Blessings & Marvels Basket

Kisung Koh

Granoldi was a polar white Bear who had been saved from the medieval travelling show some decades earlier by the Franciscan community on the hill … or more exactly, by Francis, himself. He had come to settle in the encampment, ere before the community had a formal name at a time when the Brothers in Unity resided amongst the trees and scrub, long before there were lodgings to house them or their chapel. 

For his early participation in this very blessed history, he was revered, and also held to be a personal friend of the deceased Saint. Those who remained all respected the elderly bear in ways that the elderly should be respected. He was watered and fed and much loved.

He never failed to show up for breakfast, or Mass, with the exception of those times of his long rest of hibernating slumber. During this sleep, he would be coddled beneath an old cart that was covered with the shielding shade of a rainbow cloth, now faded from the elements.

Hannah Mary, who was also a pioneer of the early Community, would check on him several times of the day during his sabbaticals, even though the steep path up the small mountain was wearing to her aged bones. She had forgotten to count the years as they had come and gone - taking from her one by one, her brother, her daughter, her loved ones.

She knew by the plaque that rested in the stone wall of the founding block, that she must have overshot her eightieth year, but more than that could not be said of her. She never once asked herself how it was that Granoldi had remained living for so long. Magic, and all things magical, were simply and plainly accepted.

These findings were put into the blessings and marvels basket: whereupon little miracles were never to be questioned, lest they evaporate under the scrutiny, leaving only endless wonderings in their place.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Snoring Bear

“Try not to get mud on the floor,” Puck said, as the enormous albino bear shimmied into place lying sideways across the back seat of his Mercedes.

“It's good to see you old friend”, he added, noting to himself just how quiet the big bear was. He blamed himself for losing track of his whereabouts. The owner of the caravan company that had housed the faerie bear had died of old age, and he had since been relocated to the prison farm of the miniature zoo. 

“Poor chap, you really have had it hard,” Puck said affectionately. 

But Granoldi did not hear him, he was snoring ever so loudly deep in sleep.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Magic & Mango Chutney

“My life cannot go on like this.”

“Good!” exclaimed Goober. “It was a miserable one and it strikes me that a do-over is just what you need. He slapped Tu’s shoulder to exaggerate their camaraderie.” 

The two had been sitting in the bus shelter, whilst Goober was still catching his breath after the Jin’s attack. 

“Whoah” said Tu, who felt the gardener’s broad hand sting with the smack and whack over his left shoulder blade. 

“Nothing ever went right”, he continued mournfully.

“Nothing in this world works as expected - that’s its magic.” said Goober consolingly. 

“Care to explain further?” asked a mellowed monk.

“Would if I could dear chap, but dunno. That Tu, is part of the magic you see, also.” 

“So let me get this straight … ‘magic’ really stands for ‘all that we cannot comprehend or understand?”

“Precisely” nodded Goober - who was leading Tu back into the monastery, only this time it was the modern-day version.

“Why are we going back in? are you hoping it will revert back to where we came from?”

“Lord no. I thought we might sample its menu … the spiced pineapple rice sounds pretty good - the one with mango chutney.”

All Tu really could think of was that he hoped they served liquor. Goober read his mind of course, and hesitated before going all the way in. He quickly scrolled the menu to see that there was no alcohol for sale there. This time he led the way, and Tu followed him back inside.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Boo!

Just then, an elemental fairy, with a fat black body and spikes coming out from its centre, swung from a tree at Goober’s face. “Boo!” it said trying its hardest to disarm him.

Goober stepped back, caught by the surprise, and a hive erupted on his cheek. 

Another annoying sprite came at him from behind, and although it did not touch Goober or Tu, it was menacing, and aiming for maximum surprise. 

“BOO!” it shouted ethereally into Goober’s ear.

Startled once more, this throat felt like it was closing.

“These beings are the true allergens”, he mumbled, “somebody get me a spray for them!”

Tu pulled some little darts from Goober’s throat - and found that attached to three of them were fat bellied fairies that loved to suck off the energy of the allergic reaction they created.

“Begone!” the monk exclaimed, uncharacteristically. Several clung on to his own robe with persistence.  

“They are not called ali-jins for nuthin”, said Goober very seriously. “These Jins are one of the most persistent of the fay - and when they are good they are the savants of
our world - but this variety are obsessive … little Jin vampires of a kind”, he finished this statement by kicking one to the curb.

“So you have known this all along? Why do you let them get to you?”

“Wull my boy, if I could answer that, I would have the answer.” Goober said matter of factly.

His face brightened - he added, “Now what to do now while we’re out?”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Chanting looks Popular

Goober and Tu conspired one night to break out of the retreat, and go explore the city outside. Unbeknown to them previously, there just happened to be a bus stop at the gates which went to the station, the metropolis, and even the airport.

“I thought we were in the heights of Tibet” said Goober mildly surprised and a little deflated to find himself in an ordinary city.

“I had thought we were in some Brigadoon … you know, a place that lives in the clouds and only frequents Earth once a century.” said Tu, wonderingly.

Tu looked over his shoulder. The retreat even had a glass plated signage with a brochure beneath that showed up-and-coming events.

“Chanting looks popular”, said Goober squinting at the calendar over Tu’s shoulder. He could see that it was the most frequent activity open to the public to participate in.

“Oh look - they do cooking lessons for noviciates! Ha!” exclaimed Tu - “Is this the same place we just walked out of with fifty ways of cooking rice?”

Actually, it wasn’t. The retreat that they had been under the cover of, was one that existed back in time, some two hundred years earlier. Goober swallowed hard, his allergies already were beginning to kick back in. Tu is quite right - it is a lot like Brigadoon, he thought to himself.

“Oh I am so sorry Tu”, he said to the young Master who was watching his face carefully as his own began to swell. 

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

Useful for the Melting Pot

Jon had been collecting scraps of iron wherever he could steal them; discarded nails, hinges off doors, cattle traps, even the greened variety - the kind used for those little statues of the gods, the pocket gods, he smiled to himself, as they too were perfectly useful for the melting pot.

Although his skills were limited, he had gleaned enough to know how to heat and cool to temper … he understood the metal’s character, and what would make it strong, or have it split … and how to hammer and work its weight. He discovered that he had missed this, his employment, and the satisfaction it won, with every new object brought to the world as never before. He made ideas substantial. He could even stamp his maker’s mark if he wanted to. And more than this, he was useful.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series

It's all Fluff

Frederick Richardson

Jordy had an appointment at the sanctuary, where he was to deliver what he liked to call the ‘meals on wheels’ to the occupants of the Mitcham Miniature Zoo.

Primarily the menu his small business supplied was a conglomerate of offal and fish, soured grasses imbibed with insoluble minerals, and general leftovers from the livestock suppliers nearby. The food fare for the creatures of the sanctuary was rarely as promised - and lately it had been becoming even poorer in quality. Jordy had been ‘economically’ cutting corners, and adding fillers to bulk up the troughs with sawdust and cereal.

The establishment housed a variety of beasts, both alive and mummified for display, as an adjunct to the Walham estate, whose grand mansion inhaled foreign visitors quarterly as the tourist income was much needed for upkeep.

The current caretakers of Walham had discovered, like most major land holders, that maintenance on such a large property, was all consuming. And, even though they enjoyed a lavish wealth, it was clear for all to see that this generational inheritance was undeniably a burden to their dwindling funds.

Its crumbling exterior was an in-ignorable monument of scorn. The forty roomed edifice groaned and creaked its own complaint, shifting its weight ever deeper into the muddy mires of the cloudy moors. Walham’s arthritic structure, after four hundred years of housing its changing occupants, had outlived them all.

Jordy unlatched the main gate to tend to the sleeping mass - 4.30am, before the howling would begin; he strode the muddy path with buckets in hand. The heavy iron swung back and clanged defiantly, breaking the peace of the dawn with a grinding crash and click - however it sprang back again out from the latch and gaped open.

In the half dark Jordy missed this event, as he unlocked the bear enclosure with digital precision. 

The doorway to this concrete confinement had been modernised and it worked with a code rather than a key, and as he turned to secure the doorway, the old growler cuffed him over the head and made his escape out through the iron entrance and into the morning.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series