Hummingbird

by Susan C. Gore

  Along with the voices of the dead, would come images of events, it would be like a dream yet crystal clear, within the dream I was given messages to pass on but sometimes I was left with the scene only and no idea who the vision was for? When I told my mother of this, she was both shocked and mortified as she knew this sort of thing was dangerous and I must promise to keep this to myself, never to tell anyone outside the family. She went on to tell me I had inherited this skill from my grandmother whom I cannot remember meeting as she had died not long after my birth. Apparently, she was known to be the local ‘Fortune-teller’ of the village in her day, and people would come to her from afar for explanations, predictions or contact with their deceased loved ones. But this was the year 1629 and this sort of thing was now classed as Witchcraft and if caught and found guilty, it carried the Death penalty! However, my visions became more vivid from this day forth; on another occasion I was visited by a burly seafaring man by the name of Jack; He begged me to tell his wife Norma that the man she was seeing frequently was not right for her. He was out for the home and its contents, once he got his hands on this, he would ease her out! What was I to do? At such a young age I could not approach an adult with this sort of message, plus I had no idea who Norma was! I approached my mother and told her what I had been charged with; at first, she was taken aback that I should be given such a message, and then she ranted about my dabbling into the unknown.

  “Oh my God,” she said, “this is your grandmother all over again! I’ve warned you about what can happen, leave this to me, I’ll sort it out!” She left me in the kitchen where we had been talking and went into her room. I never knew what happened in this instance as Mother took it upon herself to convey the message; she knew exactly who Norma was.

  My visions were not just of people, but of places, events and animals; I would, at times, find a dog sitting beside me, or a cat run across the front of me when I was out scouting herbs, they would even sit beside my bed during the night. My mother knew that this gift could not be suppressed, but she made me promise that I would not practice the art outside of immediate family, better still, keep it away from Maud. This was all well and good, but the problem was that my sister knew of my skill and she would probe me for information of her future, would she marry well? Would she have children? Was she destined to be rich and famous? My answer to her was always No, No and No! She grew tired of this and called me a fraud, she said that she would one day reveal to the whole world just what I was, and I would be punished severely. I knew that from now on I should play down my gift with Maud and agree that I was just making things up as she said, hopefully that would satisfy her twisted little mind.

  During my hours of seclusion within the barn I would go into a trancelike state and connect to the spirits. I always said a prayer of protection first and foremost, and the spirits would come to my mind’s eye and communicate their stories to me. There were times that the spinning did not get done as I was so engrossed with my calling. I had to discipline myself to spin first then communicate later. In the early days my visions never included my family, try as I might, I longed for the vision of my own future but to no avail. I soon learned that this skill was not for self-gratification, but for the help of others; except for one session where I was shown a little girl, she was petite yet sturdy; she worked hard on the farm and would overcome any obstacle in her way, she was full of life and determined to live life to the fullest; I saw her take a fall down by the river, she cut her knee quite deeply. Blood ran down her leg as she stumbled home to her parents; though I did not see her features I assumed it was her mother that tended to the wound and stitched it together. I recognised the house; there was a room at the back which was full of lotions and potions! I then saw the girl transform into a young woman; she met a handsome young man, strong, hardworking and honourable; for some reason I was given an image of a brown dog which was significant to the man? They began to see each other more often and eventually fell in love. The man was besotted with her; it was love at first sight for him, whereas the young woman took a little longer. Eventually they married and had twin girls! It was all so quick yet so clear, I was amazed at this revelation; I was being shown the life and times of my parents! How they met and became man and wife.

  I told my mother of this vision and she was dumbfounded. She lifted the hem of her dress to her knee and sure enough there was the scar left from her fall! Something she had never discussed. When I told her of a small brown dog that had significance to my father, she went bright red! What had I said that could evoke this reaction? She laughed and told me that my father had a birthmark on his backside in the shape of a small brown dog! This was a revelation and we both sat and laughed. I refrained from adding that I was also shown a special tree that was of some significance; beneath the tree laid a faceless man, he had neither movement nor life spark about him, he just lay there with his arms crossed over his chest?

  Chapter Two

  As time passed by, I grew to be very adept with the knowledge of wild herbs and the best places in which to find them; I honed my spinning skills to an exceptional standard and could spin the wool to a fine texture that attracted the best offers at the markets. Time spent at the spinning wheel relaxed me and gave me the time to which I could have my private thoughts in my private space. I still connected with the other side but did not speak of it out loud and the connections grew stronger and with more clarity as I grew older. An elderly lady would visit me often and just sit across from me watching me as I spun my wool; I knew she was from the other side yet felt at ease with her presence. She was a kind gentle soul with a warm smile and a motherly aura about her; I like to think she was my grandmother watching over me. I felt a bond with her like no other; she never spoke, just watched for a few seconds then faded away.

  I knew that one day I would be like my grandmother and provide a service to the community with the gift that had been bestowed upon me. I sought out as much information as possible on the subject from the older generation of the community, without creating any suspicions. The older villagers remembered my grandmother and would tell me tales of her skill with communication. She was always ready to help those that sought her out and she was highly revered. I was fascinated about the subject and encouraged them as much as possible without creating concern; some of the elders were willing to tell their tales of how they had been helped by my grandmother and only too glad that someone wanted to sit and listen to them, whereas others appeared to be afraid of the subject and would shun it as devils work. I learned that the authorities would stop at nothing to catch a Witch and have them put to death for their evil doings. I knew I had to tread carefully, I could not draw attention to myself or I would jeopardise my whole family. At a young and tender age, I was sure this kind of fate could never happen to me, as I did not think of myself as a Witch; I did not, nor ever would, succumb to the darker side of witchcraft. This type of person would conjure spells or make threats to people upon demand, making life unbearable for the poor unsuspecting victim, this was certainly not me. I only wanted to do good deeds and help the people around me achieve comfort and peace, knowing that their loved ones were free from their earthly burdens.

  My daily routine on the farm was to collect the eggs, feed the chickens, milk the goats and then assist Mother with her apothecary trade. My spinning time was always in the evenings as I found this to be my time of relaxation, away from the family as a whole, but especially away from Maud and her snide remarks. My days were full, but I loved the farm life and all it entailed; to be able to now give advice or a suggestion to my mother was a great accomplishment. I knew she was proud of me and relieved that she could take life a little easier in the knowledge that I was more than capable of taking over. One night whilst spinning my wool and contemplating the next journey to the market, I had a visitation from a male spirit, he was middle aged and quite handsome; He showed me a vision of my mother sleeping peacefully, I was with her and was combing her hair gently so as not to disturb h
er. Her features were relaxed and calm but very pale, flowers were all around and the air was filled with their sweet scent and the atmosphere was one of love, peace and tranquillity. He told me to prepare myself as the family would look to me for support? I figured that this message was for much further down the track and dismissed it. I did not recognise the male spirit, it was no one that I had encountered in our circle of friends, yet I felt that I should know him.

  I put a lot of hard work and effort into my spinning craft over the next few weeks as it was nearing time for the annual fair ground to visit the town. We always looked forward to this as there were fun and games to be had, along with prosperous sales of our wool and wares. This was about the only time that Maud and I got along and had fun, our parents would give us pocket money to enjoy ourselves. We would try to win a prize on the coconut shy, or the hoop-la; we rarely did but it was fun trying. Many of the locals would be there having a good old time, the men would visit the ale house and the women would join in the barn dancing. A Maypole was erected in the town centre and the women and children would dance around it to a happy rhythm of music played by the local band, and just like magic the pole became encased in a plait of colourful fabric or ropes.

  My apothecary skills developed as each year passed by, which was reassuring to my mother as she began to slow down notably; she would entrust me to make up batches of creams and ointments for her clients more and more, knowing that I was quite adept at this task. She grew tired and edgy by each passing day and was not her normal calm collected self. I would assist her to the fireside with a hot toddy and a warm blanket across her knees, assuring her that it was her time to relax and take things a little easier. Gradually she became weaker and no longer made it to the fireside chair but remained in her bed, she was losing weight considerably and we were all concerned. I gently combed her hair and made her look beautiful, yet she was so pale. I picked wild flowers and placed them by her bed to cheer her. As I went through the motion of combing, I suddenly felt as if I had done this before, then it came back to me! My visitation from way back was a premonition of my mother’s demise! With this recall I knew that she was nearing her end and we were about to lose her, I felt she knew this also. Meanwhile I soothed her as much as possible and catered to all her needs, assuring that she was free from pain by using a potion made from ‘wild lettuce’ commonly known as ‘opium lettuce’.

  I searched in vain for a cure that would bring her back to her beautiful, vibrant self, but it was not to be. Just after 1:00 am on a balmy summer’s night she passed away in the peace and quiet of her beloved home. It was filled with the aroma of wild flowers which were in abundance and she was surrounded by the one’s that loved and cherished her; it was just as I had envisioned. The family was shaken to the core; our mother was the one that gelled this family together and made us function as a team. She was the one we turned to for advice and guidance; she made all the decisions that needed to be made so as not to burden our father. It was the way of a loving wife, to tend her husband’s needs and give him little to worry about. Father took her demise hard, she was his reason for living, and it was as if someone had cut off his right arm, leaving him weak and unable to function. I had to be his strength and tried to pull him back to reality in order for him to thrive again. I found myself in the predicament where I needed to encourage him to come back to us and not revel in the darkness of despair. He lost his will to live and would refuse to get out of his fireside chair; he would just stare into the flames looking for some sort of answer as to what he should do. I sat by his side for many hours at a time and just held his hand and gave him words of encouragement. He asked me to try and communicate with his beloved in order to seek her advice. This took me aback! I was amazed at this request as I assumed that this was a secret between my mother and myself; never imagining that she would have confided in him. How naive of me to think that they had secrets from each other; they were as one and inseparable. Try as I might I could not access any communication from my own mother, it was as if someone had put up a blank wall, maybe it was too soon and maybe I was too close to the situation; but believe me, I tried so hard, not just for Father but for myself also.

  Though William Croft loved his daughters dearly he could no longer continue without his beloved; I watched him sink deeper into despair and could not reach him. I was surprised one morning to arise from my bed to find an empty chair by the fire, Father had rarely moved from it. I looked around the house at first, then out into the yard calling his name, but he was nowhere to be seen. I felt the need to venture to the field up and behind the house to where the weeping willow stood majestically. This was their tree that held so many memories for them and where they shared so many hopes and dreams. As I approached the tree, I sensed what I was about to find but the foresight did not ease the pain as I found him hanging from a branch of this beautiful tree. It was not only their tree but the family tree where we had spent many a picnic beneath when we were children. They had told us often that this was their tree and it had a special meaning to them. Before we were born they would sit as a couple beneath the sprawling branches hidden from the world by the drooping luscious boughs that draped close to the ground, and they would ponder the future and all that it may behold, it was their place of peace and tranquillity, a place to escape the toils of working and raising a family, a place where they connected. Father needed to be with his love and could no longer endure a life without her; for him, it was the only path he could see. He had chosen to take his own life just two weeks after we had laid Mother to rest. When I found him hanging there I tried to reach him to get him down but it was futile, I knew he was dead, I just crumbled to the ground and sobbed for what seemed an age. Eventually I pulled myself together and ran for help at a nearby house, the men came with me and cut him down, they laid him at the base of the tree and crossed his arms over his chest. This was just the way that I had envisioned previously; little did I know that the faceless man was a premonition of my father’s demise.

  I found myself arranging yet another funeral whilst still mourning over the first. Maud was rendered useless as always when needed, she took to her bed and would not leave her room. Mr and Mrs Appleton came to visit and helped me with the arrangements; they were my parent’s best friends. Gareth came with them, he was my best friend and someone that I really needed at this time; he was so kind to me and offered his shoulder should I need one to cry on, and this I did. I was very fond of Gareth and craved a little attention for myself for once. I found that he understood my feelings and the need for a companion at this time and he was a total gentleman. He made me feel worthy and capable, yet vulnerable to a point where it was alright to give in to my innermost feelings and just let the whole floodgates open. I had kept my own grief tightly wound up inside for so long that I needed to let it all out or just explode.

  For what seemed like hours I sobbed into Gareth’s shoulder, he gently released me and guided me to my room for a rest, I was exhausted. His parents were in the kitchen, preparing an evening meal for us all and they watched over us. It was a relief to let someone else take the burden away, even if it was for just a short while. We arranged for Mother’s grave to be re-opened in order for Father to be laid to rest with his bride. At first the Reverend Cantrell did not want to put Father in the church grounds as suicide was considered to be a sin; but because Father had been such a pillar to society and dedicated to his work within the church grounds, he made special dispensation for him. The funeral was a sombre occasion; most of the villagers came and paid their respects to a man that was once a pillar of society. When the funeral was over and the mourners had left our home, it dawned on Maud and I that we were now left to fend for ourselves; we were twenty years of age and quite capable of managing on our own, but, as we clashed horribly before, things would now become worse, we clashed even more and there was no third party to intervene.

  Life together became unbearable, something had to change. Maud stated that she did not want to linge
r in this ‘house of death’ as she called it; she wanted to be free from the constraints of village life. She had other ideas that were more grandeur than the village and its daily drudge. She had been dreaming of a new and vibrant life in the capitol, the stories she had heard from the traders in the past enticed her; tales of grand houses, theatres and lavish parties, all appealed to her senseless demeanour, she insisted that this was to be the life for her. She would move away from the lifestyle she had known and resented all her life, in order to seek her imaginary ‘Knight’. She wanted a life that would become her; she was destined to become a Lady! And nothing was going to get in her way. Our parents had a little money put to one side which we split between us; however, she wanted her share of the house value, which was hers by right. I knew she was not interested in coming back to this house and I did not want her to be a part of it anyway. So, we came to an amicable settlement, one which would help her get established in her new venture and one which would see me set up as a self-sufficient woman. But she was not interested in the least about the life I would have or if I should cope alone. She did not think twice about leaving me here to fend for myself as that was just the kind of person she was, selfish to the end, we bade each other farewell as she and her belongings were driven off by coach. I was left alone and free to create a lifestyle that would befit me, and I could now pick up where Mother left off. It would be lonely left in the home that had held so much life and vitality for so many years, but I would bring life back into this little cottage and add my own flavour to its character.

  I held no fear of this house, it had been my home for 20 years and my grandparents’ home before that and their parents before, and so on. I knew every nook and cranny of the house, it was warm and full of fond memories to me, I would make my mother’s business my business; she had taught me well and I would continue her legacy and make her proud. I continued to study the herbs and wild flowers and I added to my mother’s journals and depicted the values with sketches of each plant and its beneficial principles, there was so much to keep me occupied.