This Wednesday's - 24th February - words was a compilation of
funny-sounding words from Alex J. Cavanaugh, published at Elephant's
Child's blog.
I'm proud to tell that I only had to look up two of
them. But then I almost did not use any of them, only three ... well
this sounds good for a continuation of this tale at least. These stricken words were used in Birch Manor 1 &2.
Guacamole
Ninja
Lollygag
Malarky
Skedaddle
Piffle
And/or
Berserk
Earwig
Fiasco
Gazebo
Huzzah
Nitwit
Thingamajig
Pandemonium Continuing
the story of the rediscovering of magic - and using three more words."They say on the internet that we'll have sunshine all day tomorrow," Susan said over the evening coffee. The living room they sat in was almost cleared of things. The shelves were empty, the chairs stood in small groups, and the piano were empty too. No lamp, no bust of Chopin or the other small souvenirs usually placed there. On the other hand, moving boxes stood in stacks on the entire floor. "Books A-E" in Susan's clear handwriting could be read on the bottom box.
"Yes?" said Knud questioning, "Where do you want to go with that?"
"It will be so good when we're unpacking at Birch Manor," Susan said. "This moving chaos looks so sad, so sad."
Knud could see into the kitchen from where he sat at the table. There too everything was packed away in crates. On the kitchen table stood only what they had used for dinner, and a lot of glasses, waiting for moving day, when the kids should come and help carry out everything.
"You're right. I'm also looking forward to getting in order, and to explore the surroundings."
"Yes, but tomorrow ..." Susan hesitated. "Shouldn't we take another day off and go to Hundested, to Fiona's place or to Funen and look for Martine?"
"If you whip up a batch of cakes, while I clear the table and do the dishes ... Well, no everything is put into crates already. We should be able to buy some cakes along the way. Let's go to Funen. Even with sunshine, it is not warm enough for a stroll along the harbour in Hundested yet. Fiona must wait," Knud said.
***
Next morning, Susan and Knud boarded the very first bus through their village. They sat together in the train and read. "What if she do not recognize us at all?" Susan asked with a worried frown. "You will only be taken care of in a nursing home if you are completely demented."
"Or if you have no one to take care of you," Knud countered. "According to me, she should be around 80 and that does not necessarily imply dementia."
"I hope you're right," Susan said sincerely.
***
When they got off the train, Knud realized that Susan had taken her old, brown suitcase along. "Oh, you're carrying that one along! Are you going to dress Martine in your old skirt or what?"
"Perhaps," Susna replied. "In fact, it is probably mostly because I don't want to leave all the wizarding things at home. Everything is in here. Our wands, yes, yours too, the handbook with
Cantrippes for everyday use, remember that one? Newspaper cuttings, my skirt and your pants, they were Helge's pants, I think, so we have proof that they also work on a wizard who is not the owner."
"You are smart, Susan," said Knud with praise in his voice. "Look there is a baker."
They bought some cakes and a good smelling, still warm spelt-flour bread, which they carefully put into Knud's backpack.
"The nursing home should be at the end of the main street, facing the water" Knud said after consulting the map.
"There is it! What a beautiful, old building," Susan said surprised. "Most nursing homes are modern horrors, this looks like people actually live inside."
Inside, at the front desk a young girl was lolligagging. She looked amazed when Susan and Knud entered. "Does the bell not work again?" she asked confused.
"I suppose not," Susan replied, "no one answered."
"Well, OK," she shook her head in confusion. "You can't help it. Who are you here to visit?"
"Martine Haugen," Knud answered.
"Oh how wonderful," the young girl replied. "She never gets visitors, we feel sorry for her. Are you family?"
"No," Susan replied. "She is our old teacher, we thought she had went home to Norway, and we only recently found out that she was still in Denmark."
"Then I'd like to warn you," said the young girl who now no longer looked bored or sleepy. "She was in a terrible accident many years ago." She is lame from the chest down. But her head is in fine working order. I'll get someone to take you there." She rang a bell.
"Thank you for the warning," Susan said and smiled at the girl. "We knew her as a physically very active lady, so it must have been hard for her."
"You have visitors, Martine," the nurse said loudly. "I'll bring you some coffee in a little while."
Martine sat in an electric wheelchair in front of the window and looked out over the fjord. She turned around when they entered the room.
Knud closed the door after the nurse, and Susan extended her hand towards the old lady in the wheelchair. It was not easy to see that the white-haired, sad looking lady was Martine. Under the sunshine yellow spread both legs were cut off just above the knees, the arms were thin and not quite straight, and it looked as if her spine had been damaged in the accident as well. She also looked more Asian than Susan remembered, but then she remembered that someone had told her that Martine's grandmother had been Japanese.
"Good day Martine," Susan said. "My name is Susan and this is Knud. We are your old students from the Unicorn Farm. Do you remember us?"
A sad smile spread over Martine's wrinkled face: "Susan and Knud! Yes, you bet I do remember you. You were two of the most hopeless students I ever had the pleasure of teaching. But it has been long indeed. I have not been able to teach for many years! "
The nurse came in with a coffee and three cups: "Did you bring something for the coffee?" she asked kindly. "Otherwise we may have a piece of cake left from the birthday yesterday."
"We have brought some cakes, but thanks for the offer," replied Knud.
He waited until she had gone out and closed the door after her.
"Nice people here, but they are lacking a little where good manners are concerned. She obviously never learned to knock," Knud said laughingly. "But you don't go around snaking out like a ninja either?"
"It's no laughing matter," Susan said sternly. "But frankly Martine. How many legs do you need to fly a broomstick?"
Martine looked shocked and dried away a tear. "Fly. I only do that in my dreams." She sniffled. "Do you really remember how it was at the Unicorn Farm? I thought it was only Thora and me who could. We tried to contact a couple of the old apprentices, but it was no success. Those we could find, could not Remember anything, and most were dead. It was so depressing. I actually think Thora found you two as well. You have lots of kids, don't you?"
Knud nodded, and was about to talk, but Martine interrupted him. "No, let me talk before I lose my courage. I'm not bitter, no, but I have resigned. The hope of magic died with Thora. She and I, we could talk. We could remember, remember how it was to be able to work magic. We just couldn't do any magic. It didn't work any more. The magic was gone."
Susan opened her mouth, but Knud put a hand on her arm and she remained silent.
Martine continued: "But Susan, actually you are right. I could fly with these stumps. But I can't. First of all, my hands and arms are not strong enough, the accident did that too. Secondly, the magic no longer works, as I already said. Gilvi and his Mondrian delivered as promised. They have all died, Only not me, and the magic died with them. But now you are here and Remember the Unicorn Farm. How much do you remember? I would give everything to be able to do magic again. It would be so much easier. But blast it. It's impossible. And imagine what the nice nurses here would say if I suddenly landed in the dining room on my broomstick."
Martine began to laugh, a hysterical laughter that turned in to crying.
Susan opened her brown suitcase and picked up her wand.
"Martine! Listen to me!" she said harshly. "The magic is not dead. Look at me!" She swung the wand and the sparks flew.
"What ... How ..." Martine stopped.
"We believe that the key is our old pants and skirts. Do you dare to try?"
"What do I have to lose?" Martine asked. She turned the wheelchair away from them, blowing her nose and drying her eyes.
Susan took her skirt from the suitcase and extended it. Martine slowly and shakenly advanced her crippled hand and touched the skirt. A disbelieving smile spread on her face.
"Yes, it works. I can feel the magic waking inside of me. It's amazing! But my magic wand, where has it gone?"
"Dear Martine," Susan said. "All the wands stopped working at that time, they broke, splintered or disappeared. I still have the sad remnants of my old wand in the brown suitcase. But I'm a wandsinger! Tell me what tree your wand came from, then I can sing you a new one."
"My wand was made from spruce. Norway's National Tree. Don't you remember the old inscription: 'Beech for Denmark, Birch for Sweden, Spruce for Norway, Juniper for Finland and Rowan for Iceland'," quoted Martine, and Susan remembered the old verse.
Knud suddenly smiled a cunning smile: "I'm sure you remember Fiona." Martine nodded so energetically that she almost made the coffee spill. "In addition to being good at flying ..." continued Knud,
"And was she!" Martine said with emphasis.
"... she was great at healing magic. And today she is healer and painter in Hundested. We must find her, and then we must make her visit you. Or the other way around."
"Martine, we need you!" Susan said earnestly. "We want to create a new school. We will revive the magic once again. And you know and remember so much more than we do. Could we persuade you to move closer to us?"
"I'm totally overwhelmed," Martine said. "You have opened new opportunities and new roads for me in the years I thought was the courtyard of death. Now I have to tell you something. In a month, yes on May 17th, it is my 80th birthday. I meant to celebrate it all alone ... And then afterwards I had fully intended to put an end to it all, but now ... How many apprentices do you think you can gather and 'awaken' or what you might call it? And can I move to Zealand. If I could do magic and be able to fly, then I could move into a house of my own." Martine was still smiling. She looked younger for every minute.
"Shouldn't we take a walk outside? Maybe we can find a spruce along the way? Just you don't let anyone discover what malarkey we've put you up to!"
"I was not born yesterday," Martine replied, with a glimpse of her old teacher's voice. Susan and Knud smiled at each other behind her back, and followed Martine's wheelchair into the park-like garden.
