Helen Speaks

Lucy Skylark Entry 10, 5th May.

Dear Vera,

Yesterday I woke up with a headache and all I could see in my mind’s eye was rain… in a circle. I’ve had feelings about the weather since the strange magical storm and I decided I needed to find out what it was. As I saw it in my mind,, the circle of rain spread across from the marshes at the top of Barkmouth, down to the estuary in the south, from the town centre to the cliffs from east to west.

Well, I put on my raincoat and decided to walk. It seemed most sensible to go to where the middle of the storm would be, and, sure enough, the closer I got, the more rain there was. It was driving and windy, pushing me away. I don’t know much about weather, but when I got near to a group of houses and discovered the wind pushing away from it in all directions, I became certain that a person was behind it. This couldn’t just be random patterns of weather fronts and things. Or a butterfly flapping its wings!

The wind seemed to be coming from a little flat near the top of an ugly red-brick block.

I suddenly started feeling a bit nervous. How exactly did I think I would take down some evil weather wizard? I was alone. I didn’t even have Teddy with me as I’d thought it best to leave him to keep an eye on Suki and the chicks. Well, I’m a witch, and last time this happened, the trees themselves helped me… so I went inside.

I was hoping I’d find some shelter from the wind, but it was even worse inside. The wind and the rain howled down the stairwell and lashed at me as I climbed the stairs.

I knocked at the door at the top – and then a man pulled open the door, his face frantic. “Not safe,” he said. “Not safe… Maksym… He need help.”

He had an accent – Eastern European I think. There was a boy in the middle of the living room, and he was soaked as he cried and rain and wind flew from him to the whole room.

It was terrifying, Vera, but I was suddenly excited too. He was a little boy, maybe 10 at most. And he had magic!

“He calm soon,” said the man. “And then stop. Sorry, English bad.”

I remembered how I’d learned some words in Punjabi and helped our neighbour Mr Akhtar. Surely I could help Maksym too? Maybe he’d calm down on his own, but…

“Do you have a dictionary?” I asked the man, as the wind howled around us.

He found one, sheltered in a box – then he beckoned me to a little makeshift fort he’d made where he invited me to sit. “Dry here, we wait,” he said. He smiled sheepishly. In the shelter, as he took a moment to breathe as Maksym’s storm raged around us, I took a moment to look at him, and I saw that he seemed a gentle, thoughtful man, in his thirties, worried about his son.

I leafed through the book and looked for “witch”, then I leafed back.

Відьма meant witch, but also meant beldam, bearcat, nightmare!

I needed something softer, at least for now. Magic could be a problem too… I tried the word “miracle”.

“твій син чудо – Your son is a miracle.”

I said that, and he laughed, probably at my pronunciation, but the tenseness in his eyes softened.

“Maksym scared. Saw bad things in war. Here is safer. But he struggles.”

Oh, of course. It’s hard to imagine war, here in Barkmouth. I don’t really watch the news anymore. But it seemed that Maksym and his father were refugees.

I stood up, and got back out of the shelter, to find Maksym, still crying and raging, but – now he looked scared too. As if he was trapped.

“Maksym? I’m Lucy. You are a miracle.”

He seemed surprised to see me standing there, not scared, because now I wasn’t, and because I wasn’t, he wasn’t either. Gradually, the rain subsided, and he collapsed into a small heap onto the sodden carpet.

“Sometimes it all comes out of me,” he told me. “I hurt Tato. Or myself. I heard some people nearly got washed away in the flood. But I can’t stop it when I’m scared.”

“It’s ok to be scared. This is a gift you have. And you can learn to use it well.”

He sniffled and I’m not sure he believed me. But he climbed onto a chair while his father – Artem – made us tea and helped translate when we struggled. I promised I’d visit again soon.

Do you know anyone who could help them, Vera? You always said we shouldn’t be scared of our power, but I am a little scared of Maksym’s and so is he! But I know he could be a great witch. He seemed like such a nice, caring kid once we got talking. I hope he can get a mentor like you.

Thanks for everything you do, Vera.

Your friend,

Lucy.

From: Vera Sparrowfield
3 The Willows
Grainthorpe

Dear Lucy,

My dear, you did the right thing in reaching out to me! Of course we must help this new friend of yours! I fear you have exposed a little hypocrisy of mine, because while I firmly believe that our powers are not something we should shy away from or be frightened of, I did feel quite scared for you as I read your letter. Fear is sometimes a friend and a guide, Lucy, although like all friends, not one we should surrender all our will to!

I feel that you could help young Maksym with a variation on the Magical Barrier that you made – some sort of dampener, if you’ll pardon the phrasing. You could try sewing it into a wristband – perhaps try different needles and threads – I’ll send some metallic yarn – to see what works best. The key thing is to give Maksym control rather than dampening his power entirely. As you are both witches, part of the power of the dampener will come from both of your respective faith that it will work. So, work with Maksym, ensure that he understands that it will be something to help him and not to entirely block his powers. You did a good job in helping him to see that his powers are a gift – I applaud you for the use of the term “miracle”! Being a witch is about so much more than the powers that we have, and Lucy, you are showing with your responsibility and compassion for others that your ability as a witch goes far beyond your magic.

Something that I think bears thinking about – you mentioned that during the previous magical storm, the oak tree remembered a similar event, and I believe that storm started further out east. Are you sure that your friend Maksym was behind that? You may not find out the answer but it’s worth remaining aware.

I would very much appreciate if I could borrow the encyclopaedia that your friend Bea Furness gave you. I’ll send you the yarn and threads I promised!

All of The Willows send greetings and their love.

Be well Lucy,

Your friend Vera.