"My master through his art foresees the danger that these his friends are in;
and sends me forth…to keep the living."
----Ariel, Act II, Scene I, The Tempest
THE TEMPEST
--- Shakespearean Rhapsody ---
At five to eleven, two cars pulled out of Number Sixteen, Prosper Street.
Unlike the occupants of certain streets in Surrey (most of whom I shall not name), the neighbors of the Granger family in the portside town of Brownsville-on-Somerset had much more respect for privacy.
Some women were out pruning their flowerbeds, while others washed their cars.Children ran around, climbing trees or playing tricks on unsuspecting beings. The wide, open sky unfurled giant pillows of clouds of the lightest hue around every unseen corner, dotted here and there by small colorful kites. The sun was out but kindly shaded from the residents of this small English village in its swell autumn days while a gusty wind blew the salty breeze in.
It was the perfect day for sailing.
The town of Brownsville was a beautiful, quaint village of bright colors nestling the aqua bay. There were brown and white houses with red shutters and yellow doors; there were bright green patches of land resting next to houses everywhere, with red and orange trees and shrubs beside every window.
The port hugged the water, dozens of boats tied up to their docks, with even more out in open water, and just down the coast, closer to where the bay opened into the sea, a tall lighthouse stood on the beach.
And on that beach was a certain cottage that housed a man by the name of Capt. John William Granger, also known to everyone who knew him----and nearly everyone who didn't, apparently----as Grandfather. Of course, there were a few exceptions who called him Dad, and a few more who just called him John, and there was his darling Neenie who called him by one other name.
Gampa.
But, this said captain had been through a long morning already. At the crack of dawn, he had shuffled around his shack, looking for something to eat. He finally pulled out a jar of sour pickles and, making a mental note in his head to go to the store some time today, he plopped down in his creaky armchair.
Once in a while, he threw a pickle or two in the general direction of his pet otters, who scrambled over each other in their haste to get it.
Once, a small morsel happened to land on Juno's head. Both Ceres and Iris pounced on her, Iris gobbling the pickle up at once while Ceres chewed on Juno's ear for a while before realizing that, while it was delicious, it didn't quite have the flavor the pickle gave.
John Granger laughed as Juno swatted Ceres with her tail before climbing out of the melee and sliding over to him.
After breakfast, Grandfather, Juno, Ceres, and Iris perked their ears up as they heard someone driving up in the sand. Grandfather hurried out with a broad grin, to greet his new boat-hand.
The young man looked somewhat gawky in the car, as though he had never been behind the wheel before. This struck Grandfather as rather odd for he looked to be twenty, at least. Hestepped out of the car, a large brown duffel bag slung over his shoulder, hand extended towards Grandfather, and blue eyes uncertain, as though he still didn't know whether this was the right place to be.
The captain couldn't help but feel that this young man knew things and had seen things before…anyone with half a mind could tell that from looking into this young man's guarded eyes.
Grandfather grinned and shook his hand heartily. "Welcome to Somerset, lad. I trust your trip from London was agreeable? Don't worry, you've got the right place sure enough. It isn't much, I know, but it's home for me. Where are you staying in town?"
The young man smiled, which was pleasing to his features. He was tall and strong with dark brown hair and intense eyes. He wore a simple, white-sleeved shirt, brown trousers and work shoes. Apparently he had large feet…sort of fitting for his big frame.
"I am staying at the Hidendale Inn, sir," the man replied, hitching up his bag. Hector had talked with this man, John Granger, plenty of times on the phone (rather odd, since it didn't even look like he had plumbing in this weathered cottage, let alone a telephone line) and had made good friends with him when they had first met in London.
They had talked long and hard about working on Grandfather's boat, the former captain being somewhat guarded about hiring new hands…seeing as how his last three had run off with his money.
It was at this London warehouse where they had first agreed to meet, and the young man took a break from his work lifting boxes to have a bottle of gin with the captain, who had shown up on a special request. They talked about yachts and ships and what John Granger wanted in a boat-hand. One hour later, a deal was made, the two were shaking hands, and the young man had finally introduced himself.
Hector. Pandaemon Hector.
And so here Hector was, trying out the first two weeks of their agreement.
The young man, in turn, was looking around him at the small cottage in the sand dunes and the dock stretching out into the water with a little dinghy attached at the very end. He had expected more, true, for such a widely known person as Captain John Granger, but he figured John Granger probably just had his top-of-the-line yacht tied in at the harbor in town.
Looking back at the old man, a broad grin split across his face. "Well, then, let's get started!"
Hermione sang softly in her car seat on the back bench. In her small hands she held a doll with brown hair and a red dress. She held the doll close to her body and stared out the window, looking at the small shops and cars that zoomed by.
Cordelia watched her in the review mirror. Her daughter seemed quieter than usual and Cordelia couldn't figure out why.
"Is something wrong, Neenie?" she asked in a bright voice as she fiddled with the knobs to the car radio. She had been listening to a whimsical love song, Once Upon A Midsummer Night, which was played by a popular Welsh band who had dubbed themselves"Shakespearean Rhapsody". But as she navigated their car into the parking lot of a small, popular clothing store with the wordsQUEEN ANNE'S LACEsprawled across the front window, Cordelia was willing to sacrifice the song for her daughter's happiness.
Neenie's gaze shifted from the window to her mother and stared at her. It wasn't until Cordelia got out of the car and moved to unbuckle her daughter that Cordelia found out why.
"Mummy?" Hermione asked, lifting her arms up to be carried. Cordelia picked her up and Neenie wove her legs tightly around her mother's waist, hugging her.
"What is it, darling?"
Cordelia watched, concerned, as Neenie buried her head in Cordelia's neck, and her fingers played with her mother's wild curls. Neenie gave a muffled answer that Cordelia had to lean down to hear.
"Iwanchyoudagowiffus."
Cordelia sighed, relieved. Was this the only reason why she was acting strange? But immediately, she felt a pang go through her heart.
"Oh, Neenie," she said, comforting her daughter. She leaned back onto the car, closed the open door, and brought Neenie's hidden face out of her neck. A dozen passers-by walked around them to get inside, but she didn't care. Hermione needed her.
"Mummy's really sorry, Neenie, but I can't go with you. Not this time. But----" Cordelia emphasized as Neenie's voice rose to her distress, "----But, you and me and Daddy will have our own special day tomorrow and we'll have lots and lots of fun, all right? Does that sound like a good idea to you?"
Hermione sighed and studied her mum, her large brown eyes shrewd in concentration. The wheels were turning in that brown curly head of hers, Cordelia could tell.
"Will's it be on'y us?" Neenie asked. Her mother nodded. "An' can I pick where's it we go?" She watched Cordelia hesitate, then nod slowly.
Neenie set back in her mother's arms, content. She bobbed her little head up and down. "Mm-hmm! Sounds good!" she said, imitating her mother.
Satisfied, Cordelia walked into the store with Neenie in her arms. Hermione snuck a look at her mother's face before sticking her thumb into her mouth and sucking happily.
They could go shopping now.
Meanwhile, at John Granger's house (if you could even call it that), the two men were sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers, plans, and layouts.
They shoved the small, inconsequential bed and furniture against the walls for more room. But even with the piles of socks Grandfather dumped out the window, and the large tub they both carried out onto the sand, and all of the many dishes and garbage scattered around that Grandfather hastily shoved into a bag, there wasn't that much room.
Hector sat back and rubbed his eyes. It seemed like they had been going on like this for hours. He knew full well that John Granger could do it…but he didn't even want to try. He desperately needed something to eat or drink, but the old man didn't seem to have anything worth digesting in those old cupboards of his.
John was going on about the new yacht he was planning on building, a pencil in hand, making measurements for the fore-and-aft. He didn't seem to have realized that Hector wasn't talking with him anymore; or that Hector was hardly even paying attention to the numbers that were shooting out of John's mouth.
Hector glanced down at his watch. It read 11:20…or, that is, it would have read 11:20 if it had numbers, but what it showed instead were the positions of the sun around the earth. Hector knew what it meant, though, and that was all that mattered, for they had now been working for nearly four-and-a-half hours.
He stood up, interrupting John's rant about sail width. John broke off and looked up at him.
"How about I go into town and get us something to eat and drink?" Hector suggested.
John Granger blinked and looked at the clock on his wall. "Blast!" he muttered, "Is it that time already? I've been so occupied I didn't even realize…Yes, by all means, son, go ahead! Hang on, I have my wallet here somewhere…I know I've managed to shag a few pounds the last week…"
"Oh, come off it, John! I'm not a bloody ponce, I can pay," Hector started saying.
John protested. His stubborn pride was getting in the way, yet again. But this time, Hector got the better of him. He gave a boyish grin. "Seriously, John, if you're going to be paying me to sit on my arse for hours at a time, the least I can do is pay you for a chance to get off of it!"
John roared with laughter, startling Iris, who grunted before falling back asleep again.
Hector went on, "I just need to know where the grocery store is. Er…well, where everything is, really."
With a chuckle, John gave him the directions. "It's a brightly colored store on the corner of Gonzalo-and-Main," he finished up. "You can't miss it."
With a sigh of relief, Hector fished around for his jacket. There was a strong breeze outside…it was enough to blow a little girl right off her feet. He opened the door and headed outside to his car. Just then, there was a shout and a bang from inside the shack, shortly followed by a steady string of curses. A second later, John Granger appeared at the door, a broken bucket in his hand.
"And don't forget the fish-and-chips!"
"Mummy?"
"Yes, Neenie?"
"Wha's this?" She had been walking next to the buggy, but now she climbed onto the rail and reached down inside to hold a package up to Cordelia.
Cordelia examined some winter dresses for Hermione. They were all completely adorable, how was she to pick? She held up a velvet dress with white lace on the edges.
"Erm, let me see, Neenie. That is…" she looked over at Hermione, "A rain poncho, which is like…a blanket with a hole in it for your head to go through. It's for you to wear in case it rains on your boating trip so that you won't be wet!"
"Bu'…bu' Daddy said it wasn' gonna rain!" Hermione protested, her mind going back to her parents' conversation earlier that morning.
"Well, the weather can be pretty unpredictable…" Cordelia murmured.
It was a while later in which Cordelia had picked out various long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, and a few more dresses for Hermione. She started heading toward the men's section when she suddenly noticed the silence. There were many people there doing their winter shopping, but among the many chattering people, she realized that Neenie wasn't with her.
"Neenie?" she called out.
A few teenaged girls paused from their gossiping to look at her, but nobody answered. Cordelia scoured the aisles and rows, but found no trace of the brown-curled girl among the many people.
Cordelia was starting to worry now. Her eyes caught sight of every child, but none of them were hers. She drove her buggy up another lane and another, calling her daughter's name.
Where is she? She was right behind me! Did she get lost? Did she wander off? A million thoughts flew through her mind. But right before she started to really panic, Cordelia finally caught sight of her daughter's face. It startled her considerably, if only for the reason that Hermione was standing in the exact same aisle Cordelia had started in.
She sighed in relief and ran to her Neenie. "There you are! I thought you were lost! And what is this on your head?"
Hugging her, Cordelia brought her daughter to their buggy and set her down next to it. Hermione looked back at her, confused. "Bu' Mummy, I thoughts you were los'!"
Her mother laughed. "Yes, I suppose Mummy was lost. I just couldn't see you!" Cordelia placed her hand on Neenie's hat-covered head. "I was looking for my Neenie with curls on her head, not hats!" It was a little amber hat with a red ribbon around it.
Hermione looked up at her with her brown eyes and laughed at her silly mother. "Mummy, I do! I do have curls! They's hidin', see? Here they are!" She pulled out a lock of her hair from under her cap and tickled her mother's nose with it.
Cordelia smiled, "Why, yes, I see them now! But we need to take your pretty hat off, Neenie."
Hermione pulled her lip down and her chin started to quiver. "Bu'…can't I have it, Mummy? I want it, I do, I weally, weally do! I don' have one a'tall! Not in my wholes life! Pwease, pwease, pwease?"
Growing frustrated, Cordelia looked at the price tag. It really wasn't much, after all. "Well…I guess…all right, you can have it----"
Neenie's face lit with joy, and the tear that had started sliding down her cheek evaporated almost instantly. She squealed happily and hugged the hat to her chest, kissing it soundly.
"On one condition!" Cordelia finished. "Honestly, child, promise me that you are going to behave your absolute best today!"
"Oh, yes! Yes, I will! I will for my durling liddle hat!" Hermione cried joyously.
"You aren't going to get in the way when Daddy and Grandfather are handling the boat?"
"Nope! I won' even…even…even…" Neenie searched for the word.
"You won't even try to jump in the water and swim with the fishies like last time?" Cordelia finished for her.
"Nopes!" Hermione giggled.
Cordelia sighed, reminiscing. The last time David and Grandfather went boating, taking Cordelia and Hermione with them, that was exactly what had happened. Hermione had been wearing her small life-jacket, of course, and she had previously succeeded in stuffing all of the 'durling pretty rocks' she found on the shore into it. Then David caught a fish on his line and tried to reel it in. The fish had been so big that David and Grandfather together couldn't even pull it in without snapping the line; so Hermione offered to catch the fish for Daddy, and before anyone knew what she was doing, she plunged right in.
Cordelia just hoped this didn't happen again. "Good!" she said out loud. "Now, we need to finish shopping so you can go sailing. Stay close to the buggy, it's very crowded today --- and put your hat in the buggy so you don't lose it, Neenie!" Cordelia finished hurriedly, stopping her daughter from settling the hat on her head again.
With a frown, Neenie started to argue, but Cordelia headed her off in time. "If you don't put it in the buggy, Hermione, I'm going to have to put it back on the shelf. Choose which. When we leave the store, then you can wear your hat, okay?"
Hermione nodded slowly and kissed her little brown hat once before reaching up and tipping it over the side of the buggy. She started singing softly as her mother started for the men's clothes section again. A little while later----
"Mummy?" Neenie asked.
"Yes, dear," Cordelia examined some vests and sweaters for David. He preferred to wear autumn colors----even when it wasn't autumn----but she did love him in blue.
Hermione held up a very long black belt with her eyes screwed up. "Wha's this?"
Cordelia chuckled, taking the belt away from her and putting it back on the shelf. "It's called a belt, you silly goose! Daddy wears belts, Mummy wears belts…when you get old enough to wear trousers, than you will wear them too!"
Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust. The idea obviously didn't seem to please her for she skirted around and gave the hooks with belts a wide berth, running ahead to look at some weird shoes.
She plopped herself onto the ground in front of the shelf and looked at them in awe. The fabric felt real smooth and soft and she rubbed it against her face vigorously. A minute later, she was running back to her mother, hugging a beige loafer to her chest.
"Mummymummymummy!" she cried excitedly.
Cordelia laid three vests into the buggy and looked up to see Neenie tripping over in her haste to bring a large men's shoe to her mother. A few old ladies in the next aisle laughed when she passed them, clucking about how cute she was.
"Mummy, look! Look!" Neenie held up her prize happily. "Is Daddy's! See? Is Daddy's shoesie!"
With a grin, Cordelia took the shoe from her child. Indeed, it was the kind that David wore.She was very proud of Neenie for remembering.
"An' see, Mummy? The shiny butston? Can I have it?" Hermione clapped her hands and squealed. "Can I have it? Can I have the butston? An' Daddy can have his shoesie back!"
Cordelia laughed loudly and ruffled her daughter's curls affectionately. This child was going to be a reasonable one when she grew up, that was for sure!
Hermione looked up at her with hopeful little brown eyes.
David does need to get new house shoes, Cordelia thought. After all, he had been able to touch the hardwood floor with his socks for a while now, but it had never really bothered him. Now that it was starting to get colder, however, it was high time for her to get him some more.
"I'll tell you what, Neenie…we'll get these shoes for Daddy, but we can't take the buttons off, you see? So what Mummy is going to do is the next time we go to the store, she'll buy you some very shiny buttons for your very own! Would you like that?" Cordelia picked up the other shoe's match and looked at their sizes.
"Yes! Yes, I woulds! I woulds very much, Mummy!" Neenie giggled at the thought of her very own pretty buttons. Blue ones, she wanted. Shiny blue ones with four itty-bitty holes in it she would like very much. And --- and Mummy could even sew one onto one of her dresses! Then she could wear her buttons and her durling hat together! Neenie was very excited at this and decided to ask her mother about it.
"Now all we need are some socks for your grandfather…" Cordelia muttered. She chose a few packages from the shelf, thought on it, and then seized four more.
Neenie looked at the packages and packages of socks piling up in the buggy. "How much feetsies does Gampa have?"
Her mother laughed, "Just two, why?"
"Lotsa socks for on'y two feetsies, methinks…" Hermione said.
Cordelia smiled and shook her head.
"Well, my dear," she said, "One can never have too many socks!"
When they had the buggy laden with their things and stored the bags into the trunk, Cordelia guided Hermione across the street to a brightly lit grocery store. On the blue roof, Neenie could see several squat pigeons cooing dolefully and flapping to other perches.
A slight October breeze ruffled her brown hair and jostled the red and orange leaves at the edge of town. There were many sailboats out in the calm waters that Neenie could just barely see from her view near the ground.
She held her mother's hand tightly as they crossed the busy street, her other hand clutching her durling liddle hat.
Watching the sailboats made Hermione think of her grandfather's own boat. And thinking of that reminded her of them going sailing in the afternoon. Thinking of sailing, Hermione stumbled over the curb and would have fallen if Mummy hadn't caught her in time.
A nice young man with dark brown hair and startling eyes opened the door for Cordelia and her daughter before going in himself. She thanked him kindly.
"If you don't watch your feet, Neenie, you're going to fall down." Cordelia chided her daughter, who had stumbled for the third time in a row.
Neenie pulled her head down and stared intently at her feet. Her curls fell over her face and hid her from view. And for the next half-hour, much to Cordelia's chagrin, that is precisely what her daughter did.
Behind hidden eyes, a lone man sat on a bench outside the department store on the corner of Gonzalo Drive.
Passersby would sometimes look back at him as they passed. Of course, he couldn't really see anything wrong with what he was wearing: a long tan trench coat over a soft maroon shirt, with blue jeans, socks, and sandals. Not to mention his purple vest and red American cowboy hat. He liked the colors. They suited him. And being the vain man he was, he actually thought that the people were looking at him…not his choice of clothes.
To the public he seemed to be concentrating on the newspaper spread before him, but his every resounding nerve was alert to the sounds and sights around him on the busy street.
Every other minute he glanced up at the grocery store across the road, keeping his eyes trained and waiting for someone to walk out of it. He'd seen the person walk into the store at least a half-hour ago, and they still hadn't come out, as of yet.
It was someone in particular, of course, for if it weren't for this certain 'someone' how else would he have gotten there in those spectacular Muggle clothes, right in the middle of such a primitive, Muggle street?
He scoffed and turned the page of his newspaper. A large woman clutching a lurid pink purse hurried over to collapse on the bench, wiping perspiration from her brow with a wide handkerchief. And she certainly did collapse; if he hadn't kept his body so tense and lifted his buttocks off of the bench an inch or so when she sat down, he was certain he would have pitched headlong into her for her enormous weight.
Silently cursing the overweight women of this generation, he released his tight hold of the newspaper and smoothed it out.
The large woman patted her brown hair, pulled out a stick of gum from that horrid purse of hers and started smacking her lips annoyingly. "My, my, what a hot day, is it not?" she bubbled.
It took a minute for him to realize that she was speaking to him, so irritated he was by her mere presence.
"Depends on who you ask," he muttered.
"Why, you, of course!" She chortled and slapped her thigh. "My dear young man! I just knew that you would agree with me commenting on the weather! Why else would a bloke like you wear that thing and not be hot? Answer me that one!"
He gritted his teeth, giving an impatient sigh. Couldn't they just come out of the grocery store already and save him the humiliation of answering?
Opposite him, people flowed in and out of the glass double-doors, but not his charge. The cars on the road slowed to a stop, the hand-signal on the curb flashed WALK, and even more people strode across the street.
The large woman looked at him, apparently still waiting for him to 'answer her that one'.
He gave in.
"Yes, it's hot, are you satisfied?" He answered irritably.
More people strewed out of the grocery store, scattering themselves upon the sidewalk. Among them was a woman with bushy golden hair, holding two enormous bags in her arms. A little girl with a red dress and a brown hat with its own matching ribbon stood next to her, one finger around her mother's belt loop. She looked around at all of the many people around her that were jostling her and her mother.
One young man came out of the grocery store at the same time they did. Hermione recognized him as the nice man who opened the door for Mummy, and when he caught her staring at him, he didn't scowl like most people did. He grinned at her, a very boyish grin, and managed to tweak one of her curls despite the bags in his own arms.
Suddenly, just as they were about to cross the street with the crowd, a ferocious gust of wind blew over their heads.
Cordelia's hair flew wildly out behind her. She saw an odd-looking man in a cowboy hat on a bench across the street holding a newspaper that the wind tore out of his hands. Even the nice young man beside her who had smiled at Neenie had to clutch his bags tightly as they nearly tumbled out of his grasp.
But Hermione saw none of this. All her own little eyes had room for was her little brown hat flying right off her head and high above the crowd.
"My durling hat!" she cried.
What happened next seemed to take up the space of an hour, yet it was but a minute.
The cloaked man on the bench had felt the breeze and was trying to convince the fat woman that it wasn't as hot as she thought it was, when his newspaper flew out of his hand. "What the----" he snapped.
The large woman screamed, "The child's going to get hit!"
His head jerked up and saw the little girl in the red dress tear herself away from her mother. She darted around the crowd and reached the street, her face turned up to a small hat being carried by the wind.
She never saw the car coming. But everyone else did.
Cordelia saw her daughter run away from her and out into the street. Hector watched the cute little girl he'd smiled at dodge around him and follow her hat into the middle of the road, regardless of the oncoming traffic. She ran right out.
"NEENIE!" screamed Cordelia.
Everyone turned to look. Hermione stopped running when she heard her mother's voice, and saw a large truck coming straight towards her. She stood stock-still. Every person on the street did.
Everyone, that is, except for Hector. Before he was even aware of himself moving, he had dropped his bags onto the ground, sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him towards the little girl. The world stopped revolving, everyone stopped moving, breathless. But the car kept coming.
Hermione let out a piercing shriek. The car was three feet away from her, Hector was two feet, and it was far too late for the driver to brake.
With a whir of color, a screeching of tires, and a swerving of cars, Hector soared and covered the last two feet, snatching Hermione up in his arms.
As though surfacing through a deep reverie, the world burst in motion once more. People rushed to the two still forms that were lying on the ground, Neenie clutched in Hector's arms. Cordelia broke through the crowd that surrounded the two and snatched up her child, sobbing and crying her name. Hermione appeared to be unhurt, but was very frightened and confused.
Burying her face into her mother's blouse, Neenie started crying. In the midst of all of the people shouting and cars honking, she managed to mumble through her tears, "'M alrigh', Mummy….'M alrigh'..."
Author's Note: Things are now starting to get interesting, are they not? Who is this strange man in the red American cowboy hat, I wonder? Who is he looking for? And do you think that Hector has gotten more than he's bargained for, apprenticing for John Granger?
The next chapter (just so's you know) will be called "The Magical Malediction". And don't forget to review! Thanks goes out to all of the people who have, so far...and for putting up with me, even though I've been so on and off the past few months! Iknow I'm not the easiest person to follow, but you all love my stories, right?