Auntie Jessie comes home

It was evening when Auntie Jessie and Two Hours Max came into the garden, carrying their blankets and just one small bag of things. They didn’t have much. They walked very quietly down the path. Hineni looked up, and saw them standing there. “Hello!” he shouted. He scrambled to his feet and ran to meet them.

He showed them their space on the shelf, and they left their little mound of things there, and came down to join the others sitting round the fire.

You can’t always imagine how it will be with a person who comes to stay. People carry a certain amount of baggage on the inside as well as on the outside. People shine with different light from each other. It’s not easy to tell until they arrive. 

But Yūgen, sitting next to the Great Bear (who was all better now), looked at Two Hours Max, who had found a space to sit quietly by themself, and at Auntie Jessie who had somehow become surrounded by little girls, and she thought that — yes — this was going to work.

It wouldn’t be possible to say how this had happened exactly. Auntie Jessie was shy and quiet, though she had a kind of merriment in her smile. They were late with supper that evening — there had been a confusion about whose turn it was to cook. But when at last everything was ready and Kanso said it was time to eat, Auntie Jessie said to the little girls, “We can pretend we’re in a café, can’t we? Out on the town, the happiest people on earth.” 

And sometimes, what you pretend becomes sort of true. That’s how reality comes into the world. It starts with an idea.

Jab

And then, before Auntie Jessie and Two Hours Max even had a chance to move in from their old place and make their new home on the shelf, a thing came to pass that felt like the end of the world for a day or two. Ursa, the Great Bear, was ill. This had never happened before. Stars are not often unwell.

It was because the Great Bear had been for her injection — the one to protect a person against catching the virus. Ursa very much wanted to have this injection, because it is part of loving. 

When there is a virus like this one that goes all around the world, there are different things we can do to help. Just ordinary soap and water makes viruses give up and go away. And they need to hop from person to person, by a cough or a sneeze or by people touching each other — so when we stay at home or leave a big gap between people it helps. 

But now there is the injection, and that will be a big help. A person who has had the injection is protected against the virus, yes, that's true. But that was not why the Great Bear wanted to have the injection.

She wanted it because it meant that if she couldn't catch the virus, then she wouldn't be part of passing it on round the world. 

Ursa couldn't go to India and help the poor people who have been so ill. She didn't have a job in a hospital to look after people who needed help. She didn't have much money to help people whose lives had gone wrong because of the virus. But this one thing she could do. Having the injection meant she could be part of helping and loving, part of making it stop.

A person has a beautiful thing inside called the Immune System. It has a whole rainbow of loveliness, everything from special blood cells to the power of happiness. It gets strong from all kinds of things that you might not think were connected — sunshine and music, the food you eat and having a peaceful rest, being loved and playing in the garden, stroking animals and praying — all sorts of things make a person's immune system strong. Amazing.

The great work of the Immune System is to create wellbeing and parry the Adversary. It does this — and this might sound surprising — not by inflaming things but by calming them down. It is for generating and establishing serenity and cheerfulness. Its chief weapons are animal fur and vegetables. Who'd a thought it?

When someone has the injection to stop the virus spreading round the world, it makes the Immune System inside sit up, suddenly alert, and say, "Uh-oh!" And then, "On guard!!" It knows something that doesn't normally belong there has come into the body it lives in, so it pays attention with all its might, to protect the body where it lives — because that's its actual job.

And when your Immune System is parrying an adversary inside you, you can feel that struggle in every living cell! It can make you hot and feel sick, it can give you pains and even make you poo. A lot.

Ursa knew that the injection would help stop the virus from travelling around, and help keep her safe from catching that virus herself. But she also knew the injection might make her feel ill. She knew it could happen. She expected it. So she wasn't worried, but nobody enjoys being ill, do they?

The Great Bear went to the Vaccination Centre and had her injection and came home. 

And then in the evening, she began to feel very tired.

She sat down quietly.

She thought she might go to bed early.

Then she started to feel hot and shivery both at the same time.

Her legs were hurting. And her head hurt inside.

So she went to bed, but in the morning she still felt ill.

Ursa stayed in her bed and rested. She wasn't worried or afraid, she just felt ill.

Yūgen came to see her. "Are you okay?"

Ursa said she was okay really, and she was pleased to see Yūgen, but she didn't feel very well. So Yūgen sang her a little song and made her a cup of tea, and then just let her rest.

Danshari came to see her. "Can I get you anything, Ursa?"

He brought her some lemonade with ice in it, which was lovely. Then he stayed to read her a story. And then he just let her rest.

And after a while — not very long, just a day or two — Ursa's Immune System got over itself. It came to terms with the stuff in the injection and declared a truce. The Immune System and the injection stuff understood each other and could stop struggling. Once everything was integrated, and the injection stuff had come into harmony with her body, Ursa began to feel better.

Her headache stopped, and she felt less hot. Her legs stopped hurting and her whole body began to feel like its normal self again. 

"I am so very glad I had that injection," said the Great Bear to herself as she sat up and thought about eating porridge and going for a walk. "If just the injection made me feel ill like that, imagine what it would have felt like to get ill from the virus."

She thought about people all around the world who had been taken to hospital, and been terribly ill, and even died; and she was so, so grateful she'd been given the chance to have her injection and be part of a way to make it stop.

(Not) telling Nimby

Last night when everyone sat round the fire and heard about Two Hours Max and their Auntie Jessie moving in, Nimby had not been there. It had been raining and he’d gone out looking for slugs.

Danshari thought it would be prudent to tell Nimby in advance about the arrival of two more trolls. He might need time to get used to the idea.

So he went down the garden to see if Nimby was at home. 

It wasn’t always easy to tell. If you took the top off the compost bin and looked in, you could see the little tunnel Nimby had made, but he whisked away down it out of sight as soon as he heard the first noise of the lid being lifted. 

Usually Danshari knocked on the front door, and called out, “It’s me.” Mostly he added, just to be sure, “Me, Dan de lion,” in case his voice came through the compost all muffled and Nimby mistook him for George Fox. Nimby absolutely refused to answer the door to George Fox. 

George accepted this humbly. “After all,” he said, “not every Fox lives by the Peace Testimony. But one day they will. It says so in the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, saith the Lord. The lion shall lie down with the lamb.”

George Fox thought they’d made a good beginning in this garden.

But he had to concede that the vision of the prophet had apparently not extended to rats and foxes, and everybody must live with reality. Still, they’d made a start, and sometimes that’s all you can do.

As Danshari approached the compost bin, he heard a squeaky little rat voice from inside. Nimby was singing. Danshari paused. He stood and listened to the song. It went like this.

“Oh the way of the world

Is all stony and rough

But the worst bit is travelling with you.

The teeth must be sharp

And the tongue rasped and tough

To get by, to survive, to bite through.

The fruit is all rotten

The bread hard and dry

The mildew is turning it blue.

The bedding is lumpy

And riddled with fleas

But the worst bit is travelling with you

Yes, siree: 

The worst bit

The worst bit

The worst bit by far

Is sharing this muck heap with you.”

Danshari hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed quietly away. Another time, maybe.

He found Yūgen sitting by the fire with a cup of tea. She looked up. “Was Nimby home?” she asked. “Did you tell him?”

“He was singing to himself. I didn’t like to interrupt him.”

“Oh, yes,” Yūgen nodded. “I caught a snatch of Nimby’s song when I was in the garden first thing. Did it go like this?

“The wind’s from the east

The rain’s turned to hail

And this gristle is frightful to chew.

I’m thirsty and bored

And the fruitcake’s gone stale

And there’s nothing in this bag but poo.

That fruit is fermenting 

It smells foul in here

But the worst bit is travelling with you.”

“Yes,” said Danshari. "Yes, that was it.

“The worst bit

The worst bit

The worst bit by far

The worst bit (but what can you do?)

The worst bit

The worst bit

The worst bit by far

Is sharing this muck heap with you.”

Yūgen nodded thoughtfully. “Catchy,” she said, after a moment’s reflection.

“I think it’s a love song,” she added. “He was probably singing to his wife.”

“What?” Danshari looked up sharply. “I didn’t know Nimby had a wife!”

“Oh, yes,” said Yūgen, “but you don’t often see her. She doesn’t get out much, and when she does it’s mostly at night.”

“Do you know her name?” Danshari asked.

“Dental Floss,” said Yūgen.

Danshari took this in. “Pretty name,” he said. “What does she look like?”

“She looks like Nimby,” said Yūgen. “It’s not easy to tell them apart. But if you go past the compost heap when Nimby’s singing, and you listen carefully, you can hear a second voice putting in the harmonies.”

“Well, I never knew that,” said Danshari.

Making room for Auntie Jessie

There came a day, once all the Anawim had come home, when the shelf was full. There was just room for everyone but no space for anyone else. In fact it was not always entirely comfy on that shelf, if the truth be told.

And that was without Two Hours Max!

Of course, Two Hours Max actually lived somewhere else, with their Auntie Jessie, but there had to be room for them when they visited, even if they never stayed very long. Everyone had to have a space on the shelf, even if they were just calling by.

On this particular day, Two Hours Max and Hineni were hanging out in the garden doing nothing special, just talking, wandering about here and there.

And then Two Hours Max said, in a matter-of-fact kind of way, “My Auntie Jessie can’t keep her house. We have to find somewhere else to live.”

Hineni didn’t know what to say at first. 

He had got to know Two Hours Max little by little, and put together some idea of Two’s home like doing a jigsaw puzzle. Just from things Two Hours Max had said.

“My Auntie Jessie was married to a troll called Ernie but one time when she was in the hospital she just never went back.”

“My Auntie Jessie says she has a Physical Elf and a Mental Elf and they’re both a bit crazy.”

“I used to live with Mum and Dad, but they wouldn’t let me wear the clothes I like and they wanted to call me by my old name . . . and other things . . . I asked if I could stay at Auntie Jessie’s instead, after she got her own place, and they said it would be a good idea. They thought I’d be good company for her when she was in a bad patch.”

“I won’t stay long. My Auntie Jessie isn’t very well. She says she’s fallen into a pothole in the Valley of Baca, right up to her neck.”

And now this.

“Where will you go?” Hineni asked. “Will you go back to your Mum and Dad?”

“No,” said Two Hours Max. “I asked, and they said I could have my old room again, but there wouldn’t be space for Auntie Jessie. I said she could share with me, but they said no, they didn’t want her. Dad said it was her own fault, she should have stayed with Ernie.”

“So . . .” Hineni thought about this. “Does that mean . . . So . . . You and Auntie Jessie — you won’t either of you have a place to live?”

“That’s right,” said Two Hours Max. “I expect we’ll think of something.”

Hineni had actually opened his mouth to say, “Come and live with us, then,” when he thought he’d better check.

Instead, he asked, “When do you have to move out?”

“A week on Thursday,” said Two Hours Max.

On a pretext of getting them some more apple juice and a bag of crisps, Hineni went in search of Danshari.

He found Danshari, after looking in a few different places, chatting to Yūgen and the Great Bear. They had a pot of tea on the table, and they were eating buttered toast.

“Can Two Hours Max and their Auntie Jessie come to live with us?” Hineni knew this sounded unexpected, but he wanted an answer in the time he could reasonably be thought to be fetching apple juice. “Auntie Jessie has to move out of her house a week on Thursday, and they haven’t got anywhere else to go.”

“Of course,” said Yūgen.

“Of course,” said the Great Bear at exactly the same time.

“Where?” said Danshari. “It’s getting a bit tight on that shelf. And Nimby won’t want them in the garden.”

“Well,” said Hineni, “I was wondering if they could have a little space of their own on the shelf where the medicine goes. At the end, where the things waiting to be washed usually hang out.”

“Sure,” said Yūgen.

“Good plan,” said the Great Bear.

“Where shall we put the laundry?” said Danshari. 

Hineni couldn’t think of an answer to this.

“I expect we’ll think of something,” said the Great Bear. “Tell Two Hours Max it’ll be okay to come here.”

“Auntie Jessie as well?” Hineni checked, to be sure. “I think she might be a little bit unusual . . .”

“Of course,” said the Great Bear. 

“It’ll be fine,” said Yūgen.

Danshari didn’t say anything. He was concentrating hard on solving the problem of where to put the laundry.

“THANK YOU!” said Hineni.

He took two bags of crisps and two glasses of apple juice out into the garden.

Two Hours Max smiled. “Cheese and onion,” they said. “My absolute favourite.”

“You can come and live with us,” said Hineni. “Both of you. Auntie Jessie as well.”

Two Hours Max’s hand stopped halfway between the bag of crisps and their mouth (Two Hours Max’s mouth, not the crisps’).

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Yūgen and Danshari and The Great Bear say it’ll be okay. We can make space for you.

“Wow,” said Two Hours Max. “Well, I’ll be . . . That’s fantastic.”

Later on, as they all sat round the fire in the evening, Danshari told all the others about Auntie Jessie, and that she and Two Hours Max would be coming to live with them now.

So just like that, it was decided. Hineni hoped things wouldn’t be more crowded than Two Hours Max could cope with, and he hoped he would like Auntie Jessie.

 

Fath Ead

 “Why do people in books call each other fath ead?” Hineni asked Two Hours Max, as they sat by the fire on that evening in late May, with Two's blanket round their shoulders just to be sure — it was very cold once the sun had gone down.

“What?” Two turned their head to look at him in puzzlement. “Call each other what?”

“Fath ead,” said Hineni.

Two Hours Max blinked, and continued to frown. Hineni could see the cogs turning inside. Then their expression cleared.

“Oh! Right! I see! Fat head.”

Hineni felt a little hurt by this. “I’m sorry? Why . . . ?”

“Fat head. It’s what they’re saying. Not fath ead. It’s because you only ever saw it written down, Hineni.” 

Hineni’s mouth dropped open as he took this in.

Then he felt really stupid.

“Not only that,” Two Hours Max said hastily, “but you know Dr Syooss? Yes? Who wrote The Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham? Well, apparently his name is actually Dr Soyss.” Two nodded impressively as he watched the surprise in Hineni’s face. “I know, right? Soice like voice. Who’d a thought it? And not only that, but there are psychopaths all over Holland.”

“Psychopaths . . .” Hineni faltered uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“Well I was when I heard it said.” Two Hours Max grinned at him. “But not when I saw it written down.”

"Fath Ead," they added, affectionately.

Becoming friends with Two Hours Max

All through that cold, wet spring, Hineni spent a lot of time with Two Hours Max. 

Hineni had several brothers and sisters, but even so he had sometimes been lonely. Wabi and Sabi mainly lived in their own arcane world. They even spoke their own language sometimes, that no one else really understood. Hineni loved his sisters, but they were younger than him, and sometimes he had things on his mind they didn’t really understand. They often wanted him to play with them, and he would, but sometimes pretending to be horses or dressing up as brides lost its appeal. In Two Hours Max he found a friend he could really talk to.

Hineni would be thirteen that summer, and Two Hours Max had their fifteenth birthday last autumn, so they were not the same age, but near enough to get on well. They were both interested in birds and plants, in philosophy and poetry, and in the stars. There was so much to talk about. Even so, Two Hours Max never stayed long. They’d show up on any given day after lunch at some point, and before tea time they’d get a bit restless, and murmur, “I think I have to be going now,” and wander away back into their own world.

They never stayed more than a couple of hours, and they never talked much about their life at home.

“Two, do you have a girlfriend — or a boyfriend?” Hineni asked one day, in what he hoped was a casual sort of way. 

Two Hours Max looked at him. “Why?”

“I just wondered,” said Hineni. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Dignity and privacy are both gifts we give each other,” said Two Hours Max. “There’s so need to ask about those things.”

“I’m sorry,” said Hineni humbly. “I didn’t mean to spoil everything. I take it back.”

There was a silence.

Then Two Hours Max said, “No, I don’t. I think I want to be a nunk.”

“A what?” Hineni frowned. “Do you mean a nun or a monk?”

“Yes,” said Two Hours Max. “That one. I want to be just myself. All round my body is a sort of coat of light and peace, and I like it to remain entire. I can’t manage too much mingling. And I get tired of people who never go away, even if I like them. After a little while I begin to go mad inside. I have to be just quietly, where I can breathe.”

Hineni thought about this.

“Oh. Am I . . . ? Is this . . . ? I don’t get on your nerves, do I?”

“No,” said Two Hours Max firmly. “No, you don’t. But look, I have to go now. I’ll see you soon.”

And off they went. They never looked back or waved, just walked quietly away. But Hineni knew they would come back. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he felt completely sure he could trust that Two Hours Max was a true friend, and would be for ever.