154. Blackberry Stains

A year had gone by and the Thorn Fauns, Pons, Mons and Fons, were at their farm, clearing fields before the first snows fell.They had harvested their pumpkins in October, but were heaping up surpluses in a little shed. There they would be safe from the snow and available to forest creatures, who were welcome to take what they needed when they needed it.

Michael came out of the forest and climbed up to the farm waving at the fauns from a distance. He was pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with six large sacks. It was difficult to move uphill and the brothers came down to help him.

“I would like to have one of those pumpkins you’ve got there to make a pie for Thanksgiving. I have a lot to be grateful for. I will leave three sacks full of walnuts and another three of almonds in its place for the forest creatures, of course.”

“Are you grateful because you survived your Halloween Party?” smiled green-haired, black-thorned Mons.

“Yes, indeed.”

“Arley was polite enough to tell you he had taken the liberty of inviting Littler Mathilde and her Mutter to the Halloween Party. You said he had done well. But what neither of you expected was that Mütterchen would bring friends with her,” said Pons.

“An army of friends,” nodded Fons.

“You should have seen your face when you saw five hundred armed ghost warriors advancing on your garden,” said Pons. 

“You should have seen ours,” added Mons. “Especially when the Valkyries flew in after them on their winged horses.”

“Singing toyotoho!” laughed Fons.

“I crawled into the largest carved pumpkin and hid there till the party was almost over.What exactly happened?” asked Michael.

“They rolled out barrels of beer and we got to celebrate the October Fest. With acordeons and polkas. Look!”

Fons pointed at a gingerbread heart with fancy blue icing round it and the word Schatz written on it in pink icing that hung from a light green ribbon round his neck.. “Pons and Mons have eaten theirs, but I am saving this for my girlfriend.”

“They gave no warning that they were coming, but they did give thanks for the party. Mathilde’s mother sent me a thank you note the day after. She said they had lent Valhalla to people they considered friends and found they could not celebrate there in the usual German tradition while the hall was occupied.They were delighted to have been able to party their way this October in what she called my beer garden. She thanked me for being both generous and openminded with her people.”

 “We thought there would be fighting, but despite their barrels of beer and our whisky most of the dead warriors spent the night telling Don Quijote all about the battles they had fought in and how they had died and been carried off to Valhalla,” said Fons.

“My hat is off to the Valkyries,” said Pons. “Every time someone was about to get out of hand, they hit him on the head with a tray and that enforced the law.”

“Everybody gave three cheers for Littler Mathilde’s mother,” said Mons.

“And for Littler Mathilde,” said Fons.

“And for Oberon,” said Pons.

“And for me, in ausentia. I heard that,” said Michael.

“That is what women are good for,” said Fons Redthorn.

“Civilization,” nodded Michael. “If you respect them. If you don’t, it’s warfare and chaos you get, with or without alcohol.”

“Is that your cousin Alpin coming up the mountain?” asked Fons. “He didn’t eat or drink a thing till after the party and then he cleaned up the site. Even the Germans were impressed with his efficiency. He ate up all the rubbish. What is he eating now?”

With a moué of disgust, Fons peered at Alpin, who was leisurely climbing up the mountain, pausing every now and then to savour something he  licked off leaves and branches in his path.

                        

“The droppings of birds are like pieces of chocolate candy to me,” answered Alpin himself. He was carrying a fallen and abandoned bird’s nest and proving what he said.

“I don’t know, but it’s a year now since the Pookah turned this kid into an adult vacuum cleaner. I suppose he has learned his lesson,” said Mons. “Perhaps there is a way to break the spell he is under.”

“My mum would love that,” said Alpin. “She’s ashamed of me now. She never was before.”

“That was when she had reason to be,” said Michael. “Not now. But your mum is the spirit of contradiction.”

“I suppose she had to defend him then,” said Mons, who was one of Aislene’s many unconditional male admirers and always took her side and defended her in quarrels. “That made her strong. Now she can’t fight against people who say they like Alpin, even if they only mean to spite her when they say so.”

             

      

 “Hypocrites,” nodded Fons and Pons.

“They say it takes a blackberry to remove a stain caused by another blackberry. Alpin got this way because he ate a defiled blackberry after the third harvest. Maybe if he now eats another he will turn into himself again.”

“I’d rather die than eat clean blackberries.I find them revolting. But if the Púca has spat on one, maybe I’ll be able to eat that. Has cousin Garth been around here defiling the blackberries?”

It turned out there were blackberry bushes near the farm. And the Thorn Fauns knew the Pookah had protected them in his revolting way.

                                     

                  
 “Here goes,” said Alpin, and he swallowed one polluted blackberry.

 “Horrors!” cried the Fauns and Michael, together like a Greek chorus.