Witches Moon - Kerry

Leaving - Nov. 6, 2014

I climbed the stairs to my front door and feel a pang in my heart at the thought of leaving. Pushing this sadness aside, I twist the cold knob and enter the glowing warm interior of home.

A fire roars in the fireplace in the centre of the room, surrounded by burgundy velvet furniture and dark wooden tables. The rafters were adorned with drying herbs and tools. The room is filled with the smell of a freshly baked apple pie. My eyes glean over my bag by the door before I wander to the kitchen, entranced by the sweet smell of cinnamon dessert.

I find pa, deep chestnut hair pulled back with a tie and wearing his bright purple apron, dishing out the apple pie with his homemade vanilla ice cream. My mouth waters.

Finnigan leaps from my shoulder and settles on the counter next to pa, making him smile.

“Don’t you worry there Finn, I got a special apple tarte just for you.” He says in a deep fatherly tone.

“Your cookings the best Morgen. I can’t wait to enjoy the flavours you’ve created tonight.”

“As always, the complementary enthusiast. Thanks Finn. Kerry, darling, one scoop or two?” He asks, looking up at me with his green-brown eyes. His half beard reflects the fire's light as he faces me. Gosh I’ll miss his cooking.

“Two! It’s my last dessert for who knows how long, I got to enjoy it while it's here.” I pull out the stool under the counter and sit next to Finnigan, awaiting the rich flavour of baked apple and the sweet comfort of the cold icecream.

“Ahaa!” I hear ma’s triumphant call from down the hall towards the attic stairs. A moment later she steps out, covered in dust, a huge smile on her face.

“Here it is dear! I found your grandmother's broom! Not to mention a load of other things we could throw out.”

“I guess this was a good opportunity to declutter that attic space.” Father adds.

“I guess so,” ma agrees. “Anyway, this broom was made from the mahogany wood of the Central American forests! Your grandmother spent two years abroad there studying the magic of the Mayans and other such things and met a man-witch there who made her this broom. I figured it's durable for long trips and the like. Here, take it!” She explains, bouncing with a little excitement as I take the broom.

“Wow, it’s so light, I’m afraid I’ll break it.” I feel the fine grains of wood in the handle and admire the smooth worn grip where my grandmother must have held some 20 years past before she joined the Etheria clouds. “Are you sure it will hold up in heavy wind and such? It seems like the smallest wind current could snap it.”

“Yes, yes. It's charmed and enforced. She flew it all the way home through a hurricane. Trust me on this.”

“Wow, ok, can’t argue with that. Thanks ma.” I catch Finnigan’s ears twitching. If a cat could roll their eyes he’d be doing it now.

“One could argue that the charms are old and need replacing much like a broom's bristles do after years of neglect.”

“Ever the pessimist I see.” Ma grins.

“It’s only natural to point out the obvious facts ma’am”

“Dessert is served.” My pa interrupts. He places a white plate with caramel sauce drizzled in the design of a chrysanthemum flower next to a small dollop of whipped cream. Beside this rests a small bowl of vanilla ice cream perched atop a healthy serving of thick apple pie. The crust is perfectly flakey and golden brown. Finnegan receives a similar display minus the ice cream and a much smaller portion, and instead of a chrysanthemum, the caramel is drawn into a bat. Finn loves catching bats.

“Your desserts never cease to impress” Finnigan comments.

I set the broom down next to the stool and move to take my seat.

“Ah ah ahh.” Mom chimes. “Let's put that where it belongs.” She points to the broom rack by the door. I roll my eyes and put the broom on the rack before returning to my stool and grabbing the fork.

“Dig in” pa says, passing a plate to ma.

I slip the fork through the pie and combine it with a bit of the ice cream. As I take the first bite I feel my taste buds explode in the rich spicy sweet flavour of late autumn. “Pa, thish ish amashin’!”

“Where did you pick up manners like that?” Ma eyes me from the other side of the counter.

“University dorms ma’am. Quite the unique dining experience compared to the refined manner in your own household.”

“Why thank you Finn. At least someone has retained his common courtesy since leaving the home.”

I swallow the bite and grin. “It’s still in here, somewhere, but I want to thoroughly enjoy this, no holding back.”

“Thad’a girl,” pa winks, taking a large mouthful himself.

Finnigan laps up his dessert with a refined air, grooming his whiskers with his paw. His feline actions make me smile, but his companion-like instincts make me shiver. I just know he won’t appreciate me saying he looks cute, which is precisely why I do it.

“Aww Finn, you're so adorable!” I say, grinning over my second to last bite.

“Don’t even think it.”

“I could just pet you!” I finish, stretching out a hand towards his little ears.

He gives me a flat stare. I hesitate, then do it anyway.

“You will pay for that.”

“What's the point of having a companion if you can’t show him love?” I ask rhetorically.

“It’s mutual. It doesn’t need to be shown. It’s been acknowledged.”

“You’re just grumpy.” I finish, licking the fork and placing it on the plate. “Pa that was amazing!”

“Thanks darling. You just let us know if you stay anywhere long enough for us to send you a package. Perhaps I can send you some desserts?” He offers with a smile.

“Of course! I’ll send you a card as soon as I can!” I feel slightly guilty for not telling them where I’m going.

Soon enough, dessert is over and my parents begin packing a bag of snacks and refreshments. It’s almost midnight and tonight is the full moon. The omens state that departing on the full moon is fortunate and favoured. I made it a habit to always travel on the full moon.

I take one last look around the house, making a mental picture of all my childhood comforts. It feels different than leaving for university had. Then, I knew I was coming back, now, I’m not so sure when the next time will be. The crackling fire and the fresh scent of herbs and flowers wafts around the open concept living space. It’s time to take my leave.

“Come Finnigan.” I call, grabbing my pack and the old mahogany broom, bristles still entangled with old webs.

Ma and Pa come to the door, holding an orange wrapped tower of snack packs. It was sort of like the Japanese Bento boxes wrapped in the cloth. It was so homey to look at.

“Well, Kerry. Your time has finally come to leave the nest. I remember on my 21st year I did just the same,” there was a hiccup in her voice. I can’t bare to listen.

“Ma, please. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“No no, don’t feel like you have to come back because of us. You’re starting your life now. We taught you all we can and you found your calling. We hope you have the greatest success on your journeys and… do take care of yourself and Finn.”

“Of course ma, Thank you. I’m gunna miss you guys.” I feel my own voice catch in the throat.

“Don’t waste your time worrying too much about us. We had our fun at your age too. Just do your best yea? Know that we love you, and if you get the chance, drop us a card or a charm or something ok?” Pa is even more cracked up than ma. It’s agonizing.

“Did you pack everything? You’re not forgetting that weather teller we got you last christmas? Or the goblin truffles my Runinoff found you?” Runinoff was Pa’s wolf companion. He’d been about tracking a non local wolf pack when they’d come across the rare goblins truffles growing beneath the old growth tree deep in the boreal forest last summer. Very useful in procuring prophetic dreams and the like.

“Yes, Yes, I got both of those, and the plant guide my uncle sent me on city herbs AND that thing you're about to say that doesn’t-seem-to-serve-any-particular-function-yet-but-might-when-the-time-arises.”

We giggle. “Ok, Good luck darling and Happy Birthday.” Ma cups my cheek and Pa patts my shoulder.

“Let’s go Kerry, or we’ll miss the meteor shower at 1:30.”

“Yes, yes, wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“No, We wouldn’t,” Finnigan seems to be in a grumpy mood of late. “Oh, and Morgen, The wolf Runinoff brought in last week, it's not indigestion she has. She’ll be having a litter on the Gibbious moon. She told me so.”

Pa blinks. “Oh, how did I ever mistake that. Thanks Finn.”

“Don’t mention it.” I hold open the carry bag that will strap to the broom handle as we fly and wait for Finnigan to get comfortable. Then, I step out onto the cold frosty moonlight porch, taking a deep chilling breath before turning to face my parents one last time.

“Well, I’m off!” I smile, winking to pa and blowing a kiss to ma. I mount the ancient broom and feeling the gathering of Etheria beneath the shaft of wood I launch off into the air at 70km/h. I can hear Finnigan’s yowls as I fly higher and higher, enjoying the cold wind wiping my thick cloak behind me and pulling my hair back.

Below, I can see the orange glow of the house getting smaller and smaller. Above, the last of the Aurora dances out of sight. The sky is clear, not a cloud in sight and the full moon lights everything up as if it were a second sun. My breath fogs in front of my face as I point my broom North, North-East towards Nunavut.

I revel in the swirling currents of Etheria as I fly on through the night with my companion. It’s going to be a great adventure. Full of new things and new people. I can’t wait. I hope I can lend a hand to whereever I am going. It’s the least that I can do.

#Fantasy #Magic