Wrapping up the scheduled therapy session, Effie Thomas, a dark-haired woman in a pale purple pantsuit and low heels, saw her last patient of the day in her small corner office on Main Street, near where she once worked at a bookstore as a teen. She would never forget The Green Butterfly, Second-Hand Bookstore, which was located upstairs of a now vacant building. A charming alcove in the back held the most enchanting books, where she continued to learn and grow from reading the novels written by Dion Fortune. Though a wave of sadness passed through her from its absence, a smile etched onto her face from that memory. That time period seemed so long ago. She met so many interesting people there. If only her teen self could see how far she has come, she thought with a chuckle. That hard-headed, sometimes anxious girl probably wouldn't believe it.
Now 33, Euphemia, called Effie for short, ended up pursuing a career as a therapist. Her school guidance counselor would have been pleased. To be honest, it was hard work and long hours to keep the doors open, though she hoped that she was making a difference in the lives of others. Lately, it seemed like a lot of paperwork and stress. Maybe a vacation was in order so that she didn't get burned out. On the other hand, maybe she'd rather devote her life to something else. That idea nagged at her lately.
Her real love was writing. Unfortunately, book sales were few and far between. She didn't let that get her down, because that was where all of her love and joy went. Upon that thought, she lifted a slim volume off the metal shelf behind her desk. It was called Fortune's Girl. It was about how a girl with a chip on her shoulder had a spiritual awakening after reading Dion Fortune. Life felt so magickal and so full of potential back then. Maybe it could still feel that way. She just had to reconnect and begin new adventures.
Closing her office door, the woman with shoulder length hair returned to her desk, cleared her mind, and turned her attention to the beginning. As the green butterfly tattooed on her right shoulder attested, she emerged from a rocky start with a set of mental wings, which helped her rise above hardship and also make sense of it all. New levels might be ready to be confronted in time. Dion Fortune left her with a lot to contemplate and to put into action over a life-time. But for now, she settled back in her leather chair, sipped Bubble tea, and started reading the first book that she ever wrote herself, so that she could recapture that invisible thread and create new designs with it in the present. In fact, let us roll back time and experience it together. It went something like this:
My name is Effie Thomas. I'm 17 and a loner. Kids don't understand me. In fact, I don't think they even notice me, especially my crush, Ish Martin. Because of this, anxiety is getting the best of me. I'm restless and I don't know what to do. There must be more to life! For the moment, I'm stuck in this dull trigonometry class. If only a door would open and let me escape...! But to where?
Feeling lost, I stared out the tall school windows on this cold November day, focusing on a giant oak tree ^[1]^ far in the distance. Green mountain slopes rose up from behind it, adding to its beauty and power With bare and gnarled branches, it must have weathered many storms. I longed for such support in my life.
"Please, anchor me," I begged, at least for a moment.
I felt that if my mind could connect to it then perhaps I'd be stable and rooted, because I'm not. I'm floundering and not sure what I can cling to! And to make matters worse, my high school counselor is on my case, wanting to know why I haven't filled out any college applications yet. I'm actively trying to avoid her and delay my leap into adulthood for a little while longer. It is like an Abyss that I might never escape and probably even perish in.
Effie put the book down. Let us go back in time to see what really happened that day, as if transported back into the body of that younger self:
Effie stopped writing, laid down her pen, and closed the ragged green notebook, which contained her most private thoughts. No one needed to know her secrets, not even the shaggy-haired boy in jeans sitting by the window, which showcased gently rolling hills in the distance. Against her better judgment, she blushed just thinking about him, but Ish Martin didn't even know that she was alive. Handsome like a regal fairy from another realm, he didn't seem real at times. He wasn't aware of the power he had over her and over many of the other girls. But why would he notice the dark-haired student in the simple black skirt and Siouxsie and the Banshees T-shirt? Quiet and not trendy, she didn't fit in his world, where more popular kids fawned over his dreamy brown eyes and his perfectly chiseled features. And adding to her insecurity was the fact that she was adopted and not certain about her own identity. For all she knew, she might be a changeling. She wondered what he could possibly see in her?
While she was peeking at the boy in the red flannel shirt, who sat in the next row, he happened to glance her way, so Effie averted her gaze and stared at her worn leather boots, while at the same time hoping he didn't question her attention upon him. To calm her nerves, she stayed focused on the monotone teacher with unruly hair who wore a tweed jacket, but her eyes started to close out of boredom. Perhaps she'd memorize the integrals and derivatives of said functions better in her dreams. Luckily, the bell rang. That gave her the ability to escape. That appeared to be the theme of her life lately – run and hide.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Effie tossed her books into her brown backpack and rose with the other students, who were anxious to catch the bus home. As the impatient kids formed a line to fit out the door, Effie realized that Ish was right behind her and her heart beat faster. She simply pretended she didn't notice and headed into the maze-like hallway, where several kids elbowed their way through the chaos. A few congregated in corners to chat, but Effie kept her head down and marched forward. The boy in black Converse went in the other direction, so she let out a sigh of relief. Time to keep her head down and not be noticed.
Before long, she climbed onto the last bus in the row and headed toward the secluded second-floor condo situated by the Roaring Branch of the Walloomsac River, which nearly overflowed from recent rainfall. Fast moving water swirled over rocks, turning white, and then splashed upward as it hit the curves along its path. Something about the force of it invigorated her spirit. She admired the powerful nature scene before heading upstairs. The end unit was fairly modern and tidy. More than anything, it was home. Being a former foster kid, that meant everything.
Usually, she used this time after school to unwind and go on social media, but Mom had other plans for her today. Since her Grandma Hattie had to be rushed to the hospital the day before for chest pain, Mom decided that the two of them would help out by doing chores for her at her green-shuttered house in the quaint village of old-town Bennington. Moaning about it didn't help much, so she let her mother drag her there to the once stately house, which emerged from the treeline as their car neared. Each house sat on a large plot of manicured land. Despite the ravages of time, where paint peeled from the siding and also a few shingles had blown off from the arched roof, the place had a postcard charm about it.
"We'll only stay about an hour," her mother assured her, as they headed toward the long porch, where a few pots of yellow mums started to wither.
Rose Thomas pulled the key from under the mat and they entered the cramped foyer, which opened up to small, outdated rooms with hardwood floors and adorned with antique clawed furniture. Several chairs were upholstered with deep purple jacquard fabric, which Effie found regal. To add to the clutter, a large sewing machine sat in the corner of the room and a few knickknacks were scattered on cherrywood tables. Above them hung pictures of family members. It felt like a long ago era, and one could sense the sentimentality of the owner. To Effie's joy, her picture was included with the rest of the family.
As Rose opened the heavy curtains to let in light, Effie coughed from the mixture of dust and the overbearing smell of rose air freshener. Covering her nose, she put her backpack on a nearby decorative chair, wondering where to begin while her mother searched for cleaning supplies. Things felt odd here without her cheery grandmother around to offer cookies and a warm smile. She momentarily imagined her standing in the doorway with her wide grin. A sense of emptiness hit her when that didn't happen.
Feeling a touch of nostalgia, Effie put in her Earbuds to listen to music while gazing out the wide living room window at the sloping grassy yard, where she often played as a younger child. A few shade trees provided places to hide for Hide and Seek, as well as inside of the garage off to the side of the two-story house. A rush of fond memories made her a little emotional. Summers were magical here. Then to break the spell, the curly-haired, middle-aged woman with hands on her hips got her attention. Wearing a floral apron over her blue slacks and matching top, Rose was a no-nonsense person. Very traditional, she sometimes didn't seem to understand her divergent daughter, who started wearing mostly black clothes and keeping to herself. Her adoptive mother gave her "the look," as she called it, when she wasn't living up to her expectations.
"Come on, Effie," Rose sighed, "We're here to help out your grandma. Go ahead and start the laundry. The sooner we get done here, the sooner we can leave."
Rolling her eyes, the black-haired girl with black lipstick meandered to the white tiled bathroom down the hall and grabbed the pale pink hamper. A whiff of mildew caused her to scrunch up her nose. She held it out away from her body and quickly carried it past the kitchen, determined to get this chore over and done with as soon as possible. Under her mother's watchful eye, Effie descended the creaky and possibly unsafe wooden steps leading to the spooky basement. There, her boots carefully stepped over the chunky gravel leading toward an old washing machine by the back wall, which was made of gray rock, and where a small stream of water leaked from a cracked window up above. It was now raining hard outside, which added to the dreariness and the overall sense of neglect of the house. Perhaps, even despair.
Not having much choice, Effie decided to make the best of things. Singing along with a favorite tune to make the chores less toilsome, she added soap to the old washer, tossed the clothes in, and started it. At that very moment, she faintly heard a voice say her name. "Effie." Alarmed, she pulled an Earbud from her ear to listen and try to hear if someone was calling her. Nothing. She nervously looked around. The room was dark besides a single bulb hanging from the ceiling above her. Finding no one was there, she shrugged. Besides the washer filling up with trickling water, all else was silent, so it must have been the music. Of course, she always found this basement spooky anyway and never spent time in here alone. Now she knew why – possible ghosts. Being older now, she tried to dismiss that thought.
When done with her task, she quickly reached for the hamper to leave. But then she swore she heard it again. Someone said her full first name–"Euphemia." It sounded like a female voice. Not scary. It was soft. It didn't seem to be her mother's usual demanding voice, but it was too faint to hear it clearly. Certainly, her mother would have kept calling her until she answered. But all was silent once again. Weird! Thinking it was just her imagination this time, she dismissed it. Maybe the wind picked up outside. That made sense. After all, she wanted to be logical.
While looking around one last time to make sure no one was hiding in dark places, she noticed a lot of brown boxes in piles. Her grandmother hoarded things. Effie wondered what junk they might contain. On her right sat a Christmas tree and a few broken chairs. To her left, through a bunch of dangling cobwebs, sat a row of wooden cabinets. Curiosity got the best of her. Grandma loved her garden, so they probably contained her tools. That was her guess, but she couldn't resist a peek anyway.
After carefully checking for spiders, she used a nearby roll of wrapping paper to clear a pathway through the sticky webs. As if being called over there, Effie opened a creaky cabinet door and peered inside. Just what she expected, the dusty interior contained odds and ends such as work gloves, lightbulbs and tape. In another cabinet, she discovered a book that immediately caught her eye. Titled The Sea Priestess, there was a reclining Egyptian-looking woman pictured on the cover. Intrigued, she flipped through it. It must be old. Maybe it was valuable. There was another one beside it called Through the Gates of Death. She wasn't sure why these books were down here in a damp environment where they might get wet and moldy. It seemed an awful place to store them. Maybe all this stuff was forgotten about. Or maybe they were treasures Grandma didn't want anyone to see.
About to head upstairs, the thin girl paused. Deciding it best to bring the books with her, Effie grabbed them, shut the cabinet doors and returned to the first floor, where her mother was mopping the foyer. Not knowing where to put them, she momentarily set the books on her backpack. She'd find a place for them after the chores were done. Trying to be helpful and to avoid her mother's wrath, Effie fetched the vacuum while Rose set out to do a quick dusting of visible surfaces. All that was left for the day was to do the dishes. Easy enough.
Becoming more cheerful, Rose told her, "Grandma should get out of the hospital soon, so she'll be happy we helped her out and she can come home to a cleaner house."
"I'm glad to help," Effie assured her, while picking up a rag to dry a few plates, which pleased her mother.
"How about we stop and get a pizza on the way home?"
A smile curled on Effie's lips and Rose returned one of her own. Their relationship had always been close, but lately, things had been strained because of teenage rebellion and the normal testing of boundaries. When the older woman saw that Effie was making an effort, it soothed her worries and her mood lightened. After checking her watch, she rinsed another dish and passed it to her headstrong daughter, who hummed along to whatever music she was playing. Soon, they got the cleaning done and Rose gathered their things. A short time later, they locked up and hopped into the silver Honda parked in the driveway. Effie didn't realize that her mother must have grabbed the books until she noticed them next to her backpack on the floor of the passenger seat. Maybe if she was bored, she'd flip through them later and then return them on her next visit.
On their way home, while picking up a pepperoni pizza at the corner strip mall, Rose got a call on her cell phone. Effie wished she'd drive faster because her stomach growled. Smelling that melty cheese and tasty sauce only made it worse. She hoped the call wasn't going to be anything to delay getting home. The speed limit was only 35 to 40 miles an hour on these twisty Green Mountain backroads, and her mother never went above that speed, not even slightly.
Rose noted that the phone number was from her husband and said, "Hi, hon, I just got a pizza for dinner and I'll be home soon."
There was a pause and then Rose said, "Oh, you have news about Mom. I'm sure she will get released soon. What? Bad news? I guess she wants me to pick her up right now. It figures! No? Then what? Oh, okay, tell me when I get there."
Rose's voice had changed from bubbly to strained. She hung up, forced a smile and went to speak, but kept silent, noticing that Effie had her Earbuds in anyway. Effie didn't let her Mom know that she heard the one-sided conversation with her father, Bob Thomas. She tried not to think any bad thoughts. It was better not to assume anything. Instead, she let her mind wander over the background of jaw-dropping foliage, which blanketed the forests and mountains, until they entered a few suburban areas with the usual businesses such as Tractor Supply and Home Depot. Family farms were tucked in pockets near them. As the saying goes, there were more cows in Vermont than people.
When they got to the small condo complex behind a shopping district, her somber father waited for them in the bright yellow kitchen, where Rose set the pizza down on the glass table and Effie rushed to get three plates. She could almost taste that garlicky crust. Then she sensed that something was wrong. Her gut sank and she froze.
Rose smiled, but it faded when she saw the gray-haired man's forlorn expression. Effie saw that too.
"What is it?"
"Come, here," Bob said, taking confused Rose into his large arms.
Bursting into tears, the woman with soft brown eyes guessed what he had to tell her and he confirmed it. He told them the news that Grandma Hattie didn't make it. Rose almost collapsed from the shock, but Bob caught her and helped her to a dining chair. The pale woman trembled and stared forward as if trying to make sense of the news. Bob put a hand on her shoulder and bowed his head.
Grandma Hattie had been an eccentric, but loving woman. Loud and silly, she made Effie laugh and smile. Around her, she felt safe and seen. Now she was gone. Tears streamed down her face. It didn't seem possible that she was gone. Her dad tried to console them, but neither mother or daughter wanted to hear it. They had to work through the shock. Rose eventually passed the pizza around, but the excitement for it had waned.
Unable to eat much, Effie ran to her room at the end of the hall and cried. She hugged her stuffed animals, which covered her bed, as she thought about her grandmother, who gave her warm hugs and smelled of honeysuckle lotion. It didn't seem possible that she'd never see her again. She realized that she must be in denial. It wouldn't get any easier from here on out. But she hoped her grandmother watched over her and that gave her a bright spot to cling to.
Later that night, Effie retreated to her bedroom once again after her shower, which did some good and helped her relax. Wearing a black robe over pink pajamas, she didn't feel like watching TV or going online. Sleeping didn't seem an option either. Then she suddenly remembered the strange books and decided to take a peek at them. Touching them made her feel connected to her grandmother at that moment. Maybe they had been cherished. Running her fingers along the faded covers, she contemplated why her Grandma read books like these. Maybe they'd offer her something too. Deep down, she wondered if her Grandma somehow led her to them. If so, she was eager to find out why.
"I hope you are near me," Effie whispered. "I miss you."
Upon that thought, her dark eyes scanned the oak dresser which held a lamp and a jewelry box beside it, and then her attention drifted to the tidy desk in front of a narrow window with filmy curtains. It was as if she expected to see a figure standing there on the royal blue rug before her twin bed, covered with a white and blue bedspread, which her mother had picked out. Posters of goth bands on the wall showed that she tried to make the room more her own, even if her particular taste was rarely taken into consideration. Maybe Rose just didn't realize that Effie was growing up and would like to have a say in those things now. The dark-haired girl wanted her room to be an expression of who she was becoming. Whatever that might be.
Hugging one of the books against her chest, Effie needed them now more than ever. She first chose to read the book called Through the Gates of Death (note – sometimes labeled The Book of the Dead) and felt comforted as the days went by. Working through the sense of loss as well as her fear surrounding death, she liked that this book offered her a glimpse into what death might be about. It also gave her a sense of hope and a lot to contemplate, so she jotted down ideas to refer back to. It felt like an active way to deal with the loss.
Communicating with the dead was conveyed as a possibility, so Effie tried to say something to her grandmother, in case she was there, but it felt awkward. She searched each direction, hoping to find a sign that her grandmother visited her. Nothing. She felt a little silly, but tried anyway.
"I don't know if you are here, Grandma, but I love and miss you. Can you hear me?"
Because Effie didn't know if her grandmother's spirit was present, she imagined her as clearly as possible. In her mind's eye, she pictured her Grandma standing by her bed with her usual pixie hair-cut and her bright cheer. Wearing beige slacks and a blue top, the recreated memory even contained Hattie's favorite scarf around her neck as well as pearl earrings in her ears. With a tear in her eye, Effie silently told her how much she meant to her and that she will try to be happy again. Then she let the image go and felt a sense of peace. In these starlight hours, Effie found a particular quote that impacted her and she wrote it in her notebook:
"Uninstructed by the Mysteries, our lives are bounded by the horror of birth and the terror of death. How great is the gift of the guarded wisdom which reveals the road of evolving life stretching before our feet and robs the Unseen of its shadows." - Through the Gates of Death
Those words gave Effie food for thought and helped disperse some of the darkness bearing down on her. The discovery of this book helped her cope with the deep loss as well as provided tools to eventually come to terms with her grief. Though she thought she was through the cycle of it, she had a setback a few days later. Almost falling into a depression, she returned to the book for insight. The following words aided her during her low moments. It was as if a hand gripped her shoulder and comforted her.
"It is a great mistake, nay, a blasphemy, to think of our loved ones as dead, or to associate them with the dust that is returning to the earth whence it came. We should think of the vital mind, the everliving and aspiring spirit, going up and on with its evolution and calling us to comradeship in that great adventure. It is for this reason that, from the esoteric standpoint, cremation is so much better than burial, for it frees not only the soul of the dead, but the soul of the living. We cannot cling to a handful of dust flying in the wind as we can to a body committed to the ground, returning slowly to Mother Earth."–Through the Gates of Death
Thanks, Dion. I needed to read that.
During this time, her grandmother had been cremated and a small memorial service was held. Effie stayed mostly to herself, just watching the familiar faces as well as several strangers mourn her loved one. When alone, she lit a candle for her and tried to find peace inside. After a couple more days of contemplation and journal writing, Effie emerged from her despair once again. She kept the books where she could see them, and it was as if a warm hand would squeeze her shoulder whenever her eyes settled upon them. With new insight, she wrote:
Dion Fortune made me understand that I needed to let my Grandma go. I knew she'd still watch over me. That gave me strength.
Because DF's book helped me so much, I sought the other book of hers, which might also aid me. From a sense of abandonment at birth, I have so much inner pain and confusion. I wondered if "The Sea Priestess" might occupy my thoughts for a bit. Besides homework, I didn't have much to read at the moment, so I put aside time to explore this one. I needed hope. I'm sure I'd find what I need once again from her.
I curiously took out the book, settled at my desk, and soon was whisked away on a strange flight into the tantalizing world of the arcane. In this book, I met Wilfred, whose job as an estate agent led him to meet a mysterious woman who captivated him. Interestingly, she called herself Morgan Le Fay and she recreated the spiritual rites of Atlantis, communing with the moon at the seaside and bringing Wilfred to some kind of state of spiritual awakening. Their work took place at a house on a hill overlooking the sea on the Somerset coast. Doing some research, I wondered if it was possibly Brean Down (from a guess on a map with its natural pier and dramatic cliffs), and following the line to the sacred land of Glastonbury Tor. Here, in Morgan's hands, he realizes that life has more to offer than he knew. Though life dealt him a lot of wrongs, something better awaited him. Yes, that is such a message that I needed! My life was still full of untapped potential. Maybe I could help create its design into a beautiful tapestry of ups and downs as well as the fruits from both. It would help, though, if I had someone like Morgan to guide me, but I wasn't so lucky.
As with the other one, this book resonated with Effie, as well as Wilfred's desperate love for the powerful Morgan. She knew a thing or two about that with Ish. Too bad I'm not some beautiful priestess. Why am I not good enough? Unrequited love hurts. She wanted to be loved or at least meet someone on a spiritual level. The intimacy between the characters had been deep, even if not physical.
Pausing from reading, Effie placed the book on her lap and grabbed her journal. With moonlight streaming through her window, she wrote:
The Sea Priestess ensnared me. Dion Fortune's words coursed through me, almost vibrating to life on some other plane that I couldn't quite reach. It is a tale about a mysterious woman named Vivien le Fay Morgan, who believes herself to be a reincarnation of Morgan Le Fay. Once she finds a partner, she works with Moon Mysteries for healing. And I found Wilfred's love for Morgan both heartbreaking and enchanting. My own neglected longings filled me, yet there was no way to reach the higher realm that called to me. Have you left me no help or insight, Morgan? I only have a door that I cannot enter. It is if I'm provided a window to glean some truths, and for now, I am thankful for the view. But I want more. It is as if I'm seeing what might await me. Please. Tell me what to do!
Though I'm trying to build a way through, hopelessness floods me at times. Will I ever come to my awakening? I don't even know where to start. I fear I'll see all of this possibility and yet it will be closed off from me. It makes me doubt myself and that fault would destroy me. Somehow I have been given this invisible string and I refuse to let it go. I'm squeezing it tightly, not willing to give up.
What good is an awakening when I'm just a teen with school and parental issues. I'm presently worried about passing my math test and finishing an upcoming English report. Besides that, my world is centered in this childhood room with posters of my favorite bands and a closet full of mostly black clothes. I assume a hard exterior, but I also secretly like the color pink and my stuffed animals. Don't tell anyone.
Besides my pile of school books, Dion's books give me a glimpse into a world I never fathomed existed. How can I possibly enter more into her secret world? And would I be welcomed there? All I know is that it calls to me, makes me feel alive and loved. Where are you Morgan Le Fay? How can I learn the Mysteries for real? Deep down, I know she won't let me down. I'm waiting to discover more. I'll be searching....
With nothing else to do, Effie mentally retreated into herself for a while to think about her life so far and then recorded her favorite quotes from The Sea Priestess into her notebook:
"Now as I have said before, I was on rather intimate terms with the moon, and when I saw my old friend appear, I forgot my new one and fell silent and stared at her; and as always when I communed with the moon, I became aware of the invisible side of nature."
That evening, feeling inspired, Effie put on a dark hoodie and went out into the moonlight for a stroll in the clean mountain air. Maybe she could find this "invisible side of nature." With stars above like giant fireflies, the blackness of night appealed to her. It was as if she started to see things in a new way. Breath-taking vistas awaited her around every bend. Leaves turned red, yellow and orange these days. Though familiar, the path she chose felt more alive to her. From the trail through tall trees and over gray rocks, she made her way as if to a deeper land she was trying to attune to. Not an experienced hiker, she kept near the bottom of the hilly terrain, where she could hear the coursing river with its watery roar. There, she tingled from the energy and her spirit soured for the first time in recent memory.
With almost a full moon above, the pale girl bathed in its glow, fascinated by the stars whose names she didn't yet know. Likewise, they didn't know hers or realize how she longed to reach them. She thought about Morgan Le Fay, who was as mysterious and unreachable as the Moon above. She wished she'd meet someone like that. But how?
"Help me understand," the teen in the plaid jumper and hoodie whispered. She realized that she needed to learn how to hear. Maybe she needed inner ears to do that. This new adventure would take new skills and a deeper understanding. But for now, she felt that her steps were nearing that invisible door and that appeased her.
When she got back home, she laid across her bed and wrote:
I want magick in my life: The warmth and crackle of the flames; the swirl of smoky, yet fragrant incense; the intonation of ancient words with their solemn sounds on my tongue, as well as a background of mystery and excitement to spur me on. In this way, I want to touch the world around me and have it touch me back. And perhaps it will. We'll soon find out.