The Hanged Man: Part 9: Lughnasadh
The Hanged Man: Part 9: Lughnasadh
Post #93: In which community harvest ...
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Maria was petting the rabbits.
She’d never kept rabbits before, but she loved their gentle company. They were housed near the chickens, and she made a habit of visiting the hutch with a handful of late flowers or grass every morning after gathering eggs.
As she stood at the hutch, watching the rabbits munch and enjoying their soft coats, something bumped against her ankle. She looked down and saw one of the cats, who had come with the villagers.
“For heaven’s sake! Where on earth did you come from?”
She squatted to pet him. Leaf green eyes regarded her and he arched his back under her fingers. His bib and mustache were white and clean.
“Cat!”
Maria scooped the cat into her arms. He at once began to purr loudly, rubbing his cheek against her chin.
Heks had been cleaning out the goats and dumped a bucket of waste and soiled bedding into a large square compost bin made with wood and cord.
“Cat!” she called again. “Where did you get to?”
“He’s here,” said Maria.
“Oh, good. I was afraid he was getting ideas about the chickens and rabbits.”
“He was more interested in getting attention from me,” said Maria, setting the cat down gently. A grasshopper jumped and he pounced, eyes intent and tail waving.
“Juliana had a cat,” said Maria. “I wonder what happened to him. She called him Ranger.”
“The young couple who moved into her house are taking care of him.”
“I’m glad. It’s hard to think of her life scattered and disassembled.”
“It’s not,” said Heks. “Everything is still there. Her loom, her furniture, her bed and kitchen. We cleaned up her garden, but that’s all we needed to do. I took a shawl I found draped over her chair in front of her fireplace. Somehow, it spoke to me and I brought it with me.”
Maria felt a pang of grief. “May I see it?” she asked.
Heks looked surprised. “Of course.”
Heks had not yet made any plans for winter shelter. Maria knew she still slept by the fire. They made their way toward Gabriel’s wagon, which was covered against the weather and sheltering under the trees. Gabriel had begun building a wooden house for himself.
He came to meet them, inquisitive as a child. Heks rummaged in the cart while Maria and Gabriel talked. Heks put the folded shawl in Maria’s hands and she shook it out gently. There it was, cream banded with pink, brown, green and a hint of blue. Gold and silver hairs gave it a subtle shimmer, and the two shades of purple wandered through the pattern.
Maria remembered Juliana draping it around her shoulders, proud as a queen, and tears fell down her cheeks.
“I made this for her,” she said.
***
“Gold rope tell,” said Cassandra firmly to Rapunzel.
They sat around the evening fire. It was quite a crowd, Maria thought. It was the one time in the day they all gathered in the same place. She knew Rapunzel had no desire to be the center of attention and was amused at her expression. She plainly wished Cassandra would shut up.
Rapunzel glanced around, as though trying to find a distraction.
“I agree,” said Dar loudly. “What about you, Gold Rope?” He grinned mockingly at her.
Rapunzel scowled at Dar. Maria knew he was determined to hear about her ugly face. She’d held him off, not because she cared if he knew, but for the satisfaction of refusing to satisfy his curiosity. “He gets his way more often than is good for him,” she’d told Maria. However, now Rapunzel appeared to resign herself and began to speak.
Maria was the only one who knew about Alexander and the stone tower, so there was rapt attention. Once begun, Rapunzel appeared to enjoy telling the tale, though Maria noticed she left out the part about collecting Alexander’s eyes. As she paused, Demeter said, “I know your mother.”
“You do?” Rapunzel looked amazed.
“I do. She’s looking for you.”
“She found me. I’ll tell you. But…can we talk sometime?”
“Of course.”
Rapunzel recounted the marble game between Baba Yaga and Odin and her subsequent discovery of her changed looks.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Persephone.
Rapunzel stopped. “What?”
“I know this story. Baubo told it to me ages ago, when I first arrived in Hades.”
“But it only happened this spring!”
“’Once upon a time not yet come and long ago,’” quoted Persephone, laughing.
Rapunzel snorted and took up the story, stopping at the point where she and Cassandra fell in with Dar, Lugh and Mary.
“I’ve wondered about that ever since the day we met you!” said Mary from her chair.
“A handy trick,” said Dar.
Heks spoke up, surprising them all. She rarely said anything around the fire, though she was always there.
“Is that true?” she asked seriously. “What a woman wants is to stand in her own power?”
“Is it true for you?” inquired Dar.
Heks thought, expressionless, neat, self-contained.
“Yes,” she said at last, cautious.
Ginger spoke up from her place next to Radulf.
“It’s true for me. That says it exactly.”
“It’s not just true for women,” said Radulf. “I think men want it, too. I do.”
There were male murmurs of assent and nods.
“When Baubo gave me this story,” said Persephone, “she was talking to me about choosing my own power, being clear about what I want and what I can do to achieve it.”
“People tell us what we can choose — how it has to be. The Baba told me I could choose one thing or another. She didn’t say I couldn’t make the choice for both, but she didn’t say I could, either. I had to choose for myself, without accepting implied or imposed limitations,” said Rapunzel.
“It’s hard to want,” said Rosie. “Sometimes I feel like it’s wrong to want something, and too hard to ask. What if what you want is wrong…or bad? Or what if you can’t have it? Sometimes it seems easier and safer to just stay in confusion about what you do want.”
“But then you never get to live the life you truly want,” said Ginger.
“That doesn’t work,” said Radulf firmly. “It’s better to know who you are and what you want, even if you can’t get it. Otherwise, you hurt yourself and people around you.”
“You miss wonder and joy if you don’t let yourself want,” said Rose Red softly. “But it can be hard. You’re braver than I am, Rapunzel.”
Rapunzel snorted. “More stubborn, maybe,” she said, “but sometimes I don’t want to want, either. I know what you mean.”
“Who’s next?” asked Dar. “This wench’s tale is told!”
Rapunzel gave him a playful slap.
***
“Maria?”
She squatted in the chicken coop, feeling under a hen for eggs. The hen squawked, sounding insulted, and pecked.
“Yes?” answered Maria, and then, to the hen, “All right, all right. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” said Ginger.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s the grouchiest hen I’ve ever known. She’s not laying well, either, but I suppose between the time of year and her recent change of household, I can’t blame her.”
“Are you finished?”
“Yes. Only six today. Let’s put these in the root cellar.”
After depositing the eggs, the two women walked down to Maria’s stone house. It was a cloudy, cool day, and they sat inside in front of the fire.
“I want to ask you if I could stay here at Rowan Tree — please?” said Ginger in a rush.
Maria laughed. “I’m relieved. I was prepared to beg you!”
“Beg me?”
“Certainly. We need you, Ginger. We need you to lead us in dance. There’s no one else here who can give us that. I’m determined that both men and women at Rowan Tree enjoy a place to gather, learn and practice ritual privately. Now I’ve experienced the power of dance, I never want to lose it. We need it and we need you to lead us and teach us.”
Ginger couldn’t speak.
“There are several houses nearly finished,” said Maria briskly. “I’m sure someone can let you have a room. It won’t be like a castle, you know.”
“Thank goodness. I don’t want a castle. I just want a small space to call my own. And I want to work — learn to cook or take care of animals, or something useful.”
“I don’t suppose you’d consider staying here — with me?” Maria gazed into the fire.
“Here? But…do you have room?” Ginger looked around at the space. She sat in one of two chairs in front of the fire. A loom stood under a wide south window. There was a table. That was all. Through a doorway was a room just big enough to accommodate a bed with a shelf next to it.
“I intend to enlarge this place and do more next year. This was just to get me through the winter. With Gwelda helping, we could add another bedroom before snow flies.”
“I don’t know what to say,” said Ginger.
“I’ve been alone a long time,” said Maria. “I haven’t had a close woman friend. I know you’re used to living with your sisters, and perhaps you’d find it too quiet down here by the river. Maybe you’d like to be up in the thick of things, closer to the others?”
“No.” Ginger shook her head. “No, Maria. I want peace — and time. I’d love to stay with you. Thank you.”
“Good. As soon as you’re settled, I’ll teach you about chickens and we’ll learn together how to keep rabbits, all right?”
“It seems too good to be true.”
“Someone told me once everything we’re seeking is also seeking us. I’m glad we found one another.”
MIRMIR
“Rowan Tree,” murmured the Hanged Man. “It seems so long ago, so far away.”
“Not sso long,” hissed Mirmir.
“I remember one night when Dar played his flute and Cassandra came … She understood the burden of the wheel. I wept with her …”
“Yess,” said Mirmir. “Lissten …”
“Dar played his flute in the autumn night. Eurydice and Kunik heard in Eurydice’s shelter at Rowan Gate. Rose Red heard as she lay with Rowan on a bed of oak leaves. Morfran and Sofiya heard as they floated in owl form above Rowan Tree. Maria heard in her sleep, and thought the river sang in two childish voices. The horses, in a loose companionable cluster, pricked their ears, listening, as they dozed and grazed. Demeter heard the sweep of increase and the receding footsteps of decrease. Persephone heard and moved a caressing hand over breast, belly, hip and coarse curling hair. Soon…soon she would meet Hades at the Underworld’s gate. Heks heard and wondered at the waste of aging body and heart, the futility of desire.
Lugh sat with his back against a tree, clasping his knees. He watched Dar, pacing and playing, his cloak looking like a flowing shadow as he moved. Lugh looked across the grouped horses, over the bend of dim river. He could see dark crisscrossed lines of fences and sheds against the grassy hill. It was a good place here. They’d do well. He’d helped them lay the foundation of future harvest, but that was another cycle, yet to come. Now was his time. Now was his place. Mary was rested and blooming. He ached for the feel of a scythe in his hand. It was time for blade, sweat, basket, hook. It was time for earth, for dust, for stubble that pierced the skin. It was time for wasp, for bird-stabbed fruit, for aching shoulders and back. It was time for dust and chaff, cool water in a stone bottle, a bead of blood released from a slipped knife. The final sacrifice approached.
Dar stopped playing. He leaned against a nearby tree, nearly invisible in the dark. He was watching something on the hill. Lugh saw it too, a moving shadow in the night. Someone approached.
She was so quiet. She moved like a humble night wind that stirs, no more than a breath, among the thick heads of grass. She came to rest next to Lugh, while Dar stood above them, tree shadow and cloak mingling, watchful.
“Green and gold,” she crooned, laying her head on Lugh’s arm. “Green and gold, honey and milk, blood and bone.” She ran a caressing hand over the wool cloak, feeling rasp and round of charm, bead, golden thread.
“Always you hang between life and death,” she whispered. “Always the tide takes you, whether you would go or not. Always the wheel turns in your wake, and your life greases the turn. Gold fish, goat-foot piper, Seed Bearer, green and gold man. All men and none. Holy Shadow and flesh and blood and seed. Harvest calls your name. Blade waits. Earth demands renewal. Snake collects stories. Your seed cries out from dark sea, waiting for salty red tide. The great tree diminishes, thread by thread, and Webbd unravels in the wind of change.”
Lugh came into her arms and she felt his chest heave. In starlight her face was mother, lover, prophet and crone. He wept against her breast and she smoothed his bright hair, swaying, his heavy body clasped firmly, and crooned, ‘There, there. There, there. There, there,’ until his weeping ended and the three of them were quiet in the slowly turning night.”
***
RAPUNZEL
“I’ve been thinking,” said Rapunzel to Dar.
“Me, too.”
“I’d like to travel with you when you leave — just a short way.”
Dar shot her a look.
“Don’t worry. I’ve no intention of attaching myself to you or anyone else, idiot. I only want to go to the nearest town.”
“No.”
“No?” her face flushed.
“No. This fall we’re both staying here. We’ll help them. There’s a lot to do before snow flies. We’ll stay here for the winter and then in spring we’ll gather whatever might be sold, compile an enormous shopping list and go out and peddle.”
“That’s not what I want to do,” she said in automatic rebellion.
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not!”
“Then what do you want to do, oh Ugly One?” He grinned at her.
“I want to choose for myself!” she said fiercely.
“So, choose.” He raised his eyebrow and waited.
“I will,” she said tersely.
They walked through trees. Afternoon waned and cooled. Dar wore his cloak and Rapunzel had pulled a man’s navy blue knit sweater over her head from Dar’s stores. She felt like a child playing dress up; the hem hung halfway down to her knees. It kept her warm, though.
He looked at her critically. “Don’t snag that. It’s inventory.”
“I like it. You wouldn’t want to give it to me as a parting gift, would you?”
He snorted, but she saw him smile.
“Are you really staying here all winter?”
“I’ll be taking Mary and my brother on before the snow flies,” said Dar, “but I plan to come back.”
“What will you do next summer, then, after this enormous shop of yours?” she asked curiously, dropping her teasing tone. “Will you stay here?”
“If I wanted to stay anywhere it would be here,” he said, “but I belong on the road. It’s what I love — seeing new places, meeting people, collecting stories.”
“Are you never lonely?”
“I love my freedom.”
“That’s not what I asked you,” she snapped, irritated by his evasion.
“Are you ever lonely?” he returned, an edge in his voice.
“I meet all kinds of people out in the world. I can see the sky. I don’t need to follow any rules.” Hastily, to intercept the “Ha!” she saw on his face, “What about your brother?”
“What about Cassandra?” he countered.
“Oh, didn’t you know? She’s coming with you!”
He stopped. She laughed.
“Oh, ha ha,” he said, walking on. “Why are you so difficult?”
Catching his eye, she changed into her ugly face and scowled.
He turned on his heel, grabbed her by the arms and kissed her soundly.
She shoved him hard in the chest with both hands, but not before she’d returned the kiss.
“Every time you put on that face, I feel an irresistible urge to kiss you,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s stand on one of the shed roofs and …”
“Oh, stop it,” she said, without heat.
They walked on down the slope. The first stars glimmered. Dar’s cloak furled in the breeze and a spray of sparks rose and fell as wood popped in the fire.
People were grouped around the flames. Mary’s bulky figure sat in a chair. Cassandra was talking.
“…and so he walks through the world, trailing planets and sunflowers behind him…he flies and sparks cascade from his golden wings… he soars on crimson feathers embroidered with topaz…he dances, singing bone and hairy flank and milky seed. He passes, Holy Shadow, Unholy One, and he never looks back. He never looks back. He passes on…and on…and on, and his shadow is life, but he never looks back.”
It was Cassandra’s favorite story, and she never told it twice the same way. They’d fallen into the habit of inviting her to retell it every night, and her dreamlike images and language opened the way for other stories, other tellers.
A sudden painful affection for them made Rapunzel’s eyes water. Cassandra, helpless, injured, unpredictable and infuriating, was given a place of respect, a place of safety among them. They cared for her and protected her, their reward her strange mixture of knowing and crippling empathy. Cassandra was impossible to deal with logically and rationally. You had to use heart and imagination. You had honor the impossible to understand.
As she took her place in the circle, Cassandra on one side and Dar on the other, she realized Dar had coolly assumed she’d accompany him in the spring to find goods for Rowan Tree long before she asked to accompany him.
It was hard to say whether gratification or irritation was strongest.