Enchanted Australia Collection

Chapter 6

Things you need to know about my grandmothers: I should number these, so I know where they come from and where they fit. Melusine numbered her stories, and I’m copying her, therefore . . . I won’t. I’m being a stubborn twenty-something. Besides, Melusine’s numbering made no sense at all. And her stories always included little lies. Sometimes they included bigger lies. Sometimes they included truths that looked like lies. If I number my notes about my grandmothers then you’ll know they’re lies. Which they aren’t. They just look like they are. Only one of Melusine’s types of lies counts in my world.

Mabel told me once that the only person Ann ever lies to is herself. She’ll jostle everyone else into activity and stir up their lives, but stirring lives isn’t really lying, it’s just pretend-lying. Call that factoid #1, except without a number. (As I write this, all those years are peeling back and my fundamental Katness is emerging like fine bones as the skin loses childish chub.)

Factoid the one after 1 (but even more without a number — laugh, dammit!) is that I still remember bits of the conversation from that first dinner party. Maybe the grandmothers sat down on purpose to let me know all sorts of things. That stinks of manipulation, though, and my grandmothers were not that manipulative. Loving and caring and butting in all over the place (but in a good way), yes, but not manipulative.

They were convinced they were manipulative. I still pretend to believe they are sometimes, when they look fragile.

Ann was trying to loom. She casually let slip over the green chicken that she had a teensy-weensy bit of Roswell in her background. She did it so casually that Kat was impressed. Kat, unfortunately, couldn’t see the looks Mabel and Lil cast at their friend. Mabel rolled her eyes when Ann said, “I was abducted. It may have been by aliens, but I prefer to think of them as fair folk.”

She lost a week on a holiday as a child and had seen things ever since. That was why she squinted her left eye from time to time. One eye had much stronger sight than the other.

“I can see spirits and otherworldly things more than ghosts, though,” she remarked cheerfully, still intent on communicating the normalcy of this sort of thing, to appear impressive.

“Your time away, do you have any memory of it?” Lil asked.

“Not a scrap. Mum made me get hypnotised to see if I was suppressing something important, but there wasn’t a thing.”

“And then you started realising that you were seeing things.” Mabel was encouraging, despite the eye-rolling. “You saw shadows at first? Or fairy creatures?”

“I played with something for two years. When I went to high school we got mad at each other and I haven’t seen it since.”

“Where was this?” Lil’s voice sharpened with curiosity. Her eyes would have betrayed to Kat that she had heard most of the story before, but not that bit. Lil was intensely curious in an all-new way.

“We were in England for a work-exchange programme.”

“So you lost your little friend when you returned to Australia.” The room echoed with the bursting of Ann’s little balloon.

“Well, yes,” she said. “But we argued first. It didn’t all happen at once.”

“I see,” said Lil, with a faint tone of disappointment. Just a trace.

Mabel quickly spoke into the tension. “I’ve heard you talk about your shadow,” she prompted.

“Not often,” said Ann. “I think it was stolen when I was missing.” Kat didn’t believe this one at all, but she was still child enough to cross her fingers to remind herself she had to watch out for Ann’s shadow.

“So if you and your shadow were strolling down the avenue,” said Lil, “it would be hand-in-hand, old pals reunited.” Everyone laughed. Old friends cosy.

I must make a note about Ann’s shadow. Not now, though. Now I’m dreaming of King Arthur. There was a knight’s tale in Melusine’s stories. Let me put it in here, for both of us. I know it’s a lot of Melusine stories all at once, up here on my blog, but I’m bored to tears at work, and they’re good stories. For some rather odd values of ‘good.’

Tales of Melusine #2

Tales of Melusine #2Once upon a time, the fairy Melusine flew far, far north to visit the forest of Broceliande. She had heard that it contained her kinfolk. The news came from human tales, however, and human tales are unreliable: she wanted to find out for herself.

Once upon a time, the fairy Melusine flew far, far north to visit the forest of Broceliande. She had heard that it contained her kinfolk. The news came from human tales, however, and human tales are unreliable: she wanted to find out for herself.Her meeting with distant kin is another story and one that she refuses to tell. There is bigotry in the world of the fae, and Melusine was glad to move away from the enclosed Vale of No Return to the part of the forest that was inhabited by humans. It was kinder and far, far less wet.

Her meeting with distant kin is another story and one that she refuses to tell. There is bigotry in the world of the fae, and Melusine was glad to move away from the enclosed Vale of No Return to the part of the forest that was inhabited by humans. It was kinder and far, far less wet.Not too distant (by modern standards) from the place that became Rennes, Melusine met up with a boy-child.

Not too distant (by modern standards) from the place that became Rennes, Melusine met up with a boy-child.He didn’t know he was a boy-child: he thought he was a wolf-child. He watched her from behind a big oak tree. He was very cautious and shy, this four-legged boy who was human inside. He watched Melusine from behind an oak at first, but one thing Melusine was learning was that she had a great deal of time to dispose of, so she waited. She tempted the boy with raw meat at first, and he would dash in, snatch it, then return to his safe oak.

He didn’t know he was a boy-child: he thought he was a wolf-child. He watched her from behind a big oak tree. He was very cautious and shy, this four-legged boy who was human inside. He watched Melusine from behind an oak at first, but one thing Melusine was learning was that she had a great deal of time to dispose of, so she waited. She tempted the boy with raw meat at first, and he would dash in, snatch it, then return to his safe oak.Gradually she persuaded him into eating meat that was heated gently, then to eat sirloin that had been seared lightly. Finally, she carefully placed a cloth on the grass. On the cloth she placed a silver plate. On the plate she placed sliced lamb, well cooked. Next to the plate on the right was a bowl with a fine cameline sauce. In front of the plate she placed a second bowl, filled with scented water. Below the plate she placed a small cloth and a sharp knife.

Gradually she persuaded him into eating meat that was heated gently, then to eat sirloin that had been seared lightly. Finally, she carefully placed a cloth on the grass. On the cloth she placed a silver plate. On the plate she placed sliced lamb, well cooked. Next to the plate on the right was a bowl with a fine cameline sauce. In front of the plate she placed a second bowl, filled with scented water. Below the plate she placed a small cloth and a sharp knife.The child that looked like a wolf came out from behind his oak. He sniffed at the bowl of scented water. He sniffed at the cameline sauce. He sniffed at the fine roast of lamb. The wolf dipped his eating hand in the bowl of water, and looked down at it quizzically. He looked up at Melusine. All of him was still wolf, except for that one hand.

The child that looked like a wolf came out from behind his oak. He sniffed at the bowl of scented water. He sniffed at the cameline sauce. He sniffed at the fine roast of lamb. The wolf dipped his eating hand in the bowl of water, and looked down at it quizzically. He looked up at Melusine. All of him was still wolf, except for that one hand.He gave a whuff and settled in front of his meal. His other hand reached for the small cloth. When he put the cloth on his neck, it fell, for he had no way to hold it. He tried again and his torso and lower body were human and clothed in garments that were too tight. He ignored them and tucked the napkin into his old, tight clothes. He reached for the knife, cut off a proper portion of meat, dipped it in the sauce, and ate it. As the meat touched his lips, he was fully human.

He gave a whuff and settled in front of his meal. His other hand reached for the small cloth. When he put the cloth on his neck, it fell, for he had no way to hold it. He tried again and his torso and lower body were human and clothed in garments that were too tight. He ignored them and tucked the napkin into his old, tight clothes. He reached for the knife, cut off a proper portion of meat, dipped it in the sauce, and ate it. As the meat touched his lips, he was fully human.“My name is Raoul,” he announced. “Who are you?”

“My name is Raoul,” he announced. “Who are you?”Melusine avoided answering. “How did this happen to you?” Melusine asked, gently, once the child had finished and thanked her with a grave courtesy. “You are obviously well-bred.”

Melusine avoided answering. “How did this happen to you?” Melusine asked, gently, once the child had finished and thanked her with a grave courtesy. “You are obviously well-bred.”The child shrugged, and the shrug had the feel of the wolf-huff. “Someone took me away when I was playing. They changed me to make me run faster. I ran so very fast that I lost them.”

The child shrugged, and the shrug had the feel of the wolf-huff. “Someone took me away when I was playing. They changed me to make me run faster. I ran so very fast that I lost them.”“And you didn’t know how to change back? Did you like wearing wolf skin?”

“And you didn’t know how to change back? Did you like wearing wolf skin?”The child nodded. “But I don’t want to wear it forever. I want to go home.”

The child nodded. “But I don’t want to wear it forever. I want to go home.”“I shall take you there,” Melusine promised. “But first I shall give you a gift. Look behind you.” Behind him lay the skin that he had worn as a wolf. “Carry it with you. Hide it somewhere secret. When you wish to run on four legs, you can. When you wish to be a man again, you may. Keep your secret well.”

“I shall take you there,” Melusine promised. “But first I shall give you a gift. Look behind you.” Behind him lay the skin that he had worn as a wolf. “Carry it with you. Hide it somewhere secret. When you wish to run on four legs, you can. When you wish to be a man again, you may. Keep your secret well.”“I shall,” said the boy, his face flushed with the seriousness of the moment. “I promise.”

“I shall,” said the boy, his face flushed with the seriousness of the moment. “I promise.”Melusine nodded. “Then let’s find your home,” she said. “Let’s find your parents.”

Melusine nodded. “Then let’s find your home,” she said. “Let’s find your parents.”Many years later she visited him again. She never developed a taste for the society of the White Ladies of the north, but she had developed a friendship for the child who had worn wolf skin. She was young and heedless, and cared not who knew of her differences. She would fly back and forth between the south and the north, once a year, once every two years, bringing gifts. The child grew strong in courtesy. He was careful to keep relations between the two of them respectful by selecting his gifts to her with great care — they never came to more than a pair of elegant gloves or a charming ring.

Many years later she visited him again. She never developed a taste for the society of the White Ladies of the north, but she had developed a friendship for the child who had worn wolf skin. She was young and heedless, and cared not who knew of her differences. She would fly back and forth between the south and the north, once a year, once every two years, bringing gifts. The child grew strong in courtesy. He was careful to keep relations between the two of them respectful by selecting his gifts to her with great care — they never came to more than a pair of elegant gloves or a charming ring.And thus the two were poised between the ordinary and the extraordinary for a decade or more.

And thus the two were poised between the ordinary and the extraordinary for a decade or more.The child became a man and the man married. His wife would have none of the otherworldly. Melusine visited less frequently and every time she pretended to have arrived on foot. All seemed well, except that the wife disliked the strange southern visitor. It became uncomfortable for everyone. Melusine reluctantly told her man-child that she must cease her visits.

The child became a man and the man married. His wife would have none of the otherworldly. Melusine visited less frequently and every time she pretended to have arrived on foot. All seemed well, except that the wife disliked the strange southern visitor. It became uncomfortable for everyone. Melusine reluctantly told her man-child that she must cease her visits.Their connection was such, however, that she knew when his last illness would overtake him. One last time she visited. She did not tell him that he was ill, but she noticed the way his minstrel Raimbert watched and noted.

Their connection was such, however, that she knew when his last illness would overtake him. One last time she visited. She did not tell him that he was ill, but she noticed the way his minstrel Raimbert watched and noted.The night before she left for the last time, her man-child called both her and Raimbert to wait upon him in his chamber. There he told them the truth of his second marriage.

The night before she left for the last time, her man-child called both her and Raimbert to wait upon him in his chamber. There he told them the truth of his second marriage.“I trusted my first wife the way I trust you,” and he turned his long, old face to Melusine’s. Melusine could still see the boy behind the beard and the lines and the failing health, and she mourned for the lack of length to a human life and for the loss of a friend. She didn’t tell him of her grieving, but nodded, courteously.

“I trusted my first wife the way I trust you,” and he turned his long, old face to Melusine’s. Melusine could still see the boy behind the beard and the lines and the failing health, and she mourned for the lack of length to a human life and for the loss of a friend. She didn’t tell him of her grieving, but nodded, courteously.“I loved her so much and I trusted her so very much that I told her of my wolf skin. Only the two of you know of it now. You, Raimbert, because I told you last week; you, my lady, because you gave it to me and saved me from running in wolf skin forever.”

“I loved her so much and I trusted her so very much that I told her of my wolf skin. Only the two of you know of it now. You, Raimbert, because I told you last week; you, my lady, because you gave it to me and saved me from running in wolf skin forever.”Raimbert’s eyes open wide with shock as he looked across at Melusine. She could see that he re-evaluated her youth and re-examined her for taint of the supernatural. After a moment, the assessment turned into a leer. Oh, how she hated the changes that the men of the church were causing to the way women walked and the way women breathed. She hated even more the way the great men claimed her kin as their ancestors, leaving a tempting trail of power for anyone who seduced or r***d the women of her kind.

Raimbert’s eyes open wide with shock as he looked across at Melusine. She could see that he re-evaluated her youth and re-examined her for taint of the supernatural. After a moment, the assessment turned into a leer. Oh, how she hated the changes that the men of the church were causing to the way women walked and the way women breathed. She hated even more the way the great men claimed her kin as their ancestors, leaving a tempting trail of power for anyone who seduced or r***d the women of her kind.“I can’t tell stories properly, so I’ll keep the rest of this very short.”

“I can’t tell stories properly, so I’ll keep the rest of this very short.”“My wife stole the tokens you gave me, my lady, the ones that enable me to return to human form. She stole first the plate and then the bowl and then the cloths and finally the knife. I was a wolf in the forest and my wife’s lover took my place as lord of this castle.”

“My wife stole the tokens you gave me, my lady, the ones that enable me to return to human form. She stole first the plate and then the bowl and then the cloths and finally the knife. I was a wolf in the forest and my wife’s lover took my place as lord of this castle.”He spat, to get the taste of her out of his mouth.

He spat, to get the taste of her out of his mouth.“The duke restored me to my own body, and since then I have not used the wolf skin even once. Right until the day of his death he tried to persuade me that I should go hunting with him, me in my wolf skin and him on his horse.”

“The duke restored me to my own body, and since then I have not used the wolf skin even once. Right until the day of his death he tried to persuade me that I should go hunting with him, me in my wolf skin and him on his horse.”“But you didn’t,” said Melusine, very softly.

“But you didn’t,” said Melusine, very softly.Raoul shook his head. “I did ask him to execute my wife. Which he did. Then I married again and begat an heir and lived my life as a human.”

Raoul shook his head. “I did ask him to execute my wife. Which he did. Then I married again and begat an heir and lived my life as a human.”“May I make this into a story?” Raimbert was still watching Melusine, but he directed his question at his lord. “Maybe a lai? It would make a very good lai.” His patron agreed, with a faint tilt of the head.

“May I make this into a story?” Raimbert was still watching Melusine, but he directed his question at his lord. “Maybe a lai? It would make a very good lai.” His patron agreed, with a faint tilt of the head.“Change it,” urged Melusine. “You should never tell the complete truth in a story.”

“Change it,” urged Melusine. “You should never tell the complete truth in a story.”She noticed that Raoul’s wife had slipped into the room while no-one was watching. She determined then and there not to return to the forest for three generations. Raoul would be gone, anyway: there was nothing for her to return for. Nothing and no-one.

She noticed that Raoul’s wife had slipped into the room while no-one was watching. She determined then and there not to return to the forest for three generations. Raoul would be gone, anyway: there was nothing for her to return for. Nothing and no-one.The storyteller nodded. “It demonstrates the art better to improve on the literal truth.”

The storyteller nodded. “It demonstrates the art better to improve on the literal truth.”“I wasn’t thinking that at all,” she said, quietly. “I was thinking that changes make the world a safer place. Stories that mimic reality too much are capable of changing it.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all,” she said, quietly. “I was thinking that changes make the world a safer place. Stories that mimic reality too much are capable of changing it.”“What do you mean?” asked Jeanne, Raoul’s pretty and sober wife.

“What do you mean?” asked Jeanne, Raoul’s pretty and sober wife.“Some of us carry ghosts around,” Melusine waved her arms as she sought to find words. “If we tell about them too directly, they can manifest. And here, in this forest, by telling a story too precisely you can call up that which you describe. This forest is a place that carries those impressions and turns them into reality. Some places are like that. Sometimes this is very good, and sometimes it is bad.”

“Some of us carry ghosts around,” Melusine waved her arms as she sought to find words. “If we tell about them too directly, they can manifest. And here, in this forest, by telling a story too precisely you can call up that which you describe. This forest is a place that carries those impressions and turns them into reality. Some places are like that. Sometimes this is very good, and sometimes it is bad.”“How can it be good?” Jeanne had been well trained in forest fears when she married Raoul.

“How can it be good?” Jeanne had been well trained in forest fears when she married Raoul.“My love, it was telling the story of Melusine that saved me from the forest that first time,” her husband said. “She was a very long way away and she heard me telling about her and she flew to my rescue.” Maybe, Melusine thought, the story would reshape itself and truth wouldn’t enter into it at all.

“My love, it was telling the story of Melusine that saved me from the forest that first time,” her husband said. “She was a very long way away and she heard me telling about her and she flew to my rescue.” Maybe, Melusine thought, the story would reshape itself and truth wouldn’t enter into it at all.“Oh!” and Jeanne’s hand flew to her mouth. She looked across at Melusine with sudden fear.

“Oh!” and Jeanne’s hand flew to her mouth. She looked across at Melusine with sudden fear.Melusine revised her estimate. Four generations, or maybe five. “I am a friend here, first and foremost. There is no enchantment binding me and no danger that should concern you.” Melusine was at her gentlest. “You are not like Raoul’s first wife, after all.”

Melusine revised her estimate. Four generations, or maybe five. “I am a friend here, first and foremost. There is no enchantment binding me and no danger that should concern you.” Melusine was at her gentlest. “You are not like Raoul’s first wife, after all.”“But you are . . . not human,” said the poet.

“But you are . . . not human,” said the poet.Melusine smiled at that, and Raoul chuckled. Jeanne’s hands were nervous and Raimbert’s eyes were still trying to send her entirely the wrong messages.

Melusine smiled at that, and Raoul chuckled. Jeanne’s hands were nervous and Raimbert’s eyes were still trying to send her entirely the wrong messages.When Melusine next visited, a glorious castle lay where the hall had stood and the favourite story told was of the Knight Bisclavret, whose evil wife had nearly forced him to remain a wolf forever. Melusine wondered ruefully as she wandered through the beech and oak trees what the story would have said if she had slept with Raimbert. That she was beautiful beyond belief, perhaps, and had hair of gold and skin the colour of new milk. That she was an ancestress to the great lords, definitely.

When Melusine next visited, a glorious castle lay where the hall had stood and the favourite story told was of the Knight Bisclavret, whose evil wife had nearly forced him to remain a wolf forever. Melusine wondered ruefully as she wandered through the beech and oak trees what the story would have said if she had slept with Raimbert. That she was beautiful beyond belief, perhaps, and had hair of gold and skin the colour of new milk. That she was an ancestress to the great lords, definitely.She would rather, she thought, remain Melusine, with dark hair and olive skin and no children at all.

She would rather, she thought, remain Melusine, with dark hair and olive skin and no children at all.“I’m out back!” Mabel called, and Kat tried to reach her. One side of the house was blocked off by a big dump of firewood, so she tried the other. She found Mabel (eventually) past the row of citrus, weeding the raised bed that formed a hexagon around the persimmon.

Mabel didn’t waste time on greetings. “Give me a hand,” she said.

“What if I pull plants up by mistake?” Mabel gave her an impromptu lesson in which plants were supposed to be in that bed and the two spent a happy hour silently working their way round the big tree.

When they had finished, Mabel said, “Now you’re on the way to becoming domesticated.” Kat snorted and then caught herself with embarrassment. Ladies did not snort, her mother would have said. Mabel didn’t seem to notice. Or if she noticed, she didn’t care a fig.

“Do you have a fig tree?” Kat asked.

“Just a little one, over there,” Mabel waved her arm wildly. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Do you know how to make scones?” Mabel asked.

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

“I don’t,” said Kat. Emboldened by the lack of formality she became brave. “Will you teach me?”

“Only if you help me eat them.”

“I bet you say that to all the little children.”

Mabel laughed, deeply and satisfyingly. “You haven’t been a little child for years, though, have you?” Kat heard no accusation in the comment, only acceptance. “Come inside and we’ll wash up.”

The scones were satisfyingly messy to make and satisfyingly afternoon tea-ish to eat. Over them, however, with a pot of tea between them that was so strong a teaspoon could stand in it (or so Mabel claimed), Kat’s hostess suddenly turned confiding.

“You know,” Kat said, sheltered behind a huge pale green teacup full of the brownest tea Kat had ever held, “I don’t know what I believe.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I believe a bit in what Lil does. Maybe half believe, mostly. Not sure. It’s not quite real, somehow. And I only half believe in what Ann says, ever.” Kat stated her half belief with great certainty.

“Half is enough, when it’s friends.”

Kat found this reassuring, and nodded, then she had an afterthought. “But don’t you see stuff? Don’t you do stuff?”

do“Probably. I don’t believe it afterwards. Not if I want to stay sane.” Mabel said this lightly, almost inconsequentially.

“I want to believe.”

“I know. You’re better off making scones. Ann squinting at the world is going to get her into trouble.”

“Magic trouble,” breathed Kat.

“No,” Mabel’s voice was as flat as the contradiction. “Every bloody day trouble. Watch her.”

Kat didn’t know whether to feel flattered or pleased that Mabel was telling such things. She’d crossed worlds. A few weeks she had been on the streets and now, now an old lady was talking to her as if she . . . belonged. It was strange. I’ll go with it, Kat decided. See what happens.

I’ll go with it,See what happens.“Why don’t you tell her?”

Mabel snorted, inelegantly. “I have. She doesn’t believe me. Belief is like that, you know. I half believe her: she believes what I say half the time.”

“And you’re still friends?”

“We are. We aren’t as close as we used to be. She thinks you’ll cement our friendship, bring the three of us closer again.”

“Oh.” Kat’s face suggested she wasn’t thrilled with this idea.

“Don’t let it worry you. Decide who you like and why. Let us have our ways.”

“And you don’t mind if I believe in magic?”

“God, you can believe in voodoo if you like. Just remember that it’s not straightforward.”

“It’s safe?”

“God, no.”

“Then why are you letting me in at all, if you only half believe and it’s not safe?”

“Because if it exists at all, then a bunch of old ladies need to pass on that knowledge. There are things that ought to be shared, and you’re young enough to learn to hear. You’re young enough to learn to see. And you’re old enough to have a bit of common sense. Not too young: not too old. Make up your own mind.”

“Ann isn’t so old.”

“Ann has her squinty eye, but she doesn’t understand a thing. And if you repeat that to her, I won’t teach you any more recipes. You don’t want to die without learning how to make sponge cake my special way.”

“I won’t tell her.”

“Don’t trust me, either.”

“Don’t trust you. Don’t trust Ann. Who can I trust? Lil?”

“If you can work out where she’s coming from, yes,” was Mabel’s surprising answer. Kat had been fully expecting her to say ‘Don’t trust anyone.’

“You won’t tell me?”

“Cripes, I don’t know. I trust her, and she’s one of my closest friends, but she’s got more secrets than my garden has worms. And — as you have seen — my garden is very healthy and has many, many worms. If you dig up a small patch, they will squirm and you will scream.”

“You’re hinting we should go back outside?”

“There’s still sunlight, isn’t there?”

Kat was still thinking about the dinner party. It helped that Lil had given her the dessert. “We all put on weight so easily,” she had said. “You’d better take this.” And Kat took it. And Kat ate it all for breakfast, every bit. No calling herself names. How could she be Badkat when Lil wanted her to eat that dessert?

And that dessert made Kat think. The taste of it took her right back to the night of her first dinner party with the three women.

Mabel had said something in passing. She had joked at Ann, “You started it.” Lil had been in the kitchen with Kat at that moment, and she had stopped. Her elegant face looked doubtful and quizzical both at once. She gave a sigh and the tableau broke.

After her strange breakfast, Kat knocked on the door of the main house. “Are you free?” she asked Lil. “I promise I won’t lose it today.”

Last week she had lost it gloriously and she had seen how Lil had looked at her. She had been comforted by Ann taking the emo moment in her stride and angry that Mabel gave her a ‘damn teenager’ look. For Lil, however, she felt a duty of care, as if this lady were fragile and needed to be surrounded by people of even temperament. It was the translucent quality of her skin, perhaps, or the softness of her voice, or her cat-like movements. Or maybe it was the feeling of coming home she sensed whenever Lil poured her a coffee. Lil moved like her real grandmother had. That was maybe it.

“Even if I slip up and call you a child?” Lil asked.

“Not even then.”

“Spill, then, while I put on some coffee.”

“Coffee, nom nom,” said Kat, and Lil laughed.

Soon they were sitting down and nibbling on chocolate ginger biscuits. I’m going to have such a sugar high, thought Kat, and I can feel my skin breaking out. This was reassuring. The world was extracting payment for the breakfast and morning tea and, if she had paid for it, she might be allowed to have it again. After all, as her mother had said, ‘The world owes you nothing, you get that?’

I’m going to have such a sugar high,and I can feel my skin breaking out. “I want to know more about what Ann was talking about at that dinner party the other night. It looked as if she was going to say a lot more things and it looked as if she was doing it on purpose. I need to know all about it.”

“You need?” Lil lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Kat was defiant. Dad had done the need vs. want thing with everything except birthday presents, and they were always rushed and botched and unimportant. Do you need this? No. You want. Want isn’t enough.

Do you need this? No. You want. Want isn’t enough.“That week is important to Ann. She truly doesn’t know what happened then. All she really knows is that she emerged with a bad eye. And that out of that bad eye she sees . . . things.”

“Things? Like fairies?”

“Like beings who don’t want to be seen.”

“Why was it important that she make a big announcement, then?”

“She was telling you.”

“She could’ve just said.” Kat was starting to get all bothered, and she’d promised Lil. She pulled herself together. “Was there a reason I had to know? Does she tell everyone?”

“I think that you and Mabel and I and her husband are the only ones who know. Mabel and I believe her, but her husband, no, he does not believe. He does not have any interest in believing.”

“Why me, then?” Kat didn’t sound angry anymore, but her chin jutted forward.

“Let me pour us fresh cups. I can’t explain in a sentence.”

When their cups were full of coffee and Kat had another biscuit, Lil began to speak. Her voice was so quiet and calm that Kat wondered whether she cared at all. Then Kat noticed Lil’s left hand, resting on the table. It had a very slight shake. Lil cared too much about this. Kat filed the information for later.

“We three have known each other for thirty years.”

“A long time,” said Kat. “My life by two.”

Lil looked into her cup, as if it held answers. “Maybe it is a long time; maybe it isn’t.” She took a deep breath before she continued. “Two decades ago, Ann told us about her experience and Mabel shared her own.”

“What was Mabel’s?”

“Ah, you should ask her. This sort of knowledge should not be shared lightly.” There was a silence. Kat couldn’t bring herself to ask if Lil had experiences too. Lil looked too frail.

“If you hate talking about it, I can manage,” Kat said.

“I can talk.” Lil’s mouth twisted ruefully. “We used to joke about the creatures that Ann saw out of her bad eye. Then Ann led us into the netherworld.”

The phone rang, the mood was broken, and Kat had to wait for the rest of the story.

Kat asked again. She prodded Lil into taking up where she had left off, but all Lil would say was, “Ask her about it.”

Before she could ask Ann about anything, Mabel requested her help in the garden again. “The wood’s gotta be shifted and it’s too much for my back. I get the boys to fix it when they deliver, but this year they forgot.”

“You could ask them again,” suggested Kat, looking at the huge woodpile. It was an awful lot of wood for one small girl to shift.

“If you don’t want the money, say so,” Mabel said.

“I don’t understand, though. If they pile it by the house every year, why did they just dump it this year?”

“Maybe they saw something.” Mabel shrugged.

“Oh!” said Kat. “That’s different.”

“Thought you’d say that,” grunted Mabel. “I want it stacked neatly, mind, and not too high. I want lots of air.”

“You want it dry and easy to reach.”

“Precisely.”

“Got it,” Kat said, and started work.

In the beginning there was vim and even vigour. Kat slung wood with a fine disregard for its capacity to chip at her hands and send splinters driving into her fingers. She stacked it quickly and precisely, creating the first layer of a wall that ran parallel to Mabel’s house, then starting the second with care and almost architectural proportions. She saw no contrast between flinging her whole body into things and yet building with such care. Her mind was completely at one with both parts of the woodstacking. It was as if she was born to woodstack.

Gradually, though, her zen woodstacking technique faded, to be replaced by a keen awareness. Kat was aware of vague aches under the skin and of a graze on her right forefinger. Her shoulders were beginning to bow over like Mabel’s ought to, if Mabel would only hold herself like a little old lady. Which she doesn’t, of course. Mostly, though, Kat’s head was hurting.

Which she doesn’t, of course. When a voice rang out from the back door, Kat was ashamed to admit relief. “Tea’s up!” was all Mabel had said, and Kat went indoors like an obedient child and made polite conversation until the aches faded and then she said, “Better get back to work,” in her best tradie tone. I sound like a plumber, she congratulated herself.

I sound like a plumber,“Tomorrow’ll do for the rest,” said Mabel.

“Nah,” said Kat, still channelling that mythical plumber. “Gotta get it done. Besides, tomorrow I’ll be dying of stiffness and backache and I want it done before I feel all the pain.”

Mabel nodded. “Matter of pride.”

“Yep,” said Kat, back to laconic tradie mode.

Kat had found a happy rhythm. Things hurt, but not as much as before. Her Great Wall of Split Wood was building up quite nicely and the pile was getting smaller and smaller. It was good. Kat felt sore but self-satisfied and each time she started a new layer, she would give herself a virtual glass of champagne. She was on her way to being well and truly virtually tiddled, when something jumped out of the woodpile. Kat shrieked.

Mabel came straight out and asked, “What is it?”

“There is something in the woodpile. It’s hairy. And monkey small. And it has human eyes. And it jumped out at me then jumped right back in again.”

“Oh dear,” said Mabel. “I’ll handle this.” She walked up to the sad remnants of wood and spoke clearly into it in the slow but firm voice one uses to an errant teenager.

“Off with you. I told you that you don’t belong here. D’you want me to get tough?” The creature peered out, looking up at Mabel as if she were his hope and his dream and his own deep glory. It shook its head, vehemently. “So scarper. Quick-smart!” And it did.

“It’ll be back,” Mabel said despondently. “Just as soon as it thinks I’m not watching. It likes to think it’s protecting the woodpile. It does this every bloody year. Only this time it came early and scared the boys.”

“Does everyone have critters protecting their woodpiles in Canberra?” Kat was enchanted at the thought.

“Nah, only the select few. And aren’t we the lucky ones.”

“You don’t sound as if you think it’s lucky.”

“How can I maintain disbelief with a boogieman protecting my bloody woodpile,” said Mabel, with as much dignity as she could muster. “Let’s have a cuppa so he can come back quietly and we can all pretend that this didn’t just happen.”

“I ache all over,” Kat said.

“Tea and cake will sort that out.”

On her way out, after tea and cake, Kat looked across to admire the beautiful stack of wood she had created. At one end of it, the wood had been rearranged so that it was dense and matted, stuck with tufts of grass. Kat was certain that two pairs of bright eyes looked out of it at her; one of those two sets of eyes glared. Kat was tempted to cross herself, but she said quite sternly, “This is not Buffy and I am not Catholic,” and took herself off as quickly as she could. Mabel’s disbelief was obviously not hers. Let Mabel deal with the things behind the woodpile, late in winter, when the wood ran out.

Two days later, Kat broached the matter of Ann with Ann herself.

It wasn’t straightforward. She didn’t like how Lil had become so delicate the further they had got into the conversation. ‘Further’ hadn’t been very far at all, either. It was obviously big stuff.

There had to be a way to get Ann to tell all. If she got all emotional, that would work. Ann responded to tears and fears. Maybe if she appealed to her generosity and shared the things she herself was scared about? That should be enough. After all, Ann wanted her to know about the week of being missing.

What scares me that I can talk about? Kat asked herself. The answer was not much. She dredged through her mind until she finally found something. She didn’t know if she wanted to tell anyone, but she so much wanted to know what was up with Ann that it was worth hurting a bit.

What scares me that I can talk about? Ann took her out for chai, every three days without fail. Kat knew Ann was keeping an eye on her, but it was a nice eye and besides Ann paid for the chai. Also, it made her feel sophisticated.

Over chai, Kat told Ann all about her nightmares. “It’s like I wake up, but I’m still asleep. And there’s something. It sits on my chest and I tell it to get off. It doesn’t. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. And it sits on me heavier and heavier and heavier and I’m suffocating and I can’t do anything.”

“What happens next?”

“I wake up. My heart is pounding and I feel really scared. I can’t go back to sleep for hours.”

“I think it sounds like night fears,” Ann said, sympathetically.

“There’s a name for it?”

“Yes.”

“Is it supernatural?”

“Sometimes it is. Mostly it’s an asthma attack or a magnesium deficiency or too much dinner too close to bed.”

“Oh. I wanted it to be special.”

“You’ve got to sort out whether it’s mundane first. Simple answers first. If they don’t work then you try the complex answers. If they don’t work then you start wondering if it could be . . . something else.”

“I’m fascinated by it,” Kat admitted. “I want it to be special.”

Ann nodded. “I was like that with my missing week. I wanted to be special, so I wanted it to be special.”

it“And you never did find out what happened?”

“I never did. I found something special because of it though.”

“Your eye?”

“Oh, more than that. After I told Lil and Mabel they told me their secrets and we started exploring hidden worlds. We’ve been doing that for a while now.”

“I want to explore.” She didn’t mention what had happened in Mabel’s garden.

“We shall see,” half-promised Ann. “It’s not always safe.”

“Huh,” Kat was nonplussed. How can a group of elderly women deal with Roswell stuff, she wondered. A moment later she wondered if Ann could read her mind. “If I didn’t have this vague capacity to sense spirits and odd afterimages, I wouldn’t be doing this,” she cautioned. Kat was fascinated — Ann looked a bit embarrassed about it. “I’m sort of the canary and Mabel and Lil and I all work together when things go wrong. This is not something to be done alone.”

Howcan a group of elderly women deal with Roswell stuff“What do you actually do?”

“It depends,” and Ann’s hands fluttered annoyingly vaguely. “This and that. We don’t ghost hunt or deal with spirits that belong here, as a rule. Lil says that the things I see all came with us Europeans. It’s a palimpsest laying over Canberra and we scrape it off so Canberrans can live in the real city.”

“But what does that mean?” Strange words and no real explanation. Kat wanted to beat her fist lightly on the table and engage in a little sulk, but she was being on her best behaviour. Even her best behaviour couldn’t stop her voice sounding a little whiny. She hated herself.

“I don’t really know what it means,” said Ann. Now she was obviously embarrassed. “I just accept it and do my share of the work. More than my share of the work. Lil has all the explanations.”

“Is there anything out there now? I mean, have you noticed anything special recently?”

“Recently, there’s been a lot.”

“What’s the scariest?”

“The streets shift a little. It’s as if they’re restless.”

“That’s not scary,” Kat scoffed.

Ann gave her a rueful smile. “You don’t drive.”

“Well, what about something that would scare me?”

“There isn’t a thing.”

“Tell me something that could happen then. A maybe.”

“Would a death portent scare you?”

“Ooh, yeah,” breathed Kat.

“I haven’t seen one though, and I don’t want to.”

“Much better,” Kat said.

“Have you heard of a barguest?”

“You mean someone who is someone else’s guest at a bar?”

“No, I mean a big black dog with a coat so shaggy it can never be groomed. A dog with giant saucer eyes that sometimes shine with red fire. If you see the barguest, then someone will die.”

“That’s my sort of spirit,” said Kat, contentedly.

Tales of Melusine #985

Tales of Melusine #985Once someone gave Melusine a gift. It was when she was young.

Once someone gave Melusine a gift. It was when she was young.“What were your christening gifts?” a stranger had asked her.

“What were your christening gifts?” a stranger had asked her.“I had none,” Melusine had said. She was about to explain that she was Jewish, but the stranger was not listening.

“I had none,” Melusine had said. She was about to explain that she was Jewish, but the stranger was not listening.“I give you the gift of safety,” the stranger said. “Though your path may take you through terror, that terror will not destroy you.”

“I give you the gift of safety,” the stranger said. “Though your path may take you through terror, that terror will not destroy you.”“That’s a very generous gift,” Melusine said, politely.

“That’s a very generous gift,” Melusine said, politely.“Is it?” asked the stranger. “I do not give that gift to your friends, or to your children, or to any others of your kind. Only to you. Will safety seem so generous when you travel alone?”

“Is it?” asked the stranger. “I do not give that gift to your friends, or to your children, or to any others of your kind. Only to you. Will safety seem so generous when you travel alone?”Kat was bored and decided to drop in on Ann. Ann’s husband was there and the two had obviously been arguing. Kat could smell the miasma of a household quarrel. She pretended everything was hunky-dory. She had to do the polite, now she was here.

Ann needed someone to hide behind and Kat’s pretend blindness made her the person. She found herself trapped in an orgy of giving.

“I’m cleaning stuff out,” Ann explained. “And I’d much rather it went to a friend than in a garage sale or to a stranger.” She’d much rather keep me round while her husband is sulking by the TV, Kat read, and this is her excuse. But the stuff was good stuff and useful stuff and in nice condition and the longer she lived in Lil’s place the more Kat realised how few her possessions were. And Ann was persuasive, oh so persuasive. “Take this off my hands,” she would say. “Can’t you see what a mess the cupboard is? Getting rid of this means that everything will fit in just so, and I shall be the happier for it.”

She’d much rather keep me round while her husband is sulking by the TVand this is her excuseIt took both of them to take everything to the car and it took Kat two loads to empty the back seat once Ann had dropped her home. She felt spoiled and special, even though she knew she really should have said no to everything.

“You spent today with Ann,” Lil commented, as they passed on the way to their respective doors, Lil laden with groceries and Kat with Ann’s throwaways.

“How did you know?” Kat was hoping to find some magic involved.

“She gives presents.” Lil shrugged. “She has a generous spirit in that way.”

“In that way?”

“Ann gives gifts of material goods. Mabel gives gifts of a subtler type. Both of them are kind women.”

“And you?”

“I outgrew kindness a very long time ago.” Lil was laughing, but Kat wondered.

Lil was hiding stuff.