episode 25: I Only Did One Donut

Interlude

The first of his lieutenants return. I am ensorcelled before her beauty once again. I remember her now. Beside her, the Caprinae seem bestial. Crude. Even the Eldest.

Her approach is languid, and he is amused, but she has ever pleased him in such a way. There are many rumours about them, but never any indication that any were true.

I Only Did One Donut

- David -

I watched John and Takara approaching the house through the kitchen window while Kristen and I prepped dinner. I was grateful for the quiet time, given the tough conversations that had happened between Takara and Ellen. The rest of us had stayed fairly quiet, even Babe, though he had perked up when I had discussed the possibility of bringing Louise and Cecily into the conversation, to see if they might have ideas. Ellen had quashed that fairly firmly. Still, by the time we left, no one had murdered anyone else, so I took that as a good sign.

"The place looks great," I said to Kristen.

"Thanks," she said. "We’ve put a lot of work in."

"And you’ve got a new tractor," I tried to keep my tone upbeat, but being around John and the farm brought back memories.

She turned to me. "And what do you mean by that, David Andrews?"

I sighed. "I just worry. John and I lost the farm because we got over-extended on credit, and I saw the booth by the road when we came in. I didn’t mean to offend."

"For heaven’s sake, David, I should think you know I’m not inclined to pride as a sin. Well, not about money anyway."

I had to smile at that. "I would never accuse you of being prideful."

She shrugged, pausing in the peeling of potatoes. "I want to prove to my family that we can do this, John and I. To make this work — more than anything. And, you know, he wants to prove to you that he can."

I sighed, "Because I abandoned him."

"No, not that." She paused. "Well, not just that, or even mostly that. It’s true that John feels you left him when the chips were down. But he knows now that the farm was his dream, not yours. You never wanted the country life. It was always obvious, even when we were kids. John never understood that, but he’s come to accept it. He just wants to prove to you that he deserves your respect."

That took me aback. "I didn’t think he cared."

"No, you wouldn’t. He never really showed that he respected your work, so, tit for tat. But you know he reads your writing, when he can. Still, I was surprised that he read the piece in that Vice magazine, I admit." She tsked, "I can’t I say I care for their tone. Terribly disrespectful." Then she laughed. "I will say that it pissed him off. Haven’t seen him rant like that in some time. Still, I agree with him on this. I don’t hold with magic, you know that, but God teaches acceptance and love. So, I’ll just play the long game."

I laughed. "You are a scheming woman."

She laughed as well. "Now you sound like your brother. He always says that I maneuvered him into letting me set up the pie stand."

"I have to admit, I was more than a little surprised, though I have to say that it looked a fair shade nicer than most I’ve seen."

"Oh, it is. We sell eggs, and some pickled veggies and jams, too. It’s just a drop in, take what you need and drop off some cash."

"And that’s worthwhile?"

"Well, you saw the new tractor. The down payment came out of that money."

"Wow, that’s amazing — it sounds like you guys really know how to squeeze the money out of this operation."

"Well, I certainly never wanted to be in a position where we were only fixing the things that were broken. And then fussing about what it cost. I’m not saying that John doesn’t fuss about every penny we spend."

"Good to know some things haven’t changed."

"It’s one reason I love him, you know, that penny-pinching. But unlike my family, he’ll actually do the work to make sure that we don’t spend the money, and he’ll do it right. He works so hard, David, I’m so proud of him."

I gave her a hug. "You have good reason to be. The place really looks great."

She gave me a smile. "You have no idea. I grew up here, and I barely recognize it. My brothers claim we ripped them off." She paused, hands idled in their chopping, as she stared out the window. Her face looked sad. Then she shook her head, turned to me, and gave a rueful smile. "All this, despite the fact that they were crowing about the deal they made when they sold it. Though I have to say, it wouldn’t have gone as well for us if not for Simmons."

"The Napiers say that he’s a bit of a trouble-maker."

"Yes, well, John told me a bit about what happened at the Royal." She shook her head. "We spoke to him about it, but I’m not sure if it sunk in. He’s a troubled man, but he can be generous, in his way."

"So it’s true, about the knife?"

"Yes."

"Jesus."

"Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, David."

"Sorry, Ma’am."

She swatted at me. "Smartass."

                                                                                       *

We were having dinner, when John brought up the Napiers, "So are you planning on doing a story about them?"

I looked over at Takara, thinking about the challenging conversations today, but she seemed lost in her thoughts. I frowned and turned back to John, "Trying to. Sometimes they seem into it, but you know, they’re kinda cagey. Worried about the repercussions, even though we’d discussed possible anonymity. They’d make a great piece — you know, fleeing soulless Toronto for magic and nature. I’m still trying to get at what drew her back here. That kind of story really sells."

"Pffft," said John, "Most of those people end up bringing the city here rather than leaving it behind. But still, why so persistent? Aren’t there other stories? I mean, Toronto’s a big place."

I had a mad moment where I considered telling him the whole story, everything. But well, we were getting along better than we had in years, so I kept it on topic. "Sure, well, I sure as heck hope so. But I only have one other piece in the queue, so I need to get more in the docket. I just wish they weren’t so worried about the community’s reaction."

"Hmph, they should be," said John.

"Oh, c’mon," I began, ready for the fight, but Takara interrupted me, breaking her reverie.

"Why?" Asked Takara. Her tone was both demanding and genuinely curious. 

"Well, it’s dangerous, isn’t it? There are plenty of stories. And I know you might not hold with this, but it’s just plain unnatural. The world is supposed to work a certain way. It’s not our place to change that."

"David, and they, would say that it’s no different from your new tractor. Just another tool."

John glowered a little. "You seemed to enjoy driving it around, like a madwoman."

"No, I loved driving it around like a madwoman."

"She did donuts!" interjected Nathan.

"I did one donut. And that was because of some confusion about the parking brake," insisted Takara, rather primly.

"I would hope so," added Kristen, giving John a very stern look.

He looked sheepish. "I was just pointing out the safety features."

The boys giggled, and Kristen gave them all a stern look, which stopped the boys from making further comments to the table at large; they still giggled at each other. Kristen sighed and shook her head sadly. "Still, these are the tools that the Creator gave us the wits to fashion, not a subversion of the rules that he set forth."

"According to your understanding of the creator. It’s just one god among many," said Takara.

"I believe that all other gods are imperfect understandings of the true God," countered Kristen. "But even among those imperfect faiths, there are still prohibitions against magic as a defiance of God’s will."

Takara shrugged, "perhaps it was not so much the gods that made those prohibitions, as the men who sought to use the power of those gods to their own ends."

Kristen made a face. "I’m sorry Takara, I just don’t share that view."

"No, I get it," said Takara. She sounded a little sad.

"So you agree with David, then," John said, "you think what the Napiers are doing is just fine?"

Now it was Takara’s turn to make a face. "No, from what I’ve seen, I think that they’re careless. While I may not be inclined to accept your god’s prohibitions, some rules shouldn’t be broken with impunity. Hopefully, David’s story can touch on some of that as well."

I was, frankly, surprised at Takara’s tone. I knew she didn’t like what they were doing, but still, given that she was magical. "But if they’re doing it wrong, how do we know who’s doing it right? Who gets to make the rules?"

Takara frowned at me, "Well, certainly Grandmother can talk to you about that."

I gave a short laugh. "I’m sure she could, nevertheless, formidable and wise as I’m sure your grandmother is. Why her? I didn’t think you were always on the same page?" I was thinking of Takara’s threat to Ellen the first day we were there.

She shrugged. "We disagree in details, not on principles."

"But where do those principles come from, if not the divine?" asked Kristen.

"And who enforces them?" asks John.

"Common sense, mostly, and the community watches their own. It’s informal, but no less effective."

"That scarcely seems official."

"There’s not much choice, unless magic becomes legal. So much of what is known is reactionary. I won’t say there aren’t dangers, but most tools are dangerous, if used improperly."

"Like tractors," said Kristen sternly, but with a hint of a smile.

"Like tractors," agreed Takara, sounding sheepish.