Chapter XI - Are We Ever Really Gone?

Chapter XI 

Are We Ever Really Gone? 

by Faith McCann 

The Rag and Bottle Shop is a consignment shop. A large, old, three storied house situated on a slight rise of land overlooking the main street of the village Castlewick. The Rag and Bottle shop is a shop which provides many remedies for various maladies, primarily of the troublesome human sort. One would go to the apothecary for headache pills but people came to Catsandra for issues they felt were out of their control. Some people were even brave enough, or desperate enough to come seeking remedies for more supernatural troubles, and these she was expert in providing. 

On this day, it was a bright, warm, beautiful day, yet over the old house hung a black cloud with lightening strikes and a steady rain storm which gave the Rag and Bottle shop a gloomy, dark visage. The demarcation on the sidewalk where the dry met the straight line of wet was a wonder and people walking found themselves slowing their steps until they came right up to the line, then stopping. After looking up at the Rag and Bottle shop, a few by standers looked at one another. 

An old grizzled man, the town's blacksmith commented to no-one in particular "Looks like the Lady is in a most foul mood today. Best be giving her wide berth and move on our way." He looked at the two women and one other gentleman standing on the sidewalk, gave a decisive nod of his head, hunched his shoulders and braved the rain as he needed to pass the old house and it's singular rain storm to get back to his forge in the village center. 

After a time the others moved along, some choosing to get wet, others turning and going back the way they came. Still others came along the way, throughout the day.  But forging ahead was not such a hardship as the clear weather resumed after passing the shop. 

* * *  * * *   * * * 

Inside of the shop the atmosphere was somber. Catsandra was standing behind the sales counter in the big room placing tiny candles for simple spells in small glass containers. It was strangely silent as she normally would be singing or humming while she worked. She was not happy, in fact she was filled with grief, anger and sadness at the death of her good friend and mentor Mother Shermona. She worked quietly and her familiars were near but keeping quiet and allowing her her space. Cats and mice are excellent at understanding that there are times that one needs caring friends close by but silent at times, to process, to heal. 

The door bells jangled as the door opened and a man entered the shop. Catsandra sighed softly and took a deep breath while she straightened her shoulders and put on a slight smile as she raised her eyes to greet her latest client. She was slightly surprised to see Mr. Charles, a portly, balding, short man, whom she recognized as a local attorney.  He was shaking his coat off as he had not thought to bring a hooded cloak for poor weather. His hat was dripping from it's brim. He took that off as well. He looked around the quaint, yet elegant surroundings and finally saw her across the room. 

She smiled slightly as it occurred that everyone tries to cast a bit of their own magic to make themselves appear to others they way they wish. Some women wear make up, people of all genders wear wigs.  Mr. Charles, who walked as if he had a string pulling him just about off the ground, obviously wished to be considered taller than he was. He strode up to her sales counter looking a bit disheveled and very soggy. 

"Good day, Mr. Charles. How can I help you this day?" her greeting was soft but without it's usual lilt. 

"Ms. Catsandra. May I have a word with you? It is of some importance." It was then she saw he carried a flat, brown, leather portfolio, which he then unceremoniously plopped onto her counter and fishing a kerchief out of his pants pocket frantically wiped spots of water off of the fine leather finish. 

She remained silent as he finished and when he had, he looked up at her, and gave a slight exasperated "huff". His forehead was glistening with rain or sweat, she wasn't sure, as it was his regular look, of the many times she had seen him in the village. Always scurrying, always in a rush, like a small rabbit, hurrying to and fro. 

Catsandra smiled just oh so slightly and indicated with her arm, that he should follow her. She walked over to the part of her sales room that had the small table and chairs set up for visitors. They passed gleaming, polished antique furniture. Side tables, tea tables, embroidered foot stools, shelfs of jars and bottles filled with herbs, crystals, potions and crystal balls of varying sizes and colors all set upon gleaming carved wooden bases. 

The entire shop was cool and darkened, lit with ambient lighting from small oil lamps and candles. Even though it was daylight outside the interior always had an early evening feeling to it. The walls, what were not covered with wooden and glass display cabinets filled with a myriad of tiny, curious objects, and paintings of nature scenes, were a dusky red and the wood surround was a darker mahogany.  

Catsandra preferred the cool, elegant feel to the shop. It was fitting an homage to the grand history of the old house and what it had once been. She knew at one time this building housed a wealthy old family, wealthy and popular. Many a tale still circulated about the parties, both inside holiday parties and summer garden parties that had once been held here. Back when times were more prosperous for all, and the house didn't hold a business. 

. . . "Mother Shermona wanted you to have it". 

Catsandra started at the name of her dear, departed friend and looked in suspicion at the little, greasy man. She had allowed her thoughts to wander, a habit she had developed of late which kept her from falling into the abyss of sadness and loss. But this man, was speaking of Shermona? 

"Excuse me, sir. I'm afraid I didn't hear you. Could you please repeat that?" Catsandra shifted in her small, dainty, embroidered chair and leaned a bit forward now completely focused on the solicitor. 

Mr. Charles, with an obvious look of exasperation, as he really didn't much care for these kinds of unusual places, glanced nervously around him, then cleared his thought loudly. 

"I HAVE COME HERE TO INFORM YOU . . . " his raised voice stopped mid sentence when her hand went up, palm facing him. 

"Mr. Charles, there is no need to raise your voice. I am not hard of hearing. I simply . . .  wasn't listening to you." When his mouth fell agape at her unabashed honesty she continued " I am ready now. Please continue, you . . . mentioned . . .  Mother Shermona?" She tried, very hard to keep a waver out of her voice, 

" I have come here to inform you that Mother Shermona left her business, in the event of her death . . . " he paused for a moment as she grew pale but as she braced herself, lifted her chin and remained silent as he went on " for me to handle." He removed some papers from his portfolio and looked at them then carefully laid them down on the small table in front of her. "I am here to dispatch my duties on behalf of Mother Shermona." 

Catsandra let the papers lie where they had been placed. 

"You Ms. Catsandra, are to receive her cottage and all within."  He then grew a shade paler himself as he peeked into his portfolio, and gingerly with two fingers as if he wanted to touch it as little as possible, withdrew a wooden wand. About a forearms length, as a wand was typically measured from the point of the elbow of the witch who wielded it to the end of her ring finger. It was a handsome wand, made from the wood of the elm tree. It still had a grip of natural bark and the rest had been removed revealing the reddish brown wood of the branch. He dropped it onto the table top as if it burned his fingers and as she glanced from him to the beautiful wand she thought it probably had! Wands knew the heart of the one touching them. 

           Mother Shermona's Magic Wand left to Catsandra 

"Ahem .  .  . this is the key?" he said questioning. He had been instructed as such, by his client, and he looked at Catsandra for elaboration. She picked it up and held it lovingly and she could hear a slight voice whisper in her ear, " The Woods" " Go to the woods". She knew no one else could hear. 

"Of course, it is. The key." Suddenly she could abide his presence no longer. HIs mind and heart were so closed and tight it made her feel as if she couldn't breath. She preferred to stay away from such beings as he and his nefarious practices, though sadly some, like the recording of last wishes and ownership of property required such a profession. As unsavory as it could be. She rose "Thank you Mr. Charles. Will that be all?" 

He looked decidedly disappointed that she wasn't planning on elaborating about the wand, and opened his portfolio again and took out a small pottery jar. She knew, just knew absolutely it contained Mother Shermona's remains. This was the first she knew that she had been cremated. It may be convenient for some, but others had different ideas about how to honor the remains after a loved one has passed. She would deal with this properly. She looked at him directly and with a raise of her eyebrow, he packed up his portfolio and got up. 

He put on his coat, raised the collar and grasping his hat, looked out a window. It was still raining buckets, but was only until he reached the bottom of the slight hill and the sidewalk met the street. If he didn't slip he could get there in 20 paces, maybe less. 

"Don't slip. Thank you, for your service." Her parting words were quiet but he quickly spun his head around to look at her in surprise when she told him not to slip. 'These types', he thought. 'Humph I will be better off far from here.' 

The bells rang when the door opened and a gust of wind blew rain, leaves and a flurry of mist into the shop, then a louder jangle as he slammed the door and ran out into the storm. If he could carefully, but quickly make the road, he wouldn't have to change into dry clothes before going back to the office . . . 

His thoughts were cut short as a gust of water blew straight into his face and his legs went up from under him and he landed in a puddle with far more mud in it than was reasonable!!! SPLASH! 

Ummph! His portfolio went gracefully arcing into the air and seemed to hang suspended for a split second before it came tumbling down to earth and proceeded to smack him in the face as he looked up at it and then it landed with a corner speared deep into the muddy, wet ground before slowly laying over and as he reached, it was just past his fingertips, he could . .  almost . . . reach . . . it . . . "ugggh!" it finally came to rest in the puddle and then sank! He saw the bubbles rise to the top and shook his head like a dog and realized that his portfolio was ruined. He lay there for a moment on his back, feeling the cold mud and water seeping into his clothes. Shaking his head ruefully he tried to retrieve his leather portfolio. 

He fished it out of the puddle, rolled over, and crawled up onto his knees and when he regained his footing he was a muddy mess. He looked up at the Rag and Bottle Shop and took no pleasure when he saw that SHE had seen every muddy move he had made. He scurried along, pushing his hat back onto his head and vowed to not look back! Only bad things come from looking back!!

*** *** *** 

Catsandra was looking out of the window but she didn't notice the funny little attorney, nor was he even in her thoughts any longer. No, she held onto the wand and let happy thoughts of her friend float through her mind. 

"I had hoped you wouldn't forget me!" Catsandra heard a soft, familiar voice behind her. She took a moment, breathed in deeply, felt such gratitude fill her and with the biggest smile on her face turned to see Mother Shermona or rather her ghost floating in the air near the table Catsandra entertained clients and guests. 

" Oh, Mona. dear Mother Mona, I could never, would never forget you. I'm happy to see you."

Catsandra went to the table and sat down on one of the embroidered upholstered chairs. She lit a thick, white candle, and asked " Is this comfortable for you?" 

"Yes, my dear. I am glad you will get the cottage and all of my magical books, and items" 

"Thank you, I will care for them carefully. I'm sorry you were cremated. I will tend to your remains properly, in the woods." 

"Thank you dear one. It's interesting, on this side, it seems to matter very little. I care more that you are comforted by what happens to me now. I am very fine and will remain so. Do not be sad, my friend. I feel I may be able to stick around for a bit, maybe longer." 

"Shermona, what happened? I spoke to Avi earlier and he still doesn't knw who did this to you. Do you? I mean, you were there." She bit her lip slightly at the image and grimaced in sorrow. 

"Well, I don't know right now, but I feel if you go to my cottage, we all may find answers to what happened and what may still happen." then she seemed to shimmer on the air and disappeared. 

Catsandra didn't feel sad, she knew she would see her friend again, even if in spirit form. And suddenly she knew, she had to go to Mona's cottage right away. 

"Come Pip,  we have an errand to run. Balthazar, Abramelin, please watch the shop. Thank you" 

As she and Sir Pip left the shop the sun had come out and was shining bright and the rain had dried up. Except for a large mud puddle alongside her walk, which looked as if it had been rutted around in by a drove of pigs, everything looked beautiful. The days were getting much longer and the air warmer. Yes, indeed, it will be a perfect day to take a walk in the woods. 

After Catsandra and Sir Pip departed, the two fuzzy cats, Balthazar started licking his paws and Abramelin promptly laid out on his side on the sales counter and took his third nap of the day. 

* * * * * * * * * 

To be Continued. . . 

What Secrets will the Witches Cottage Reveal?

*** *** *** 

From the Author:  I hope you are enjoying the story of the Rag and Bottle Shop. If so, please follow my page! I am enjoying sharing the adventures of Catsandra and her familiars and the community of Castlewick with you. Please feel free to share this blog link to other fans of magical, fantasy fiction. 

I write my stories using the inspiration of the incomparable Charles Dickens who wrote and published his work during the 1800's in Great Britain in installments. Mr. Dickens was a strong social critic of industrialization and capitalism, as well as bringing to the public attention the need for social reform. Thank You for reading my work, Faith M. McCann 

Chapter X - Crafting A Confounding Charm

Chapter X 

Crafting A Confounding Spell 

by Faith McCann 

Catsandra and Sir Pip practically flew through the front door into the Rag and Bottle shop and just in time too!! 

She saw Abramelin on the counter and Balthazar on a soft upholstered chair near the sales counter and they were both conducting business with a couple of men who had a look about them that was not a kind one to cats or animals in general. Just as Catsandra came within earshot she heard one of the men say "It'll be the day I do business with a talking witch cat! Where's the money?" he was reaching out to grab hold of Abramelin's scruff . . .

"Hold!" Though Catsandra was still five or more paces behind both men and her hands were empty, she had her index finger pointed at them and they both could feel the cold, lethal point of a metal blade at the base of their necks. With their backs to her it was an effective ploy and it gave her plenty of space to avoid any foolish defensive reactions on their part. 

Catsandra added to the effect by throwing her voice and the men could not only hear her voice in their ears but they could swear they could feel her breath on their necks, as she said "As the owner and proprietress of this establishment, I do not take kindly to my staff and friends being mistreated, nor do I care for being robbed."

She continued, as she saw them stiffen. "Now kindly unhand my friend before he hurts you and please leave my place of business." 

The two men turned around slowly and looked surprised as they saw her standing several feet away. They quickly looked around but saw no one else and they each raised a hand to their necks to rub them as if to somehow verify there was no blade point still stuck into their flesh. As they felt a bit safer and their courage rose, one said "Ere now! we 'eard we could get some help if we came ere! We are down on our luck we are. Are you the Lady who helps those like us?" 

" You would have been treated kindly and would have left with more than you came with if you had walked in with honesty and good intentions. Now leave. I will .  .  .  not .  .  .  ask .  .  . again." Her voice became quieter with each word, yet somehow more forceful. In chorus her two familiars still behind the two evil doers hissed and started to caterwaul and the men quickly looked behind themselves and moved away from the cats, who suddenly seemed bigger and more vicious than before.  

When they looked back at Catsandra, she appeared to not have moved so much as a hair yet she held a shining, silver long blade in her hand crossed across her body, it's tip extending past her left shoulder and her left hand covering her right hand which had a strong grip on the hilt, easily resting against her midriff. 

"Trust, This blade is very real. Would you like to feel it again? I won't tell you to leave again. Be gone!" 

The two men didn't question her, they scurried and were careful to give her wide berth as they ran out of the shop. The door slammed behind them and the tinkle of the bells was a final sound as the two ruffians ran down the street. 

*** *** *** 

The silence covered the place and then with a flourish of her arms Catsandra flung her arms up and wide and the gleaming sword flew up and disappeared into the air! 

"Now my pets, we need to get to work! A confounding charm must be constructed! Quickly!! The days of a wizard reading my thoughts are a thing of the past!" she marched into the kitchen with her troupe following in her wake. She had already forgotten the two ruffians, as a witch could not spend any time on things which had not happened. 

"Help me, we need to melt down some silver." She quickly placed a crucible on the hot coals in the fireplace and placed some small chunks of silver in it. She asked Abramelin for the bellows and she took them from his furry paws. The air caused the fire to burn hotter and the silver to melt. She placed a wooden mold on the table and when the silver was melted, she poured it into the mold. 

While the charm was setting up in its mold, in the center of the table a curious assortment of items were placed in a specific arrangement around the silver disc. There were crystals, small bowls of powders, oils and various sticks and pieces of wood. Soon candles were put around and then a bell was rung several times. 

After the silver had hardened, she quickly popped it out of the mold and sat down and with an awl started carving very precisely a design onto the shiny, smooth disc. After the design was carved, she placed mirrors, tiny round mirrors on little stands surrounding the disc and the picked up a set of tingsha bells. She held them over the disc and while incanting a spell, rang the bells again and again. Soon the air surrounding the disc took on a cloudy look, almost like a tiny storm was brewing in the middle of the kitchen table! The clouds over the disc then changed color and the small group of magical beings watched as a tiny tableau played out in front of them. A full thunder and lightening storm with flashing, jagged lightening strikes and rumbles of thunder shook the table. The lightening strikes hit the silver disc and it jumped up from the table and after it fell back again the storm subsided and they watched as the disc glowed from blue to purple to green to gold to red to silver again. 

All faces, small and furry looked towards their Lady and had inquisitive looks. She on the other hand looked decidedly pleased! The silver disc was still smoking slightly so while it cooled she fashioned a cord of thin strong material to hang it around her neck. Once it was in it's proper place, she thanked her attendants, held out her palm for Sir Pip to hop onto and the two headed out towards the Home for the Homeless.   

*** *** *** 

It was already late afternoon when she made her way to the Home. Sir Pip again accompanied her. This time he rode along in her side pocket of her cloak. It was warm and fuzzy inside the deep pocket and he decided to take a nap as they strolled along down the sidewalk towards their destination. 

The weather was warm and slightly breezy, and she saw flowers blooming along the tall grasses that lined the edges of the forest, but she was more interested in the goings on as she came closer to the Home. In the short time since she had been here, more improvements had happened! There were a number of able bodied men on the roof, weaving bundles of thatch in thinning places and a cheerful folk song could be heard upon the wind. 

At a distance of a couple of blocks away, Catsandra stood in the shade of a flowering crabapple tree. She simply stood, very, very still. She allowed the breeze to flow over and through her, swaying slightly, virtually disappearing into the shadow of the tree. She watched the work around the Home. There were people scurrying around, picking up broken branches and tending to new plantings around the big building. 

She saw a curious gathering in the grassy field next to the Home for the Homeless. There were raised beds with growing onions, turnips, cabbages, carrots, garlic, chard and various herbs and fruit trees throughout the field. But it was the group of men, farmers by their look, talking to Avi that held her rapt attention. 'My he was handsome.' Oh! what was she thinking! Pay attention she chastised herself, glad she had not verbalized her thoughts, unsure if her companion was sleeping or simply quiet in her pocket. 

"Are we there yet?" Right on cue, a little grey head popped out of her cloak pocket and looked about. "Why have we stopped? What's going on?" 

"Shh" She shushed her companion. 

"Eeek" Sir Pip responded! 

They both watched as a group of men spoke with Avi. He was introducing another group of men, many she knew from the Rag and Bottle shop as rag and bottle men, and those who were guests of the Home for the Homeless. She felt a smile cross her lips as she saw the men engage in serious conversation but then laugh and shake hands, as if some agreement had been made between two then another two, and that farmer seemed to make an agreement with a couple of men, and interestingly each farmer gave the other men a slip of paper. They all continued to chat, laugh a bit more cordially then the farmers all shook Avi's hand and broke off one by one and by foot, or by horse and cart they departed. The men from the home stood in small groups sharing information with one another and she could hear even from her distance the loud 'Avi' shouted by one or another of the group every now and then! 

Soon, with each man taking a moment to say something to Avi they went back into the Home as it was close to dinner time. Avi remained out in the yard by himself, slowly pacing as if deep in thought. She watched him and wondered what the gathering had been about. She noticed he had not received a slip of paper. She decided to stay in the shade of the kind tree, allowing her shelter, until he went indoors. It wouldn't do for him to see her spying on him. 

She then saw him stop his slow pacing and he looked up and straight at her. Ugh! Great! Just great! Why does he have a way of making her feel like a neophyte inside. Now caught watching him. Well, there's nothing to be done about it. "Come Pip." 

"Eeek" he burrowed deep in her pocket. She straightened her back, held her cloak around her throat and with her head held high, a slight smile on her lips she walked across the grass as if it were a grand ball room. 

'How does she do that?' He wondered. She can walk across a field and look as if she were ascending the dais in a royal throne room. As she came closer, he put his hands in his pockets and smiled slightly. Ah, clever witch indeed. She has been busy. 

"Lady Catsandra, it is good to see you again. It is a beautiful day, is it not?" He looked up into the sky at the azure canvas with white fluffy clouds floating by. He smiled at her. 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Avigdor. Please, call me Catsandra." 

"No." 

She gasped. She frankly was not accustomed to being told no. "Excuse me?" He really was insufferable. 

"Not unless you call me Avi" he smiled, just slightly at the edges of his mouth.

"Oh!" she giggled suddenly, then spun away and clapped a hand over her mouth in shock!  She took a moment to compose herself, it wasn't as if they were friends. She still needed to find out if he were sincere. She turned back to him, a smile on her face. 

"Okay, Avi. Yes, it's a beautiful day." She felt at a loss for words, then impulsively asked "May I ask? What was the gathering about? It looked like a serious yet happy event also!" 

"I had several of the area farmers meet with the men here at the home to see what kind of work they might do on the farms for various pay. Either room and board, or true payment. Each man makes his own contract with the farmer. It's done in many lands and an able bodied man needs a job to keep him in good spirits mentally, spiritually as well as physically. 

"I noticed each man was given a slip of paper?" 

"Yes, that was the directions to each farm and the farmer's name and amount each man negotiated with their farmer. I helped with the negotiating part."

"You? Arranged all this? What was the negotiating about?" She wondered aloud, while watching him carefully. He appeared relaxed, at ease and happy with the currents situation. 

"Ah, well, some men. . . " he wiped his brow,  "find it easy to forget that other men are human beings, deserving of the same respect, consideration and equal treatment, regardless of social status, personal wealth or poverty. I was here to assure each man received a fair contract and would be properly compensated for a hard day's work. These men may be poor but they are not slaves, nor should they be treated as such."

"The Home for the homeless does not simply assist the men in our community that have fallen upon hard times, but the women and children also. How would they benefit from your new ideas?" She asked as they started to walk slowly back to the Home. 

"Women are being compensated for tending and maintaining the gardens, helping to cook in the kitchen and along with the children, helping to clean the sleeping quarters. Those able to help stay here for free since they are helping in so many areas." 

She stopped walking to look at Avi in surprise. She reached out to touch his arm, overcome. "You would allow those to stay here without pay?" She had never encountered someone in a position of power to show such consideration for others, with no thought of repayment for themselves. 

"The work the women and children do, is equal in every way to any real job and their room and board is their payment. Just as any job. Some children are too young so some of the older children watch them and an adult woman supervises, each gaining experience and skills they may very well use in their lives again one day." 

As they proceeded into the Home, they entered the great hall and she followed him up the side staircase to his now typical post, leaning on the second floor railing overlooking the happy chaos going on below. Behind them were the doors to the fancy rooms rented by the day. For those a bit more affluent, mostly travelers as they came through Castlewick. 

As they stood on the second floor landing overlooking the great room below, Catsandra stood silently watching the people below, sweeping, setting out the plates and bowls for the dinner shift on the long tables. A happy chatter floated up from below, children laughing, a pleasant murmur amongst the people below. 

"I see you have managed to put us both on an even keel." Avi said quietly, without looking away from the ongoing activity below. 

"An even keel?" She queried

"Yes, where we are both now equal with our thoughts protected and each on an equal footing. An 'even keel' is a nautical term, one learns on the high seas." 

"I see, yes, an even keel. I agree." She did not choose to elaborate, but knew he had sensed her protection from his intrusion into her thoughts. 

He smiled and chose to forgo any further details as to how she had blocked his entry into her thoughts. And he knew she could not read his thoughts, so good! He thought 'Well, we will just have to find out about each other the old fashioned way'. He liked a challenge. 

They were comfortable in their silence, as they watched the goings on below. 

"Are you finding yourself settled in, since you've come to the village?" She steeled herself from looking at him. 

"Yes, people have been very welcoming, .  .  .  for the most part." She felt his eyes on her but she ignored his pointed tone, as she continued to look over the railing. The hardwood floors positively gleamed. The many rows of wooden framed cots, were well made up with a sheet, a pillow and a thin blanket per each one. Enough cots to accommodate more than they have ever needed. It made her happy and sad at the same time. That there was a need for a place such as this. That there were people in this world without a home to call their own. 

"You used a nautical term, earlier. Have you spent much time at sea?" 

Avi was silent for a long while, so long she finally glanced over to see if he had heard her. 

"Aye, I've spent too much time at sea. I much prefer the land." She remained silent as he spoke, hoping he would offer more of his past. 

She looked below and saw Mother Shermona moving amongst the crowds of people. She smiled and patted the heads of the children, bent down for an encouraging word to a young woman setting out the platters and trenchers for dinner. She moved over to a pregnant woman who was resting on one of the cots. She felt her forehead and soon had a hot cup of water brought. She took out a small packet of herbs and mixed them into the cup making a brew for the lady to sip. 

Mother Shermona often helped as a midwife and she knew herbology and was a pharmacutea, one trained in the old ways of the natural world, in her own right. 

At that moment a bit of a loud commotion was heard at the doorway to the home. They looked over and saw a small group of very rough looking men pushing their way into the hall. Catsandra narrowed her eyes as she recognized the tall ruffian who had tried to accost her and Pip on the trail in the woods to Mother Shermona's cottage. She also saw the two trouble makers who had run out of the Rag and Bottle shop earlier this very day. The three had picked up a couple additional ne'er-do-wells. They stumbled in, pushing, coarsely laughing and shoving each other, one taking his cap off and swatting another with it. 

Regular clients of the Home looked nervously at them as a troublesome group like this lot posed nothing but trouble and mayhem. A few heads quickly swiveled up to search out Avi and looked earnestly in his direction. Catsandra noticed more and more people stopped their discussions and chatter and the room grew quiet and fearful glances were cast at the rude men by the door. The men scanned the room and the tall one, the hard looking man that had held the long, sharpened stick in the wood before the great tree grabbed him up took a step forward and it was clear he was the self appointed leader of this motley gang. 

He reached out as a younger woman was hurrying by with a platter of baskets filled with freshly baked dinner rolls meant to be placed upon the food tables along the back wall. He grabbed her arm and stopped her and as he jerked her arm she let out a short cry and a few rolls fell to the floor. The young woman looked upset as she saw the precious food fall to the floor, and her face turned red as tears welled in her eyes. 

The tall man had no remorse as he laughed crudely and grabbed a basket of rolls and threw them to his mates. There was a loud murmur of concern amongst the regulars and Catsandra thought no more of the fact that it was not her place, or that Avi was now technically in charge, she simply would not abide a bully, not one, not five, she turned to glance at Avi, while moving towards the stairs. Not that she was looking for permission, but rather to see if he was inclined to accompany her to aid those below. 

As she looked at Avi, she saw him take his hand out of his pocket, raise it in the air and held it out over the railing from where they stood. Suddenly he opened his hand and she saw a small round object fall quickly towards the floor below. Momentarily distracted from the nasty men being mean to the young woman below. . . 

'BANG!' Catsandra could feel Sir Pip jump inside her deep cloak pocket. She herself gasped and clutched her hand to her throat. What had that loud sound come from? What could have made a sound as if a lightening bolt had let loose within the hall? Wait! Could it have been that tiny ball? But .  .  .  how?

The entire great hall below was shocked into silence! Catsandra, feeling more than a little impressed with such a show of magic, took a step back, bit back the words she had been about to utter and decided to follow the first rule of a well trained priestess, listen and observe. Yes, this was very much Avi's situation and she had a good idea he would handle it just fine without her help. 

Avi leaned, just slightly, over the edge of the upper floor railing, holding lightly onto the railing as if he hadn't a care in the world. 

"Greetings Gentlemen! Welcome to the Home for the Homeless!"  He spread his arms wide as if welcoming royalty. "You are new to these parts. My name is Mr. Avigdor. Most call me Avi. I am the .  .  .  one who cares for those in this place. These people are my responsibility." His voice, though not loud at all, seemed to carry through the entire building. Strong, confident, self assured and powerful. One would be a fool to test the mettle of a man with such a voice. One did not gain such a voice by simply going through puberty, but with much hard life experience and knowing one's abilities.

Avi moved to the staircase along the sidewall and soon was on the ground floor and he was in front of the group of rowdy men. She felt a sense of frustration as she was now out of earshot and found she desperately wanted to hear what he had to say to these troublemakers. She waited for him to throw the group out and was even more surprised when she saw the men listen to Avi, then take their hats off, and with a submissive bent to their stances, bend down to pick up the rolls that had fallen to the floor. One man gently brushed the dust off the roll and looking awkwardly around stuck the roll in his pocket. 

People started to murmur amongst themselves and a sense of calm and order seemed restored to the great room as chatter resumed and the clanking of platters and tankards being placed continued. Seeing as Avi seemed to have the trouble under control Catsandra looked about for Mother Shermona. She had really wanted to catch up with her as they had to finish their earlier conversation. 

Catsandra scanned the crowd as she finished descending the steps to the bottom floor. Wait, .  .  .  she was just here. "Ada!" She saw the girl who had been sweeping out front before. The young woman stopped and stared at Catsandra with a bit of awe and admiration. Cat smiled at her. "Have you seen where Mother Shermona has gone to? I wanted to see her for a moment." 

Ada smiled and looked earnestly and upon not finding Mother Shermona said "I'll take a look in the back if you'd like. Perhaps she went to the back area where we prepare the stew and biscuits? She is often helping with the food prep . . .  " 

A high pitched scream reverberated through the entire building! Everyone was shocked into silence. 

Catsandra immediately looked towards Avi and he was looking towards her, their eyes met. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. Something was very wrong. 

People were suddenly running, it seemed from all directions. Motion took over. Everyone was in movement. Everyone but Catsandra who was utterly stock still with an utter knowing that there was nothing she could do to change events as they were. Avi, she looked at his face and her heart sank as she knew he also knew that events had passed by their intervention. He had a look of great sadness in his eyes, sorrow as he looked at her. 

"MOTHER SHERMONA!! Oh No! No! Someone has done her in the worse way! Mr. Avignor, please Sir, help us!" A woman came running to Avi and she was crying, her hands wringing and she reached out and grasped his hands and pulled him desperately after her. 

He started to go with the woman and Catsandra followed. She heard a muffled squeak and felt Pip moving up her pocket and poke his head out. She went into the back and was behind Avi's tall back when he stopped. He turned and took hold of her shoulders. 

"Catsandra, don't look. I know you are friends." his voice was low, kind and very sorrowful. 

"Stop! I must see. Is it? No! Not Shermona." She pushed by him and took a step and stopped. 

There laying on the stone threshold of the backdoor leading out into the back courtyard was the body of Mother Shermona. She was laying on the floor. Her body suddenly seeming small, crumpled and blood was pooling around her head. 

Next to her body lay a large mallet, covered with blood and strands of her hair. 

It was obvious she had been murdered. A most foul deed. But why? Who could have wanted to kill such a wonderful, giving woman? 

Catsandra sank to her knees next to her dear friend. She felt tears course down her face and she felt Sir Pip slowly crawl along her dress until he was settled next to her neck and he sniffled as he wrapped some of her hair around his little body as he tucked in and tried to comfort his Lady. Such a wonderful soul, gone. What has this world come to? 

* * * * * * * * * 

To be Continued . . . 

Are We Ever Really Gone? 

*** *** *** 

From the Author:  I hope you are enjoying the story of the Rag and Bottle Shop. If so, please follow my page! I am enjoying sharing the adventures of Catsandra and her familiars and the community of Castlewick with you. Please feel free to share this blog link to other fans of magical, fantasy fiction. 

I write my stories using the inspiration of the incomparable Charles Dickens who wrote and published his work during the 1800's in Great Britain in installments. Mr. Dickens was a strong social critic of industrialization and capitalism, as well as bringing to the public attention the need for social reform. Thank You for reading my work, Faith M. McCann 

 

Chapter IX - Friend or Foe?

Chapter IX 

Friend or Foe? 

by Faith McCann 

Catsandra walked along with Sir Pip on his perch safely tucked near her neck, shielded by her scarf and her hair, as they made their way towards the path that led towards the forest and Shermona's cottage deep within. 

"Pip, what did you notice, while we were at the Home? I had asked you to keep a close eye, to use your mouse attention to detail. What did you see?" She carried a folding fan that she casually used to fan herself as she walked, but really used it to conceal her conversation she would appear to be having with herself. 

"I noticed the floors were very clean, scrubbed spotless. Not a crumb for a mouse to find. And another thing. . . " 

"yes, tell me, everything, even the tiniest detail may help me figure out what we are working with here."

"I noticed Avi, he has marks upon his ankles. They look like the marks shackles would leave." 

"Oh, indeed." She paused in her steps, for just a moment and grew quiet as they proceeded to walk further along the slight path through the wood. "Anything else?" 

"He has the callouses on his hands and fingers of a working man, but his fingernails were clean, no dirt. His clothes smelled clean. He also had on a special charm, with special symbols upon it." 

"Wait!" She stopped and took the little mouse off her shoulder and held him gently in her palm. "A charm? I saw nothing around his neck? Where did you see any charm?"

"I ran off your shoulder while you two were talking to have a look around as you asked of me, and I saw it hanging off of his belt. It was almost covered by his shirt, but my sharp mouse eyes saw it clearly. It kept changing color when light hit it, from silver to gold to brass colors. But the symbol, remained the same glowing a deep reddish purple etched into the medal disc making up the charm. The symbol .  .  .  "

"yes, what did it look like?" 

"It had three distinct dots at one end then a spiral coiling around and ended with a small triangle in the center. Then three tiny wings surrounding it, like a tiny bird but three, birds only have two wings, how strange! I have never seen anything of the sort before Lady, have you?" 

"Yes, little Pip, I have, indeed I have. It explains a lot. Most especially how our new acquaintance was able to block his thoughts and then read mine. It sounds like a confounding sigil on a disc or medal charm called a tintinnabulum. They are very ancient, and very powerful. He would have had it long before he came here. He has been shielding his thoughts from others for a long time now."

She placed Pip back on her shoulder, secured her scarf and he grabbed on tight and they proceeded through the woods. Catsandra was deep in thought as one thing was still bothering her. She started to softly voice her thoughts, as she didn't wish to be rude and Sir Pip was good counsel at times. "I understand how he could have blocked my entry into his thoughts but how could he have read my thoughts so easily? Was he a witch also? I don't mean to be arrogant but one can usually tell, and we are usually open with one another, are we not?" It was a question, Pip knew she was not expecting an answer to. he allowed her to ruminate. 

"It is possible. Witches are both male and female. As we know some males prefer the term wizards but that is generally a term denoting those who are masters in the craft, teachers and highly skilled. Avi is too young to be a master.  Whereas female witches who are highly skilled teachers are referred to as Lady, an ancient term harkening back to a time when the witch was a Priestess of the ancient ways, helping the land and the people who needed help, healing and assistance in many ways. I do miss those days Pip." 

"Me also, Lady" 

"Yet magical people are not rare. We are not a dime a dozen by any means, every village has at least one witch, one herbalist, a few midwives and the scattering of fortune tellers. Not everyone may take advantage of the skills of the magical practitioners but everyone knows magic exists."

Catsandra continued through the forest, and when she came to a spot where the path widened and rounded a large tree, hundreds of years old she felt her senses tingled down her spine, and Sir Pip squeaked a warning. A man stepped out from behind the tree. He held a long walking staff, hard and sharpened at the end. He had a cruel, but desperate look on his face. 

Catsandra stopped. The man was blocking her path. She felt the air surrounding him and knew. Knew that he could not be reasoned with, he could not be talked into another course of action. He had evil thoughts on his mind and she had another destination and no time to tarry. She didn't say a word, she raised her arms and her fingers stretched towards the tree which dominated the path. Suddenly the wind picked up, the leaves started to blow and the creaking of the great, mighty limbs above them groaned as they strained down and as the man moved towards Catsandra and Sir Pip, he was suddenly picked off the ground and held in the air aloft by a branch of the mighty tree! As the evil intentioned man started to yell with fright and anger, the branches squeezed tighter and lifted him higher! 

Catsandra moved past the great tree on her way to Shermona's and gave a sign in the air of eternal blessing and thanks to the great protector as she passed. Sir Pip raised his tiny fists and pumped them in the air as they strode past the dangling body of the would be mugger, high in the air of the forest. He might be little but mice have been terrorizing humanity for centuries, he thought proudly! "I would have protected you my Lady! That evil man was lucky, lucky he was that the tree kept him from my sharp mouse teeth! I could have given him scurvy!"

Catsandra smiled and sniffed to stop from laughing, "Yes! Indeed, Pip, he was very lucky. But I think that would be plague, but thankfully we didn't have to unleash your fierceness upon him! You were well hidden. I'm sure, if he had seen you, he would have high tailed it to the hills. But neither of us has the time to deal with vagabonds this day. We need to see Mother Shermona as soon as possible. Oh! Look! There she is now!" 

They saw the older woman with her long hard stick, much farther down the path, walking briskly towards them. She was also carrying a large basket. When she saw them she gave a wave in greeting. As they approached one another Catsandra curtseyed deep and bowed her head in respect to the elder's station. They embraced and Shermona put out her little finger towards Sir Pip and he touched it with his tiny mouse paw in greeting. 

"How are you my dear? What brings you to my woods?" 

"I am well Mother, but I have recently visited the Home. How well do you know Avi? The new manager of the Home for the Homeless?" 

"I met him when he entered the village, about a week, maybe a week and a half ago? Walk with me, does he cause you concern?" 

"Why does he block our thought reading, yet read our thoughts? There are rules!! Every magical person knows them! It's rude! Did he tell you straight away he was a magical person?"

"No, you are correct there, I think he does that, not inform people, so he can feel them out. Perhaps to cause them to lose their balance, so to speak, and thereby having the upper hand." she peered sharply sideways at Catsandra "It appears his technique was effective."

"Hmmph, well, do you know anything about before he came here? He seems to have scars from shackles on his ankles."

"From what I can tell, he spent time on a merchant vessel traveling the spice route in warmer climes before he came here. I do not believe he went to sea voluntarily."

"That makes no sense though. To sustain permanent scarring from iron shackles one need have worn them for a considerable time. On board a ship at sea there would be no need to shackle someone, whether they were a willing passenger or not." 

"Unless the people who felt they owned him knew of his magical abilities. Iron has been used since before history was written to keep 'prisoners' suspected of having magical abilities from escaping from prison, hence iron bars, to iron shackles, to iron chains, even iron stakes were one time used for those friends of ours who have vampiric tendencies. If they knew and feared him, especially the superstitious lot found aboard merchant ships, yes, the shackles fit right in, poor boy. Yet, I sense no evil, no drive for revenge or meanness within him. Why are you concerned?" 

Catsandra grew quiet as the trio walked quietly through the woods. "Be careful Lady, there was a ruffian up ahead, the great tree took care of him for us, but he may still be lurking or have friends hiding amongst the bushes."

"Thank you dear, I'll be fine. I have ravens that look out for me and warn me of impending danger. Will you be coming back with me to the Home for the Homeless? I cannot wait to see the changes, everyday more improvements, more people with a sense of accomplishment. Of course, one cannot be sure until all grain has been measured, as the old adage goes, but until now, Avi has given us nothing to be worried about, but much to be hopeful for."  

"I had hoped to find out news of Dominick. How does he fare? Is he still with you?" 

"As we both know he is healing from his .  .  .  recent experiences, but his spirit is that which needs the most work. He has decided to go further into the woods to seek answers to his internal moral and spiritual dilemma. We must give him time, he will come to the place he is meant to come to, until then he is exactly where he is supposed to be, in all ways." 

"Then Sir Pip and I will accompany you back to the Home for the Homeless as we wish to learn more of this amazing new savior who has come into our midst."

 She saw the side look Mother Mona shot her and immediately felt petty. In truth, she really had no reason to distrust Avi. She had been disappointed and let down by others before. Many others who had come into the village with the intent to help those in the community, but had only been self serving. Yet she always told others what she herself needed to remember, not to put the same penalty upon others who had never committed the crime. She saw far too much of that in her world, and she knew better. Feeling abashed she reached for Mother Mona's basket. 

"Here please allow me to carry your basket." 

The trio continued on their way through the woods back to the village. 

*** *** *** 

In the local hospital a nurse stepped quietly into a room, that had been darkened with the shades drawn. She trod quietly, on flat soled shoes, to the bed, to tend to her patient. The poor person was unrecognizable as their head was completely bandaged and one hand was in a sling indicating it was badly broken. The nurse checked the bandages and felt his forehead and with a concerned look pursed her lips as he had yet to come out of his deep sleep. Though she knew some people would go into a deep sleep after a serious accident such as he had sustained, to heal their bodies. The doctor had said it was a blessing as they didn't believe the patients who were in this state suffered any pain while they were sleeping thusly. She sincerely hoped it were true. No one, regardless of personality or temperament deserved to be in extreme pain. She had seen those who suffered so, it was a terrible thing, indeed. 

The nurse turned as she heard the door open behind her, and she saw the doctor enter the room. "Any change nurse?" "No doctor, he still sleeps deeply, no movement, no sound. Do you think he will ever awaken?"

The doctor did his own examination, then stepped back and sighed. "Well, nurse, there are tales of people sleeping in such a state for years, then they awaken, and others .  .  .  " he looked at her and slowly shook his head. "We simply don't know. Until he decides, we will have to do all we can to see if he can come back to us, wherever he may be." 

"Yes doctor." 

*** *** *** 

As Catsandra, Sir Pip and Mother Shermona reached the edge of the village Cat stopped and said "I will be but a moment, why don't you go on ahead of me. Sir Pip and I really need to go check on the Rag and Bottle Shop, my senses tell me I am needed and then I'll be along in a few minutes." she smiled a big smile at the older woman and handed her back her basket, turned on her heel and quickly walked down the street towards her house.  

She had absolutely no intention of being near that rascal Avi without a confounding charm of her own, and if she was a master of anything it was crafting charms, talismans and spells. It shouldn't take long, but she had work to do! 

*** *** *** 

From the Author:  I hope you are enjoying the story of the Rag and Bottle Shop. If so, please follow my page! I am enjoying sharing the adventures of Catsandra and her familiars and the community of Castlewick with you. Please feel free to share this blog link to other fans of magical, fantasy fiction. 

I write my stories using the inspiration of the incomparable Charles Dickens who wrote and published his work during the 1800's in Great Britain in installments. Mr. Dickens was a strong social critic of industrialization and capitalism, as well as bringing to the public attention the need for social reform. Thank You for reading my work, Faith M. McCann 

Chapter VIII - Changes at the Home for the Homeless!

Chapter VIII

Changes at the Home for the Homeless 

by Faith McCann  

Catsandra walked along the road towards the Home for the Homeless, having left  a sign on the door of the Rag and Bottle Shop.  In spite of the dreary, rainy day, Balthazar, Abramelin and Sir Pip had decided to come along for the walk, and the two furry familiars walked behind her while the little mouse sat upon her shoulder chattering happily in her ear, commenting on the sights as they strolled through town.  

"The air is much more mild, one can feel the warmth of spring on the breeze! The trees, look there Mistress, see, see! The buds are budding!" he was excited as winter could be especially hard for little folk such as he. It was a curious sight the foursome made, as the day was overcast with spits of rain yet a ray of sunshine gleamed down upon the group as they strolled along, following them, as if it were a sunny umbrella sheltering them and only them from the rain! 

She paused in her walk to adjust her wispy thin, silky scarf over her head and shoulders, which provided her small fellow shoulder traveler safe protection from prying eyes as they walked along. They stood and looked ahead of them at their destination, the Home for the Homeless. It looked very different! It positively glowed in the rain! New white paint had been applied to the exterior, new shrubbery had been planted. A young woman was sweeping the sidewalk out front and stopped and stared as Catsandra walked up to the door. The young woman looked at Catsandra, then looked skywards, then her eyes followed the sunbeam down to where it fell upon the tiny band of travelers. She looked very confused. 

"My friends dislike their fur getting wet, it causes unsightly knots, you see." Catsandra nodded as she addressed the sweeper girl, and the girl found herself nodding along with the curious woman, whom she had heard many a magical rumor and story about. My, she didn't look evil or dangerous. She appeared the opposite, in fact. 

"Yes'm, can I assist you?" Feeling braver, the girl wanted to help. The woman looked kind, and she wanted to believe the nicer rumors rather than the nasty ones. Her mother always told her, nasty rumors come from nasty people. Her mother, gone these past three years, bless her soul, has been a very wise woman. She tried to remember her wise words as often as she could.

Catsandra stopped her little troupe. "That's very kind of you. What is your name young lady?" 

"Ada" . . . "um, ma'am" she attempted a half curtsey as if she somehow knew Catsandra was different than most of the folks she encountered. 

Catsandra smiled "It is nice to meet you Ada. These are my friends, Balthazar, Abramelin, and Sir Pip. Can you please direct me to Ms. Shermona if she has arrived yet?" 

"Oh Mother Mona is not quite here yet, I expect her any moment. You can go inside if you want to get out of the .  .  .  rain?" Ada looked up and as if she realized the incongruity of what she was saying, allowed her words to trail off. She herself was already damp, out in the drizzle, but she had a job to do. To sweep the front walk of any debris from the storm the night before. But the lady with the auburn hair and the streak in her hair had not a bit of dampness about her and her companions were dry as well. Hmmm, she would ponder this later. She didn't wish to appear silly or stupid. 

"My dear, know that magic exists all around us. It's as natural and as extraordinary as the sun rising every morning and the moon at night. It takes time to learn of such things, but not knowing does not make one stupid. You have simply not learned of these things, yet!" Catsandra smiled gently at the girl and with a glance at her troupe continued into the building designed to accommodate the less fortunate members of the community. 

Ada's mouth made a little O as her eyes grew wide as she realize she had not said her thoughts aloud and she watched the funny little group jaunt into the Home for the Homeless. Ada then glanced up at the ray of sunshine and started laughing as she realized it was now shining on her and the rain was no longer landing on her! Magic indeed! How lovely to imagine! She felt excited and happy and all bubbly inside. What a wonderful day this is starting off to be! 

*** *** ***

Catsandra walked into the large room that housed the shelter lower floor of the Home for the Homeless. She had noticed a change in the clientele who had frequented the Rag and Bottle Shop and she had learned of a few things she wanted to see for herself.  

She witnessed a heartening sight being played out before her. As weak sunlight gleamed through the window panes she watched as younger men up on ladders were being assisted by others holding the ladders and handing up cleaning supplies as they washed the windows. Women were tending to groups of children in this corner or on the staging area at one end of the great room. Others were sweeping and a bit of a racket was being made as hammering was going on, in the building of an army of wooden pallets placed upon stout legs. On the farthest side of the room, in between the aisles between the new bedding framework were teams laying down thin canvas and filling it with freshly dried soft grasses. Others were folding the canvas over and stitching it up along the sides with hemp threads and long iron needles. 

The attitude was jovial, happy chatter and laughter, jokes and shouts of greetings when another person arrived. Clients of the home would show up, lay their sack of goods from scavenging the town along one wall and pick up a job and join in. The last time Catsandra had stopped by, before Mr. Diffyc had decided to go on a spiritual sabbatical into the woods, he and Mr. Smythe between them had caused such misery to drain through the town, laughter had become a rare thing in these parts. 

A little boy went running past chasing a ball and both Balthazar and Abramelin hissed and backed up, spines arched and a low growl came from one.  Catsandra hissed at them in quick reproach, and they both quieted down. The little boy picked up his ball and looked around at first not seeing anything in their area and then jumped back a bit, startled as he saw Catsandra and the two fuzzy cats and he started to giggle as he saw Sir Pip on her shoulder. Was that little mouse wearing a little jacket and pantaloons? 

"Young one, it is David, yes? Is Mr. Smythe about?" 

"Me? Mr. Smythe? No, he went away! He got all upset one day, tried to use his cane on an old man, and he was stopped, so he got mad and went away. Never to return! The young boy raised his finger in the air and yelled it loudly, reenacting dramatically the scene of Mr. Smythe's departure. He giggled and so did Catsandra. The young boy was very good. He might have a career on the stage one day. 

"Wait. . . he was, stopped, you say? Tell me about that." She knelt down on her knee and looked at him on his level. He felt very important, a special lady kneeling down to speak to him as if he were an important gentleman. 

"Who stopped Mr. Smythe? If Mother Mona is not able to be here always,  who is running this place?" 

"Avi!" The boy leaned in closer and excitedly whispered. "Avi stopped him but good! Took Mr. Smythe's cane and turned it on him! 'Smack! smack! smack!! right on Mr. Smythe's back! Said real loud that they'd be no more mis, um .  .   miss. .  . mistreat.  .  .   . " 

"Mistreatment?" she finished.

Yes, that's it, right! Mistreatments, they'd be no mores mistreatments, of any of us unfortunates in this here Home for the Homeless! Not while Avi is here. He is a real good guy and looks after us well. You will like him. We are doing real good, ma'am" he giggled and dropped his ball ran away after it. 

"Avi? Hmmm, well, well, well, kittens and mouse I would like to meet this Avi. He has done a remarkable job and I would like to know more. Let us find this new one."

*** *** ***

Avi looked down from the upper floor balcony and saw the regal woman who had sailed into the building. He felt as if the room should have had a butler to announce her, but he saw she was totally unconcerned whether anyone noticed her or not. No, he corrected himself, as he watched her he saw how still she stood and just observed.  It was as if she willed everyone not to notice her. Clever witch! He chuckled to himself, he had heard of invisibility spells but had never seen one in practice before. The little boy went running past and then after the boy picked up the ball the air around his visitors shifted and wavered and then he saw the boy notice the woman. Clever indeed he thought. A woman worth his attention. He decided he would like to get to know her. He wondered what brought her to this place, as she certainly did not strike him as needing a place to sleep for the night. 

At that moment Catsandra looked directed up and into Avi's eyes, and his light blue eyes met her green eyes and they sized each other up. Each one thinking the same thing. Who are you? Friend? Foe? Adversary? Comrade? Mere Acquaintance? Only time would tell. Avi knew one thing by this time in his life, everyone had an agenda. Whether it be one that benefitted one or all, helped a few or a lot. But everyone was motivated by something. What was the red haired witch with cats and a mouse as an entourage motivated by .  .  .  and would they be friends or enemies? 

*** *** ***

Catsandra saw the blue eyed man, neither old, nor young but of a reasonable age. He had shoulder length hair of medium brown, and wore a natural linen gentlemen's shirt with slim fitting dark gray dress pants. She could see a gleam of his polished leather boots as they peeked over the landing edge between the railing. She looked down to quickly mask her expression, it couldn't be? How was it possible? She must be too far away, that was it. It was obviously it! 

She proceeded over to the steps that led to the second floor and had a slight smile on her lips as she ascended, one hand lightly trailing on the railing. As she got closer to the new apparent manager of the Home she felt her smile slightly falter. His mind was completely blank. She could not read a thing. But one look into his eyes showed intelligence, amusement and interest. It wasn't possible that he had nothing going on behind those eyes, yet she was unable to pick up the slightest glimmer of a thought. That simply wasn't possible. How could he shield her so completely? Was he a Wizard? 

Greetings, my name is Avi, formally Avigdor, but everyone calls me Avi, pleased to meet you. I know the place looks very different but I'm simply encouraging each person to their highest potential, not a Wizard." 

"Oooh! Uh, Ahem, It is nice to meet you also. I'm Catsandra, owner of the Rag and Bottle Shop. You assist many of my friends, and I had heard of the changes. Avi. This is Balthazar and Abramelin, and Sir Pip. My friends, also." She peered at him and kept her mind blank, but was putting many thoughts on hold for the time being. She needed the focus and attention to detail of mouse magic. Look for the tiniest thing and remember for later. She needn't figure anything out at this time, but simply do reconnaissance. She turned aside to look over the balcony and as she did so she moved away from Avi and whispered, "Be aware My friend, Pip, pay close attention, report back to me later." She heard a muffled squeak in reply. 

She raised her voice so he could hear her, "I see so many changes, all for the better. People gainfully occupied, pleased with their accomplishments, working together as a community, yes, many wonderful changes. Where do you hail from Avi?"

She pushed her mind trying to find a weak spot in his mind, but it was as solid and strong as a rock foundation. 

"Ah, I was a traveler for many years, gaining my education on the road. I guess the answer to your question is I hail from everywhere and nowhere in particular." 

She looked directly at him and thought, 'I know you are being evasive and that you can read my thoughts. Fine! Game on!'  She said aloud for propriety sake  "I'm hearing wonderful things from my friends who frequent the Rag and Bottle shop. The chores they are given here, in exchange for their nightly sleeping places. Better foods, more of it, lower costs for their fees when one can afford to pay a penny or two. I must ask you, why? And how? You, a stranger in these midst's, comes here and proceeds to make a pocket of misery rather than a source of ready income and power for you, instead makes it into opportunities of hope for so many. Why? 

"Firstly the answer lays in how.  I came here, looking for a place to bed down for the night. Ready to pay my four pennies for a room, and witnessed brutality by a man who had the opportunity to make people's lives better with little effort, only needing the desire to want to. Yet he chose to make life more difficult. I chose differently. I met the new Magistrate, Mr. Tanner and he and I have come to an agreement. With a small shift in the community budget a portion for those less fortunate has been diverted to this Home. 

Having those who stay here at night, help with the upkeep, cleaning, repair and maintenance was an easy choice. Everyone wishes to have a purpose to give their lives a sense of meaning. That is the change you sense. But I have heard similar things about you. That you treat your friends at your shop as people to be respected, and you see them. You don't find them invisible as many in society choose to do."

"Mr. Tanner is in agreement", she smiled "and Mother Mona, she also continues to assist?" Why couldn't she hear his thoughts? Not the barest whisper. He nodded watching her cover her discomfort. 

"Why the new bedding units? The one penny sit-ups, two penny hang-overs and four penny coffins have been in use for decades. What made you decide to build new real bedding units? Such concern is never shown to for the less fortunate" 

"Frankly there is something macabre about one laying in a bed shaped like a casket if one is not dead. As far as showing concern for others, it takes very little and the rewards are quite . . . enriching." 

He placed both hands on the railing, and stood easily, overlooking the hustle and bustle from below. Catsandra had always known that harsh times could be made better by people in positions of authority using their power for the benefit of the majority rather than the personal enrichment of a few. How curious he used such a word, enrichment. 

Just then a tantalizing smell wafted up from the cook room below. A savory, meaty, rich and intoxicating smell that had Balthazar and Abramelin purring and rubbing up against her skirts. 

"Ahh, the venison stew smells delicious. I sent a few men into the forest to procure a few deer to feed the multitudes. There will be fresh baked bread and freshly churned butter to go with the stew. We also have fresh milk and honey mead and hops beer as a special treat for those who have been toiling to clean this place all week. I warrant a hearty meal is welcome after a good job, done well." 

"Yes, I agree. This has been accepted by the town council? There will be no changes down the road?" She wanted to feel gratitude but had seldom seen free and untethered acts of generosity, especially towards those least able to repay back in anyway. These people had fallen so low, many by no cause of their own, and she was loath to see them hurt by a schemer looking to line his pockets at their expense. 

She was overlooking the lower floors and saw the people happily chatting, eagerly seating themselves and readying themselves for a much needed and longed for hearty meal. She then realized Avi was silent, she turned to look at him. She could see he had heard her thoughts but she couldn't be worried about hurting his feelings. When it came to comparing the two, hurting his feelings because she didn't know him was far less of a sin than the harm a trickster could do to the homeless. 

"No, no changes. I think we all like things just the way they are. Don't you?" he replied quietly. 

Catsandra suddenly smiled, tilted her head just slightly, blanked her mind completely and looking directly at Avi said "It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Avigdor and I am so pleased at the changes that have happened since your arrival. I need to be getting back to my shop, business awaits."

Suddenly, as she turned there was a caterwauling of meows and mews and the occasional squeak which others simply took to be a few disgruntled pets, but Cat heard them clearly! 

"Can't we stay for some of that venison stew, it sounds delightful!" Abramelin said 

"And smells even better!" Sir Pip piped up

"I'd like to taste some of that freshly churned butter, Mmmm, so delicious!" 

The troupe proceeded down the stairs carefully navigating the stairs, Catsandra holding her skirts carefully, and she hissed a quiet "Keep walking, we need to get back to the shop! Right away! Follow me!" 

As soon as they were outside, the sky had cleared and a weak sun was starting to break through the gloom and haze, they walked a bit down the sidewalk until they got to the park and Catsandra took a sharp right into the park. She walked over to a large spring blossom covered bush higher than she was tall. She walked behind it, and the two cats and mouse on her shoulder were with her. She gave a quick look a round and when she saw no one was looking, she fished into her skirts side pocket and pulled out a small clear crystal ball. It fit into the palm of her hand. 

"Alright everyone, we need to make haste! Let us travel back to the Rag and Bottle shop immediately! Follow me! She secured the scarf around Sir Pip on her shoulders as he held onto her hair tightly in his tiny grasp and the cats scooted under her skirts and stood upon her feet. She looked deep into the crystal ball in her hand and soon a light beam of sparkling lights and smoke swirled around them and then everyone along with the light and smoke rose up and quickly flowed into the crystal ball and for just a single moment the crystal ball hovered in mid air, wavering in the afternoon light, in the park, behind the flowering bush and then with a gentle 'pop' it was gone! 

*** *** *** 

"How could it be so? What was he, that he could read into my mind but completely shield me from his? It's some sort of black magic I tell you!" Catsandra was in a rare mood, one seldom seen unless someone were to do something such as touch something precious of hers without permission! 

"Isn't that what you do, though? But you don't do black magic." Sir Pip squeaked. Catsandra stopped her pacing and the two cats stopped their grooming to stare askance at the little mouse! "It is not at all the same thing! I'm a witch, I'm allowed to do such things. This one though, we simply don't know anything about him. I'm not entirely sure we can trust him. For instance why? He answered how, but he didn't really answer why? What is he getting out of this? We will need to keep a close eye on our friends, and of course I need to work on a better concealment spell to protect my thoughts." 

"In the meantime, you will stay and watch the shop. I am going into the woods to seek out Shermona, I need to speak with her. She can tell if this Avi is friend or foe. I cannot take his word. I need to hear it directly from her. I'll be back soon. Sir Pip, come with me. You'll be my personal assistant in this matter." 

"Yes ma'am, I'm ready to go!" Sir Pip, piped up. The two left and went down the path until it entered the forest, while the two cats dozed on the front porch with one eye open just to be ready. One never knew what might happen. 

*** *** *** 
To be continued  

Next Chapter " Friend or Foe? 

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From the Author:  I hope you are enjoying the story of the Rag and Bottle Shop. If so, please follow my page! I am enjoying sharing the adventures of Catsandra and her familiars and the community of Castlewick with you. Please feel free to share this blog link to other fans of magical, fantasy fiction. 

I write my stories using the inspiration of the incomparable Charles Dickens who wrote and published his work during the 1800's in Great Britain in installments. Mr. Dickens was a strong social critic of industrialization and capitalism, as well as bringing to the public attention the need for social reform. Thank You for reading my work, Faith M. McCann