by T L Harty
After opening my eyes, Macy asked who she should bet on. The smaller guy was my answer, and he won in a well-acted battle. Macy retrieved her winnings and returned to the table.
“Let’s go,” she said.
We had only been there for a couple of hours, but I was ready to get back anyway.
Once we were on the road to the castle, Macy inquired, “You know why they both had the purple hue?”
“I think so,” I replied. Macy made a motion for me to go on. “Well, they both won. Their goal wasn’t to ultimately win an arm wrestling match,” I explained. “They wanted to make money, which made them both victorious…both purple.”
“And why was the smaller man’s hue a bit brighter?” Macy drilled.
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“Think,” Macy demanded. “If they both got the desired outcome of money, why would one have a brighter hue?”
“Because even though they both got what they wanted,” I answered, unaware that this knowledge was within me, “one of them lost a bit of pride and honor in the process.”
“You are good, Muriel,” Macy decided, while smiling ear to ear. “You are good!”
Once back at the castle, we went our separate ways. I got some bread and cheese from the kitchen and retired upstairs. It was only 8 p.m., but there was no stopping my appointment with the pillow. Perhaps Bruce expected me to visit him again, but we hadn’t talked of another meeting, so he would understand.
Before I knew it, morning light was streaming through my window. There was a heaviness on my side. After a quick examination, I found myself wrapped in Bruce’s embrace. He was lying behind me.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning,” I repeated, trying to get my bearings. “What are you doing here?”
Bruce stretched, while I jumped out of bed. “I missed you,” he said.
“My daughter cannot find us in here together,” I squawked. “You need to go back to your room.”
“Are you telling me you don’t enjoy my company?” he asked.
“You know darn well I enjoy your company,” I replied, smiling. “It’s one of the many things about you I find myself enjoying.”
He patted the bed and flashed me a come-hither look. I mindlessly started toward the bed, when the door creaked open. Luckily it opened away from the bed. Thinking quickly, I dove on the bed, shoving Bruce off the other side, where the rug muffled the thud of his fall.
“Hey, Mom,” Deidra said. “How was your night?”
“It was good,” I answered. “We went to a bar and I got some unexpected training.”
“I doubt a night spent with Macy is ever boring,” she mentioned. “Were there any cute guys? You get to think about stuff like that now.”
“Oh, sure,” I replied. “I danced with the most handsome man there.”
Bruce pushed the bed a little, making me smile.
“Do you want to go down to breakfast before your training with Clio?” Deidra offered. “I think you start with her today, and you might not want to spend time with her on an empty stomach.”
Springing out of bed, I tried to lead Deidra closer to the door, but she lay on the bed anyway. The circumstances were making me uncomfortable. If she saw Bruce hiding, we were automatically guilty- even if nothing had happened last night. You don’t hide a man in your room if you’re innocent.
I rushed into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Sleeping without a bra was normal, so I threw on a sweatshirt for breakfast and stuck my hair in a ponytail. I’d come back up here to pull myself together before meeting with Clio. A long shower was needed to lose the smell of smoke from the bar last night.
“C’mon,” I urged Deidra, “let’s go.”
“Good morning, Macy,” I greeted, arriving at the dining table. “Are you the only one having breakfast today?”
“No,” she replied. “Clio was down here earlier. By the way, she wants you to meet her in the library at ten this morning.”
“O.K.,” I agreed.
“Where’s Bruce?” Deidra wondered.
“I’m not sure,” Macy answered. “Maybe he decided to sleep in.”
We all enjoyed a nice breakfast before I retreated to my room to properly start the day. The floor on the side of the bed, where Bruce had landed, was vacant. I started the water in the shower and began to undress. The clothes were left right where they had been removed. I’d pick them up after the shower.
After only a couple of minutes in the shower, the sound of humming was heard outside the bathroom, getting louder and louder. Rolling the shower door to the side, I discovered a naked Bruce walking toward the shower. After he stepped in the shower, we never exchanged words, but it was good the walls were made of stone.
______
Clio was already in the library when I arrived fifteen minutes early. Whatever was going to happen today, there was no way she could ruin my mood. Give it your best shot, I thought to myself.
“Good to see you, Muriel,” Clio said. “Can you shut the door? We shouldn’t be disturbed.”
The door was closed and I took my seat across from Clio, curious about what she would add to my experience. Each council member thus far had been a surprising delight, but that was not the expectation with Clio.
Suddenly, Clio smiled. Her smile turned into laughter, and she was intermittently clapping her hands, while shaking her head. The library became filled with her noise. After a few minutes, I couldn’t help but smile. She started to calm down, wiping tears away.
“You, my dear,” she started. “You are Danu. We’ve waited so long…our parents and grandparents have waited so long.”
Clio was without a doubt the most even-keeled, unemotional council member of the group. Her outburst was wholly unexpected. She dropped to her knees to kiss my hand, and then returned to her chair. Without a clue how to respond to her behavior, I just sat there needled by my own discomfort, while my smile became forced.
“Danu is a mother goddess of Ireland,” Clio explained. “Some say she was a myth, while others claim she was the beginning of the clans. Either way, you have been tested and found true.”
“What do you mean by tested?” I wondered.
“The training with the council members encapsulated the testing process,” she explained. “Had we called it testing, you would have reacted adversely. Your personality demands it.”
Damn it, she was right. The fact that Clio or anyone here could confront me with my own character was both complimentary and infuriating.
“Can you explain to me the tests that I passed with each council member?” I asked.
“Gladly,” Clio responded. “Your first session was with Ann.”
“I learned that her gift was the worst,” I said, “that Deidra would need to marry one of Bruce’s sons, and that we shouldn’t love things, but people.”
Clio grinned. “And we learned that you are able to resist practically impossible temptations when it will affect those you love,” Clio shared. “You also have become more open to Deidra’s future love interests. Why is that?”
“I saw a vision, convincing me that your way of doing things was better for Deidra,” I said. “And, just for the record, Bruce wasn’t that impossible of a temptation.”
“I haven’t met another woman who could resist his charm,” Clio argued. “He’s from the line of Myrrdin, after all.”
Choosing to side-step any discussion about Bruce, for the moment, I asked, “And what did my training with Tina teach you?”
“That you can pull visions up at will,” Clio replied, excitedly. “It is extraordinary. But, most importantly, we learned that you are gracious and courteous.”
I was searching my memory of time spent with Tina, remembering that I called her a twat. Clio’s conclusions seemed unfounded.
She must have recognized my confused expression. “You knew immediately who the riddle spoke of in that restaurant,” Clio explained, “but you gave Deidra an opportunity to find her. That sh
owed us that it wasn’t important for you to conquer or assert your intelligence.”
“Interesting,” I admitted. “But I wasn’t very nice to Tina.”
“On the contrary,” Clio said. “You indulged her with snippets of history from your visions. They don’t interest you that much, but they mean a great deal to Tina. She enjoyed the time she spent with you so much that she was upset when she was asked to leave early.”
“Well, I wasn’t gracious and courteous to Rick or Lorrah,” I pointed out.
“But this is where you handled yourself most impressively,” Clio beamed. “Rick and Lorrah are similar to the enemies we will face. Macy relayed that you may have gone overboard, which left me in disbelief, but very pleased. She is the one to usually push too far, with no awareness of the fact. It showed your strength and resolve…your ability to assert yourself with no remorse. And, if you choose, the consequences you left with Rick can be reversed. It was brilliant. That was the test we feared most. The council didn’t think you had it in you.”
“And what of Bridget’s training?” I inquired.
“Believe it or not, this was the most telling test,” Clio responded. “Bridget didn’t think you had her gift to heal. Typically, when a Toec has the strength to lift a table with her anger, she will not possess the gentle touch of healing. Your time with Bridget would determine if you were going to reign as Danu.”
“I’ve never healed anyone,” I pointed out.
“But, you have,” Clio corrected. “Bridget told the council that you healed yourself in less than two weeks’ time of all the pain or anger you carried about your mother, husband and even your grandmother.”
“My grandmother?” I wondered.
“There were times when you felt betrayed by your grandmother,” Clio said, “between the secrecy and the information she shared with the record-keeper. But, Bridget knew the moment you were healed from everything, and the instant you were open to trusting again.”
Clio didn’t need to explain that moment because I felt the healing, during a talk with Bruce. He was masterfully convincing me to believe in him…to take a chance. Had Bridget not interrupted, we were definitely going to take some chances.
“So, does that mean,” I wondered, with a smile, “that Bridget knew exactly what she was doing when she burst into Bruce’s apartment?”
“Oh, yes,” Clio confirmed. “One of Bridget’s favorite sayings has something to do with a bird. What was that again? Oh yes,” she remembered. “When a bird’s wing is healed, the first thing it wants to do is see if it still has the ability to fly.” Clio waved her hands around. “It’s something like that.”
She started to gather her belongings. “I have to be somewhere in an hour,” Clio said. “I’m sorry about cutting our time short.” She raced toward the door, stopping herself and turning around. “I just want you to know what a blessing it is to have you here, and how excited I am to get to know you,” she said. “Bruce will be here any minute. He has some more training with you before lunch.”
Her words touched me. None of the other council members spoke with such tenderness. Perhaps my impression of her was wrong. There was no time to think on that notion, as Bruce made his way toward me in the library.
“Why didn’t you tell me I would be seeing you this morning?” I asked.
“Surprises are always fun,” he answered, kissing my hand in the most gentlemanly way. “I suggest that we keep a fair distance between one another so we can actually talk.”
“Party pooper,” I accused. “What is it we are going to discuss?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “Do you have any questions after your time with Clio?”
“It’s hard to understand why she is so excited about my presence here,” I pondered. “She compliments me, saying that I have certain virtues like grace and courtesy. But, the way I handled Rick and Lorrah didn’t exemplify either of those traits.”
“Can I tell you a story?” Bruce asked.
“Only because you asked so nicely,” I replied.
He smiled and took a seat on the other side of the table.
“A king sent a trusted advisor into enemy lands,” Bruce started. “This man was sworn to secrecy by the king and spoke to no one of his mission. Because of this, he traveled modestly, without large bands of men or advisors. The unthinkable happened, and he was recognized by a villager in this foreign land. Unfortunately, his reputation as a great warrior preceded him.”
“He was brought to the king in the area,” Bruce explained. “And when he came before the king, he acted like he was crazy. He mumbled, scratching the gate and drooling down his beard. The king was upset that he had received the man, asking his soldiers if they thought he lacked madmen in his kingdom. The king eventually sent the man away.”
“Did he finish his mission?” I wondered.
“I’ve no idea, but you’re missing the point of the story,” Bruce scolded. “Do you see what I’m trying to tell you?”
“No,” I answered honestly.
“The man brought before the king wasn’t crazy,” Bruce said. “And if he wasn’t crazy, he was lying and employing trickery so he would be released.”
Bruce extended his arms, palms up, with the notion that he had enlightened me with understanding. He hadn’t but, in my defense, when in Bruce’s immediate vicinity, it was hard to concentrate.
Realizing his story had traveled over my head, he asked, “Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“Yes,” I replied. “That would be great. Maybe my hearing isn’t that good today. Let me get closer.” Rising from my chair, I took a few steps to Bruce and sat on his lap. “That’s better,” I whispered, while nibbling his earlobe. It was obviously making him nuts.
“The point of the story is that sometimes, even though the ultimate goal is good- it may need to be achieved by employing some madness,” he explained, breathing heavier. “The way you handled Rick and Lorrah, for example...”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, finally understanding his point. “What a great story. Was that a story from a Celtic or Toec tribe?”
Bruce’s hands were roaming around on my back and legs. He was kissing my neck, working his way up to my lips. After kissing me, he put his forehead to mine.
“It’s a story from the Bible,” Bruce said. “That man on a mission would be King David…a man after God’s own heart.”
“You don’t say,” I mused. “And what is your heart after?”
Bruce had an imaginary switch, and I had flipped it, knowing full well there would be no more training. He placed me on the round table, went to lock the library door and returned to me.
“My heart could indulge in a little madness right about now,” he said.
Chapter 22- Spring Break
Grammy wasn’t scheduled to work for the rest of my spring break visit. She didn’t have to work on Easter either, but she’d always volunteer for holidays so the younger nurses could enjoy time with their families. She told them not to think too much of it because she was only doing it for the double-time pay, but everyone knew she was a sweetheart, even amid her denial.
This time of the year was slow for Grammy. Summer and fall were busy with figuring out what to do with Gramps’ garden bounty, but winter and spring were calmer. That’s why it was so strange when I walked into the kitchen to find my Grammy baking up a storm. There were cookies and cupcakes cooling all over the kitchen. She was cleaning up a mixing bowl, and looked up to greet me.
“Hi, Muriel,” she said.
“Hi Grammy,” I replied, still looking around the kitchen. “What’s all this?”
“We’re going into town soon,” she answered. “I have a meeting with my ladies weight loss group. We meet once a month and today’s topic is spring cleaning. Everyone has an assignment, and mine is to make healthy baked goods that will replace the bad.”
Frankly, it boggled my mind that this group of women would ask Grammy to cook. I grabbed a cookie off one of the cooling racks
, taking a bite. Immediately regretting the decision, I tried to share it with the dogs. They each took a little, but refused the bulk of it.
“How do you like it?” Grammy wondered.
I immediately started scanning a list of adjectives in my head, hoping one of them would be appropriate. The fact that I was still chewing bought me some time. That was important because the adjectives that were coming to me, (dry, flavorless, disgusting), wouldn’t be well-received. To avoid choking, I drank a bit of water to wash the desert-like dessert down.
“I’ve never eaten anything like these,” I remarked, using a very upbeat tone to shroud the ambiguous statement. “They must be really healthy.” If these were the first cookies I’d ever eaten, there would be no reason to crave a warm chocolate chip or iced Christmas cookie again.
“They are very good for you,” Grammy stated, proud of her accomplishment. “I even changed the recipe a little to make them better for you.”
There it was. She changed the recipe. She probably left out the ingredient that made them edible, whatever that may be. I helped wrap everything up, and avoided any more discussion about her baked goods.
The meeting was at the community center, and when we walked in, there were about twenty women already there. The size of the group surprised me, being this was such a small town. Grammy and I had our arms filled with baked goods, which we set down on a table. She introduced me to two women by the table before going out to the car to retrieve her things for the meeting.
“I’m glad Muriel baked again,” one of the ladies said. “It makes things easier.”
My curiosity got the best of me, and I had to ask, “You like her baking?”
“Oh, lord no,” the other woman answered in a whisper. “Her baking is so bad, that no one wants to eat it. But, that means we all lose weight next month. Muriel thinks her baked goods helped and we drop some pounds. It’s a win-win.”
Grammy came back in, got weighed and we took a seat together. There were five rectangular tables for seating around the room. One was in front, with chairs only on one side of the table, facing the other four. Grammy explained that the table in front was for the leaders of the group. There was a president, vice president, secretary, treasurer and weight recorder.