THE WISE WOMAN
A young girl, must be around seventeen or eighteen, stands shivering outside a tiny cottage at the edge of town. She rubs her icy hands together, trying to warm them with her breath, darting uncertain glances around. She cant bring herself to go in. There are never any streetlights in this part of the village, and the buildings disappear into the gloom of the oncoming night. Somewhere, a dogs barking echoes, branches groan as the wind picks up. Its frightfully eerie.
Come in then, if youre here! An elderly woman, thin as a rake, peers out at Emily with sharp eyes. However did she pop up? Want to know your future, Id guess Trying to snare a boy, are you? The old woman tsks disapprovingly. And expecting, too oh, too soon, far too soon, love
How do you know that? Emily swallows hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat.
The old woman gives a wry smile, beckoning her inside. What else would you girls come to me for? Silly, innocent things ah, youth
Grab an armful of wood there, will you? Im not as spry as I was and mind your feet, she instructs, and Emily does as shes told, following behind.
Inside, the place is oddly roomy compared to the outside. The tiny hallway is lined floor to ceiling with bundles of drying herbs, their tangy scent overwhelming. Emily covers her mouth, feeling slightly queasy.
Right then what is it you want, dear? The old woman, breathing heavily, sits on the bench.
A love spell Emily drops her gaze to the floor. He left me, she sobs, ran off with Lucy
There, there, the old woman mutters, gathering dried herbs into her wrinkled hands. Youll have your charm. Hell trail after you like a puppy after its mother. Worship the ground you walk on. Emily gives a watery smile. Hell be achingly jealous, never let you out of his sight. Youll forget about school, wont set foot out to work. Every couple of years, a new baby all lovely, clever children, each and every one. You know that, do you?
Emilys eyes flick nervously around, but she nods.
But then hell start with the temper. These charms, they plant bitterness in the heart hell hit you, and more often too. Hell start to drink, to wander off looking for distractions You understand?
Emily presses herself back against the door, hands shaking, silent.
Happiness will slip by you. The one youre meant for. The right one wouldve cherished you, carried you in his arms. Well, shall we get on with it then? She rubs her hands together.
Wait, just What about that happiness? Whats it like for me? Emily blurts.
Well, what do you think? Tall, broad-shouldered. Strong and steadfast. But hes not for you anymore, is he So, shall we start?
Please can I think about it for a bit?
Whats there to think about? the old woman grumbles. You wouldnt have come if you hadnt made up your mind
No, Ill go now Maybe later Ill come back Emily stammers.
The door bangs shut. The old woman smiles to herself. Youth. Foolishness. Blind hope. If only someone had straightened her out in her own day Oh, someones knocking yet again
Coming back in, are you?
No sorry What about the baby? My parents will never allow it
Wont allow it? The old woman shoots a knowing glance at her expensive-looking coat and the trendy boots. They love you, dont they? Emily nods. Of course they do theyll grumble, but theyll love the baby too Might scold you a bit at first
What will my child be like? Emily cradles her belly and drops her eyes again.
The best, loveliest, cleverest baby your greatest joy.
And school? Will I manage?
Theres time to finish the year Take a breakwhats it called?
A gap year, Emily whispers.
Thats it youll get by, just wait and see Off you go, now.
Thank youyou really are a wise woman! A proper one! And so kind! Emily laughs and dashes out, shutting the door behind her.
God bless you, murmurs the old woman, tracing a cross on the door with her thin hand.
* * *
Wise woman! Oh, what nonsense, Granny May chuckles to herself. Me? A wise woman? She puts the kettle on, muttering under her breath. The tea smells wonderful, steeped with mint, thyme, and chamomile. Bitter, but wholesome. As if! Always a broken-hearted girl showing up at my door And the baby? Well, every mother believes her own is the most precious and shell finish school, get herself a husband, be just fine!
Granny May sips her tea. Wise woman! Oh, mercy! She shakes her head. They make it up and then believe it themselves And these herbs, anyone can fetch and brew a few. Keeps you healthy and helps you sleep, thats allStill, as Granny May glances toward the door, she feels the faintest hum in the airthe lingering hope of a girl too young and too brave for her own good. The kettle gurgles and the fire flickers warm gold against the gathering dusk.
She takes another sip, a small, secret smile settling in her wrinkles. Still, perhaps theres a pinch of wisdom left in me yet, she murmurs to the silent room.
Outside, in the curling shadows, Emilys laughter carries faint and bright through the wind, a fresh leaf turned, a life spinning forward in the dark, unknown but fiercely her own.
And within the little cottage, the old woman hums a soft tune, the sort sung to babies and broken hearts, and for a long moment, the world feels a little wiser, and a little more kind.
