How To Find Your Way in Minced Forest

Write Preface in the search space below right to get to the Preface.To go to the table of contents, write table of contents in the search space below right. To read a chapter, write the number of the chapter in the search space. To read the tales in Fay Spanish, go to cuentosdelbosquetriturado.blogspot.com. Thank you.

Sunday 31 March 2024

281. The Fourth Moonly Letter

281. The Fourth Moonly Letter from Heather to her brother Arley, written during the bittersweet lilac moon and which deals with daring, jealousy and covert revenge served hot.

Hello, dearest brother,

I seem to be alone again. And I am about to drop by the local madhouse, to visit poor Beaurenard.

I first noticed he was missing at dinner last night. The wooden men appeared, with their long noses and their fancy tableware and expensive food, but there was no one there to eat the green grapes.

I asked them where Beaurenard might be. They huddled together amd stared at me, but they are not programmed to answer that. So I ate alone. Very little, because I was too worried to be thinking of food.

And this morning, sharp and punctual and on the round dot, Little Mauel came to my house to claim his promised monthly birthday cake. I had prepared for him a seven layer chocolate cake with cocoa icing and had decorated it  with fragrant lilac floret sugar. Lilacs are all edible, for they belong to the olive family. The difficult part when using them in the kitchen is to capture their delicate scent before it fleets away.  

Anyway, Little Mauel came in the company of Grandma Divina’s first cat, Purpurina. You know how this lovely fairy rainbow-coloured cat glitters and always leaves a trail of sparkling fairy dust behind her. The dust causes no problems because it vanishes two minutes after having touched ground. Purpurina nudged Mauel with her nose and purred “Tell her!” very softly. But Mauel was being contrary and paid no attention to her. When this had been going on for a while, always only before me, and avoiding Thistle and Quentin’s attention, I finally drew Purpurina aside and asked her in whispers what she was so concerned about.

“Tell me yourself,” I encouraged her.

“Haven’t you missed bonny Beaurenard?” she said. “Tawny Leonado of the Fox clan?”

“Why, yes! Where is he?”

Showing a lot of reluctance, she purred even lower.

“He’s been put in the booby hatch.”

“The what?” I asked.

“The bug house.”

Seeing my uncomprehending face, Purpurina added, “Bedlam. Mayhem. The snake pit. The laughing academy. If you don’t come out laughing, they don’t let you out.”

When I heard the word laughing, I remembered it was the first of April.

“He’s involved in some April Fool’s Day joke?”

“No. This is serious.”

“Bah!” scoffed Little Mauel, who was pretending not to listen but was.

“His brother Radley has poisoned Alpin.”

Now I understood even less.

“Why? Why would he do that?”

“For daring to ask you how to make cocoa icing.”

Unable to understand what Purpurina was telling me, I decided to go to the core of the question and speak with Beaurenard himself.

“Where is that madhouse?” I asked.

Now, there are carzy people all over Fayland, in fact, eccentric, to say the least, is a national fay trait or attribute. I don’t know anyone who isn’t at least mildly peculiar. But we all roam freely.

“There are no madhouses in Apple Island,” said Thistle, who had come up to us frowning. “What are you murmurring about?”

“I have a friend who seems to be in some kind of trouble. But don’t concern yourself with this, Thissy. Surely it isn’t more than a tempest in a teapot.”

“I repeat: there are no madhouses here in the island. Not  even outside, in the between worlds. So your friend must be in the mortal world if he is in one. Who are we talking about?”

“He’s at the Spa of Light,” growled Little Mauel. He grimaced at Purpurina to show he couldn’t understand how people could get information so wrong.

And the Spa of Light is a beautiful place, where, yes, it is true, that people who come to the island from the crushing outer worlds feeling distubred sometimes stop for a time to find inner peace again. But it is, as all else here, a spot of pleasure and a delight.

“You mean he’s resting at the local spa?”

“Who is resting where?” muttered Thistle crossly. “What have I been missing? Will you tell me what you are keeping from me?”

“Please tell her,” said Quentin, sticking his head and his voice into our circle.  

And I saw I would have two problems. One, about finding Beau. The other, keeping Thistle from finding out about him.

“A person I know has a brother who has fallen out with Alpin because of our  cocoa icing and there must have followed some kind of a row. This must have affected the person I know enough to have him seek solace and repose at the spa. It’s not a matter of great importance. You and Quentin were going rafting, weren’t you? Well, go ahead. I can handle this affair myself. It’s no big thing. Just a courtesy visit I will be doing.”

“To whom?” insisted Thistle suspiciously.

“To a hare fairy who is a childhood friend of Arley’s. Carry on as planned, Thissy. Do.”   

Fortunately, Quentin managed to persuade Thissy to do just that. Though she didn’t look too willing, they both departed. And now I will too. I need to see how Beau is. If I find him and learn more, I’ll continue this letter later.

It’s later.  So hi again. I have found Beau. It turned out he has never left my side, though he was also at the spa of light all this while.

The road to the Spa of Light is one of the most beautiful roads in Apple Island.  Though longish and thickly misty, flanked on both sides by murmuring pines and hemlock trees and hemlock bushes, night or day, there is always a light hovering around one, on one, and then on the spot where one must next step. Paying no heed to the murmurs of the pines, so they would not distract me, I gave a step forward entering the light on the spot before me that awaited my foot and then chasing the light to the next. And thus, with more and more light on the road as I stepped ahead, I finally got to the radiant spa. Its  pearly gates were, as I had heard they always are, wide open. Its windows and doors too, and light poured in and out of them like water. And the minute I stepped into the garden, Beaurenard appeared, whispering, “Hush! Hush and away from the pines!” And he led me to a sheltered place, a bower formed by rose trees, all in bloom and beneath them said, “I’ve never left your side. But I couldn’t show myself.”       

“Why?” I asked. “What has happened?”

“The ex demon wife has happened. Bride that is, bride. She thinks I poisoned her son with Easter eggs because I am crazy and she asked your grandfather to lock me up in an insane asylum. And your grandfather cried, “At last! Someone who knows just who to poison! No ramdom thing, this! We always have poisonings in the spring here. I have no idea why, but it's not because love is a fatal poison, or is it? Well done, boy! You've made me happy and I want to make you happy too!” So he gifted me with an all expenses paid vaccation in Easter Island, but asked me to lie low for a while. Lower, really, because I always do lie low. I’m rather low key, aren’t I?”

“And you didn’t say your brother did the poisoning to spare him blame?”

“There’s something about my brother that perhaps you should know,” Beau said, suddenly looking worried. “Don’t hold this against me, Heather. Surprises are a constant in my life. A part of my way of being. And a  gift from your grandfather this is, for he is my godfather. And I only use my gifts to do good. Please remember that.”

“A gift?”

“How shall I put this? My brother Radley is really my invisible brother.”

“But I’ve actually seen him. So he’s at least not always invisible.”

“You know how some children have invisible friends?”

“That’s because they really do, beings like us. Mortals say it’s because they have no one to play with and make up a friend, don’t they?”

“That’s exactly how Radley came to be. When we were little I saw your brother scampering with three hares in a meadow. The three hares in a meadow that now appear embroidered on his flag and painted on his shield. They were playing catch. It looked like fun and I wanted to join them, but the very sight of me would have scared the hares off, so I turned into a hare myself, and that is how my brother Radley was born. Brother Radley, the hare fairy.”

“You’re a shape-shifter. There’s nothing strange about that. I can turn into a sparrow or a swan myself. But there were two of you when I saw Radley. So it’s not exactly that.”

“Right. But I’m more than a shape-shifter. Your grandfather gave me a gift of ubiquity at my name day party. I can be in more than one place at a time. Ah, a  very grand party I can boast of having  had! Which is why I can modestly say I am very gifted.”

“Well that…that is…amazing. I suppose. But why did Radley poison Alpin?”

“He didn’t. That’s an established fact. I didn’t either. Radley only tempted Alpin to eat…something he shouldn’t have. We didn’t even really do that. I’m sounding like I am blaming myself for something that isn’t my fault. I’m far too scrupulous. Or it wouldn’t look like I did something wrong. You know how Alpin once ate berries that turned him into a nice young garbage-eater? And then he had a second helping and he became a quirky, one-eyed apple? And all that was because he had offended the fierce pookah Garth?”

I nodded.

“Well, Alpin was strolling through Minced Forest and he was probably looking for trouble because he was about to cross the pookah’s bridge when he ran into me, that is, into my brother Radley, who was sitting under a tree staring fixedly at something. `What are you looking at?´ the Unchangedling demanded of  my brother. `No, nothing!’ said my brother very quickly. And Alpin looked where my brother had been looking and that was under the Pookah’s bridge, and there was this huge basket of chocolate Easter eggs and chicks and bunnies and other cute spring symbol figures the Pookah was going to hide in the forest for the children who live or play there to find.


Why would the pookah do that? You see, ever since your Uncle Gen discovered Pomsylvania, some of us have been persuading Garth to improve his image. Now, we know Alpin loves chocolate, don’t we?”

“Oh, Beaurenard!” I sighed. “How could you?”

“You see? You, too, are blaming me for something I haven’t done. `Out of my way, thieving hare! I’m going to confiscate that basket before you decide to steal it, hesitator!´ he shouted at me.

I actually told him not to touch the basket, and even fought him for it, not too violently, perhaps, because I am not violent by nature and never by choice. Only necessity. I did finally pull the basket away from him, though. Unfortunately, there was only one little chocolate pony left in it when I finally got hold of it. Alpin had eaten  even the wrapping of those sweets that were wrapped in colourful tinfoil. Quickly, very quickly. In a flash.”

“Oh, Beau! What happened next?”

“I can’t tell you. Or anyone. I would be squealing on the pookah. And that is the last thing I want to do. But before anything did happen, Alpin and I had a few unfriendly words, I saying, ‘Shame on you! A married man stealing sweets from babies!´  `You lousy, macilent and hesitant hare, as if you weren’t about to do the same!´ he responded, `I’d tell you what I think of you, loafing procrastinator,  if I had time, though it’s not worth the trouble.’  

He knew he had to get away before the pookah found him out. And I would bet he hoped Grim Garth  would think I was to blame for the disappearance of the chocolate figures. So one might think he may have disappeared because he wanted to. The only clear fact is that Alpin disappeared from sight.

His wife came looking for him shortly afterwards,  but I made myself and the basket and the milk chocolate pony invisible. Next, his  mother came looking for him and joined his wife, who had called for help from Alpin’s family. Aislene and Betabel shouted and shouted his name. Ah, how that demon woman can screech!  But Alpin didn’t show. Finally his brother showed up, moving slowly, silently, as spookily as is his manner, and I made the basket visible. And you know what? The Dark Man must have a sweet tooth too, because he ate the chocolate pony. Slowly, savoring it, looking pensive… You know how he likes horses and such, so I guess he couldn’t resist the pony.”

“That could be. And then?”

“He looked around him. But before he could ask whoever might be lurking about to show themselves, which we would have had to do, for he can’t be said no to,  why, No no Darcy vanished.”

“Into thin air too?”

“That is all I can say,” finished  Beau, shaking his head and biting his lips after he said this.

I suppose you, Arley, being where you are, know what really happened by the bridge. The little rest of what I know is that someone told Mrs. Dullahan they had seen Alpin tugging with a hare fairy at a basket. Miss Aislene was able to identify Radley, and went to complain about him to Grandpa.

As you know, Grandpa hates to be disturbed. Grandpa tried to dispatch her saying Radley was an imaginary fairy and couldn’t be held to account for what he supposedly did, being unimpeachable because he was inexistent. Mrs. Dullahan said that if Radley was unreal, Beauregard had to be crazy, because only weirdos have imaginary brothers and such. She insisted Grandpa lock him up in an insane asylum until the psychiatrists made him talk and confess what he had done to Alpin.

That was when Grandpa said what he would do was send Beau on an all expenses paid luxury trip to Easter Island. He wanted to give him more than the medal he deserved. Grandpa always hates having trouble, but more so at Easter. It reminds him of the Botolph years, trouble too long ans still too recent. So he shooed Mrs. Dullahan from his clubhouse. She was unable to seduce him, because she was so angry that she looked more like a harpy than an ideal bride. You know how the harpies have pretty faces but bark at you like ferocious hounds.

As the woman left, red-faced and spitting snakes and toads,  AEternus shouted after her, ‘If you find Alpin, tell him not to return to the fay world till after the Easter holidays!”

Mrs. Dullahan was and is outraged. And she still doesn’t know not only Alpin is missing. She thinks Darcy has hidden himself so as not to have to listen to her nag him about searching for his brother.”

I asked Beau why he hadn’t left for Easter Island, what with the mortal expenses paid and all. He said he had come to the spa because he knew Mrs. Dullahan would hear he was there but would never go anywhere near it. He said Radley was at Easter Island, checking it out and if he liked and recommended the place, why not drop by that island ourselves when the coast was clearer?

And then someone came searching for Beau to tell him that Garth the pookah had come to the spa to see him. I thought he had come to accuse Beau of having a finger in this mess, but it turned out Beau had called him. Beau received him and gave him a replacement basket cramped with chocolate Easter eggs and figures, because he didn’t want the forest kids to go without candy because of Alpin.

“You think I haven’t already seen to that, Leonado?” said the Pookah, slightly offended.

“Ah, I thought you would. I know you will give them enough candy to last all spring, but my…friend, Heather here, is going to be godmother of one or another of the cat babies. The Atshebies. I thought she might want to give them some candy too. Better late than never.”

“If they ever get to have a Name Day Party,” growled Garth.

“When I leave this place, I will see what can be done about that,” said Beau.

Meanwhile… Have you ever been to the Spa of Light, Arley? This is a truly beautiful place, even for Apple Island. It doesn’t surprise me that it is hard for visitors to leave. I promised Beau we would have dinner together every night at the Spa since it wouldn’t be prudent for him to show himself at my home just now. When I promised Beau I would, he smiled most pleased and said, "Those who come here should wear flowers in their hair!" And there was this crown of roses he had been weaving with his own hands as he spoke to me and the pookah, and he placed it on my head and... 

Dear Arley, this is important: if you can,  please let me know  whether I should be concerned for Alpin and Darcy or not. I am sure you know what has happened to them. Beau says I have no cause to worry about Alpin. But I am worried, and would rather not be. But if I have to be, I will be. 

I am enclosing a recipe for Lilac Sugar for Aunt Dacia. I will be making a cheesecake for Little Mauel’s next birthday next month and I will make a second cake and send it to you too. I know you love cheese cakes.

Lilac Sugar Recipe

Wash your hands.

Prepare one cup white granulated sugar.

Prepare a small preserves jar.

Pick enough lilac flowers  to fill 1/3 cup making sure you have removed stems and leaves and that you have separated them from the cluster. Be gentle, don’t break any.

Do not wash or wet the flowers, for they could lose their aroma and would soggy the sugar,  but do wash your hands again, for they are likely to be sticky from removing stems and such.

Place a few spoonfuls from this one cup of sugar in the bottom of a preserves jar.

Place a heap of lilac flowers on top of the spoonfuls of sugar already in the jar.

Repeat, making more layers. The top layer must be of sugar. Leave about an inch of space over that top layer so you can later shake the contents.

Cover the  jar with its lid and shake the contents.

Shake the contents of the jar once a day every day for a week. This should avoid clumps.

If all goes well, after about seven days the flowers will be preserved and candied and the fragrance of the lilacs should be preserved too.

You can remove the flowers from the jar and use them to decorate cakes and biscuits, or you can leave them in the sugar and add spoonfuls to tea and other drinks. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

About Me

My blogs are Michael Toora's Blog (dedicated to my pupils and anyone who wants to learn English and some Spanish), The Rosy Tree Blog (dedicated to RosE), Tales of a Minced Forest (dedicated to fairies and parafairies), Cuentos del Bosque Triturado (same as the former but in Fay Spanish), The Birthdaymython/El Cumplemitón (for the enjoyment of my great nieces and great nephews and of anyone who has a birthday) and Booknosey/Fisgalibros (for and with my once pupils).