Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1965

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1965
by Angharad

Copyright © 2013 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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It was a few days after the confrontation and subsequent death of Jerry that Si was cleaning out the ashes from the fire in the lounge. I moved the vacuum cleaner in there to pick up all the dust after he’d finished. Real fires are lovely, but they’re dirty and entail lots of work.

“Here, what d’you make of this?” he handed me what initially looked like an amorphous lump of muck, but when I looked closely it wasn’t. It looked as if it had been made from clay or even plasticine. It was quite a crude representation but it looked like a car and through one of the tyres or wheels was shoved a pin.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a poppet.”

“Poppet? What on earth is a poppet?”

“It’s something used in magic to cast a spell.”

“Spells? Magic? What on earth is going on?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect I know someone who might.”

I left Simon to finish clearing the grate and took the ‘blob’ to my study, wrapping it in a tissue, I carefully placed it in the drawer. After deciding how I’d deal with this, I went and found who I suspected was the culprit. Taking her down to my study, I asked her if she could help me solve a puzzle. Playing to her ego, she happily tagged along. I wanted to see her expression when presented with the evidence.

“What’s the puzzle, Mummy?”

“It relates to the death of Jerry.”

“What the witch who tried to kill Jacquie?”

“I don’t know if she was a witch as such, but it struck me as strange that her car would crash and burst into flames, with no other vehicle involved. What d’you think?”

She began to look a little guilty. “How would I know, I can’t drive.”

“No, of course you can’t. Anyway, to another matter: d’you know what a poppet is?”

“A puppet?”

“It derives from the same source I believe,” I showed off my erudition and lost her again. “They come from the same word.”

“You sometimes call me poppet, don’t you, Mummy?”

“I do indeed. I was thinking about a specific use of the word poppet. They use it in casting a spell in magic.”

She shrugged but blushed at the same time.

I opened the drawer and picked out the tissue containing the ‘blob’. “D’you know what this is?” I asked removing the tissue.

She went white for a moment then blushed before the tears started. “I didn’t mean to kill her, Mummy, I really didn’t. I just wanted her to go away and leave us in peace. Please don’t call the police, I don’t want to go to prison.” I let her cry for a few minutes before speaking again.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“A girl in school showed me, we were talking about witches and stuff an’ she said she was a witch and she could cast spells an’ things. She said it worked best if you had something of the person you wanted to text.”

“I think you mean, hex.”

“Oh, do I, yeah that would make better sense. Anyway, I found a hair from Jerry in her car while you were arguing. She’d left the window open an’ I grabbed it, made the car from modelling clay and wrapped the hair round it and stuck the pin through the wheel. I only wanted to make her go away–I didn’t mean to kill her, Mummy.”

“How did this end up in the fire?”

“Just after she left, I got worried about what I did and threw it in the fire to get rid of it. Did she burn?”

“I believe her car burst into flames.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, Mummy.”

“So why did you do it?”

“To make her go away, honest, Mummy, I didn’t know she’d crash and die.” The tears started again and I refused to hug her, I wanted her to see what she tried to do was very wrong. I didn’t for one moment believe in such mumbo jumbo but people who read tabloids would be accusing her of witchcraft and murder or murder by witchcraft–at eight years old.

I don’t believe in it anyway, but I do believe everyone should be allowed to find their own path, but not one which possibly causes hurt to others. I don’t have a problem with magic, except worrying about the effect of it upon its practitioners. If it were capable of doing what they claim, it would be a very dangerous occupation to make spells and cast them–I know I’d be a goner for sure.

“So what am I to do with you?”

“I don’t know, Mummy, please don’t call the police–I won’t do it again, I promise.”

In all fairness I couldn’t do anything because I was as guilty as she was. Okay so I placed some positive energy in her car–it should do her no harm–but I couldn’t guarantee it. However hypocritical I was being, for her own sake, I had to stop Trish messing about with these things now. I didn’t think any of it worked as was intended, but if she did, she could become really steeped in it and begin to believe it and in her own powers. When that happens, they really are ready for the loony bin.

“How do I know I can believe you?”

“I promise, Mummy, I really do.”

“Okay, if you give me your solemn word, then I shall believe you as one lady to another.”

“I do, Mummy.”

“We’ll shake on it.” Which we did. “You are now bound by a solemn oath not to use spells to hurt anyone ever again. Do you agree?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“And in return, I promise we won’t speak of this again.”

“Thank you, Mummy.”

“Do any of the others know about it?”

“No.”

“Livvie doesn’t?”

“No, Mummy, she’d go spare.” Livvie can be a bit god fearing.

“And I don’t want you to go anywhere near that girl in school again. If you do speak with her about magic and casting spells, I shall have her expelled–and believe me they will, it being a convent school–and they might do the same to you. So if you still fancy going to university, I think you’d better show a little more common sense, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mummy, I am sorry.”

“Right be off with you.”

She turned to leave, “Mummy, did I really kill her? I don’t think I could bear having done that.” She turned and rushed back to me and this time I did hug her.

“I don’t think so, Trish. I believe it was just a horrible accident and I’m glad no one else was hurt. Why it happened, I don’t know.”

“So I could have caused it?”

“I don’t think the lady you see from time to time would allow you to do something as awful as that.”

“The angel lady?”

“Yes, I think she watches over you because she has need of you when you’re older.”

“To do what, Mummy?”

“I don’t know–I don’t even know what she wants me to do, if anything. But we’ve both seen her.”

“Is she an angel, Mummy?”

“I don’t know–I really don’t; for all I know she could be a figment of my imagination.”

“She says she’s the female principle. What does that mean, and why does she say it’s strong in both of us?”

“Perhaps she has a strong sense of irony.”

“She’s nodding and smiling at you, Mummy.”

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