Recipe for Rebellion (Zodiac Girls)

by Cathy Hopkins

  Pffff, I thought as I glanced over it. What would anyone with a name like Reinhold know? And anyway, I don’t know anyone with that name. Some idiot must have sent the message to the wrong phone.

  Chapter Six

  Bonkerooney Land

  As I waited at the bus stop, I could see a few girls from school watching me and whispering behind their hands. Tales of my exploits had spread through the corridors like the Asian flu and I couldn’t blame anyone for talking about me. I’d have been discussing the fact that someone had caused the swimming pool to turn bright red too if I had any friends. Which I don’t.

  As I stood at the stop trying to look cool, my zodiac mobile began to play its strange little tune again. Any image of looking indifferent went right out of the window as it blew its trumpet fanfare and a couple of people in the line behind me sniggered. Probably a wrong number again, I thought as I checked the message box again but no, this time there was a text message from Joe.

  “Hey Danu. Zodiac Girl. Jupiter is in an expansive mood,” it said. “Come to tea!”

  Not a bad idea, I thought as I didn’t relish going back to the empty flat the way I was feeling. Plus I had to rethink my escape plan. So okay, Joe liked to think he was a planet, so what? My mate Fran used to talk to an imaginary friend when she was little, Bernie used to have long conversations with her cat and Annie used to think that she was a princess who had been stolen by gypsies and sold to people who pretended to be her parents. Everyone has their fantasies and the deli was safe enough. It was a public place. It wasn’t like I was doing something stupid like going to meet a stranger somewhere isolated. And I was hungry. No better location to rethink my plan, I decided as I crossed to the other side of the road to the bus stop for Osbury.

  Joe was delighted to see me and I was glad I’d made the detour. Even though I’d only met him recently, I felt like I’d found a new friend and it felt good to have a smiling face to greet me at the end of the day as opposed to an empty silent flat.

  “So how was school today?” he asked as he placed a big mug of hot cocoa and fresh pancakes with maple syrup and bananas in front of me.

  “Disaster,” I said. “And I’d looked at your site this morning. It said it was a day for being rebellious and to go for it – but it didn’t get me anywhere.”

  “Where did you want it to get you?”

  I decided to tell him the truth. I was tired of playing the tough girl who didn’t care about anything. “Home, Joe. I want to go home really badly. I don’t belong where I am. It’s horrible and I want my old life back.”

  Joe sat down opposite me. “Ah. Change. Nothing as certain and nothing as uncertain.”

  I hadn’t a clue what he meant. “Is that some kind of riddle?”

  “Not really. There is nothing as certain to happen in life as change. Everything is changing, all the time. Nothing stays the same, does it? The weather, the news, the seasons, the leaves on the trees, the days of the week, every cell of your body in fact.”

  “So?”

  “So sometimes the changes come from within us. We choose them, like a new hairstyle or a purchase or a decision to change the décor of a room. We control them to a certain extent. Sometimes, they come from outside. We don’t control them. Like an earthquake or a train accident, not our choice at all. Know what I mean?”

  I nodded. “I guess. I didn’t choose the change that happened in my life. That’s for sure. It was decided for me.”

  “And that’s the uncertain bit,” continued Joe. “Change can make us all feel uncertain. Especially the kind which we don’t choose. Like, we have no control and fear what’s going to happen next. But you know what? Sometimes things change for a reason. To move us on. To help us grow and further our journey. It doesn’t always feel like that at the time, I know.”

  “Well I feel like my journey has gone backwards. I can’t possibly learn anything where I am. Nothing happens there. The only books at Aunt Esme’s flat are a telephone directory and the A-Z. I love books and my old house was full of them, in every room. And I have no-one to talk to. I feel like I’m living in a vacuum. I just wish I could be back home as things used to be.”

  “It won’t be the same there you know. Things will have changed there too, with your old friends, with your old home, your old school. That will have moved on also. Nothing and nobody escapes change.”

  “Maybe. But at least I felt I belonged there. People knew me and cared about me.”

  “You have me now,” grinned Joe. “Guardian for a month. I will help. Help you to think big!”

  I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I smiled back. “Yeah. Right. That. I guess. It’s not quite the same as having my dad or Mrs Wilkins our old housekeeper or my mates around though.”

  Joe looked sympathetic. “I know. I know.” Then his face split into a grin again. “Know what Jupiter means?”

  “It’s the planet of jollity and expansion isn’t it?” I knew that because I’d looked it up in the library in the afternoon break at school.

  Joe nodded. “But the word, it’s from the Greek, Diu Pater. Jupiter. God father. I’m like your godfather.”

  “If you say so Joe,” I said.

  “Well you don’t look too pleased.”

  “Sorry. Just it’s been a hard day. Nothing turned out how I’d hoped and now I feel I’m stuck.”

  “Ah. But life is what you make it Danu. Like the saying, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

  To Joe’s bemusement, I laughed. “Actually I could do that,” I said. “Lemons are one of the few things Aunt Esme actually has in her fridge! She never buys any food or cooks or does any of the normal things that make a home a home.”

  “Then there’s a place to make a start. Make lemonade. You like lemonade?”

  I nodded.

  “So make some,” said Joe. “This is what you have to learn, Danu my friend. You get my text before?”

  “About coming for tea? Yes.”

  “No. The one before that.”

  “The one from Reindeer Nebu or someone?”

  “Reinhold Niebuhr. ‘Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.’”

  “I thought that was a mistake. Sent to the wrong phone.”

  “No, I sent it. To make you think. Listen Danu, if you’re not happy with the hand that fate has dealt you, then do something about it. You have two choices. Sulk or smile. Sink or swim.”

  “That’s four choices…”

  “But you know what I mean,” said Joe.

  “But I have been trying to do something. I’ve been trying to get expelled and then I can go home.”

  “Okay,” said Joe. “Let’s start there. Home. It sounds important to you.”

  “Is. Was.”

  “That’s because you have a lot of Cancer in your birth chart.”

  “Yeah. I saw that. Cancer rising. But I thought I was Sagittarius.”

  “You are,” said Joe. “Your Sun sign is Sagittarius but your rising sign is Cancer.”

  “Don’t understand,” I said.

  “There’s a lot more to astrology than being one sign. Yes, you have a Sagittarius Sun sign but you are also affected by where the Moon was when you were born, where Venus was, Neptune, all the planets. There are ten of them and they all affect your chart in different ways. You have a strong Cancerian influence in yours. Home is very important to Cancers which is why you won’t have liked being uprooted.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said as I sipped my hot chocolate.

  “Well, as a Sagittarian, you like space. It’s the sign that most likes space around them so if you’re cooped up in a small flat, it’s no wonder you’ve been finding it difficult.”

  “Too right. That’s why I want to go back to my old house. There was plenty of space there.”

  “What happened to it?” asked Joe.

  “Rented out to a new family.”

  “So yo
u can’t go back there can you?”

  I shook my head. “I guess not. But there have to be other options.”

  “There are always other options,” said Joe. “Always. So okay, let’s look at them.”

  “Okay.”

  I was beginning to like Joe more and more. He was the first grown-up in ages who had actually taken me seriously. He seemed to understand why I was unhappy and was listening to what I had to say.

  “So home,” he said. “Important. Right. What made your home a home?”

  “It was where my pets were and they were always happy to see me when I came back from school or anywhere. There were always people round. There was always the smell of baking. It felt warm. There were books around. We had a great garden. Fresh flowers on the table. And even though Dad wasn’t there a lot of the time, I knew he was around somewhere.”

  “Right. Good,” said Joe. “So. Let’s think. Which of these elements do you think that you can bring to where you are now?”

  “Um. None. Not really. I can’t keep my pets there. They need to get out into a garden and anyway, they have new owners now.”

  “What about new pets?” asked Joe.

  “Still need to get out into a garden. It’s not fair otherwise.”

  Joe nodded. “Except goldfish. You could get some fish.”

  “I guess. But… Um… No… It’s very much my aunt’s flat and I somehow don’t think she’d like it. She likes the minimal look, nothing on the walls, no nick-nacks, no pictures, definitely no fish! The flat smells… clinical somehow, like a hospital, not a cosy smell at all.”

  “Does she spend much time in the flat?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hhmm,” said Joe. “Maybe she doesn’t find it very homely either. Maybe she’d like to see someone who’s pleased to see her when she comes home. How do you greet her?”

  I thought back to most times when she came home. Usually I was in bed asleep or I just grunted at her from the sofa. Not an especially welcoming hello. But then, she wasn’t exactly Miss Happy-to-See-You when she came in. Usually she had something critical to say before I’d even had the chance to say, hi, good morning or evening or whatever. I guess we both had a lot to learn.

  “Okay. Let’s go back to the basics,” continued Joe. “You said something about the smell of cooking. Smells of baking. Yes. I like those too. How about you create some of those yourself? Learn how to cook. I can give you a stash of easy recipes.” He got up and went to rummage around behind the counter from where he produced a pile of papers.

  “Here. Recipes. For you to try.”

  “Me? Cook? Never.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  “Not really.”

  “There you go then. You’ve given up before you’ve even tried. So that’s your choice. Loser.”

  “Loser? You’re calling me a loser?”

  Joe nodded. “Yeah. Loser. Given up before you’ve tried. The one thing you could change but you, yes, you, have chosen not to.”

  “But I’m only thirteen.”

  “So? Where in the rule book does it say that you have to be a certain age to cook? Anyway, you’re thirteen next birthday. I’ve seen your chart. You’re an adventurer. You’re curious. You could probably be an excellent cook. Give it a go. What’s your favourite meal?”

  “You mean like my death meal?”

  Joe looked puzzled. “Death meal?”

  “Yes. If you knew it was to be your very last meal on earth and you didn’t have to worry about calories or cholesterol or all the other stuff adults worry about, what would it be?”

  “Easy. For me, lasagne with extra cheese and homemade vanilla ice cream with raspberry sauce.”

  “Good choice,” I said.

  “But it was supposed to be me asking you what you liked,” laughed Joe. “So, what’s your death meal?”

  “Chips. Big chunky ones. And mayo to dip them in. And chocolate muffins, like Mrs Wilkins used to make. God, I miss her cakes. She was a star. Carrot cake. Banana. Vanilla. Almond.”

  “Poor Danu. No cakes. Oh woe is me, poor poor little me,” groaned Joe.

  “Well it hasn’t been easy…” I began and then realized that he was teasing me.

  “Hmmf,” said Joe. “I am afraid I have no sympathy at all. You could have been eating Mrs Wilkins cake every night if you wanted and treating your aunt to some as well. Instead you’ve been moping about like a mopey moping thing. Pathetic. But… your choice, your choice.”

  “Hey! If you’re my godfather, aren’t you supposed to be nicer to me?”

  “I am being nice. This is being nice. I’m saying there’s a lot about your life that you could change. Starting with cakes. You’re too thin, you should eat more. You like nice cakes. You bake them. You’re not stupid. What’s stopping you?”

  I felt a knot of rage in the pit of my stomach rise to my throat. You don’t understand, I thought but then I got an image of myself as the mopey moping thing that Joe had spoken about and the feeling of anger evaporated. I couldn’t think of a single reason not to do what he suggested. What he’d said had really got through to me. My choice. Sulk or smile. Sink or swim and I could add another, starve or cook. Yeah. I could do that. It would give me something to do as well. Yeah. I’d even write to Mrs Wilkins for her recipes. Yes. It would be a start at least. I might even bake something for grumpy old Aunt Esme.

  When Joe went over to his counter to serve a few more customers, I glanced over the recipes he’d given me. I might not have to write to Mrs Wilkins, I thought as I read over them. The ones he’d given me seemed easy enough.

  After a while Joe came back over.

  “See those two over there?” he asked.

  I glanced over at a man and woman who had come in and were sitting at the window table. She was tall and glamorous with long blonde hair and he had the look of a young handsome poet with a shoulder-length mane of wavy dark hair. Both had something about them, an energy that made you want to stare.

  “Yeah.”

  “Venus and Mercury. Remember what I was telling you about all the planets being here in human form?”

  Oh God, I thought. He’s gone off into Bonkerooney Land again and just as we were getting along so nicely and I was beginning to think that he was half sane. I decided it was best to humour him and go along with it.

  “Okay, yes,” I said. “Those two over there are Venus and Mercury?”

  Joe nodded. “It’s important that you understand. You have grasped that each sign has a ruling planet, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I pulled out the list he’d sent me that I’d printed with my horoscope. “Here’s the list.”

  “And you understand that the ruling planet is like a guardian.”

  “Yeah. Godfather, Diu Pater, guardian,” I said. “Yeah. Sort of, if you want to put it that way.”

  Joe’s expression was serious and he sighed. “No Danu. I think you are humouring me. Thinking crazy man. I don’t think you’re really getting it.”

  “Not getting what?”

  “That the guardians are here, on this planet.”

  I couldn’t hold it in any longer and I burst out laughing. “Sorry, sorry Joe. But it does sound mad. What you’re saying is that the aliens are amongst us. I mean, hello, Planet Earth to Jupiter. I think you’ve been watching the scifi channel too much.”

  Joe looked put out. “I don’t watch TV. I’m telling you the truth. I told you, you have to think big Danu.”

  “Okay. And how does anyone recognise these guardians then? Do they have, like, a secret handshake?”

  “Many don’t ever get to meet their guardian. Only those chosen to be Zodiac Girls. And even some of them choose to ignore it.”

  And I can see why, I thought.

  Joe looked dejected as if I’d hurt his feelings.

  “You’re serious, aren’t you Joe?”

  “Of course.”

  “And you’re my guardian?”

  “Yep. I’ve told you. Jupiter for
Sagittarius.”

  “You’re telling me that you’re the living manifestation of the planet Jupiter and that you run a deli.”

  He nodded. “That’s the truth, Danu.”

  I was determined not to laugh again as he looked so earnest and I didn’t want to tread on his feelings no matter how crazy they were. He was clearly harmless and very well meaning.

  “So… Okay. So what do the others do?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said Joe. “That couple over there. She’s Nessa. Manifestation of Venus. He’s Hermie. Manifestation of Mercury.”

  “Hermie for Hermes, messenger god?”

  “That’s right,” said Joe. “Yep. He’s my son, actually. Hermie or Mercury. Greeks called him Hermes, others call him Mercury. He works for a company called Mercury Communications as a motorbike messenger boy.”

  I was having a hard time holding it together. “And don’t tell me, Nessa runs the fish-and-chip shop.”

  Joe guffawed loudly causing a couple of people to look over. “No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. He had been teasing me. He didn’t believe any of it after all.

  “Neptune runs the chippie,” Joe continued. “I think you met him briefly. Old geezer with the white beard? Can be a bit of a grump.”

  Oh bat poo. Joe really did believe what he was saying. Poor man, I thought, clearly A1 bonkers.

  “Okaaaaay,” I said. “So Neptune runs the chippie. Um… let’s pick another from the list. Here. Aquarius ruled by Uranus. So what does Uranus do?”

  “Uri. You met him. Runs the magic shop.”

  Wow, Joe may be from Bonkerooney Land but he has a vivid imagination, I thought.

  I glanced back at my list. “And Pluto rules Scorpio. So Pluto?”

  “Interior designer,” replied Joe. “Stylist. Does makeovers. Transformations, that sort of thing.”

  “Saturn?”

  “Ah Saturn. The great taskmaster. Teaches you some major lessons in life does Saturn. He’s a headmaster. Dr Cronus.”

  “Moon?”

  “Oh I’ll let you find out that for yourself,” said Joe. “In fact, if I remember your chart right, you have an encounter with her coming soon.”

  “Marvellous,” I said as I got up to go. “Can’t wait.”