No & Other Love Stories

Devotion

it is all ways summer at the sanctuary –

or at least that is how it feels to me then –

summer bewitching my body –

low gold sun in my eyes & sweetshit scent of the cows in my nose & pollenblow catch in my throat –

i am new at the sanctuary & i dont know any thing yet –

though even when i am not new father fleck still says i do not know any thing but that is a different matter –

because i dont know any thing i cant be trusted with any thing –

so when its my turn to catch the fish we go together –

not me & father fleck obviously he is too busy with holy things good pure important holy things too busy to do actual work like catching fish & bringing in cows & picking peas & plucking chickens & baking bread & sweeping floors & making candles & collecting honey etcetera –

that is work for girls to make them holier –

father fleck & other men being already holy i suppose –

there at the sanctuary the girls are me & jennet issobel beatrice matilda agnes gilleis lizabet petronella jehan hanna isidore oh & euphemia thats every one i think –

but the only one who matters to me is –

the only one is –

actually i think i dont want to say her name –

the feel of her name in my mouth is –

it is –

i am sorry –

i can say a lot of things –

but even now that i can not say –

i can not tell you about her but i can tell you about the fish –

& how it is that day with the line & the string & the hook & the worms –

watching her bait the hook with the sad worm writhing & twisting its body saying no no no –

& i know that is silly & fanciful & i know that worms dont say any thing so i also dont say any thing –

i just put my worm on my hook –

& think about how some thing must suffer so that another thing can have comfort –

we sit there on the bank the grass is sweet & soft around us –

the feel of her beside me is sweet & soft also –

the sun hot on our heads the birds singing prayers the world laid out so nice just for us –

& i would gladly let my self drift into a dream i would gladly lie down on the soft sweet grass by the soft sweet her but i dont because if i am in dreams then i am not here & i want to be here with her –

there is a tug on my string just as there is a tug on hers & together we haul in our fish –

in that river there is tench dace roach bream etcetera so i dont know what my line has caught & as i pull it in i see the shimmer silver star sun under the water & know it is dace & i see another shimmer & know she has caught one too –

two small little dace enough for the suppers of four girls –

or two girls if we are allowed to eat the amounts we want which of course we are not –

it being better for a girl to be all ways a little hungry –

we haul in our fish & watch them flipflap & gispgasp on the grass –

we watch as their struggles start to slow & they start to give up –

& suddenly –

lets throw them back she says –

but then there will be nothing for supper i say except for peas & bread –

meat not being allowed that day because god says so –

well she says no one ever died from having just peas & bread did they –

& isnt it nicer –

isnt it better –

isnt it a strange sort of power –

to throw back the fish & watch them swim away –

yes i say –

if she had said let us make shoes of fish or let us build a house of fish or let us worship fish like they are god my reply would have been the same –

yes i say yes –

& so we do it –

we yank the hook from the fish & we throw them back into the water –

& we watch them swim away together –

scales shimmering in the dappling sun like some thing magical & secret –

///

i watch her writhe in her bed –

her back arching skin gleaming mouth open flipflap gispgasp –

i am not meant to watch i am only meant to clean the sweat from her brow & the vomit from her chin & the blood from her sheets –

she is not the first to be possessed by demons in this way & she wont be the last –

we girls are so open & leaky & full of holes & passages that we are easily entered by wickedness –

we have all been suffered this & we have all cleaned up the effects of each others suffering –

& it is never easy –

if i am honest it is easier to be the one possessed & demonridden because then at least you are the one making the mess & not the one cleaning it –

though when its her i dont mind the cleaning & i just want her to be comfortable until father fleck can get the demon out of her which it seems will take several days & so i am very attentive with my cloths & my buckets & i make sure the water is all ways fresh from the well & i pay attention to how much she vomits after father fleck forces his hands into her mouth to pull out the demon & i make sure i get enough bone broth into her to make up for what she has lost & i would like it if we could kill a calf or a lamb so i could take a little blood & give it to her to make up for what she has lost from the many small cuts & wounds on her arms & legs from the vigours of the exorcism –

though i know that bone broth will not make up for it –

i know that even all my blood would not make up for it –

though i would give it if i could –

well maybe not all of it because it is healthful to let some blood out but you mustnt take it all out & so i do need to keep some for myself –

but i do think i would have enough to share with her –

i wait until father fleck goes to his bed & i am alone with her & then i do a thing that my mother did for me when i was a child –

she made an ointment from poplar buds & black poppy & mandrake & henbane & vinegar & rancid oil –

but i dont have most of those things here at the sanctuary as i dont have the poison garden that my mother & i grew i only have the poppy & the oil so i make an ointment of them & i hope this is enough when i smear it across from one of her temples to the other & place a little too on her tongue –

& after that she sleeps for a while –

& i lie beside her & hold my hand to her throat to feel the throb there –

the next morning i am awake before father fleck returns & i wipe her face clean & i do think the ointment has done its work –

father fleck leans right over her in her bed so i can not see quite what he is doing –

but i can tell from the smells & the sounds it is the vomit & the blood just the same as yesterday –

i lurk in the door way with my clean water & my secret ointment & my heart in my mouth –

he pushes what looks like both his hands into her throat & pulls out a fist full of some thing that he throws into the slop bucket & i cant see any thing at all but that is why father fleck is holy & i am only a girl because he can see things that i can not –

he says as he goes out of the room with out looking back she is cleansed now –

lying there in her vomit & her blood & her tears she is cleansed –

father fleck leaves & it is just me & her i spend a long time with clean water & a clean cloth –

i do not know the hour because when we girls are beset by demons & have to be exorcised we are excused the usual church for matins & prime & terce & sext & none & vespers & compline & vigils –

so while the others are at their prayers & their cleansing i am doing a different sort of praying –

i only know it is late –

i only know i am tired –

i only know that finally she can rest –

& so i can too –

i lie down on my bed next to hers –

& i look at her sleeping face haloed holy in the candle light –

& i fall asleep in the glow of her –

///

there are things that i know –

that i know i am not supposed to know –

such as nettle can be pounded into plugs to stop a bloody nose –

such as black cohosh can bring on a mothers milk –

such as witch hazel can heal the tear in a womans most private place after the baby has come out –

such as foxglove will slow the heart & can be used to sleep a husband or a child no longer needed –

this last one is the one that people most often came to me & my mother to get –

not just foxglove but also narcissus & oleander & may apple & aconite & several other tinctures made from certain mushrooms & moulds –

but now i am here at the sanctuary i can not know these things –

even when i know they could help the other girls here with certain pains & ailments or even help the fathers who most of all must not know what i know –

which is quite fine as because i am a girl i am expected to know very little except catching fish & bringing in cows & picking peas & plucking chickens & baking bread & sweeping floors & making candles & collecting honey & making perfumes from flowers & dying cloth from plants & making boiled pigs face with cabbage in a particularly delicious way which now i think about it is actually quite a lot of things to know –

but any way these things are all i must know & no more –

no matter who asks –

the answer is no –

even if it is her & she needs me & i can help her –

the answer must be no –

///

all we girls are gathered –

me & jennet issobel beatrice matilda agnes gilleis lizabet petronella jehan hanna isidore oh & euphemia thats every one i think –

we are washing the sheets which is an unpleasant & lengthy task –

& father fleck says that is quite why we must do it because such girls as we need such tasks as this to make us holy –

or as holy as girls can be which as we all know is not very –

we are reddened & sweating & trying to think holy things –

& to distract us all she tells us about a mummer show that came to her village –

it was in the summer which is the time of dream bread –

where you are never sure whether the days food will give you strange visions or merely fill your belly –

some times in some years it does –

some times in some years it doesnt –

no one but god knows why –

she says she did have poppy seed bread that morning with her cup of mead & it was fortunate she had both of these as in summer some times there is no food to be had at all in that hungry time before the harvest –

which is when the mummer shows come through because they are hungry too & will perform any story that will lead to payment in food –

but she is sure this story was not from bread but was just as she saw it –

& i believe her because i know what it is to be hungry –

hungry for food & for stories & for the company of others & for colours & for sounds & for more more more –

even there at the sanctuary surrounded by my sisters & with the summer sun in my hair & so soon after we broke our fast i feel hungry in my belly & my eyes & my hands –

she tells us about the mummer show which was a story from the bible & so it was holy & healing to hear it –

adam & eve in the garden dressed in what looked like no thing at all –

but i think they must have been dressed in some thing they couldnt have been in front of every one in their bare skin so perhaps they had fleshings of white leather tight to their bodies so it looked like them selves that is all i can think & i suppose i do think on it slightly longer than i need to –

& she tells us up gobbled eve & the fruit –

& the fruit was some thing juicy & overripe so that its juice & wetness dripped & sprayed every where very messy very delicious its scent filling the air & making every one hungry & envious of eve in her wickedness –

& again i do think about that slightly longer than i need to –

& my belly & my eyes & my hands ache for the want of it –

& out came the devil & you knew it was the devil because he had –

he had –

& here she can not tell the story any more her cheeks go pink & her hands go up over her eyes & i can not she says i can not say the words –

what i say what did the devil have –

& all the other girls look at me but i dont care i want to know how you know a devil when you see one –

a prick she says he had a prick –

like from a needle or a pin i say & i am thinking of a bead of blood on a finger tip –

no she says a prick like a man has –

but not like a real man would have or at least i think not because it is so big it is the length of a thigh & as wide as it too & all carved of wood so it goes thunk thunk thunk as he walks –

& by the way as she is telling me this she is still hiding her face in her hands & i can see her cheeks redden bright as rose petals & she peeks out at me to see if my cheeks are red too & i think they are –

so i look at euphemia & she is primly squeezing the water from a sheet as if she cares not for a prick no matter how big or how wooden which i dont think is true –

any way the devil & his prick went thunk thunk thunk across the stage & he bent over & let out a fart so fast & so stinking it must have been a wonder of contraption it was smoke & flames issuing from his back side & the stink of bad eggs –

& i wonder how they did that how they kept the bad egg stink in side & let it out only when they wanted perhaps a jar of some kind such are the wonders that exist in the world –

& i want to hear more about the flesh & the fruit & even the fart but i dont want to ask in front of the other girls as they are already looking at me too much & i know that curiosity is not proper for a girl –

so jennet tells a story about a man she heard of who was a jester to a great lord in a stronghold –

& the jester was so tall & so thin it was like he was already dead & bones –

& he was such a strenuous dancer he wore out 300 pairs of shoes in a single year –

& though i dont say it out loud it seems clear to me that the man was a thief & a liar –

that he was selling the perfectly good shoes & his silly master was providing more & more –

but i do not tell the other girls this because they did not grow up lying & stealing & tricking & poisoning & i do not want them to know that i did –

& some how jennet stops telling her story about shoes & we go back to the one about the mummer show –

because i will let you into a secret & that is none of the girls –

thats me & jennet issobel beatrice matilda agnes gilleis lizabet petronella jehan hanna isidore oh & euphemia –

what ever we might say to father fleck if he were to ask –

none of us are as interested in stories about shoes as we are in stories about pricks –

///

the next day the sermon is witches –

father fleck hears all the news from the living & from the dead as he speaks to travellers who pass through here & so he knows many things –

he tells us about a boy who said his mother was hiding two demons on a sheepskin bed in a secret place inside the roots of the crab apple tree & that she feeds them milk every day from a black plate –

he tells us about a man who had seven goats & one summer they started producing blood instead of milk & also his wife was with child but at the same time also lusty & he said both things were caused by the midwife who was ugly & widowed & had once cursed him when he would not pay her after his wifes last baby came out dead –

he tells us about a girl who bewitched another girl with unnatural lusts & they did unnatural things together such as only a husband & wife must do together –

he tells us about a woman who was cursed by a pedlar selling ribbons that she would not buy & he cursed her by saying she should have a red hot spit pressed to her buttocks & the next day her rear end & private parts were in a most strange & wonderful state –

he tells us about white lambs & black cats & tiny silken rabbits sent to do witches bidding in those dangerous hours when it is not quite night & not quite day –

all those witches were sent to burn which is the only thing to be done with them really –

father fleck says we are fortunate indeed to be in this place –

we must stay here at the sanctuary where we are safe –

so many things out there in the world are ready to curse us or hurt us or make us bleed or fill us with devils –

& i bow my head to pray & i think well what about the devils that fill us here –

what about the hurts we have here –

what about the blood that comes from us here –

but i suppose those things are different –

& i am still thinking about the girl & the girl & their unnatural marriage –

& if neither one had a prick then how did they lie like a man & wife –

a whittled nub perhaps –

a handle smoothed over many years of palms –

& i open my eyes just a little & i look over to her hands as she prays beside me –

& i look at her fingers which are pale & long & graceful & i think about the feel of them on my skin the feel of them on me & in me –

& i close my eyes tight & i press my palms together hard because no i will not think of that any more no i can not –

no –

///

yes i whisper in her ear when she comes for me at night –

i know then my reply to her will all ways be the same –

yes i say yes –

together we creep from our beds & go bare foot out onto the dew wet grass by the river –

we lie there letting it soak us to the skin –

we look up at the sky & she tells me how the stars are candles affixed on a faraway dome like the church roof only much bigger & much further away –

we lie there & watch those faraway candles flicker like fish –

i think of one of father flecks sermons about the difference between a man & a woman & how that difference can never be changed & we are born a way & that is how we are for ever & a man is a man & a woman is a woman & woman is for man & that is the proper way of the world & any thing else is witchrotten & devilridden & filth to the core of it –

& under the candle lit sky she comes close to me –

she leans close to me as if for a kiss –

but she doesnt kiss me –

she bares her teeth –

breath hot & tongue sweet & incisors smooth as silk –

& she bites me –

bites the line of my jaw –

bites me stills me holds me tight & soft with her teeth the way a mother cat holds a kitten –

the way a wolf holds a rabbit –

her mouth a trap her mouth a home her mouth a night sky i could fall into –

i think of how father fleck said that men have a need of light but women can live in darkness –

& there under the night sky with her hands in my hands & her mouth on my skin i dont see why that is a bad thing –

& i think if this is darkness then i will live here in the night with her for ever –

///

now i am the one possessed –

i am the one writhing & bloody –

the demon beclouds me in such a way that i hardly can tell his desires apart from mine –

some times when she is in my head –

he i mean he i mean the demon –

i can feel him inside me in my head in my heart in my in my in my –

i run through the sanctuary to our dormitory where the fathers do not go & i tear all my clothing & rip at the clothing & flesh of such of my sisters as i can lay hands on –

i trample them underfoot i chew them cursing the hour when i take the vows –

cursing the fish & the pond & the worms & our mercy our weak stupid mercy –

all this is done with great violence & i think i am not free & i know not what i do –

i know well that i do not do this thing by my own will but i also know to my great confusion that the demon can not have this power over me if i am not in willing league with him so i am to blame for allowing him into me –

& she comes to me then in the dormitory –

i want more than any thing to hear her voice so i close my ears –

i want more than any thing to touch her so i clasp my hands –

she takes my chin in her hand & tips my face to look at her –

i force my face away i can not look i can not –

i glare at her feet though i want more than any thing to look at her face –

she reaches for me & i look at her hands & i expect them to shimmer like fish scales –

to gleam in the low light like a secret magical thing from the sea –

i dont know why –

but when i look at her hands they are not secret they are not magical they are only hands –

///

matilda dies of a fever –

petronella falls to a visiting monk after creeping at night to his bed & he is gone again on his travels long before she knows a baby is coming & it is a long time before any of us knows because petronella is already round about the middle & is secretive about her monthly blood & when father fleck finds out she has to leave & i dont know that she ever finds that visiting monk or if the baby comes out alive or if petronella is alive –

beatrice is missing from her bed one day & we are told she ran away –

it rains & i think it has been raining for a while –

& i see now that it is not all ways summer –

it only seems that way because today is the same as the day before & the day after –

the world is just the same thing over & over –

new girls come grissel marion alizon & they are no different than the old girls no different than me we all pick the peas & pluck the chickens & get possessed by demons & the world is women in the dark & men in the light –

& that is gods way & the way it should be as father fleck says & i should feel blessed for that –

because it wouldnt be good for it to be summer all ways –

summer is when we are hungriest & the bread tastes strange & makes us see what is not there & makes us dream in the day & makes us bite down on what is not good for us –

& makes us want –

& makes me want –

i can not want any thing –

i can not say any thing –

i can not know any thing –

& it is for the best –

i dont want to die of fever –

i dont want to be sent away –

i dont want to burn –

i only want –

i only want –

but theres no use in a girl wanting –

///

there are things i can not know –

but there are also things that others know & i dont –

such as every window is an eye –

every eye can see –

no thing is secret –

no thing is magical –

she is taken by a demon again & father fleck can not rid her of it –

she writhes & she cries & she bleeds & she calls for me –

she calls my name over & over & over & over –

i come with my cloths & my cool clean water & i never meet father flecks eye –

& he never looks at me any way but this time he does –

because in her fever in her fits in her halfdreaming she calls to me –

& she speaks of the things that we did together –

father fleck listens he hears it all he sees it all –

when we went to the river with our hooks & our bait –

when we went to the river with our stars & our bites –

there is no thing secret now there is no thing magical –

there are only unnatural lusts –

there are only unnatural things –

there is only the fire & our flesh upon it –

& father fleck turns to me then –

as she writhes & she bleeds & she calls –

& he says to me there is no demon controlling her tongue –

there is no demon in side her making her sick making her burn –

some thing comes to her at night & brings a curse upon her & it is not a demon & not a witch & not an incubus –

it is you –

yes i think but i dont say it –

she is in me as i am in her –

& he says to me did you know her sinful –

& he says to me did you lie with her evil –

& he says to me did you love her unholy –

i think of the fish we let go that day –

shimmering gleaming otherworldly –

& i know we didnt free it –

& i know it will just be caught tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow –

& it will die there gasping & writhing in the dirt –

but we gave it that day –

didnt we –

we gave it one more day to be free & that must count for some thing –

& he says to me do you love her –

do you –

do you –

no i say –

no –