onsdag den 17. juni 2020

WfW -17 June - Flying Lessons

Countdown: Summer vacation begins in 10 days.


Now, all June, Messymimi is posting the prompts. Today we are given: 

brush
soar
distribute
allowance
debt
elegant

And this photo, which I'm sure is the beach on the island where my Unicorn Farm was placed.


     The day had come. Martine and Marie-Louise greeted the green team as they gathered for the morning's lesson. Martine, who today was dressed in practical brown slacks and a yellow patterned blouse, instead of her usual kimono, spoke: "Today you are going to have your first flying lessons, Marie-Louise is helping out here today because I have an inkling I'm going to need more than two hands teaching you all how to fly," she said. "Follow me!"
  And they all followed Martine and M-L, as the rotund, smiling and eminently practical teacher was fondly known to the apprentices, to a small shed to the south of the Farm buildings proper. "This is, as you probably already know, our broomshed," she said pulling a long chain with a big bronze key from her pocket. "In here all the school brooms are parked. You'll each be assigned a broom. It is yours to use during flying lessons, races, outings and all school activities as long as you're apprentices here. Remember where it's placed. I know, of course, but I'm not going to follow you down here every time you need a broom."
  The broomshed was long and narrow with small windows at irregular intervals along both sides. Also along both sides rows of brooms were evenly distributed. The brooms were held by chains to pegs and timber frames placed between them. Above each broom a name, a number or a symbol was etched on a plaque, but without any discernible system or reason. Most of all the shed resembled some kind of strange stable. Each apprentice was assigned to a broom and asked to remember its placement relative to doors, windows and other stable interiors. "It's no use trying to remember the name or whatever is on the plaques over your slot," Martine said with amusement shining through her voice. "They are apt to change at random times by some system as yet unknown to us."
  As each of them had freed the that was to be their broom from the chains, Martine showed them how to carry it. "Grasp the broom a handspan or two below the middle of the handle. The equilibrium point is situated there, but wear of the brush and handle have altered the brooms slightly, so you'll have to learn individually just where it is. "Anna, you have to use your right hand." At Anna's protests she said: "Yes I know some of us use our left hand better, but the brooms are particular, and when we stand in line and start together, the brooms would tangle if some used their left hand. We just have to learn," she said.
  When all had found the right place, Martine had them carry the brooms out into the meadow. There she faced the 10 apprentices, and spoke again: Now you say: 'Fylgdu!' and the broom will tag along just to the right of you. No need to hold on to it, but do, if it makes you feel better." Most of the apprentices, and all from non-magic families kept a hand on the broom while they walked down to the beach.
  Down at the beach a track was staked off with dry stems of sand ryegrass, small pieces of driftwood and suchlike, rather narrow and long, and in the end farthest away it expanded to give place for a big driftwood log.
  "The idea is that you practise mounting flying and dismounting here at the beach. It is at its broadest here, the sand is soft to land on when you fall off, and if you happen to drift out over the water, we have the shallowest part with no big stones in it ahead of us. At the end of this lesson, I expect every one of you to fly down the staked course, turn back by flying around that log and return back here. Grasp hold of your broomsticks now again, and M-L go to the middle of the line." They all moved a bit further to give room for M-L in the middle, five on each side.
  Once again Martine faced the apprentices. She looked at her own broom and said: "Fljúgðu! - This means fly! You do the same. These brooms are predisposed to do their tricks, so, no special gestures or inclinations are needed, just the word."
  The apprentices all repeated the magic word. And Martine looked satisfied as all brooms rose slightly. "Now that your broom is airborne, it's just a question of mechanics. Shift your grasp to higher up on the handle, near the top. Hold your broomstick upright in your right hand, Bend your knees and hold your left hand ready. At the count of three, you grasp the broom with your left hand as well, swing over your right leg and kick off. Like this," she said and suited action to words. She hovered just above the sand and added: "Think of the broom as some strange bike, it's the same mechanics. Well almost. A bike goes forwards, right and left, only seldom backwards. On a broom you add the extra dimension of up and down. But this is a case of learning buy doing. Ready! Einn, tveir, þrír." And all the green apprentices mounted their brooms in the prescribed fashion. They were more or less elegant, but all were airborne. Of course Veronika could just soar through the air, although she was not as good on a broom as her sister Fiona, she was better than any of the other from the green team. It was strange, that neither Fiona nor Veronika had had any inkling that they were witches until a few weeks ago. Fiona looked almost as if she had been born on a broomstick,
M-L on the other hand, was not fabulous on a broomstick. In truth she was the proverbial country witch, proficient in everything, but never excellent. To make up for this, she had both hands put on the right way, She had gentle, yet strong hands, she seemed to always be able to fix this and that, and no-one could swipe a table, clean a room or do any other domestic chore faster or more efficient than her. She was always in the exact right spot at the exact right time, She was out here now, helping Martine teaching the green team. She was better at this than Martine, even tough she was not born to magic parents, or maybe it was because of this, M-L was better at explaining.
  And Martine and M-L had a busy time, rescuing apprentices and fetching brooms that had dropped their riders, and now went their own ways. Once they even had to fly out together to prevent Terje from drowning when his broom set to sea and dropped him far from land.
  After some initial trouble, Susan got the hang of flying. Martine had been right, it was much like a bike. Leaning right made you turn left leaning back made you go up, and the opposites worked as well. The hardest part was the legs, where to put them? She had no pedals, no use for them really, and that was what led her into trouble as well. She tried backpedalling, but of course the broom just continued ahead and to the left at a steep angle and suddenly looped, and then Susan was dangling in her arms only. M-L was nearby and flew close. "Pull the tip of the handle down, land and mount again!" she encouraged Susan, who was actually able to steer the broom while dangling. Escorted by M-L she landed and re-mounted the broom.
  Flying was doable, but not much fun, Susan thought. She suspected that she would never come to enjoy flying on a broom the same way as riding her bike. But she could do it. When her turn came, she flew the track with no mishaps, turned at the log and flew back. "To dismount," Martine said, " you just land on the ground with both feet, swing your left leg over the broom, and stand as when you began. The word  'Fylgdu!'  will make the broom follow you again, and the sentence 'Takk fyrir ferðina!' -Thanks for the ride! will deactivate your broom. Try it!"
  Susan said: "Takk fyrir ferðina." and the broom was once again only an old fashioned sweeping implement. "Fylgdu!" made it stay at her side, and she placed her hand at the worn balance point. Back in the broom shed they all deactivated the brooms, grabbed the small brushes placed in each stall and used this to straighten the broomstraws, removing twigs, seaweed, sand and whatnot, wiped down the handle with a soft cloth dipped in some concoction, "You'll learn to make this later, as a part of your alchemy lessons," Martine said. "Now you're done. Go stretch your legs with some of Jon's limbering exercises, or you'll be sore tomorrow, wash and where needed dry your self and put on dry clothes," she looked at Terje, Kalle and Anna, who all had been thrown into the water. "Dinner will be ready in three quarters of an hour or so. Well flown!"

7 kommentarer:

  1. Well flown - and well written.
    Many, many thanks. I was there with them. And the part of me which wasn't is filled with envy.

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    1. Thank you. It's so nice to know that you enjoy what I write.

      Slet
  2. This is lovely. I used to wish I could fly on a broom, but now, like Susan, I would be wondering what to do with my legs.

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    1. I'm sorry if I just bungled up your flying lessons ;)

      Slet
  3. Even if it wouldn't be a lot of fun, it would certainly be a practical way to get around. Very well written!

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    1. I'm quite sure this reflects Susan's sentiments on flying. Thank you.

      Slet
  4. Yes, quicker than a bicycle I would think, even if it isn't your chosen mode. Not only that you don't have to stick to the roads. I wonder why Eleuthera doesn't have a broom?

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