Make hay while the sun shines

[goddessnanshe.livejournal.com]

Mid-afternoon of Tuesday, 29th June
The Abbey

It's a bright warm day, and the church, my church, rings with the sound of a community in song. Every pew is filled, and there are even people standing at the back of the church and spilling onto the porch, leaning into the doorway to hear Ash's words, and singing out familiar hymns of summer and farmwork through the stone of the church and out into the bright air. Some of our farmers - I know them all by name, John Hale, Jasper Thornton, Lucille Cliff, Alex Brown, their dreams familiar to me as neighbours - bring a bale of new hay to the altar in offering, and my throat is tight.

Please, I pray. Please let their prayers be granted. May I still be able to do some good.

It's strange, to be able to feel such joy and such grief at once. I have such pride in my people, and such helpless frustration at what I have become.

The service ends, and everyone goes into the fresh air. Tonight they will dance together at the new hall, kick up tired heels and shake out aching muscles into new, pleasanter aches of dancing and socialising and celebrating after hard labour. For now, our community here has moved tables out from the dining hall into the yard, and the congregation has brought pies and cider to share. Children run giggling between the tables, hay in their hair, and I laugh looking at them, and feel a terrible tender pain in my heart, wanting them to be as safe as this always.

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[jack-hollow.livejournal.com]

"You may just call me Noma if you like, Deputy," and I nod again, though it seems a bit familiar-- still, guess she asked? "I see you've met Rose before."

"Ah, yeah," I say, smiling at the little girl. "Stop by the Dormouse, sometimes; she gets a lot of attention. She'n Mrs-- Miss Wanda seem ta be doing well." I can hear the relief in my voice, and I might feel a bit bad for bein' so glad her husband was gone, if he wasn't what he is.

Wonder if she'll go back ta her maiden name. Kinda hope so.

"I've been well," and I'm glad ta hear it. "This place is - Good. There's a mix of people, and the usual range of complaints and strains, but... goodness runs through them."

"Well," I answer, "town's words are est deus in nobis. Worse things for people ta live up to, I guess." Standing there in the sunlight and smiling and I realize sort of quietly I ain't wondering if I should be explaining that in English. Nice to feel someone understands, I guess.

"I think, though, I would like to be more involved in the town. It's easy to stay here, and working for this community is good, but... I would like to do more for Excolo as a whole," and that is not the kind of thing you hear a lot of so I take a minute to sort it out, nod slowly.

"Tend ta think of Excolo in terms of the people," I say thoughfully. "But that's... maybe missing the forest for the trees. The town's had a bad year, some ways. I mean, it's doing better," I add hastily. "But not sure we're-- not sure the town's quite back on its feet?"

[goddessnanshe.livejournal.com]

"Stop by the Dormouse, sometimes; she gets a lot of attention. She'n Mrs-- Miss Wanda seem ta be doing well."

I can hear his relief, and I smile a little.

"Better than before, from what she tells me. Marriage," I add quietly, "is a holy thing, but only if both parties have the same intentions."

"Town's words are est deus in nobis. Worse things for people ta live up to, I guess."

That probably depends on the god, I think, but I don't want to spoil his mood.

"The divine works through us, and when a community acts together - yes."

"But not sure we're-- not sure the town's quite back on its feet?"

"I know what you mean," I say. "But it's easy to be optimistic on a day like today, isn't it?"

[jack-hollow.livejournal.com]

"Better than before, from what she tells me," and I guess I'm sorta glad ta find that Wanda's talking to her about it. Seems a lady who's both sensible and kind, and it's a good combination. She adds gravely, "Marriage is a holy thing, but only if both parties have the same intentions."

Nod to that, and find I'm sticking my hands in my pockets, which just seems a bit clumsy; pull one out and wave a little at Rose, instead. "Were you ever married, Miss-- Noma? If you don't mind my asking, I mean."

"The divine works through us, and when a community acts together - yes," and I'm smiling, can't help it.

"Best we can be, I guess," I say thoughtfully. "Waterkey--man I knew once, ma'am--used ta say the destiny of man was to become more than man. Not... quite sure 'bout that--mean, I think people can be pretty damn good, an' the idea of becomin' more'n that seems ta sell them a bit short--but it's a good sentiment." And she says somethin' about bein' optimistic an' I look out across the yard and grin. "It surely is."

[goddessnanshe.livejournal.com]

"Were you ever married, Miss-- Noma? If you don't mind my asking, I mean."

"Yes," I say, "but he -" there's no word for it, really, that applies to humans, so I settle for - "died. And my children," I say, "which is the worst, though I lost them all long ago." I know I look like a woman in her middle-thirties, and so I smile a little and say - "I am a bit older than I look. Being a mother suited me better than being a wife. I miss them." I do; so much more since I came to have a body again. Bodies seem so good at carrying grief.

"Waterkey--man I knew once, ma'am--used ta say the destiny of man was to become more than man. Not... quite sure 'bout that--mean, I think people can be pretty damn good, an' the idea of becomin' more'n that seems ta sell them a bit short--but it's a good sentiment."

I smile back at him.

"Sometimes people need to learn to be human, it seems to me. And then there are people who aren't human who have a great deal more humanity than the average man," and I touch my hand to his sleeve very lightly.

[jack-hollow.livejournal.com]

"Yes, but he died," and there is a little hitch there, but I ain't calling any attention to it. "And my children, which is the worst, though I lost them all long ago," and I guess I blink a bit at that, although a woman aging well sure ain't the strangest thing I've seen.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I say softly. "I can't..." Well, I can't imagine, can I? There's that feeling when someone dies, but it ain't the same, I can tell it ain't the same just from how other people take it. Nothing even close ta the same. "I'm very sorry," I say again. "Hope you were happy."

"Sometimes people need to learn to be human, it seems to me. And then there are people who aren't human who have a great deal more humanity than the average man," an' she touches my arm and I look at her, an' I imagine I am seeing her very clearly, somehow. Not sure exactly what that means, but....

Smile at her, and shrug a little. "I guess some people who aren't human have an easier time of it. Bein' human. They... maybe don't take it for granted, you know? But people--real people, ya know?--get ground down, I guess, and sometimes it's hard for them ta remember what's important." Not saying it's not their fault. What they do's on them, and sometimes it breaks my heart, but people getting ground down... It has ta be hard, sometimes. Mostly I just get glad they come back to their senses.

[goddessnanshe.livejournal.com]

"I'm very sorry. Hope you were happy."

"They made me happy," I say, "and I can always remember that. And now I have new duties, and I'm glad to do them." I smile a little.

"I guess some people who aren't human have an easier time of it. Bein' human. They... maybe don't take it for granted, you know? But people--real people, ya know?--get ground down, I guess, and sometimes it's hard for them ta remember what's important."

I don't know that Jack knows I meant him, but his words confirm my good opinion of him.

"I'm glad, then, that the town has you here, to help remind them." Rose wriggles a little in my arms, and perhaps I should take her back to Wanda. "And I'm glad to know you too, Jack," I say. "Enjoy the rest of your day," and I carry the baby away.