There was a gleam in Michael’s eyes whenever we were together that hadn’t been there before. I think he was proud to be a Wood Sprite. I knew that a lot of people at school were starting to admire him because of his strength and the things he could do. His hands healed fast, but he would keep a few little scars from his tests.
Light spring rains fell, and we gathered at Penny’s house to plan our Beltane celebration.
“My mom’s doing an even bigger garden this year,” Penny said. “She’s already planted some of the seeds, but we can do a spell for the whole garden anyway, can’t we?”
“Sure. Bring what seeds you can. You want to do it this time?”
“Uh . . . okay.”
“I have something,” Michael said. “If you guys think it’s okay. I was wondering if maybe Penny could do a Tarot reading for me. I have about three job possibilities and I can’t decide about them. What do you think, could we do something like that?”
“Sounds like I’m going to be busy on Beltane!” Penny said.
“I’m doing the lesson, at least!” I said.
“But is it okay to d0?” Michael insisted.
We thought about it. “I think so,” I said. “You’ll get paid, but that’s reward for your work, not for the magic.”
“I agree,” Penny said. “I’m better prepared now, too.”
“I have an idea for something new,” I said.
“What?”
“Why don’t we eat at the Grove? A potluck!”
“Yeah!” Penny said.
Beltane eve was cloudy and warm. It was a Saturday, but we didn’t get together until late afternoon because we all had things to get ready. I read a little more to prepare for the lesson, and then worked on my potluck dish —
noodles with sauce and sliced wieners. It would be easy to reheat over the fire.
Michael came over about 4:00. “No music tonight. My hands aren’t ready for it.”
“Did you get that sheet music you wanted?”
“Yeah! It looks really neat. I can’t wait to play it. I brought cans of juice and all kinds of cookies.”
We rode over to Penny’s house, and she was ready with potato salad. As soon as we got to the picnic area, we got into our cloaks and checked over our supplies.
“Wait a minute!” I said. “Did anyone bring plates and silverware?”
Dead
silence.
“I’ve got a serving spoon in my salad someone can use,” Penny said.
“I’ve got my Athame.”
“Come on, sissies, we’ll live!” Michael said.
We all laughed at our situation and headed for the Grove. For the first time, we had daypacks over our cloaks. Noodles and wieners just couldn’t go in pockets.
As we walked through the woods, Penny said, “My mom’s got tons of old plastic dishes and stuff. I could bring a set for each of us to keep in the hollow.”
“Great idea! Plates, cups, and plastic silverware. We can wash them at the picnic area.”
“I’ve got a big camping pot we can keep here,” Michael said. “We could cook things if we needed to.”
“Or make popcorn!” Penny said.
“Yum!” Michael seconded the idea.
“We dedicate this Grove as a place of worship and magic, where Wood Sprites and good Spirits are welcome. Only white magic is done here. Only love and caring belong here.”
The sun hadn’t set yet. Penny built a fire and we passed around the bowl of potato salad and our one spoon. As soon as the main dish was hot, we took turns eating the noodles with the spoon and spearing wieners with the Athame. It was fun, and it made me realize that we couldn’t do the things we did without sharing germs.
Just after sunset, we all lit candles from the fire and entered the Magic Circle. I collected my thoughts for the lesson.
“The very first religion was fear of ghosts and superstition. People didn’t really know anything about God or Spirits, so they just made things up to try and explain things. Most of the things they made up were pretty simple and selfish. But once in a while God spoke to the people.”
“Prophets and people like that?” Michael asked.
“Yeah. So after people learned a little bit, they invented magic. Life was hard. They wanted to talk to God and his Spirits and ask for favors.”
“How old is magic?” Penny asked.
“No one knows. Prehistoric, at least the simple stuff.”
“How old is history?” Michael asked.
I had to think about that one. “People have been keeping records for about 6000 years, I think. In some places, but not everywhere. Anyway, God kept talking to people. Moses, Jesus, Muhammad. People invented religions so they could all agree on how to talk to God and the Spirits. Religions use a mixture of things, some of them magical, some of them just customs.”
“Are there white and black religions?” Penny asked.
I thought about it. “I don’t know, Penny.”
“Why do some people hate magic?” Michael asked.
“Probably because they don’t understand it. Or because they think it’s all black.”
“Maybe some of them hate it because of things in the Bible that say Witches and stuff are bad,” Penny said.
“That
too.”
“Are witches bad?” Michael asked.
“Are people bad?” I asked him back.
“Some are. Okay, I get it. It depends on if what they do is black or white magic, or whatever they do.”
I closed my eyes as a sign that it was time for us to ponder and pray about what we had heard. Are there black and white religions, God? Are there selfish or hurtful religions? I thought of the Crusades for a moment. Could a religion be bad, God? Not the whole thing but just some little parts of it? I understand. “God, please hear our prayers.”
I moved to let Penny get in front of the altar. She brought out a little green candle, lit it, and set the packets of seeds on the altar. “Spirit of Green Plants, I am burning this candle of fertility in hopes that you will watch over these seeds, and the garden they will grow in, and the plants that are already there.
Last year you sent a vervain to my mom’s garden for protection. This year, I will plant one . . . and . . . I will watch over the garden, too.”
Penny looked a little unnerved for a moment, and sat there looking at the green candle. I don’t think she had intended to say that last part. I understood. I already knew how inspiration could come unexpectedly while doing a spell.
She blew out the candle and lit a purple one. I opened the notebook to record the reading, and Penny got the 22 major Tarot cards ready.
“Michael, close your eyes and think of the 3 paths that lie before you. Take the cards and shuffle them as you think about the jobs.” She handed him the cards. “Spirit of Counsel, please help me to give Michael the knowledge you think he should have to make his decision.” Then she just sat quietly as Michael mixed the cards.
“Is this enough?”
“If you feel finished.”
He handed back the cards.
“Picture the first path, Michael. This is the near future on that path, this is the far future.” She laid down two cards, face down. “Picture the second path.” She laid down two more cards. “And picture the third path.”
“Should I tell you what each path is?”
“Not yet. Let me read the cards a little first. The first path — you know what it is — begins with . . . sacrifice in the near future, and later . . .
deception.” Penny gave Michael a moment to think.
“The second path holds victory and success, and later . . . a catastrophe or accident.” She looked at Michael. He looked at the cards.
“The third path begins with . . . folly. You will be, or seem to be, a fool.
And later . . . attainment. You will become the Adept, the master.”
We were all silent as I finished my notes. A breeze tickled the treetops above us. The flame atop the purple candle danced.
“The first path is a real wage-earning job, but it’s as dead-end as they come. Janitor in a daycare center. Maybe the deception is that it would be dead-end.”
“Or maybe you would work a month and then they wouldn’t pay you,” I suggested. “That would account for the sacrifice, too.”
“Hmmm. The second one is a machinist’s apprentice. An accident?”
Nobody said anything about that one.
“The third one is a baker’s apprentice.”
“Michael, remember how worried you were what people would think when you started doing things with us?” I asked.
“Yeah . . .”
“Look at the second and third paths. Machinist. Victory. All the guys would look up to you. Baker. The Fool. Some people would laugh at you.”
“But look at the second card,” Penny said. “Accident or attainment?”
Michael was silent for a minute. “Do you have it all written down, Ariel?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks, Penny. I’ll have to think about it.”
Penny picked up the cards and put the little box into her cloak. Michael looked thoughtful.
We asked a blessing for all gardens and fields and cattle everywhere, and I broke the bread to share. We sat by the fire awhile, but Michael was quiet the rest of the evening. Sometimes he would look at the notes I had made.
Sometimes he would just gaze into the fire.
Penny and I let him be.