and you
would find Hufflepuff far to easy for your intellect. 'HOUSE
RAVENCLAW.'
Daniel
nodded, came over and sat next to Lucy, who quickly put her hand in
his. A choice had been made, though. They were NOT completely alike.
He was in another house. In Ravenclaw.