Burning Leaves
A/N: The words in italics come from another challenge I combined with this one. I comes from a writing group I belong to.
We have a gloriously warm day and a date with a burning barrel or perhaps just a match. I think the barrel is a better idea. My home is deep in the maple forests of north western Vermont. Sugar maple country, and since we produce it within a strict set of organic rules.
Each step of the process clearly written on a placard on the boiling room wall, comes from long experience of a century long business. There could be no confusionor question about how we make our world famous syrup. It would cost us a fortune if the media did a story maligning the quality of our products.
The narrow stream beside the building enclosing the giant kettles, ran through a waterwheel on the opposite side. Grinding flour from milo, wheat, oats and other specialty grains is the other side of our business. It was a milestone of mass funding from people willing to donate to help us a sustainable powersource.
Soaring spruce trees with huge roots creating trip hazards stood in a tight row behind the mill house. Someone mentioned water was the wrong way to go, thinking wind had better potential. Not so, the steep section of our brook, almost a waterfall, never freezes over. Not even on record cold days. The steam from it obscures the entire production section of the homestead. The only mistake was the need to divert water when the waterwheel ends up under a ton of ice.
Not that it matters. We are finsihed our grinding for this year. Limited product in niche market allows for increased profits in any case.
I hoped I could get the piles of leaves dealt with before the first late fall rains hit. Wet debris like this was a slip hazard. If I went down hard, being lazywas my only option. Which might not be a problem. Spreading a blanket close to our chalet style home, my husband was the only other resident here.
Our employees were on vacation as was tradition.
“The leaves can wait. Oscar and Hilda will be back in two days. We’ll make an event of it. The weather will hold, we’ve got a solid omega block.” He held out the book I was reading and gestured toward the picnic basket. Pointing to the rills broken into lace like patterns between polished river rock, he continued, “Our wine is staying cold in the eddy there, and you need to relax.”
I stepped into his arms, “We’re all alone, for once. Burning them is always a chore better shared. Your weather predictions are never wrong.”
His lips were soft on mine. When I caught my breath, he said, “Let’s see what other fires I can light.”
Now What?
I got him. I finally got him. And now I have to make sure I don’t take the fall for cleaning up his mess. The number of people his horrible standards and instance on long hours put in the grave. The safety codes he ignored. All of it. Foreman, as he insisted upon us using the title instead of his name, was no more.
The foundry is dangerous enough, and casting bronze is a tricky business. Artists trust us with meticulously crafted molds, and his asinine disregard for the basics, like two men on every pour, and using the crane for the long ones put fatal flaws in statues and in all the miniature copies that came after them.
Sand casting and polishing versus lost wax method for the original, made work for more than a dozen craftspeople who brought the rough textured castings to the exacting standards the sculptors demanded. Details had to be attended to, and now I’ll attend to his funeral. Or should I say cremation? He wasn’t the first to trip and end up in the old fashioned melting pit.
He was about to disappear and become part of the floating scum we skim so carefully when we make alloys. No trace of a body. They might find prints from his shoes in front of the pit, and evidence of him tripping to his knees, because I’ll stage it that way. All I have to do is open the grate, and he’ll be gone.
The creaking groan of the grid sliding out from under him barely registered over the roar of flames and industrial fans. It was late, and he was the last one out as usual. His habits a rut not one of those who work here wanted to fall into. Rotating into different positions kept eyes fresh, but he said staying in the same position made it easier. Right, lazy ass. He just didn’t want to take the time to properly train anyone. Well, who’s laughing now?
My silicon soled steel-toed boots left no prints. The only thing I had to make sure of? Don’t brag. Ever. For James, Elliot and Cameron, I said a quiet prayer. Finally my co-workers will rest in peace.
I Did it Again
A/N: Strong language and offensive swearing
Why do I go to these shows? Gem collectors, jewelers, and mineral hunters with row upon row of fresh out of the earth stones. The jewelers with their locked, brilliantly lit display cases, and the amazing necklaces made of every combination of silver and gold. Not to mention and endless selection of silver framed pendants with every crystal known to man shaped to bring out their amazing vibrations and properties.
As I wandered through the various business displays, I spent time watching the people. Reiki practitioners had clients on massage tables. I groaned. Really? Calm is not what the continual roar of conversations provided. The occasional screaming baby, and toddlers running every which way didn’t give of the right energy for a proper healing session. These idiots would do more damage than good.
Muttering to myself, I spotted a Chakra tree at one table, and instantly recognized the colored glass of a fake. My guess was no one here bothered to check the reputation of these merchants. I left the area to head for the back wall where the mineral miners had long tables of crystals and geodes. Some still covered in bits of clay and dust from the hole they were found in. Much better. The surge of calmness relaxed my vibrating nerves and I moved toward the beryl crystals.
A glimmer of pale blue with undertones of green caught my attention. The group of natural crystals on their feldspar basis were breath taking, and I waved at the dark blond man at the other end of the display. I had to have them. I didn’t care if my fiancé broke our engagement. His continual insistence that I give up my mineral collecting, that I had enough of them, was grating on me in any case.
I continually traded, sold, and upgraded specimens. Some of them priceless, many of them destined to be cut into the gems I used in my artwork. Who said these magnificent stones were only for jewelry? My sculptures and flat work were in demand. I had five commissions to fulfill and three of my own pieces on the go in my studio.
Scanning his impressive chest, I found his name tag. “Hi, Vance. How much?” I pointed to the enchanting group of aquamarines.
“Ms. Bergstein! I’m delighted to see you here.” His voice was deep, and his accent held a slight burr, perhaps Irish but more likely Scottish. “How can we help you?”
“The aquamarines, how much?” I wasn’t going to let them get away from me. And if they had anymore of the same quality, I wanted them for the mosaic in blue and green I was designing.
“That group? It’s got several flawlessly clear crystals. Probably five grand if you are planning to cut stones from it. If you promise me you will keep them as they are, then three.”
“I see my reputation precedes me.” I twisted the engagement ring off my left ring finger, took it off and slipped it i to my pocket. “I’ll take it. I’m looking for more loose crystals suitable for cutting. Turquoise, and other blue minerals. Maybe some fluorite as well. As long as it’s the green blue. No purples. I’m working on something. Amazonite, green aventurine, jade, nephrite, lapis lazuli, apatite too. The aquamarine group here, goes under light on my specimen shelf. Too gorgeous to do anything else. I want its calm energy for my study.
“Sybil!”
The shout turned me around to face the furious face of my boyfriend. I just figured out he never should have been anything more. I should have dropped him like the scum he was showing himself to be.
“Shit,” I whispered. I caught Vance coming around the table to stand beside me from the corner of my eye.
“Stop this nonsense. You don’t need to continue working. I’ve got more than enough money to keep you in the lap of luxury.” Gavin Armstrong was the fourth generation heir to his family’s real estate conglomerate. He wanted me to drop my career and join a dozen charities instead.
He grabbed my elbow and started to drag me toward the exit.
Vance took three quick strides and placed himself in front of Gavin. “The lady and I have business to discuss.”
“Cheating, are you?” Gavin’s furious voice drew attention from every person in the vicinity. Cell phones came up and I knew I was going to be the next Tik-Tok sensation.
I yanked my arm out of his grip. If I was going to be a viral social media star, it might as well be witness to our breakup. No way he could deny my intentions this way.
Vance stepped into the gap between us. One hand against Gavin’s chest, he kept him from using the fist he raised. Not the first time violence threatened when I told him I wasn’t going to quit a lucrative career in the arts.
I pulled the ten carat diamond solitaire out of my pocket.
“Vance, would you hand this to Gavin.”
His arm stiffened and he grabbed a fistful of my soon to be ex’s shirt, as my soon to be former fiancé took a swing at me.
“You’re sure this is what you want to do?” Vance asked me.
“I am. As far as the world wants to know,” I waved the nearest videographer toward me, “I am officially breaking my engagement to Gavin Armstrong the fourth. I’ll be moving back into my apartment above my studio in Soho. In fact, I don’t care what he does with the stuff I have at his mansion is up to him. He ordered it all for me. Not one thing I actually chose for myself.”
“You bitch. Sybil, you don’t have the first clue about how to act in proper society.” Gavin’s sneering snarl brought gasps from the crowd closing in around us.
“Stuff it Gavin. I won’t be your puppet anymore. Vance, give him that ring. I don’t want him anywhere near me ever again.”
Vance pinched the band between his thumb and forefinger and held it out. Gavin backed away from him, refusing to take it and my sturdy champion somehow read my mind.
“I’ll drop it on the floor, you idiot. And the world is going to witness it. It’s going to be on every gossip show on the internet. I suggest you take it like a gentleman and walk away.” Vance held out the ring again.
Two well armed security guards pushed their way through the mob of on lookers.
“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” His tone was a shade too concerned. He glanced at Gavin and winced. As usual, his money and reputation for getting even, was working for him.
“She’ll be coming with me, if she knows what’s good for her.” Gavin dodged around Vance and grabbed my arm.
Vance pulled his other arm up behind his back. “Take him out. Sybil, take the ring and put it in his shirt pocket.” He glared at the security guard.
Gavin wouldn’t let go of me. His eyes were on mine and his voice rose above the din. “I’ll get you for this, bitch. You’re mine and you damn well know it.”
The other guards came to my side. “Let go of her. If you don’t, we’ll remove you, and call the cops as well. You’re making threats. Her safety is in doubt.”
Gavin pulled me closer and spat in my face. “Give me the damn ring. You’re going to pay for this, cunt. Gold digger.”
I smiled sweetly. “Here’s your ring. Don’t you even try to accuse me of stealing it.” I pulled his suit jacket open and deposited the sparkler in the inside pocket. I turned to the guy who was recording every word and said, “Did you get that?”
He nodded. “Every word. I’ll give you a copy as soon as I can get back to my offices. Mika Gordon, Chanel 4 news at the New York Gem and Mineral Show.”
“I’ll need it. Next stop the police precinct around the corner. I’ll be asking them to charge you with assault, Gavin.” I pulled a polishing rag out of my back jeans pocket and wiped my face. Tucking it back into my usual carrying spot, I turned to Vance.
“We have business I believe.”
His smile was broad. “Yes, we do. I’ll just mark those amazing aquamarines as sold, and I’ll come with you to the police. I think you’ll need a witness to get things moving.” He led me back to his display.
“I did it again,” I sighed as I watched him put the sold sticker on the feldspar base.
“What? You bought a magnificent mineral sample and got rid of a buffoon.” Vance didn’t sound angry.
“Feil in love with a pile of rocks and turned my life on its head. My dad is going to be furious.”
“Again? This I have to hear,” Vance prompted.
“Did it in university. I was studying fine arts, so I could take over the galleries. I had this idea in the back of my head, and I took a metal sculpting class. Do you remember Emerald Cat?”
He nodded. “It’s why I knew who you were. Love that piece. It put you into the limelight at the year end Fine Arts show.”
“I found the stones for it and made the sculpture. I saw them at this show ten years ago. Changed the course of my life completely. And now another of beryl gemstone group has done it again.”
“Trust the stones.”
I stopped to look up at Vance’s face. His deep blue eyes said there was a story there. I couldn’t wait to find out more about this guy. Anyone who would step into a fight with Gavin Armstrong was worth getting to know much better. And if the stones meant more than just a paycheck, I needed to pursue this.
“I always do. Come on, let’s get going.” I stood on my tippy toes and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Thank you.”
He gestured toward the exit. “Police first, and then we’ll see.”
I nodded. Cautious too. Yup. This one was worth getting to know. I did a little happy dance on the way out. The future couldn’t be brighter.
Patchwork
To the Aunt taught me strength. Courage to make a life when her heart’s desire for children was cut out from under her. An early X-ray technician, she was one of those who were the reason we wear lead protective gear during an exam. She lost her ability to conceive because of her job. And as a career woman in a male field, she gave me the blueprint to survive.
My mother gave me love, but also the difference between conditional and unconditional love. She set conditions; I got the guilt when I was never quite good enough and vowed never to place those demands on anyone who mattered to me.
My father, who proved to me anyone can have a weak moment and need to be forgiven. He was my cheerleader and established my self esteem but let me down at a crucial moment. Only now, years after his death, do I understand he wasn’t to blame.
My chosen sisters, who support me and reinforced my faith in humanity and the ability for people to care for each other. To my three amigas, thank you for still being here. Michelle, I honor you for your brilliant life. For facing death with grace and dignity. And for visiting in my dreams whenever I need to hear you say, “Listen to your inner voice. But not when it lies.” I miss you, and I’m sorry you had to go on ahead.
My husband, who showed me how love works to fill the gaps in courage and shore up strength. He also provided me with the challenge of caring for the severely depressed and surviving the carnage when it kills love. He taught me laughter is as necessary as breathing, and I find things to chuckle about no matter how badly my day is going. I miss the man I married, and I thank the monster he became for teaching me I can face anything.
Each person I have known along my journey so far, has given me pieces to place in the quilt that is me. From a tiny fragment from a compliment from a stranger, to the framework holding everything together, everyone of them is part of the patchwork that is me.
Your Silver Birthday
Dearest Alanna,
I have kept these crystals for a very long time. Through my entire life as a healer from the first time I used the skills, after finding them on the altar at our circle so close to home. A quick walk as you know, and only a short distance from the fairy’s home under the great oak.
I put them in your care now. You will become so much more than what I have managed, and I am and always be your proud mentor and tutor. On this, your silver birthday, forgive me if I ramble. I am indeed starting to feel my years at long last.
Please find the bloodstones inside the parcel. Harry has been kind enough to pull it and this letter through to you. Let Liam do the unpacking as it is heavy. Roarke helped me wrap them. Also, find several large rods of black tourmaline. Cousins, to Harry’s, they were mined from the same source in Brazil.
The large orb of red tigers eye is for the bedroom. I doubt you will need it, for it’s traditional help with libido issues. But it grounds the base chakras. I found it helped me to think clearly when I needed it. Especially when I found myself called to an emergency in the middle of the night. I suspect it will do you well when a baby insists on a dramatic entrance. I am so proud of you for taking the trauma of Maggie and turning it around to help women whose fear at a critical moment in their lives is often misunderstood. Who better than you would understand them?
The bloodstone geode which split in two on the alter are the same stones I carried with me wherever I went. You remember them hanging in the workshop or around my neck. The blue rainbow moonstones were there, as well as a clear quartz tower. This one amplifies any or all of the others. The selenite bowl is for recharging, but I would advise you to take it out on Andrew’s deck, especially if a thunderstorm is immanent.
Otherwise, let Irena guide you. She is a treasure. Her knowledge of crystals, rivals Chen’s immense wisdom with herbs.
T
his is your graduation gift. You finished your internship and are working on your residency. Trauma surgery with a specialty in obstetrics is an intense combination for your sensitive nature to deal with. As an empath, your mental health is tenuous at best. It’s a truth you must face. Let Liam be your rock as he has been from the day you met.
Let your children, little Allen and Glory are blessings already, be your reason to continue. I believe you are mistaken about this pregnancy. There are two babies there if you care to look a little deeper. Identical from what I sensed when you were here for Samhain. They will be born close to Ostara.
No more after this, dearest, well perhaps one. Don’t let yourself wear out before you can fulfill your dreams. Balancing all phases of your life is difficult, and these gems and crystals will help you do it.
With love, pride, and faith,
Your Uncle, Cardamon.
“Oh Liam, I sensed the end is coming for him, and for Roark. This isn’t just a graduation gift. It’s a passing of the torch, so to speak,” Alanna said as she wiped tears from her cheeks.
“I’ll take care with this box. I see it’s more a crate than his usual parcels this time. I’ll get my hammer so I can pull the nails out of the lid. A prybar too. Perhaps I can use the wood to craft a display table for the orb he was talking about.” Liam turned to go through the door to their attached garage. The house, newly finished, was up the hill from her father’s and not very far from Harry and Gaia’s retirement chalet.
Alanna winced, as she thought of them. The family agreed to keep it as it was, a center for learning and research for the magical community in the area. Harry’s collection of books was in a specially maintained archival room, only handled by people after they went through a quick introductory course. The ancient books were fragile, and Liam volunteered to guard them from harm.
She could still see her Grandda hunched over the scanning equipment as he committed his collection to digital perpetuity. To everyone’s surprise Cardamon outlived his cousin Gaia. Alanna knew his time was limited.
“Shall we see what’s in here?” Liam asked. “Twins, he said, identical?”
“Yes, pry the top off this. I can’t wait to see what we have. I know the bloodstone.
Brilliantly red, like arterial blood. With a band of deep Douglas Fir green around the outside. The geode is only two inches in diameter a bit too oval to called round, but close.”
Liam wedged the prybar into the space at the edge of the lid. Working his way around the crate, he loosened it, and found a stiff cardboard box inside.
“What about his insistence that you’re carrying twins?”
“He’s right, I think. I expect my next ultrasound will give us the answer. I’m bigger than I should be at this point, and yes, I appreciate you refraining from call me a whale.” She stuck her tongue out at him, as she teased him. Orca was their private nickname for her as she neared the end of each of her last two pregnancies.
“Boys or girls?”
“You’d think I could figure it out. It’s so easy when it’s someone else. I knew with everyone of the mothers around us.”
“Including all four of yours.” Liam reached inside the crate to lift the box out, and quickly pulled his arms back out. “This is way too heavy to lift out. I’m going to pull the rest of this crate apart. Keep an eye out for any nails that come loose and fall on the floor. I don’t want Allen picking them up and putting them in his mouth. Glory is crawling already, and she is as much of a vacuum as Saqui is with crumbs and scraps.”
“You are such a great father. Do you think we need a nanny?”
“With identical twins coming, yes. But I think we can look to one of our Murphy cousins. I think Paddy and Aileen both have wandering feet. Paddy is a gardener, trained horticulturist. Andrew said he’s looking for a ground manager. With the crops he’s added, he needs a farmer. That’s Paddy. Aileen, his wife would make an excellent housekeeper and nanny for us. She cooks too, much like Soleil does for Riona.”
“Get the feelers out. I’ll talk to Dad about it. We have the room here to build them a smaller house across the creek. You’ve been thinking about this for some time?”
“Aye. You love to cook when you have a chance, and so do I. But the housework is only done because of spells, and that’s not what I want to teach our little ones. Remember Harry’s insistence on hard work when we can do it ourselves.”
“He’s so right too. I wince with guilt every time I do it.” Alanna kept watching as each of the wooden sides came away, “You’re amazing, love. I hope you can use these pallets.”
“Must have been Roark who put this together. I see his fine eye for design in it. I’ll ask him what kinds of wood he used. It doesn’t look like it’s all cheap pine. Let me take this stack of five out to the workshop, and we’ll get the box open right away. I can actually feel a hum coming from it.”
“You’ve learned a lot about crystals. We’ll place these in all the right places.”
Liam took three trips out to the workshop as Alanna slit the tape on the top of the box and opened the flaps. Packing paper was wrapped around each of the crystals, and Styrofoam peanuts filled the gaps in between.
“I’m glad Allen is napping. Glory too,” Alanna said.
Liam nodded. “I’ll get a garbage bag. I can see this in Deataigh’s fur. Missy wouldn’t be able to resist either.”
“Hmph. I wonder where they are?”
“Up at the circle for some reason. With your Aunt Morgan’s triplets and Killa and Maura clearing the debris before it gets buried in the snow. Doug and Mike are doing the heavy lifting. Deadfall is always a problem. Having Paddy here to keep track of it all will be a blessing. I miss Harry. He used to keep it all done without ever telling us exactly how much work it was.”
Alanna sighed. “We all do. At least they come back at Yule and Samhain. With all the others who have gone before. Who knew Aunt Morgan would step into Grammie’s shoes as a medium? She is truly a sorceress to be admired.”
“Riona is good at it too.” Liam slipped the edge of the garbage bag under the box and Alanna threw the first of the endless supply of wrapping paper in it.
“Oh my! Look at this. It’s bigger than Grammie’s was!”
“And perfectly clear. This goes beside the great room hearth, at the heart of our home.” The four foot tall spear of flawless quartz sat on the floor reaching well past Alanna’s waist.
“I can’t wait to get to the rest of them.”
“Black tourmaline for every bedroom. It will keep the worst nightmares away, along with the amethysts Gaia left us.” Liam said.
As they continued to discover more treasures, Alanna’s heart lightened. Cardamon was right. They were exactly what she needed. When they uncovered the giant orb of polished red tigers eye, she sighed.
“Straight to the bedroom,” she said. “I’ll bring its stand. It goes on the table in front of the balcony window.”
“Agreed. Always recharging in the sun there. I think we finished just in time.” Liam said as he settled the orb in its new home.
“I hear Glory. I’ll nurse her before I leave. Back to reality. My shift starts in a couple of hours.” She stretched up on her toes, her baby bump settling against Liam as she pulled his face toward hers. “Give me a kiss and I’ll wake you when I get home in the morning.”
Liam smiled, “Best deal ever. I’ll never quit thanking the powers that be for putting me at the stones that night.”
“Me too. Okay, Glory’s screaming. And I hear Allen too.”
Liam’s grin grew broader. “Our son has a set of lungs.” He turned left as she turned right as they headed for their children.
Alanna scooped up her daughter and headed for the changing table. Life was good, and she promised herself to make sure it stayed that way.
Turbulence
Swirling rolling mountain streams
Waterfall rapids, challenging dreams
A kayak, skims between rocks and cliffs
Nimble, certain, faster than skiffs
An eagle flips a sudden roll
A mere pinpoint, wings out of control
The falcon folds her feathers tight
Diving with unpredictable might
The first time a child is told no you can’t
A teenagers heart broken by furious rant
The loss of your soul mate through unfair fate
Turbulence counters faith and calm’s safe state
Through the Gray
I see you lurking in my dreams
Stuck between, neither here nor there
What is it you need?
What question should I heed?
What do I say to send you on your way?
You seem so sad, even a bit mad.
Behind grey fog, no, maybe even smog
Broken, of course, you could not stay
You did not need to go
I forgive you, you know
For all the reasons you thought were good
For actions beyond your iron control
For the hurts and pain
And your total distain
Because you are not who once you were
Go! Peace be with you
You’ve earned the right to respect this life
And if by chance our souls should meet once more
I’ll love you still
I always will
Pink Lemonade
Pale pink, almost orange
Ice in a frosted glass,
Never ending supply of a lemon’s
Kiss, keeping sweet from overpowering
Lips eager for the quenching an
Event worth waiting for patiently still
Moments of raspberry or blueberry
Oranges could punch through with
Nectarine, peach, and apricot too
Addictive fresh pressed fruit
Deliciously paired with lemon’s tart tang
Endlessly supplied by Mom’s clever hand