Katie’s Birthday

       Katie remembered her promise to her mother and worked hard for the rest of the afternoon, but it was hard to pay attention to what she was doing. She longed to tell someone about her day:  the ride in the car, the excellent food, the strange girl and her blowsy mother. But her mother was even more uncommunicative than usual, and seemed distracted. After several hours of work, she said, as she usually did at the end of a long session in the garden, “Enough for today, it is time to rest.”  Katie followed her back into the house. She certainly wasn’t hungry, she thought to herself, as she watched her mother stir the thick porridge of mushrooms and roots.

       Katie tried to tell her mother something about the luncheon and how much she had enjoyed it. But her mother merely nodded and said that she was glad Katie had enjoyed herself.

      Her mother measured their soup out into wooden bowls and Katie placed them on the table in the front room where they always ate their evening meal.  Ah, there was no comparison between her mother’s soup and the food she had eaten earlier! It was all Katie could do to choke down the thick porridge:  tasteless, full of chewy but bland bits of pulpy root and mushroom.  Somehow, she got through her bowl, however. Her mother had finished hers and was watching Katie. “Another bowl?” she said hopefully

     “No, thank you,” said Katie firmly. Her mother went back into the kitchen for her second bowl, but when she came out, she was carrying two bowls:  her soup, and, to Katie’s amazement, a bowl of cherries. She smiled faintly at Katie’s surprise.

        “It is your birthday today, Katie,” she said. Katie was delighted. They had fruit from their peach and apricot trees once a year – if the birds did not get them first, but Katie could only remember having had cherries three or four times in her life. “Where did you get them?” she asked.

       Her mother pushed the bowl towards her. “At the fertilizer farm.”

       Now, this was really astounding. They had only recently been to the fertilizer farm, so her mother must have made a special trip today. Katie was touched. “Thank you, mother,” she said. She was afraid to look her mother in the eye.  Then she realized something – she now knew when her birthday was! Only recently Brian had asked her, and she had not been able to tell him. She’d meant to ask her mother about it, but had forgotten all about it.

        Katie looked up at her mother.  “Is that why you let me go with Brian today?”

       “Yes,” said her mother quietly. “That was one of the reasons.”

       What are the other reasons?  Katie wanted to ask, but her mother had bent down to her bowl of soup, and Katie decided not to push her. Her mother had never been so forthcoming before; perhaps this was a sign of things to come.

       That night in bed, Katie could hardly keep her eyes open, but she did not want to fall asleep right away. The day had held so many wonderful new experiences and surprises:  her first trip in a car, the food at lunch, all the new people she had met, and finally, learning that it was her birthday, and that bowl of cherries… She lay in her bed, staring up at the moon shining through the window. Everything was perfect except for one thing: for the first time in her life, she had a stomachache.

A Night-time Meeting

       Beatrice stood and listened quietly until she was sure she heard steady breathing from Katie’s room. Good. She was amazed that the child had been able to fall asleep so quickly after all the rich, alien food she had eaten today. Their food.  She shuddered a little.  She dreaded tonight’s meeting, but she had to go. She had been remiss, and tonight she simply had to go; she could put it off no longer. Before, there was always the excuse that she could not leave Katie alone, but Katie was not young and helpless anymore, and she would have to be more diligent in her attendance from now on. She silently made her way from Katie’s room to the front room, took a black, hooded jacket from a hook near the door, and left as quietly as possible, carefully locking the door behind her.

       It was now the middle of May and warm and pleasant during the daytime, but still chilly at night. Katie’s mother hurried across the field to the meeting place.  She had lived in the same house for a great many decades, and the meeting place, most conveniently, had never had to be changed as it had so often in the time before she had lived here.

       When she arrived at the circle, she was dismayed to find that she was the last one. The others were already assembled, and looked reproachfully at her as though they had been kept waiting:  surely she was not so late!  And yet, as she approached their circle, the Mother reprimanded her gently:

       “You are late sister.”

       “I am sorry. I have had much on my mind.”

       Another woman  spoke up.

      “Sister, we have not seen you since Candlemas.”

       “I have been greatly preoccupied as of late. I wanted to wait until I was more certain…” She hesitated. This was the part she had been dreading most. “…More certain about what I must discuss with you.”

       “And what is that?”

       “I have made an error. A rather grave one, I am afraid.”

       “Is this about the child?”

       “It is.”

       “I believe you said at Candlemas  that you had begun to wonder at her behavior…and yet you vigorously denied that any mistake could have been made.”

       “Yes, that is true. I was so certain, you see…so very certain even then...”

       “Sister, there were extenuating circumstances at the time the choice was made. That I do remember…”

       “Yes, I was never an expert at augury…”

       “We are aware of that. And those who could help you at the time were otherwise employed, as I recall…”

       Beatrice nodded miserably. “And yet,” she quavered, “for all that I am no expert, it seemed so straightforward. You must understand this – the signs were so clear!  I still do not see how I could have made – if I had had the slightest doubt at the time, I would have waited until the others returned before I made my decision…” 

       The Mother interrupted her. “Refresh our memory.”

       “The child was born at County Hospital. You are familiar…”

       “Yes, yes,” said the Mother, “go on.”

       “She was born just at midnight – on this very day, as it happens…” She smiled faintly, then continued. “I spent hours casting her horoscope, to be absolutely certain that she was the right one –”

       “And it was…?”

       Katie’s mother spoke as if she knew the words by heart. “Taurus, with her ascendant in Gemini. And the lord of the twelfth house…was in the sixth.” 

       The Mother nodded and calmly continued.

       “Did you consult your familiar?”

       “Yes, I did. Several times, to be absolutely certain.”  

       “The tortoise was it?” asked the Mother, a little dryly.

        Beatrice frowned. “Yes, Sage.”

       “And he concurred?”

       “Yes, he did. Or rather, all of the events he relayed came to pass…all the signs he foresaw were borne out in reality…in short, he was accurate in almost every detail.”

       “Almost?”   There was a distinct emphasis on the word.

       Beatrice nodded miserably. “Yes, almost…”  Her voice trailed off and she put her head in her hands. The women assembled in the circle began to speak soothingly, reassuringly. No one could know everything. Mistakes did happen; who could say that she had never made one?  Finally the Mother intervened, and her tone was now gentler.

       “Tell us about Sage’s forecast. How did it agree with the events that followed? And how did it…not agree?”

       Katie’s mother shook her head. The mistake she make could have such dreadful repercussions – for all of them, for Katie. She passed one hand over her forehead, wearily.

       “Before the child was born, Sage told me when she would be born and where. And how she would look:   dark hair, seven and a half pounds in weight – and of course, the high forehead and widow’s peak. Not a pretty child, but a bright one, quick to learn. And Katie is – all that. I suppose.”  She paused.

       “You suppose?”

       “All the details of her birth were correct, she has a high forehead and a widow’s peak, her hair is indeed dark, and she is not a particularly attractive child…and she is rather bright…”

       “Rather bright, but not very bright?”

       “No. No, not what I would call very bright. Bright enough, but from what Sage told me, I would have expected more.”

       “I see. Were there other details?”

       “Yes. He told me that the child’s mother was to die young, at the age of 26…that she was someone with whom I was acquainted. And finally, that she would have a mark on her left shoulder.”

       “And all of that proved true?”

       “It did,” answered Katie’s mother, “to an extent.”  The women around her began to murmur.

       “Why do you say, ‘to an extent,’ sister?”

       “Because…well, I did know Katie’s mother. I knew that she was with child at the time I consulted Sage. And Katie’s mother died at the age of 26, only two years after Katie was born.”

       “But does she not have a mark?”

     At this, Katie’s mother began to look distinctly uncomfortable. “She did have a mark. When I first saw it, it struck me that it was not so much on her left shoulder as it was on her neck, just to the left of her spine. Not quite on her shoulder.  I suppose if I thought about it at all, I thought that Sage might have made the slightest of errors. But as to the mark…it was bright red at first, but it faded when she was about three years of age. It faded completely away…”    She stared glumly at her hands.

       The Mother frowned. “Surely all these signs do seem to point to the child you selected.  And yet you are now certain that you made a mistake. How is that?”

       “She is showing signs of being, well, ordinary, for lack of a better word. She does not seem to be endowed with any of the qualities, the gifts, the insights... In short, I do not think she is, or can ever be, one of us. I do not know how it is possible, with so many of the signs matching as they did, but I have erred in my selection. I am sure of it.” 

       Katie’s mother bowed her head. She had said it, finally, and she felt mightily relieved. Worried about what would happen, of course, but nevertheless, relieved. She had carried this burden of knowledge on her own for barely a year, but it felt like much, much longer.

       “When you say that she seems ordinary, what do you mean?”

       “It is obvious that the child is interested – nay,  fascinated with, the outside world. Not merely interested in it in the way we are, to learn how better to serve, to heal…” –Katie’s mother paused, for a moment, searching for the right words – “…she observes it as one who would participate… It is painful to watch.” She paused to allow the unanimous murmurs of sympathy.

       Taking a deep breath, she continued. “She has become friends with a boy. I wondered at first – well, whatever the reason, the two became acquainted. I tried to discourage it, but I could not stop it. The child stood by the window during the time she was supposed to be engaged in morning chores…pining…month after month. This began at least a year ago, perhaps even earlier. Ever since she was a tiny thing, she would ask questions: Where are those children going? What is school? Why cannot I go to school as well? I tried to ignore these little inconsistencies at first, I convinced myself that they were insignificant.” She stopped for a moment again and shook her head, then continued.

       “But now I see that these signs are most significant. I can no longer communicate with her without words, as I was able to do when she was an infant. She seems not to have retained the skill. That in itself is most worrying –”

       Again, there were murmurs of assent all around.

       “And the child is such a talker! Such a chatterbox!” She sighed and bowed her head. “Today she wanted to go to a … a charity banquet. She was invited by the boy. I gave her my permission to go.” She looked up and her eyes darted around the circle of women who were listening intently.

       Katie’s mother took a deep breath. “She went. She partook of the food there – their food, as you know, but food of the vilest sort.” Nods all around the circle:  every woman there was familiar with the kind of food she meant.

            “And finally, she is showing less and less interest in learning what I have to teach her. She enjoys the plant identification and illustration – at least she did, before she met the boy.  She does work in the garden with me, and she obviously enjoys being outdoors. But she shows very little interest in learning about the nature of the plants, their functions, medicinal uses. ”  She paused again, searching for the right words.

       “Of course I have taught her nothing of the world. I have taught her to read, I have taught her about plants. But it is obviously not enough for her; the child is actively trying to learn about the world on her own. Again, I felt that I could not stop this. I have…I have even allowed her to go to the library with the boy…” – Eleven women expressed their surprise in unison, and Katie’s mother continued, her inner voice betraying certain defensiveness this time.

       “I felt that I had no choice. In time, the boy would have begun to bring her books…the child pleaded with me. Truly, it was the last thing I expected –”

       The Mother interrupted. “Sister, we are not judging you. Please go on.”

       “She enjoys the trips to the library; indeed, she lives for them. She devours the books she brings home, books of every kind. In two years’ time, I had planned to begin her education in earnest – as one does –”  The circle of women nodded.

       “—and now I am at a loss as to what to do. If I did make an error – and I grow more and more certain of this every day – then I obviously cannot teach the child anymore.”

       The Mother nodded gravely, then spoke. “Has she exhibited any signs of healing power? Has she tried to find a familiar of her own?”

       Katie’s mother hesitated. “As for signs of healing power – no. She has shown absolutely no sign of this at all. As for familiars, at first I had some hope. She has always loved animals – all the stray cats that come from the fields in particular. And she has her own turtles; she has always been fond of them. I did believe, initially, that she was trying to find a familiar to communicate with, as she talks to them incessantly. One turtle in particular, one of Sage’s many offspring. But in fact, the child was merely talking to this turtle to be talking.  I have never observed any real exchange between them whatsoever.”

       There was a pause, then the Mother spoke again.

       “And what, may I ask, does Sage make of all of this when you consult him?”

       Katie’s mother suddenly blanched, then looked down at her hands again. “The fact is…Sage seems to have gone… I have not been able to consult him for the better part of a year now.”

       There was a buzz of voices. A familiar had disappeared? This was serious indeed!

       The Mother clapped her hands once for silence.     “Sister, surely this is not the first time this has happened. I believe we have talked about Sage before.  Several times, in fact. A familiar who is reluctant to do your bidding, who fails to obey your commands, who disappears when you must consult him!  – ” 

       Katie’s mother bowed her head. “It is true that Sage has this weakness. Yes, this has happened before, and obviously I am not pleased with his behavior. And yet Sage has been faithful…he has been with me for so many years.”  The entire circle was silent; one or two women nodded.

       The Mother shook her head. “Sage must be found. Perhaps he can shed some light on this situation. In the interim, I will personally cast the child’s horoscope again.”

       Katie’s mother bowed her head. “I would be most grateful. I have been so worried about what I must do to resolve this situation.”

       The Mother spoke again. “Sister, it seems obvious that a mistake was made. But any of us might have done the same, given the same circumstances. You have borne this burden with patience and fortitude. But we will do what we can, and I have no doubts that the situation will be resolved.  I do not need to tell you that if the child is, in fact, not one of us, and after what you have told us I believe this is likely the case, then we will have no more use of her.  Now, we will discuss the other affairs.”

       One by one, the other women spoke of their own affairs, their difficulties, accomplishments, questions. Katie’s mother tried to join in; in many ways she was relieved by having unburdened herself.  But what, she wondered, would happen to Katie?