Shasta Summer

by Teresa Geering

  “I have to admit there’s something about this cottage and the village, May. They have a relaxing influence on me. Maybe it’s the sun; it always seems to shine here through the whole of the summer months. Even in the winter it never seems cold or unpleasant,” Iris said. “There’s no order to the garden, unlike ours at home, but the flowers look so beautiful and always seem so vibrant and alive.”

  May just smiled to herself. Having imparted the information about her niece, how could she tell her sister that Shasta was a magic village steeped in history and legends? Iris’ only daughter, Summer, as she had christened her, was in fact called Shasta and the village was named after her.

  When Summer had turned up at her aunt’s, May had told her, over her three weeks stay, the history of her previous life with Merlin She had also told her about Faery Cove which was situated through the gate at the bottom of May’s garden. During the course of those weeks, Summer-Shasta had also met Abelia, the faery queen, who had reinforced May’s words to her. Shasta had the power to change the past. During this time the villagers had come to recognise that she was indeed Shasta from the past reincarnated in this lifetime.

  The power of love between Shasta and Merlin had finally overcome the spell that had turned Merlin into a cat, and Merlin had returned to human form. In an effort to ensure that Merlin stayed permanently human, they had gone back to their previous life of two hundred years ago to rectify the situation and, in effect, change history. It was a dangerous journey to embark upon but, furnished with Shasta’s powers, it was possible.

  Breaking into her thoughts, George said,

  “Well, there is nothing more that we can do tonight, Iris. I suggest we unpack our cases and retire for the night.”

  Yawning several times, Iris was already beginning to doze.

  “I agree, George. Although it’s only nine o’clock, I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes open. I bid you goodnight then, May, and we’ll see you in the morning.”

  As the words left her mouth, Iris thought what a strange way that was to say goodnight.

  Normally she would just say ‘Goodnight, May’ and retire. Nothing much seemed to surprise her anymore, though. Her sister seemed to have a strange influence over her in a nice sort of way. She made up her mind to visit May more often in the future. Shasta Village was beginning to grow on her. George followed Iris into the bedroom and started to unpack the cases whilst Iris lay on the bed half propped up by the pillows and her elbows.

  Looking around the room, she took in the patchwork quilt on the bed and the matching curtains. In one corner there was a wardrobe and the two chests of drawers sat one on each side of the bed. In the opposite corner was a wicker chair with cushions which also matched the curtains.

  Iris decided the room definitely had cosy feel and she was sure she would sleep well. Knowing that her daughter had also slept in the room was especially comforting to her. The mattress on the bed seemed to mould itself around her body and she was having trouble staying awake.

  George put the last of their clothes into the drawers and, as he turned around to take the case off of the bed, he realised that Iris was virtually asleep.

  “Come on, Iris, let me help you get undressed and into bed. I didn’t realise you were that tired.”

  Fortunately she wasn’t very heavy and George was able to pull her upright, albeit in a rather undignified way. Seemingly unable to help, Iris just seemed to flop about. Eventually George managed to get her out of her clothes and into a nightie, and then into bed, where she promptly fell asleep. Realising he wasn’t as tired as he first thought, he wandered back out towards the kitchen where he noticed that the back door was open and headed towards it. Stepping outside, he found May sitting in the two-seater swing seat.

  “Can I join you, May?” he asked.

  “I’d be pleased of the company.” She patted the vacant seat beside her.

  George sat down and they stayed that way for a few moments in a companionable silence, both watching the moon and the shadows it cast around the garden.

  “Iris is asleep, then?” enquired May.

  “Yes, I have never known her to fall asleep so quickly. It’s a blessed relief, if I’m honest.”

  “Tiredness creeps up on you in Shasta when you aren’t used to the country air,” she said.

  With that the gentle rain began to fall, and the plants and the earth drank greedily.

  The strangest thing of all was not only didn’t George feel cold but also he wasn’t getting wet.

  “Shasta is a very special village. Sometimes you just have to accept everything that happens around you without question.”

  “Yes, but … ”

  “Hush, just take my word for it, my dear. I promise no harm will come to you in Shasta. You have my word on that.”

  As he wondered silently what on earth was happening around him, he also questioned his sanity, although he had to admit to himself that he felt very relaxed about the whole situation.

  “You know, May, for the first time in a long time I feel absolutely relaxed and in need of a beer.”

  “But you rarely drink, George. Are you sure?” May replied.

  “Absolutely” he said with conviction.

  Oh well, thought May, here goes, and immediately two bottles of beer appeared in her hands.

  “Good God, May!!..... How? ... What? .... ”

  “Oh, it’s just magic George, pure magic.”

  “But how? ... [then] .... I wonder if we could bottle it, May?” he said and they both laughed at his joke.

  As they drank their beers straight from the bottle, George began to question everything that had happened. He could listen to May properly now without Iris around him getting stressed.

  “Well, as I tried to explain earlier, Shasta village has a magical quality. That is something you either accept or you don't. Most people in my experience have faired much better if they accept it. The rain, for instance, only happens at night, regardless of the season. Flowers also come into bloom here out of season. If you wish something to bloom, it will. During the summer months the sun shines for hours on end. That was one of the reasons I changed your daughter's hair to blonde. Her red hair was causing her to burn terribly and I don’t think you will be disappointed when you see how mature she has become.”

  “How mature has she become, May?” George asked, rather concerned. “She was eight and three quarters when we left her here.”

  “You will have to accept the fact that, because of overriding events that have happened in Shasta, she has grown into a young woman and she has now aged to at least eighteen years since being here, George. But she is absolutely beautiful. Shasta is her heritage. I knew from the day she was born when I visited the hospital that she was the legendary Shasta reincarnated. I could see it in her eyes. I also knew that one day she would return and remember all that had happened in the past. It was only a matter of time before everything came back to her, with a little prompting from Abelia and me, of course.”

  “Who is Abelia?” George asked.

  “The faery Queen, George.”

  “The faery Que… oh give me a break, May, this is George you’re talking to. I’m forty-six years old and I stopped thinking about the tooth faery and Father Christmas many years ago.”

  “Well, I think you’re going to be in need of a rethink on that score, George.”

  “So where are these faeries, then and can I have another beer, please, May?” As he said it, so another full bottle appeared in his hand.

  “Well, I’ll be … ”

  “Be careful what you ask for, George - you may get a surprise.”

  “So I see,” he said with amusement He rather liked it here in Shasta.

  “As I was saying, May, where are these faeries, then?”

  “At the bottom of my garden, George. Faeries mostly live at the bottom of the garden. I thought you, as a market gardener, would know that.”

  “If I started to talk to the public about faeries at the bott
om of a garden, I would either go broke or end up a millionaire with the publicity.”

  “Well, these faeries only appear at night and they live at the very bottom of the garden through the gate by the wishing well.” All this was said with emphasis, to get the point across.

  “Don’t tell me. To get into the faery kingdom you have to drink from the wishing well and shrink in size so that you don’t frighten them,” George said smugly.

  “How did you know that, George?” May asked feigning surprise.

  “You're kidding, you mean you really have to do that? I was making it up as I went along, May,” George said incredulously.

  “How would you feel if you came upon a giant, George. Wouldn’t you feel rather frightened?”

  “Realistically, I suppose I would – yes,” he said thoughtfully. “Hey, wait a minute, you are making all this up aren’t you? I know your sense of humour, May,” he teased her, half hoping that he was right and half hoping that maybe faeries did exist at the bottom of May's garden. What a story that would make.

  “Actually I thought you of all people would believe I was telling you the truth, George.”

  “It really is true, then, all of it?

  “I’m afraid so, George,” said May with some feeling, wishing to reassure him once and for all.

  “In that case, let’s get another round in and this time make it doubles,” George said. No sooner was the remark out of his mouth, instantly four bottles of beer appeared at his feet which caused them both to laugh out loud.

  When they had finished their drinks, George decided to head for bed and sleep on all that May had told him.

  How was he going to convince Iris that May wasn’t mad or eccentric, and that not only was their daughter going on eighteen, but she had grown to a young woman and had magical powers that she was apparently born with.

  By the time he had finished explaining, he would probably need an analyst, and his wife would need one too.

  Chapter 21

  The following morning Iris woke first, while George lay on his back gently snoring beside her.

  Strange that, he normally only snored when he had been drinking. Oh well, she thought to herself, that means I can savour this moment before he wakes up. Stretching her body with a feeling of sensuousness, she snuggled down again. Oh this bed and mattress were so comfortable; they seemed to hug themselves around her body. They really were quite sensuous.

  Iris Baker, what are you thinking of? she admonished herself.

  She began to try and make sense of everything her sister had told her about Summer, or should she call her Shasta now while she was here. It was all so confusing to her. George seemed to take everything in his stride.

  As she thought this, he suddenly let out a long exaggerated snort and woke up. Turning to Iris he asked if she had had a good sleep.

  “Yes, thank you, George, I can’t remember when I last slept so well, I must admit. This bed is so comfy. Did you know you were snoring, by the way?”

  “After you went to sleep, I went back out to the garden, and May and I had a couple of beers before I came back to bed.”

  “Whatever possessed you, George, you rarely drink.”

  “Well, under the circumstances I felt it was justified, Iris. It isn’t every day you find out that your daughter was alive two hundred years ago and that she has magical powers.”

  “What are we going to do, George?”

  “Well, there is nothing much that we can do at the moment, so I’m going to get up and make a cup of coffee. Would you like a cup of tea, Iris?”

  “Yes please, George, that would be lovely. I must admit I am quite reluctant to leave this bed.”

  “Stay here, then. I’ll bring it to you when it’s made.”

  Putting on his dressing gown and slippers, George padded out to the kitchen. May was already at the table drinking coffee and eating toast.

  “Morning, May. It’s a lovely morning again. Iris is lying in this morning courtesy of your comfy bed. Thought I would give her tea in bed. Where’s the teapot?”

  May laughed. “Remember our conversation last night, George? I don’t actually possess a teapot. This is Shasta, remember?” If you just think about a cup of Earl Grey in a bone china cup, it will appear for you.”

  “So it wasn’t a dream, then? Right, here goes,” and as he thought it the cup of tea appeared.

  “Whoa, this is something else. Coffee for me, please, and toast. Can I get you another cup, May, or some more toast maybe?”

  “More coffee would be nice thank you, George.” With that it appeared in front of them.

  George, acting as if it was second nature by now, took Iris’s tea in to her and then rejoined May at the kitchen table.

  Tucking into his coffee and toast, he said, “I think we’ll have to take things more slowly with Iris. She isn’t quite as adaptable as me.”

  “I agree but I think you could be surprised how easily she has accepted all that has happened, Shasta affects people in many different ways, George, and you could find that Iris changes her view completely during her stay. I assume you will be staying until Shasta returns?”

  “Oh definitely, we must” he said.

  “We must what?” asked Iris as she came into the kitchen holding her empty cup and saucer.

  “Stay here until Shasta returns.”

  “Well that goes without question, my dear.”

  How easily they accept the change from Summer to Shasta, thought May.

  “Would you like another cup of tea, Iris?” asked May with a hint of devilment.

  “Oh, yes please, that would be lovely, May.”

  Instantly Iris’s cup was full and she was so shocked she nearly dropped it. “How did you do that? I mean, it happened instantly. May, how…”

  George just smiled and beckoned Iris to sit on his knee. Surprised at herself, she actually did it. How many years was it since she had sat on his knee, she wondered. At least six, she supposed. Well what was happening to her? She had to admit whatever it was she liked it very much.

  Staying where she was she began to drink her tea. I really fancy some toast, May, if that’s alright.”

  May and George looked at one another and smiled secretively. The look on Iris’ face should have been captured in print when the toast appeared. She was in shock at first and just looked at it incredulously. Then hunger got the better of her and she began to eat it, making no comment whatsoever.

  Whilst May was clearing the breakfast crockery, George and Iris returned to the bedroom to tidy up and make the bed, and George took the opportunity to discuss with Iris what had happened to their daughter. Given the circumstances, Iris took it all very well and in her stride. They should in all honesty be worried sick but somehow they both felt that everything would work out alright.

  Having made the bed between them, Iris glided over to George and put her arms around him. Well, this is different, thought George. I have never known Iris to be so demonstrative. May was right - this village does have a different effect on people, and this for Iris was very different. 'One doesn’t usually bother with that sort of thing', was her usual comment.

  Eventually they left the bedroom and went back out to May in the kitchen.

  “Perhaps we could all go for a walk to the village as it’s such a beautiful day,” said May.

  “I rather like that idea. What do you think, Iris?”

  “Whatever you say, George dear,” said Iris rather shyly.

  May was very aware of the difference in her sister. She seemed less anxious than when she first came. It certainly made life easier for her and also for George.

  Poor George, in marrying Iris he had taken on a lifetime's work. She could be so pompous at times but he loved her dearly and gave into her most of the time. Every so often, though, he put up a defiant streak which brought Iris back into line.

  “Well, if we’re ready, lets go,” said May.

  Walking up the path to the gate, May stopped every so often to a
dmire her flowers and praise them for their beauty. Iris and George, following behind, did the same.

  “I was just thinking, George, perhaps we should change the design of our garden when we get back home. I do believe our garden is far too stiff and regimented.”

  “Did I just hear you right? When I suggested we have it rustic and rambling you stopped talking to me for a day merely because I had suggested it. It’s taken Giles, our gardener, at least ten years to get it exactly as you wanted it and now you want it all gutted and started again. Well, rather you tell him than me, Iris.”

  “Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, George, I’ll talk to Giles when I get back. You know I have a way with him.”

  May laughed quietly to herself. Oh yes things were going to be perfect and she might even take Iris and George to Faery Cove sooner rather than later. She couldn’t wait to see her sister’s face, or George’s for that matter. Having to be reduced in size was going to be quite an experience for both of them.

  During their walk to the village, Iris and George commented on the many styles of garden there were in Shasta without a weed to be seen.

  “They must spend an exceptional amount of time caring for their gardens, May,” said Iris.

  Was this the opportunity to remind Iris about Shasta being a magic village, she wondered. Perhaps not; she would wait until they stopped for a drink in the village.

  “Oh, I don’t think they have too much to do, Iris. The gardens more or less look after themselves,” said May grinning.

  Chapter 22

  Having reached the village, May suggested that they should have a drink to cool themselves.

  Close to the village green was a teashop, typical of the type found in Devon with quaint tables and chairs arranged outside. Iris chose a table under a tree where she could look over the village green and enjoy the shade. George sat in the chair beside her, on May's insistence, while she went inside to get their drinks. Iris had been persuaded to have a fresh cold orange juice along with George and May.