285. The Seventh Moonly Letter

 The Leafies speak: This is the letter Heather will write to her brother Arley during the seventh month of the fay lunar calendar, just as we have read it in Predictit Pond.

285. The Seventh Moonly Letter,  Written Under the Red as Rubies Moon in Which Enemies and Friends Worse Than Enemies Have to be Identified so a Lucky Day Won't be Unlucky.

Dearest brother,

I hope this finds you well. Over here, we are finding it far from easy to organize a Name Day party for the Atshebies. Beau, who is still paranoid about the oyster affair, can’t seem to concentrate on anything but that.

“And I knew Alpin was always telling Betabel Heather this and Heather that. And always Heather does it better! So I really thought she would be better off without him. And she was. But I hadn’t thought she would be vengeful! I wish I had acted the first time he harassed her and not waited until she showed up at Heather’s place asking for the cocoa icing recipe. I thought that as long as they didn’t come anywhere near us, they had a right to their own space.”

I went into my garden and caught Beau there saying all that to Thistle, and Thistle wasted no time in answering him.

“You dealt with Alpin the way he should be dealt with. I always thought my brother was being wishy-washy about him. Arley was always helping Alpin get away with the trouble he caused. A drastic solution would have been better, more definite. Betabel should have thanked you for getting him turned into an oyster.”

“I’m glad to hear you think so. Still, I can’t help feeling bad about the pearls. I was thinking of stealing the oyster to protect it, but Betabel might have raised a row if I had. And if anyone got wind that I had filched the oyster, why, they would say I had stolen it because I wanted the extraordinary pearls it made for myself. Nothing further from the truth, I assure you!”

“I know! It’s disgusting how many good people get blamed for being kind!” Thistle growled.

“I am so happy Heather was able to persuade Betabel not to torture the oyster more than she had.”

“Oyster, oyster!” I cried. “There is no longer any oyster! Stop feeling guilty about a problem that has been solved to almost everyone’s satisfaction and concentrate on the Atshebies’ chances of having a party, Beau,” I said to him. He shook his head and said the chances were few, if any.

“They have to have a Name Day Party!” glowered Thistle. “I’ve seen those kittens,and they are cute, but if they don’t have the party they have every right to have they will go ungifted, and that means they will grow up to be colourless and lustreless and dull and clumsy fairies. And that’s not the way fairies should be! No fairy should go ungifted!”

But Beau had been to Castle Attor to consult with the Atshebies’ parents and things looked bad for the kittens. As you can see, in the picture of Beau and the kittykids, Beau looks older than usual. He explained that he always tries to look older than usual when he speaks with Atty. Atty has that effect on some people because he generally looks a little haughty himself, and people want to rise to the challenge and be a match for him themselves.

The minute the little ones had heard him say why he was there, they had began to purr and meow asking their father why they couldn’t have a Name Day Party like everyone else did.

“Hush, kids! You’ll upset your mother! If you’ve come to discuss this, speak low, Beaurenard,” said Atty. “I don’t want Shebie to hear us. She gets all worked up when someone mentions Jocosa.”

So Beau asked in whispers,  “Is it really that difficult? Jocosa has been to other Name Day Parties where she has generally gifted children with the ability to laugh at themselves. It’s not a bad gift.”

“It may not be,” said Atty, “but it’s not just Jocosa’s gift  we are wary of.  Her friends will want to gift her grandchildren too, and will invite themselves if we don’t invite them. This  kind of people give kids gifts like the ability to turn into a croaking toad every time the clock strikes an hour. You know, like a cuckoo that comes out of a clock. And they don’t make that a matter of choice. They make it happen whether one wants this or not. Because they find it hilarious. Like when they made poor little baby Fen go cross-eyed because they thought he looked cuter that way.  It took the ophthalmologist wizard Casimir three months to reverse the spell and  uncross the poor little kid’s eyes.” 

“I see,” said Beau. “What they give is more like a curse than a gift.”

“Right!” continued Atty. “And speaking of curses, Jocosa’s enemies, and she has quite a few resentful people after her, might crash the party too, to take revenge on her grandchildren for something she and her gang did. I don’t want my kids to not be able to spin for fear of pricking themselves and falling into a coma for a hundred years and horrible fates like that. Not that I would set them to spin, but in case they want to, I have to make sure they can.”

“Anything we do will have to be done in covert secrecy and mum silence,” said Beau. “That is the conclusión I have reached. If we knew who all the possible partycrashers might be, we could neutralize them beforehand. But we don’t know do we?”

“Kill them?” asked Atty. “I’d have to think about it, but it´s not like I wouldn’t want to.”

“What I meant is more like we could put them all to sleep for a week or so. But we needn’t consider drugging them or anything yet because we have no idea who they are. We know of some, but many of these supposed jokesters disguise themselves before attacking, so there’s no telling who inflicted harm.”

“Cowards,” nodded Atty.

“I’m not surprised they should be, because messing with someone like you is far from safe, isn’t it, Attor? You're really a lion or a panther fairy, not a cat, aren't you?”

“Dangerous as I should be,” said Atty.

“Still, that might not stop them. They are mostly arrant fools.”

“Out and out  imbeciles,” agreed Atty.

When Beau  told me about his conversation with Atty, I adviced him to consult Uncle Gen, in case the Preventers might have a list of members of the Jocose Gang as well as another of people with reason to hold grudges against the Atshebies’ nan. Please don’t think I am telling you this to get you to give us information, Arley. I know you can’t do that. But the Preventers might be able to, because after all, their business is preventing, and we want to prevent all the harm that could be done to the kittykids.

But if you have any ideas about what to do to help, please do tell me.

While we were deciding when and how to contact Uncle Gen, Grandpa suddenly came strolling along the street where Thistle’s house and mine are. He stopped at the gate of my house and made signs for Beau and I to approach him. So we did.

“Thank you for not bothering me with the Atshebie party affair,” he said.

“I always try not to bother you,” said Beau.

“I know. That’s why I am thanking you for it. This girl has never counted on me for anything either. Or so I believe. Have you, girl?”

“Not that I can remember right now,” I said.

“Good!” said Grandpa. “And since the wellborn must be grateful, I will give you something to show my gratitude.”

He stuck his hand in his coat pocket and searched for something inside it. When he found what he wanted, he drew it out. It was a pomegranate. A very fine red one. The most classic pomegranate I have ever seen. It was pretty obvious that was what it was. It was like when you say, “This is a pomegranate,” and show your audience one. Yes, a model pomegranate.

“It isn’t fall yet,” said Beau. “There are already pomegranates? Ripe ones! This one looks ripe.”

“In one of my gardens it is always autumn,” said Grandpa.

“Ah. Yes, of course,” said Beau.

“You should know that. You´ve been there. Don’t go about forgetting what you know. It isn’t convenient.”

“I remember perfectly. I suppose I wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s not convenient either,” said Grandpa. “And very dangerous for someone like you. You’ll have to cut this fruit in half. It’s for both of you,” said Grandpa, handing me his gift. And then he vanished.

“Can one get mingier?” shouted Thistle, who was standing a little ways behind us. 

We turned to see Quentin nod.

“One for two,” he said.

“Granpa could at least have given you a couple of the golf balls he always has in his pockets. Do you think he is doddering? Maybe we should think he is a poor old man,” added Thistle.

“What shall we do with this?” I asked Beau. “Should I make pomegranate molasses?”

“Six hundred and thirteen,” Beau said.

Do you know what he meant, Arley? I’m sure someone like you does.

I am sending you a large bottle of  pomegranate molasses, in case anyone wants to try it on fruit salads, yoghourt or ice cream. I didn’t make the molasses with Grandpa’s gift. I had some already made at home. But all this inspired me to make Little Mauel a ginger and pomegranate molasses cake for his seventh monthly birthday. Ah, and the kitten in the picture below is Neferniki playing with our pomegranate. He forgot to put on his whiskers for the picture. 

Love, Heather.

P.S. I don’t think you were wishy-washy about Alpin. I would have treated him the same way you did. You know that. And I’m enclosing the recipe for the molasses.

Recipe for Pomegranate Molasses:

Very easy. You only need about eight large and ripe pomegranates, one half cup sugar plus two tablespoons of more sugar and a large lemon.  

You have to obtain four cups of pomegranate seeds. Open the pomegranates cutting them in half horizontally. Free the seeds or arils, arils is what some people call pomegranate seeds, striking the shell halves with a wooden spoon or a tiny hammer and occasionally squeezing the shells. Once you have freed the seeds, put them in a blender and blend to break them up and obtain juice, but don’t blend too much because you don’t want anything but the juice. Pour the liquid through a strainer to separate the juice from the more solid remains of the pomegranate seeds. Put the juice in a pot together with the lemon juice and the sugar. Stir well and set to simmer. Do not allow the mixture to boil. It must simmer for a little less than an hour and you must stir it now and again and make sure that the sugar doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot. When the mixture coats the spoon and slides off slowly, the molasses is ready. Remove from the fire and allow to cool for about half an hour. It should thicken a little when it cools. Once cool you can use it immediately or put it in a bottle or jar and it can be kept in the fridge for about half a year.