The Myth of Madame Mariposa: Part 4-The Power of Four

The Myth of Madame Mariposa: Part 4-The Power of Four

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Her hair bound into a ponytail; Ravenna continued to brush stray hairs from her face as she gardened. Perhaps it is time to cut my hair, she thought. Long her whole life, her hair was full of curls. Thick and dark brown when she was younger, she had considered it her best feature. Now that the gray is creeping in, maybe I should cut it short and start looking like a grandma. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. My face doesn’t look that old, does it?

“Hello, Ravenna. When did you return?”

Madame Mariposa paused in her weed pulling and looked up. It was Herman Stanley. Her daughter’s next-door neighbor was looking over the fence that separated their spacious backyards. Still a handsome man, she noted he had aged in the last three years since his wife Amanda had passed.

Ravenna smiled at him whilst inwardly cringing. Herman Stanley was a know-it-all, condescending, and male chauvinist. He tried to be funny, but could never quite pull it off and was only mean and insulting. An old farmer, he thought of himself as the salt of the earth when he was just salty. Ravenna had never liked him much, but for the sake of harmony, attempted friendliness. “Hello, Herman. I’ve been here a couple of days.”

“I heard you retired from the carnival business.” Grinning at her, with a note of mockery, he asked, “What are you going to do now? Maybe set up shop in town? You know, kids these days like that New Age stuff. Maybe, besides reading their fortunes, you can sell them some incense and books about hocus pocus and other nonsense. What’s that song? Age of Aquarius…” He chuckled.

Quelling her desire to throw her gardening spade at his head, she threw a barb instead. “No, I came back to help my daughter. I’ll be taking care of my grand-kid and the garden.” The story of Herman Stanley’s descent into the bottle after Amanda’s death had circulated throughout the area. His drinking problem, her daughter said, caused his near bankruptcy. The large family farm sold, and he’d moved in with her and the kids. It was the talk of their small town.

Knowing that she bested him, Herman furrowed his brows, but then smiled ever so slightly. “Good one, old girl,” he stated before turning and walking away.

Ravenna felt a little brutal for returning his mockery, but she soon forgot about it as she turned her efforts towards tending the garden.

**************************

“Baba, do you think Mommy and Daddy are having fun on their date night?” Zerlinda asked her grandmother before taking a sip from her mug. They were sitting at the kitchen table eating the apple pie that she and Ravenna had baked earlier and drinking hot cocoa.

Ravenna answered, “Of course they are. Are you having fun?”

Zerlinda smiled. “I always have fun with you, Baba.” She looked down at Magic. Having rubbed himself against her chair, the cat sat and stared at her with his big blue eyes. Zerlinda returned her gaze to her grandmother. “He can’t have any apple pie, right?” Ravenna responded with a shake of her head.

Zerlinda addressed him, “Sorry, Magic, kitty cats don’t eat apple pie.” His eyes blinked, and then his tail flicked side to side lazily. Then the cat got up and wandered out to the living room. Zerlinda asked her grandmother, “Baba, why are boys so mean sometimes?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Well, I was telling Myrtle…”

“Myrtle from next door?”

“Yeah. We were playing together, and I was telling her about your Moon Kingdom story. Her older brother, Mason, came up and said that fairy tales were for sissies. I told him he was stupid and then he pulled my hair. He said it was ugly.” With her recollection, Zerlinda became crestfallen.

Ravenna remembered her earlier encounter with Mason’s grandfather. She reached over and lifted her granddaughter’s chin. “Your hair is beautiful. Forget about it. He’s just grumpy like his grandpa.” Then she made a funny face, and Zerlinda laughed. The fortune-teller cocked her head and mused, “Now… Where was I in the story?”

Zerlinda’s face lit up. “You were at the part where they have to talk to the Tree of Light.”

“So, everyone assembled on the portico followed the Council of Seven to the Tree of Light. It was located right in the center of the palace of Hope. An area surrounded by pillars on all sides and open to the vast expanse of the heavens. Starlight shined down on the large tree. Glimmering, its broad branches spread over the courtyard. 

The Council of Seven surrounded the trunk of the tree. Encircling it, they held hands. Then, swaying, the council hummed, causing a great rumbling in the roots below the stones, and the rocks shifted a little. Becoming apprehensive, the crowd watched as the Council of Seven turned into a swirling mass of color as the noise and movement beneath their feet increased. Suddenly, the Council of Seven broke apart and rose into the air as colorful spheres, then floated away.

The Tree of Light opened like a door. Out of the gnarled trunk stepped an old crone with hair of dazzling white. In her hand, she carried a large staff. A root of the tree, she used it as a walking stick and approached the congregation before her.

The old lady stopped in front of the king and queen. The Crone of the Tree had a gentle expression and impartial manner. The Sun King smiled and bowed his head slightly at her. Seeing this, the Moon Queen copied his behavior.  

“Baba, what does impartial mean?”

“It means to be fair like a judge and listen to all sides. The king thought that the little old lady was nice and that he could easily bend her to his will. The Moon Queen knew what he was trying to do, and so she was going to do the same. Do you understand?”

“You mean he thought he could make her do what he wanted.”

“Exactly.”

Zerlinda forked the last bite of her pie into her mouth and chewed it as her grandmother continued.

“But the king had miscalculated. Instead of smiling back, the old crone looked at the Court Jester and gestured with her hand to his Marotte.”

Before Zerlinda could ask, Ravenna clarified.The baton he carried with a cloth head and strings of bells upon it.” As Zerlinda smiled in understanding, Ravenna continued. 

“The Court Jester gave his baton to her. The old crone took it and rapped the Sun King sharply on the head. ‘Ow!’ the king cried in unison with the tinkling of the bells. As he reached up and rubbed the top of his head, he asked, ‘Why did you do that?’ 

Meanwhile, the Moon Queen had a smug smile on her face and was feeling very pleased. But this did not last long, as the old crone performed the same action on her head. ‘Ow!’ the Queen squawked. She, too, rubbed her head and asked, ‘Why?’

The Crone of the Tree spoke. ‘You two are fools!’ Returning his baton to him, she nodded to the Court Jester and said, ‘No offense meant to you, Good Sir.’

The Jester bowed his head back and said, ‘None taken, Wise Mistress.’

The old lady turned back to the king and queen. ‘Your quibbling has caused much distress and arguments between your subjects. This nonsense has led to your current situation. Neither of you is fit to lead!’

With this statement, she raised her staff. The king and queen backed up as neither wanted to get hit again. But instead of delivering a blow, the Crone shook it at them, and a cloud of gleaming dust settled over them. The king and queen became mute and motionless, like statues. 

The Crone of the Tree turned to the gathering and proclaimed their fate. ‘They do not understand the Power of Four. After summoned, their children will have a quest to fulfill. These two will remain in a state of forgetfulness until the Sun Princess and Moon Prince solve the Riddle and achieve their tasks.’

Then she twirled her staff high above her head and created a sprinkle of sparkles. As they showered down upon her, she became obscured from view. When the shimmering cloud settled, she disappeared.”

Ravenna stopped and stood up. “Help me clean up these dishes and I’ll tell you a little more of the story. We’ll sit beside the fire with Magic.”

Next: The Myth of Madame Mariposa: Part 5-The Riddle

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Author/veterinarian J. Fremont has created Magician of Light, a novel about famed glassmaker Rene Laliqué. Exercise your imagination. Enjoy!