Between and Behind the Lines

Gillian heard the calling of the toads, an urgent chirping sound. here, in the first Essex County, she felt as though she were an entirely different person, or maybe it was simply that after all this time, she finally knew who she was.

"Do you ever see anything strange when you're walking in the marsh?" Gillian asked their driver, Matt, as he loaded their luggage into the taxi.

"We call it the fens. You'll find water, miss, there among the weeds. It's a place where you need to be careful, otherwise you may drown and join the others. You'll find toads out there as well, especially at this time of the year. That's what you're hearing now. They used to be hunted by those wishing to protect themselves from evil. They say there's a witchbone in every toad. Folks called the Toadmen delved into magic and my great grandfather was one of them." Matt took out a tin cough drop box and shook it. Gillian could hear something inside rattling around. The taxi driver lowered his voice. 

"I've got my own witchbone. You cut it from a toad and dry it in the sun and you make sure to keep it close to your heart for protection and courage.  I wouldn't walk through the woods without it. It protects against evil and gives you power, especially over horses and women."

Alice Hoffman - The Book of Magic                                        

..................

As Emlyn, Shannon and Alain were leaving the Bear,  discussing this newest conundrum concerning the problematic and potentially perilous pirate Alexander Kidd, hoofbeats sounded behind them proceeding at a breakneck pace.

All three turned to meet or scamper away from their pursuer, but Alain's gimlet gaze was the first to recognise -- 'Jeanne!' he exclaimed, with his arm about Shannon, ready to pull her from harm's way.

They stood their ground amazed at their erstwhile friend's posthaste approach. At the last, Jeanne reined in her frothing bay gelding, a fine beast indeed with the look of grand breeding about him.                                              

Jeanne dismounted at once, snatching a quick look behind her. 'Good,' she apprised, 'no one has followed!' She patted her snorting mount's sweat-sodden shoulder. 'Poor Blaze, he has carried me far on this escape!' Jeanne seemed rather out of breath as well as she reached for her canteen and drank the last drops. 

At last she viewed those about her and announced, 'I've done it! I've left!' She shook her dark auburn braid. 'I've escaped from Kidd, the great daft omadan!' She kicked a rock with her boot toe. Shannon looked at Em: '"Eejit", that is,' said she, nodding.

 'Aye, and I've news for you all.' Again Jeanne shot a glance behind them. 'We must get off the road and away though. He'll find me gone at some point this day...'

'Shia, shia, Jeanne, there now,' Shannon patted her friend's shoulder. 'Aye, let's get you and your good beast awa' from town...you're safe wi' us...'  

Shannon turned off the road and led them all away behind a thicket and down a deer trail, Blaze snorting all the way til they came to a shallow creek and let him have but a wee bit of water at a time whilst he cooled. She tied the reins up and slipped a rope through his bridle, hitching it to a nearby birch. She refilled her canteen after a good rinse and joined the others in a small meadow seated on a fallen redwood.

Jeanne sat and turned her face up to the sun. 'It's so good to feel the free air and sun on yer face.' Everyone sat still and waited, knowing it would be best to let her take her time rather than peppering her with questions.

'Right.' Jeanne regarded her friends then. 'Well, since time is short, I'll cut to the chase.' She sighed. 'Alexander, is mad. His madness has currently manifested in a libido dominandi...'

'A lust for power,' Em frowned.

'Exactly.' Jeanne continued, 'I hadn't understood it for what it was, until he showed up with Jethro and armed guards about a waggonload of guano.' She made an appropriate face. 'We now are guilty of harboring guano with intent.' She slowly shook her head, unbuttoning the neck of her shirt and wiping her face with a hanky. 

'And Jethro? How does he figure in all this?' Em's chief concern was the safety of her friend, more like a brother.

'Oh, Em...I fear he is being, well, not exactly held, but he isn't allowed to leave, either. He's being treated quite well, given the best of everything, food, money, clothes...but Kidd wants his expertise in making these bat-bombs. And he wants to keep him near. For how long, who knows.'

Alain spoke up, 'Jeanne, Jethro was tres' worried about leaving his farm, and about Homer. He does not wish to leave him all alone there, I know.'

Jeanne stood and began pacing. 'Alain, I know! I cannot tell you, all of you,' she regarded her friends, 'how deeply I regret falling in with Kidd.' She rubbed her forehead as if she could erase such memories. 'But, here's the thing: he has plans to, eh, invade Washington. Insurrection. Which he sees as justified, in his mania. It's an utterly mad plan...which is how I finally fell out with him.'                                  

'Jeanne, tell us now.' Shannon tried to focus her friend's ramblings. 'The plan, then?'

Jeanne's hands covered her face, rubbing it in frustration. 'Ach! The fool actually WANTS to be seen coming in to Washington and the government buildings there! He plans a mighty force of armed eh, "patriots" he's calling them! And, oh my lord and lady, he wants to invade by land, by river, and by air! Wi' hot air balloons! Dropping bat-bombs! Can you believe the like!?'

Alain frowned and held up a hand. 'Wait, wait...by river?' He looked at Jeanne. 'Well that can only be the Potomac. That would be insanity. C'est fou!'

Jeanne's weary gaze reflected many a sleepless night. 'He has fancies of himself as Washington crossing the Deleware...' She dropped her head to her hands.

'Alain, you know the area back east somewhat, yes? What can you tell us about such a plan?' Emlyn inquired.

Their companion sighed softly. 'I know but little, truly. Mais, you know who does know that area, mon oncle Maurice!'

Emlyn stood. 'We need to get you somewhere safe, Jeanne. I can only hope that Jethro, and Homer will be all right for now.' She eyed the others. 'I know just the place for Jeanne. No one will find her.' She nodded, and Jeanne understood that she meant the Massachusetts estate.

Alain smiled. His eyes went to Jeanne. 'Fond of you, mon oncle was...we should see what he thinks of all this.'

Jeanne blushed, then she quickly recovered,  removed the bridle and tack from Blaze,  and giving him a pat and a soft slap on the rump sent him on his merry way. 'Go home. Go on now, ye've done yer job, laddie!'

No need to tell him twice. Blaze trotted off back the way he'd come. Jeanne divided the tack among them and gazed Em's way. 'This is my own saddle, bridle and bits, ye ken.'

Emlyn nodded. 'We're off then!' Looping her arm through Shannon's, who in turn had Jeanne's arm  they were away ~

.................

The great hulking mansion loomed silently above them as the trio approached up the steps. “Not sure who is here now,” Em tried the door, which gave entry into the hall. “All quiet,” she ushered her Celtic sisters within.  “Well, plenty of space. I usually sleep in the library myself when here.” She gestured up the winding stairway. “Pick a room, any room.”

Jeanne smiled wearily. “Ta, Em,” she managed with a hug. “I’m ready for a rest, I admit. Haven’t been sleeping much of late.”

“Off you go then. No one will find you here.” Emlyn sent her friend up to bed and turned to Shannon, who stood staring after Jeanne with arms folded. “Saw that one coming,” she nodded to Em. “I will leave Jeanne safe with you. I’m off to find Alain and see what sort of madness is afoot with the men.” 

“Always something,” Emlyn allowed. “ I best stay here and keep watch, just in case.”

…………

Em headed down the hall to the library. Opening a door, she poked her head within. No one downstairs. “Daryl?” She called. No answer. He may be in the loft asleep, though. Climbing the winding stairway to the loft, she sighed. Empty then. Just as well, she decided. “Been quite a day already,” she told herself.

But the day was not yet over…

…………..

Meanwhile, down the forest pathway to Athena’s, that worthy woman stood outside with Wolfstar, both with rapt attention upon the clear sky above.

“A very large eagle, perhaps,” was Wolfstar’s guess as he shaded his eyes against the sun. Athena was not so sure. “I don’t think so. No eagle is that big. And it appears to be glowing.” Athena had an altogether different notion as to the provenance of this airborne anomaly. And it was nothing earthbound.

Wolfstar shot a knowing look her way, his countenance serious. “I believe I will leave you to welcome your guest from afar. We will meet again at another time.”

      

Athena stared after him. “Soon!” she called after him. Then returned her gaze to the sky. Wolfstar was never comfortable around Axelis or the craft he piloted. But Athena treasured his rare exotic visits and always looked forward to them.

The ship landed in the meadow after a series of falling leaf motions. Athena always did marvel at the smooth sleekness of the craft, not a rivet or seam showed to mar its surface like a mold of silver. Once landed, the odd glow ceased to shine through the exterior. Utterly perfect in its quixotic way, it seemed as much a part of the natural landscape as a six legged giraffe in a swimming pool. 

Athena liked its look however. She found it oddly beautiful, much like its pilot. She knew not to approach until all was powered down though and waited for Axelis to disembark. 

Soon enough, her visitor appeared, all seven feet plus of him, long platinum hair adrift with the wind. She wondered if his appearance was partly to blame for Wolfstar’s exit. She shrugged it off as a male idiosyncrasy. Too bad we all can’t simply get along, she decided. Then, she noticed Axelis step down the ramp and turning, he put an arm out to help a young woman who was also exiting the ship. Hm. That put rather a different perspective on things.

As the two approached Athena, she noticed Axelis looking rather pleased with this group meeting. He took her in a warm embrace. “Athena, so good to see you. You are well?” 

“I am. And who have we here?” Athena took in the adolescent girl, looking a slim slip of a thing, her own hair so blonde as to appear white and such pale skin as to seem translucent. She turned great sapphire blue eyes upon her surroundings with a somewhat startled look.

“Sharina, this is Athena.” Axelis made introductions as the girl stared unabashedly, then nodded to Athena and murmured “It is a pleasure meeting you, Athena.” Athena replied “A pleasure indeed,” as her eyes held Axelis in a firm grip. “And what brings you here on such a far journey this day?”

“As you have probably noticed, Sharina is a hybrid. Partly Pleiadian, and also Earth human.” He paused to let that sink in. “I wished for her to experience this planet and its people. She has been most curious and inquisitive.”

Athena attempted to gather herself  together and respond with something a bit less than shock and awe. “I see. You are of course most welcome, both of you,” Again, she locked her steely gaze upon Axelis. “We can see that you may experience as much of earthly beings, beauty and beasts as possible on such short notice.”

Axelis smiled gratefully. “That will be excellent. Thank you Athena.” 

Athena returned his smile. “Shall we begin with the stables?”

The Great Workaround or The Other Side of Life

 'Don't be so dense!' Nelida snapped impatiently. 'Dreaming awake should have made you realize that you have, as all women do, a unique capacity to receive knowledge directly.'

Esperanza made a silencing gesture with her hand and said, 'Did you know that one of the basic differences between males and females is how they approach knowledge?'

Slowly and deliberately, she tore off a clean sheet from my notepad and drew two human figures. One head she crowned with a cone and said that it was a man. On the other head, she drew the same cone, but upside down, and said it was a woman.

'Men build knowledge step by step,' she explained, her pencil poised on the figure with a cone. 'Men reach up; they climb toward knowledge. Brujos say that men cone toward spirit; they cone upward to knowledge. This coning process limits men on how far they can reach.'

She looked at me sharply. 'Pay attention,' she warned me and pointed her pencil to the second figure, the one with the inverted cone. 'As you can see, the cone is upside down. open like a funnel.  Women are able to open themselves directly to the source, the source reaches them directly, in the broad base of the cone. Brujas say that women's connection to knowledge is expansive. On the other hand, men's connection is quite restriced.

'Men are close to the concrete,' she said, 'and aim at the abstract. Women, are close to the abstract and yet try to indulge themselves with the concrete.'

Esperanza went on to say that originally women saw no need to exploit their facility to link themselves broadly and directly to the spirit, they saw no necessity to talk about or to intellectualize this natural capacity of theirs, for it was enough for them to put it in action and know they had it.

'Men's incapacity to link themselves directly to the spirit was what drove them to talk about the process of reaching knowledge,' she stressed. 'They haven't stopped talking about it. And it's this insistence on knowing how they drive toward knowledge, this insistence on analyzing the process, that gave them the certainty that being rational is a typically male skill.'

Florinda Donner ~  Being in Dreaming                                   

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Q was half Gospel, half diary, one that traced twenty years in the life of a Cynic teacher, Menippus. Like Diogenes -- the father of Cynicism, who walked about with a lantern in broad daylight, looking for an honest man -- Menippus was a wanderer, no purse, no bag, no sandals. 

                                          

He had lived in Sepphoris, not far from Nazareth, then spent several years with the Nozrim ha-Brit, the Essene community at Qumran -- those who had written the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Keepers of the Covenant. But not alone:

Q was nothing less than a history of the lost years of Jesus' life, his development from ages 12 - 30, all transcribed by the pen of a Cynic teacher.

Pearse sat amazed.

To read the sayings in that context created an images of Jesus he had never seen before:

"When you know yourselves then you will be known, and will understand that you are children of the living Father. The task lies within, the journey yours alone..."

"When you make male and female into a single one, that the male will not be male and the female will not be female, then you will enter the kingdom."

"And so will all instruction and teaching, men and women share equally in perfection. In me, there is neither male nor female."

Jonathan Rabb ~ The Book of Q

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 Wisdom 7:22b-8:1 is a famous passage describing Divine Wisdom, including the passage: "For she is the breath of the power of God, and a pure influence flowing from the glory of the Almighty: therefore can no defiled thing fall into her. For she is the brightness of the everlasting light, the unspotted mirror of the power of God, and the image of his goodness. And being but one, she can do all things: and remaining in herself, she maketh all things new: and in all ages entering into holy souls, she maketh them friends of God, and prophets." 

Solomon as the archetypal wise person, fell in love with Wisdom: "I loved her, and sought her out from my youth, I desired to make her my spouse, and I was a lover of her beauty." (Wisdom 8.2).

The Book of Wisdom 

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"Koje ste religije?" asked the boy.

Pearse was surprised to hear Serbo-Croatian. "I'm a Catholic," he answered in kind.

The boy nodded then pointed to his boots. "Those are good for walking."

Pearse looked at his boots, then at the boy. "Yes.  You don't come from Kosovo, do you?"

"Yeah, Kosovo. Medveda. In the north." 

"Are you a Catholic?" Pearse asked.

"No. Muslim"

"Then why did you want to know my religion?"

The boy straightened up. "When the Protestant priests came to our village to tell us about Jesus, they had lots of money, drove nice cars. The Catholic ones were poor, told us that was the way they were supposed to be." Again he looked at the boots.

Pearse understood. He glanced at the boy's feet, roughly the same size as his own; his shoes with little life left in them. Pearse reached down, untied his laces and tossed the boots across. "How about a trade?"

Jonathan Rabb ~ The Book of Q                                             

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Maurice smiled at Emlyn, seated beside him in his hidden chapel. 'Later we can talk, then we will see, cherie. For now, perhaps we should go back upstairs...I prefer only staying below here when there is someone else above as lookout.'

Em understood.  She helped Maurice snuff the candles and extinguish insence until just the lights behind the stained glass remained.  'And to all a good night,' she intoned, as she mounted the stairway behind him.  'I don't think I've ever felt such a yearning to return to a basement before!'

Maurice laughed low, using only the torch to light their way. 'I know what you mean,' he said, flicking a quick gaze over his shoulder. 'Take care, cherie...we're soon there.'

When they had returned to the ground floor, Emlyn took a seat upon a padded wicker loveseat in the conservatory.  Maurice joined her from the kitchen bearing a tea tray. Em poured for them then sampled slices of apple, grapes and cheese.

'You know,' Maurice began, adding honey and lemon to his tea, 'that the Protestant Reformation took out seven entire books from the bible? I will give you a good Catholique bible, cher. I wouldn't wish you without Wisdom...'

'No, neither would I...' Em frowned. 'I'd heard something about that before. Truly incredible. And so much apogrypha floating about out there as well.' Best not to mention discoveries post-timewalking...for now.

'"Wisdom is glorious, and never fadeth away, and is easily seen by them that love her, and is found by them that seek her..."' Maurice bent to murmur into Emlyn's ear.

Em smiled. 'Sounds to me like Solomon's Song of Songs...' she said, turning to him as she blushed slightly under the spell of Solomon.

'It is attributed to that sage personage,' Maurice replied, putting an arm behind her on the sofa.   'In order, it follows the Canticle of Canticles.' He toyed with a strand of her hair, and bent to kiss her cheek. '"My beloved is gone down into his garden, to the bed of aromatical spices, to feed in the gardens, and to gather lilies..."' Maurice plucked a fat purple grape and fed Emlyn whilst he further recited, '"I to my beloved, and my beloved to me, who feedeth among the lilies.'"

'Now, that, is definitely Solomon...' Em inclined her neck backwards as Maurice lightly bestowed breathy kisses upon it. 

'And so it is, ma cherie.' He grinned as he broke a stem of grapes and snapped one into his mouth. 'I will give you the Douay-Rheims version. It was written from the 15-to-1600s at the English college in Rheims and Douay.'

                                     

'The English college? In France...' Em thought, pausing a moment, as she regarded Maurice. 'As part of the Counter-Reformation...'

'Mais oui. The English Reformation was brutal, non? They still have the old houses with the "priest holes". ' He frowned. 'True, the church owned much land then, and it was farmed and worked by the common folk. But, it was usually a fairly equitable exchange: come the harvest, a portion went to the cathedral and minster, and also the farmers had the fruit of their labors.

Maurice continued: 'To be sure, much of the corruption in the hierarchy needed change. Not altogether a bad thing. But apres' Luther, the land went to whatever nobility owned property in the district. The nobels did not have even the conscience or charity of the church. "None for all, and All for Me!' Hence, the Peasant's Revolt. Both in England and Austria.

He sighed. 'Catholics in that time needed to try to save their culture, as well as faith.' Maurice sighed softly. 'I am Canadian. But, I am French-Canadian. Very much so.'

Emlyn was very glad of that. She regarded this intriguing man sitting beside her, a mixture of sage and swain, Plato and Paris...  

'No, the aristocracy never does feel much in the way of compassion towards the poor.' Em agreed. 'As long as people can get away with ignoring them, so they will.' She sunk into that dark thought, considering Kidd, the pirate prince, and his machinations.

'A franc for your thoughts, cherie,' Maurice sat back, noticing Em's ardent concentration.

'You are an enigma to me, at times, I admit,' she replied. 'But I am becoming used to it, the better I know you.' She paused, sipping tea, and decided on a different tack. 'If you must know...I was  surprised by your sangfroid at Gwydion's absurd apparition.'

Maurice huffed softly and smiled. 'A very minor player in a very large arena,  cherie ange.' 

Em was tres' pleased at being referred to as 'angel'.  However, she strayed not far from what plagued her mind of late. 'True. However...I was thinking about something Shannon and I had discovered recently. This also relates to your nephew Alain.'

Maurice sat up pouring more tea. 'I am listening.'

'When we returned home, to Arcadia, I found an old friend of mine, Jethro,  who proceeded to enlist Alain in helping him work a job at which he was employed for Kidd; that is, Alexander Kidd, the pirate's descendant, supposedly.' Em waved away that particular conceit. 'Anyway, Jethro has, on his property, some rather large and deep caves back in the once-volcanic foothills of the Sierra. As you may guess, these are populated by legions of bats.'

'Ah.' Maurice was intrigued. 'Go on.'

'Well, it seems that Kidd had discovered this unfortunately well-known fact about Jethro's farm, due, naturally to Jethro having such a large and mobile mouth...' Em scowled at the thought, and continued: 'Anyway, in short, Kidd is now employing Alain and Jethro to mine the caves for guano, for him. Exactly what for, we aren't sure. But it cannot be anything bon, no?'

Maurice frowned then as well, lying back against the couch. 'I see what you mean. This Kidd, he has the crazy plans to enlist timewalking in changing history, oui? It would seem that those plans are shaping up into something rather explosive...'

Emlyn nodded. 'Shannon set Alain and Jethro the task to find out more about this, if possible, quietly and cautiously.' As Em thought about it, the more agitated her thoughts became. She set down her tea. 'I really should return. I am worried about them, about Jeanne, and this whole mad enterprise!'

Maurice stood with her, taking her hand. 'Of course, cherie. And I would like to come with you...'

Emlyn thought then about Maurice and Jethro. Two strange bulldogs going head - to - head... 'Ah, no...that would not help. Not at this time. It isn't easy to get information out of Kidd, or Jethro either. Probably nothing is forthcoming as yet. But I feel I need to be there, to keep an ear open for what may be coming.'

Maurice seemed to intuit what exactly was going on. 'A bit of intrigue, eh?' He put his arms about Emlyn. 'I understand, ma belle. But keep close watch upon Alain, eh? For me?'

'Of course! I can't let anything happen to our finest fiddle player in the county.' She arose on toes and gave Maurice a farewell kiss. 'I will keep you apprised. It's early days yet.'

Maurice took her hand. 'You WILL be very careful, now.' His eyes searched hers. 'No taking chances! I cannot lose you now when we have only just met.'

'I feel I have known you forever...' Em assured him. A final fierce embrace, and then she blew her amour a farewell kiss and was - gone.

Maurice found himself alone, again. 'These American girls, always coming and going! Mostly going...'                                      

.......................

'About time you got here! Where have you been?' Shannon did not await Emlyn's reply but took her arm and bustled her off, closing and locking the shop door after her.

'Alain is back, with news.' She continued, frowning. 'I only know a wee bit of it, but I will let him tell it.'

They hustled down the street past the greensward that served as a park for Arcadia, and down to that hub of news, gossip and commerce of questionable sorts that was The Bear tavern.                                                  

A fine day spilled a few outside upon scattered rough hewn tables and benches and this was where Alain sat alone at a bench leaning against a spreading oak and slowly sipping a dark brew from his own glass-bottomed pewter mug.

He stood when he spied Em and Shannon in view and waved them over. As Alain and Shannon became intertwined, Em muttered sommat about seeing to refreshments and betook herself inside.

She soom returned with a pitcher of  porter and pasties for all.                                            

'Ta, Em!' Shannon spun round and began to pour.' Em smiled knowing as she did that food and spirits would be needed to distract her from Alain, who smiled and lifted his mug to her. 'Merci Em! I must admit I was feeling the hole in the belly.'

'Cheers!' Em toasted. 'And where's Jethro then?'

'Ah, that...' Alain shook his head. 'I best be telling you all.'

'Indeed,' Em said, knowing Jethro this would not be an easy discourse. She began fortifying herself with pastie.

'It is like this,' Alain began, 'we worked some days with the mining...' he made a face of distaste, coughed rattlingly,  and gulped some brew '...which did not sit well with me. '

'Mon poor cherie, he fell ill from the fumes.' Shannon patted his shoulder in sympathy.

'Oui. So I returned before Jethro. After a day of clearing my head, I was feeling more the thing. Then Jethro passed through town, with a wagon full of guano...' Again, Alain's face contorted miserably. 'Covered, of course, but there is no mistaking that smell.' He shook his head as if to shake off the stench. 'This was driven by none other than Kidd himself, who had outriders, armed with rifles alongside.' 

Emlyn was not happy with this news. 'Go on.'

Alain sighed, and continued. 'They stopped here, at The Bear, and had an early lunch, then kept going. I didn't get to talk to Jethro much, Kidd kept a heavy eye on everyone and didn't let anyone else talk at all. But, I did find out a bit of Kidd's plan.'

'Yes? Tell us, man!' Shannon was as keen as Em for an end to this tale.

Alain smiled an inch. 'Yes. So, Jethro allowed as to how Kidd has a notion to, eh, "manufacture" a sort of bat-bomb and then to ferry them down the Potomac River, to Washington.'

Shannon choked on her beer, coughing. Alain patted her back. Emlyn was frozen in stupification at this elucidation.

Shannon shook her head, waving it all away. 'No, that does not even make sense! How to transport bat dung cross-country? Unless...' Her eyes went alarmingly to Em's. 'You don't think she would try to use the time trails to transport batcrap for the sake of Freedom and Justice For All?

Em's face fell and hit the dirt. 'Oh, Shannon, but I do. I fear just that.'                                        

 CLICK BELOW TO LISTEN:Marvin Gaye What's Going On?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDK7TiEiMOI

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