The Courtship of Cerridwen Circe Whitethorn
Chapter 1: The Red String of Fate
Another day of lessons had come to an end. The hallways of Benton Academy were now strangely quiet. As I walked down the long, empty hallways, my mind started to drift. Unlike most of the students of this school who claimed to be some form of Christian, I had been born and raised in the pagan tradition. And times like this, when the dust from the day was starting to settle, and the long purple shadows of evening seemed to crawl along the walls. Rumors of the many ghosts that were said to roam the school once the sun had started to set started to pop up. I pushed those rumors back into the far corner of my mind, I knew that the school was indeed haunted.
My school was haunted by at least a dozen different ghosts, but none of them would bother me, mainly because I did not bother them. Also I knew enough magic to keep them at bay. I'm sure many of you are wanting to know their stories. And I'm afraid I'm not one to tell them. I only know most of them are trapped spirits, trapped between this world and whatever waits us beyond this life. They are enslaved if you will by their desire to still walk among the living. Far from being scary, they are really sad. I felt sorry for many of them. Can you just imagine being trapped here on earth because you're too afraid to let go of the past? Even though you really have nothing left to live for? Can you picture just for a moment the world around you changing, and you can't change with it or enjoy the change? To me that would be hell, and it's sadly a hell of their own making.
I'm not sure what the various Christian churches say about “Heaven” or “Hell”, but I believe many people make their own version of “Hell” or “Heaven” when they're alive here on earth, and when they die they simply move into that world they created by their own actions. I also believe they can move on anytime they want, but instead they are trapped here. Like the teenage girl who haunts the girls locker room, she can't see beyond her nose. I mean she hung herself from the rafters, why she hung herself rumors and legends hold the answer. But what I do know is she has enslaved herself by committing suicide there. The sheer amount of negative emotions she generated in that one instance forged a link of chain that only tethered her soul to that room.
Now, I know only a little about energy work and I knew that girl was trapped in that room. I also knew it was beyond my skill to cut though those chains. And so she remained and still remains to this day raving, shouting, and cursing those who bullied her in life and now alas bully her in death. Quite sad really.
Anyway the sun was starting to set over the pine, willow, and fir trees that surrounded the school. I still had a good hour or two before the school closed for the day as the doors were locked and the night watchman would start making his rounds. Again my life was like an anime, only in an anime would a girl be roaming around the halls an hour or so after class. You see the reason I was staying behind was to practice playing the fiddle in the music room on the third floor.
Mom had pretty much decided in infinite wisdom that I needed to learn how to play the fiddle and so she went out and brought me a second hand fiddle from Potter Mercantile. She enrolled me in music lessons at the new music shop that had opened on main street. She had also gone out of her way to enroll in the music club, she did this all without my permission. But being the push over that I am, I decided to just roll with the punches. Mom pretty much always had a reason to do things like this, and so I decided to just trust her.
Anyway in my haste to get to the next class I had left my fiddle in the music room on the third floor and was making tracks to retrieve it. Once I reached the room though I paused and blinked. Somebody was in there. I knew as much because I heard playing, it sounded like somebody was playing their heart out. Taking a deep breath the door opened and standing there in the room, totally lost in his playing the boy I considered the price of the school.
He was dressed in a white button shown shirt, with a black tie looped around his neck, his long brown hair was tied back in a long flowing ponytail. And his blue blazer was tossed over a chair and his soft features seemed to glow in the evening sun. He seemed almost angelic, and handsome. I felt a chill run down the spine of my neck.
Then he started to sing. And when he did, I believed for a moment that angels did walk this earth.
“Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee! E'en thought it be a cross that raiseth me, still all my songs shall be, nearer, my God, to thee; nearer, my god, to thee, nearer to thee!” His voice seemed to echo into the empty chamber. And his soft, southern accented voice seemed to hide a brewing storm of emotions, like he was pouring out all his sorrow, wormwood, gale and misfortunes into the lyrics.
“Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down, darkness be over me, my rest a stone; yet in my dreams I'd be nearer, my God to thee; nearer my God, to thee; nearer my God to thee, nearer to three!” His voice seemed almost trained now, like a cable that has too much pressure on it and is about to snap and whiplash backwards. And for a moment I swear I saw tears rolling down his cheeks, salty tears. It made me wonder what kind of hidden emotions were trying to break to the surface as he played his song and sung out his devotion to God? I could feel energy starting to swirl around the room. The boy was standing in the middle of a massive cycling whirlwind.
“There let the way appear, steps unto heaven; All that thou sendest me, in mercy given; angels to beckon me nearer, my God, to thee; nearer my God, to thee, nearer to thee! Then, with my waking thoughts bright, with thy praise, out of my stony griefs bethel I'll raise; and so by woes to be nearer, my God to thee; nearer my God, to thee, nearer to thee!” At this point I was forced to take a step back. The boys eyes were open and they were sparking. I could feel it, a power that I've rarely felt here in this school a power I've rarely felt outside the Hollow.
My eyes popped open. I had to take a few more steps back and stare in pure disbelief at what I was seeing. All around him I could those powerful waves of energy starting to flow. Then I felt it, a glowing piece of red string seemed to attached itself to the middle of my chest, the string, then shot out and attached itself to the boy who was playing. I was stunned, shocked and frightened, I tried to back up, I tried to reach down and take hold of the cord, my hands passed right through it.
And then it happened. A lovely vision came into my head. I saw myself clothed in white gown, a strapless white gown, clutching a bundle of flowers, white roses. I was standing in the back of a huge church. The name “St. Andrew's Episcopal Cathedral” came to me, I knew just about where it was located because mom and I had passed by it a few times on our monthly trips into Jackson. It was this huge, Gothic looking Episcopal Cathedral that was located downtown. It always seemed oddly out of place amid the sleek towers of polished steel and glass that surrounded it.
The church was full of people, both sides of the church. And there standing beside the high altar was the boy I was looking at. He was dressed in a tailored tux, his long brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. His oddly colored pink eyes seemed to sparkle like jewels. The mid afternoon sunshine bathed the stone statues of the saints as it streamed through the stained glass windows of the church. And then nothing, nothing but me floating among the clouds.
The vision only lasted a moment before vanishing from my mind. Then it happened, the boy stopped playing and slowly lowered his fiddle. A faint blush colored his high cheek bones as he turned his eyes toward me.
“Oh Sorry Cerridwen.” He said blushing, “I totally got lost in playing, and I totally spaced out.” He said as he started to go around the room and collect his things.
Now my mind was racing about ninety miles a minute at this point. And something deep inside me told me that mom had been secretly playing matchmaker behind my back. I mean could this have been her reason for going out and buying me a second hand fiddle? I knew despite dad's high paying job at Yazoo Chemical and mom owning her own business money was tight around the house. And mom often counted pennies by the handful, and carefully watched the household budget from one week to the other.
Could this have also been the reason for her enrolling me in the music club without my permission? For finding me a tutor? All so I could by chance meet this boy? Jeez mom thanks I guess?
“Hey! Daisy!” I cried as I rushed into the room.
Daisy paused and looked up. His handsome features made my heart jump into my throat. Damn I was crushing so hard on this. Shit this was going to be hard. But I took a deep breath and pushed ahead. I knew if I did not make my move now, there was a good chance another of the girls at school would move in and snatch him up. And I would lose him forever. Daisy was one of those rare prizes you had to fight for.
“Yes?” He said looking up.
“You want to have lunch with me sometimes?” I said without thinking. “Mom always packs me a huge lunch! And it's often more than I can really eat in one setting. And plus the food here is you know, it's hit or miss. Some days it's good, other days it's terrible.” I added. “Plus, I know this really nice place we can sit and chat!” I paused. “I mean we share our lunches too!”
“Sure, that would be cool,” Daisy said smiling. And with that he brushed right on by me, “I'm sorry I can't stay and chat with you Cerridwen.” He said blushing as he said my name. “I gotta rush home and help Taylor's mom with some chores around their house. I'm kind of their house guest for the school year.” And with that he vanished from my sight as he walked quickly down the hallway.
Once I was sure he was gone, I stepped into the empty classroom. Closed the door behind me, and fell down upon the floor. My heart was racing with the speed of a freight train trying to make up for lost time. And I knew I had just found the man I would marry one day. And then before I could catch myself I found myself uttering “Cerridwen Circe Bell..” I paused. “Has a nice ring to it. Or maybe I could get Daisy to take on the 'Whitethorn' name to keep it from dying out.” I mused.
To Be Continued.
