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Sunday, June 16, 2019

Ancient Mysteries, Timeless Magic

This story was written many years ago, when I had met an extraordinary young man in Texas. He had some self-esteem issues and set about changing himself. He sort of *fell off the face of the earth,* and did not come back on the scene for quite sometime. Since he had disappeared without a word, I had no idea he was re-inventing himself. I moved on, physically and emotionally: that damned "Catholic timing" left me in a *place* where I felt like the emotional equivalent of a homeless person, sleeping outside a hotel. I still have fond memories.
*****

   Several years ago, a Highlands woman gave birth to a great, bonny boy. The child was christened with the name borne by the eldest son in each generation of his clan, Hamish MacAffee. To avoid confusing the multiple Hamishes, the lad was known throughout the village as Jamie. His great-grandsire was Hamish the Elder, his grand-da was known as Hamish the Younger and his father was called James.
   Young Jamie possessed an attribute not fully appreciated by either his family or the local populace. He had a brilliant mind that went beyond a mere capacity for the acquisition and retention of book knowledge - he figured out how and why things work as they do. Sometimes this was accomplished by deconstructing and rebuilding things around the house or the surrounding area, hence the lack of appreciation and enthusiasm for Jamie's talent. But as often seems the way of things, such a gift is sometimes accompanied by something less desirable. Jamie's curse was a touch of madness brought on by the voices in his head. They were loyal companions, who wished him no harm - and though he never mentioned them, Jamie thought everyone heard voices inside their mind.
   Jamie grew to be a very stout and sturdy lad, who longed to play rugby and cricket with his mates at school, but his mother feared that her only child would sustain an injury, so she forbade it. This avenue of social contact thwarted, Jamie withdrew from his fellow students and spent more time in conversation with The Voices.
   Still, in the usual course of events, he met a young woman who accepted his affections. She was rather pretty, slight of form and stature, and Jamie was in love, altogether smitten. The two wed and, about a year later, his bride bore twins - a bonny little lass and a fine, ruddy boy. Unfortunately, the woman to whom Jamie had given his heart proved unkind: she broke it and the damage seemed irreparable. Wounded and bewildered, Jamie tried to gather the remnants of his life and put them back together, but shattered dreams are very fragile. This fragility seemed incongruous to one so physically strong.
   Jamie moved to a cabin on his grandfather's property, leaving his children to live with their mother in the home he had built for them. He walked into town every day to work, earning what he needed to support his family. Finding him alone, The Voices again came to reside inside his head. They did not chide him for having abandoned them whilst he dwelt in a state of marital bliss, being only too glad to come fill his emptiness and make the interminable silence a bit more bearable.
   Quite some time later, Jamie heard of a wee, fey woman born many generations past to the people of the North Country. She lived a goodly distance away in a quiet village in the Lowlands of one of the eastern counties. Jamie had seen her image, and perceived that she had a comely smile and kind, hazel eyes. He also noticed she had chestnut-colored hair and a soft, amply-endowed figure. He had heard her voice, and was intrigued by its sultry melody. The Voices, too, heard the musical lilt and concurred that here was a woman who would understand them.
   Jamie began a correspondence with Bella Blum, for that was the faerie woman's name, and after several weeks, it seemed time to arrange a meeting. Now, this decision was not without risk: Jamie feared that his sheer enormity, he stood six-and-a-half feet tall and weighed twenty-five stone, i.e., about 350 lbs, might overwhelm or perhaps offend the woman. For her part, Bella wondered if her advancing years would discourage gentlemanly attentions. Loneliness persuaded them to take a chance and they appointed a time. Jamie had business with one of the Lowlands merchants, during the second week of the following month. Concluding his errand, MacAffee followed the directions Miss Blum had given him and called at her house.
   Inviting her guest in, Bella offered him a glass of iced tea. They sat and talked for a while, of nothing in particular. Then Jamie said he would like to go down to the creek he recalled from his youth, as some distantly related kinfolks resided in the area and he'd visited the region before.
   Bella packed a hamper with several thick slices of homemade bread, six slices of smoked ham, the remains of a peach cobbler, and a gallon of hard cider. Taking a worn blanket from a cedar chest, she patted her hound and left her at home as the poor, wee beastie was old, arthritic and nearly blind.
   Jamie set the hamper in back, as Bella climbed into his truck, then he got in and they drove off. It was a few miles to the creek and Jamie commented that the surrounding countryside was not as he remembered it and he told her how things had been when he was a boy.
   Following a path frequented by campers, they found a secluded, shady spot high on the bank. They spread the blanket and settled themselves to enjoy their picnic in relative silence, now and then commenting on some inconsequential thing or another, as the cider mellowed them.
   With the warmth resulting from sun and drink, came a growing desire to touch each other. Brushing a crumb of bread from Jamie's mustache, Bella's hand lingered a moment and she leaned in to kiss him. Surprised at her boldness, she blushed and started to back away. Jamie drew her close, returning the kiss and sliding a hand inside the scooped neck of her peasant blouse. She smiled becomingly and yielded to him as his kisses trailed down her neck onto her pale, creamy breasts. Desire kindled long-suppressed memories: was she not one of Goddess' own priestesses, and did she not bear the mark of the crescent moon upon her breast? Bella had lived within the confines of this society's pleasure-smothering  mores for so long, she had all but forgotten Goddess was honored by the art of earthly love.
   It had been such a long time since Bella had experienced the touch of a man; knowing he wanted her. She drew her knees up and Jamie knew it for what it was - an invitation for him to explore under her skirt. Instinctively, their bodies moved is the sensual nuances of a dance as old as time, leaving garments cast off. Whispers and kisses filled the afternoon. Time lost its relevance, seeming to expand. Hands grasped yielding flesh, faces were pressed into intimate places, and the heady perfume of musk was intoxicating, as well as invigorating. Bella's full, pendulous breasts, hung over Jamie's face, the taut nipples inviting his mouth. Her own mouth sought his swelling manhood, and she eagerly received the oblation of his masculinity. As he laid her on her back, seeking entry to her depths, he paid homage, kissing the mark of yin and yang, below her navel. It still surprised her to find it there, though she had tended what was, in reality, a burn scar, anointing it with aloe, to help it heal.
   There were lulls in conversation, filled by the whispers of the breeze rustling the leaves of the trees around them. Jamie even spoke of the voices he had heard most of his life, Bella smiled and inquired about them. Mildly astonished and somewhat pleased that she accepted their existence, he spoke of them quite matter-of-factly, saying they served him variously as counselors, advisers, and friends. He told her on occasion, especially when he was tired or perplexed, they did not seem quite so benevolent. Not so much that they nagged or scolded, just that they would not be still long enough for him to think.
   A passerby might have seen what appeared to be a swarm of dragonflies hovering about, but it was The Voices. They were delighted to realize that this fey woman knew Them, understood Them: not merely as a corporate entity, but individually! There were lights dappling the water too, but it was not a reflection of the sun, as some might suppose: it was a sacred entity, awakened by sacramental copulation. The Voices rejoiced that Bella would not banish Them but would welcome Them. They recognized in this unprepossessing woman the presence of ancient wisdom and blissful sensuality of women like Igraine, Morgana LaFey and the priestesses of the mystic Isle of Avalon. Indeed, Bella had read the old stories and was very fond of them. She found magic in the commonplace because she sought it, knowing it was there, if one truly wanted to find it. Indeed, she held the belief that the Goddess was honored by enjoying sensual pleasures. It had been a long time since opportunity presented, and the mores of the times in which she lived had dulled her passions. Those passions needed only a bit of tinder, to re-ignite.
   The man and woman passed the time most comfortably, pleased to have found in each other a kindred spirit who was good company. Just passing the time without having to do anything particular, Jamie noted that Bella, though no longer a maiden, evinced a youthful character that kept her young at heart. He found her easy, musical, laughter enchanting; her body enticing, and he experienced a lightheartedness he had not felt for some time.
   For her part, Bella, who had a fondness and an affinity for wild creatures, found Jamie's ursine qualities rather endearing and she loved taking his great, shaggy head into her lap. Thinking again of how his thick red beard had felt against her fleshy thighs, Bella shivered and felt her nipples harden. Later, she would touch herself, thinking of how she felt with his mouth on her clitoris, of him turning her over, swatting her bottom and entering her from behind.
   The pair realized the passage of time when they observed the nearly transparent image of the full moon in the twilit sky. Gathering things, and pulling her disheveled self together, Bella commented that the lunar orb had seemed to retain its fullness a couple days longer this month. Jamie smiled, saying he had also noticed. They got into the truck and drove back to town, silently content to see the moon take on a deep, rusty-orange hue, as it dominated the horizon. The emerging stars were complemented by the twinkling of fireflies.
   Home again, Bella asked Jamie to sit on the porch swing with her and take a cup of tea before leaving. Etiquette deigned that each thank the other for a lovely day and when Bella extended her hand for Jamie to shake, he brought it to his lips and ever-so-gently kissed it. She smiled and stood on her toes so she could brush her lips against his. Even though he'd spent the afternoon in intimate, carnal knowledge of her ample, desirable flesh, he blushed, and got into his truck. Before he left, he said he would like to return, if he may. She replied she hoped he would come back soon.
   Taking her dog out for a short evening stroll, Bella pondered musingly on the spark, which might well become a consuming flame. Bella had known the great, roaring blaze of passion, and was not averse to the notion of being so consumed yet again. She began to look forward to Jamie's next visit, whenever that might be.

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