Uneducated

“I find that pagan symbol you’re wearing highly offensive!”

I sighed at this unwanted intrusion into my inspection of Barnes & Nobles’ newest releases and glanced down briefly at the Runic symbol "Urz" hanging from a cord around my neck.

Glancing back up, my eyes met those of the young man offended by my choice of jewelry. He was wearing the stark black pants and crisp white shirt of one of the various religious sects who come routinely knocking on my door trying to redeem my eternal soul.

“It’s Runic actually,” I said with an edge, staring into those watery, baby blue eyes of his. “It’s part of the Nordic alphabet, and if it offends you so much, quit staring at my breasts and you won’t see it.”

I actually felt a twinge of pity for the guy as his face turned the bright, shiny red of a Coca-Cola can. He mumbled something incoherent and stumbled away from the “New Releases” display. Poor guy had probably never heard the word “breast” outside of Sunday school where he was taught that, unless they were your mother’s, they were weapons of soul-destruction.

I sighed, slightly disgusted with myself. Here had been the perfect opportunity to try and enlighten a misinformed individual as to the true nature of neo-pagan religions.

I could have told him that, no, pagans do not dance naked with the devil under the light of the full moon. We may dance naked at times, but not with the devil! No, we don’t make potions with eye of newt and horn of toad. Somebody hands me an eye of anything and they’re going to get slapped with it!

There were numerous, real, misconceptions that I could have tried to dispel. Instead, I let myself get defensive and sent the poor guy back to his clergy still thinking that pagans are the whores of Satan.

Fortunately for me, I’m not one to dwell on my own social gaffes for long. Shaking myself slightly, I went back to browsing the “New Releases”. Some Christians are a lost cause anyway. Not all, just some. This guy looked like one of them.

Besides, I probably did the guy a small favor. He’s got the word “breast” to look up on the internet now. A new word in his vocabulary…and one for which the search engines will provide numerous examples.

***************

“Ahem.”

I was wallowing so deeply in my disappointment over Larry Millett’s failure to release his next Sherlock Holmes book this week that the first, second, and probably third, discreet cough behind me failed to register. It was the light tap on my shoulder that finally drew my attention away from the selection of mystery books and brought me face to face with the easily offended zealot from a few weeks ago; the man I had dubbed “Breast Boy”.

“Oh for the love of Mother Earth,” I thought. “What now?” I just stared at him, waiting for his next statement of my offensiveness to mankind.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his black pants. He was wearing the same outfit as last time, or a clone of it, and I kind of wondered if he had ripped off a Catholic school outfitter. I had to admit though, having a closet full of the same thing must make it easy to dress in the morning.

I waited, watching him stand there with his hands buried in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. So far, this was starting off differently than our last meeting, but I wasn’t sure what was coming.

“I wanted to apologize to you. What I said and how I said it was rude and unforgivable.”

At first, I just stood there and blinked at him a few times. I certainly hadn’t expected a heartfelt apology, and Goddess forgive me, but all I could think was, "Damn. Guess I can’t call him 'Breast Boy' anymore."

But I did eventually snap out of my shock as I watched him. I looked at him standing there in what I termed a standard issue Catholic school uniform, staring at me with those earnest blue eyes and I suddenly found myself unable to hold onto my self-righteous offended-ness any longer. As a matter of fact, I was feeling pretty terrible suddenly for my own part in the fiasco of a few weeks ago.

“I owe you an apology too,” I said. “There was no need for me to say what I said to you about my breasts. I’m sorry.”

Darn. Made the poor guy blush again. His eyes drifted downward and he blushed even further. His eyes moved away, but then back down again, I’m guessing to read the “Witch Parking ONLY. All Others Will Be Toad!” statement splashed across my completely unimpressive A-cups.

I smiled a little as his eyes fought some sort of battle between looking at my breasts, and looking at the nearest shelf. He was starting to turn this really neat shade of purple, and I decided to say something before the combination of his eye aerobics and the color change caused him to pass out.

“Hon, they’re harmless unless you touch them, so look all you want and get it out of your system so we can move on here!”

Oops. That caused him to turn three more shades of purple. But at least his eyes were able to focus on mine without jumping all over the place. “Touch them?” he sounded scared, but I tend to have that effect on people sometimes.

I laughed when I answered him. “Yeah. If you touch them, I’ll have to break your fingers.”

The corners of his mouth turned up a little, and the purple started to slowly fade from his face, leaving him looking all normal and pale. He also quit looking around for the nearest exit and instead, drew a hand out of his pocket, wiped it quickly on his pants, and held it out to me.

“Is it ok if we start with an introduction first?” The corners of his mouth lifted again in that almost smile as he spoke. “My name is Joshua.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he had a biblical name. I had almost figured he would. I grasped his hand in my own though and shook it lightly.

“I’m Lisa.”

“It’s nice to meet you Lisa.” He hesitated for a second, “You’re very outspoken.”

I laughed. “What a polite way of putting it! I'll tell you what it really is though. My mind has no edit function. Any thoughts running around in there usually trip out of my mouth without being filtered.” I finally let go of his hand. “It can be somewhat embarrassing at times actually.”

He shoved his hand back in his pocket and then nodded toward my shirt. “Are you? A witch I mean?”

I took a deep breath. Oh man. He asked “The Question.”

“Yes, I am,” I said. I looked straight at him and wondered if my answer was going to spark another strange tirade from him. Instead though, he looked thoughtful.

“Do you have a group? A coven?” he asked instead, which after our first meeting, kind of surprised me. He had gotten so worked up over a pendant, but now seemed willing to accept the fact that I was a Pagan after all? It was weird, but I figured I’d go with it for the moment. What the heck, maybe I could enlighten someone after all.

I shook my head. “No, I’m solitary.”

“Solitary?” He asked, leaning a shoulder against one of the shelves. It looked like he was settling in for a long discussion here. I took another deep breath and let it out. I was actually getting a little nervous about this conversation, and rethinking my decision to just “go with it”. The last one I had with someone went so very wrong. Maybe it'd be easier with a total stranger. After all, if it got too intense for either of us, Barnes & Noble had numerous exits to utilize.

“It means that I practice by myself. I don’t belong to a coven. I never have actually. Life might be a little easier at times if I did.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but at that point, another man dressed in the “uniform” appeared in the aisle. He was older and looked like cracking a smile might actually shatter his face. He glanced at me, but spoke to Joshua.

“There you are Joshua. We have to leave now, or we’ll be late,” he said to the younger man. I thought his voice was surprisingly gentle for such a stern looking man.

“Ok Matthias. By the way, this is Lisa,” he said, motioning towards me.

Matthias spared me another glance and a brief nod, the light shining off his smooth, hairless head nearly blinding me. He placed a thick hand on Joshua’s shoulder and steered him toward the end of the aisle. Joshua shrugged as they passed by me, but before he rounded the corner he looked back for a second.

“It was nice meeting you Lisa. I look forward to finishing this discussion someday.” He then waved and disappeared.

I let out a sigh. For my part, I wasn’t looking forward to continuing the discussion and was half hoping that we’d never bump into each other again. I’ve never been good at teaching, or even answering questions! I was actually glad that Scowling Matthias had appeared when he did.

On the other hand though, part of me was whole-heartedly hoping that I’d see him again. He was an interesting paradox of repression and curiosity. At least, that’s the reason I gave myself for wanting to bump into him.

I decided to distract myself from avenues of thought that I had no wish to travel by checking out the new Sci-Fi/Fantasy releases. Nothing like a new Fantasy book to get your mind off of weird encounters of the religious kind! I pushed the encounter out of my mind and went blithely off to the more than adequate Sci-Fi section of Barnes & Noble.

Wizards, Dragons, and Magic! Oh My!

***************

I always wondered why Barnes & Noble had put the shelves with all of the New Age books facing the shelves with all of the Bibles. I received an answer of sorts as I was sitting on the floor between the two shelves thumbing through a shiny new copy of Margot Adler’s “Drawing Down the Moon”. My own copy was well used and falling apart and I was contemplating the purchase of a new one when I felt an object brush past my ear and land with a heavy thump against my leg.

I looked down and saw the unbent spine of a brand new King James Bible staring up at me. There was probably some sadistic Barnes & Noble aisle planner laughing his ass off in the grave because I was once again about to be hounded about my religion by a Bible toting weirdo. At least I had finally learned where the term “Bible Thumper” came from.

I looked up, my eyes following the trajectory the Bible had taken to my leg, and came nearly eye to eye with my favorite Bible toting weirdo, Joshua.

“Jesus,” I said. “Not you again.” Ok, so I wasn’t feeling friendly after nearly having my ear shorn off by an airborne Bible. Not to mention the fact that my leg would probably be bruised.

“Joshua, remember?” he said, that strange, almost smile of his appearing on his face. He hunkered down next to me and picked up the Bible. “This right here,” he said, holding it out to me, “is the only book you’ll ever need in life. You can find the answer to any question within its pages.”

I rolled my eyes. "You know, I've had hemorrhoids that were less of a pain in the ass than you are! Look, Josh -”

"Joshua," he interrupted.

"Look, Joshua," I said. “I’m flattered that you’re so concerned about my spiritual well-being, but I don’t need you to save my soul or anything. My soul is just fine.” I scooted around to face him. “Don’t you ever just start a conversation with ‘Hi’? And why are you so fixated on me and my religious state?"

His cheeks turned a little pink, but he was on a subject and didn’t seem to want to stray. “The only path to salvation,” he said as he sat on the floor in front of me, twisting his legs in front of him, “is to accept Jesus Christ as your Saviour. Have you done that?”

I groaned, but, if he wanted to talk religion then we’d talk religion. I know I could have just left, but I had to admit that this was an interesting situation. How many times in my life would I actually get to debate the finer points of religion without fearing that someone was going to start screaming “Burn The Witch!” Of course, the conversation was just beginning. Screams could be forthcoming before the end of it.

“I don’t think it’s the man himself you have to accept in order to find ‘salvation’", I said. "I think it’s His message.”

He shook his head, and leaned back against the shelf full of Bibles, crossing his arms over his white covered chest. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

I leaned forward and warmed to my subject. “I believe that if we all follow those golden rules that Jesus preached about: Love; Mercy; Forgiveness; Tolerance; etc., then everyone has a chance at a spot in Heaven. You can find those golden rules in almost every religion in the world.” Of course, I believed in reincarnation, so my soul's spot in Heaven was a moot point at this time. But hey, he started the whole salvation thing!

He shook his head again and leaned forward, hefting the Bible. “It says right here in Acts 4:12 – ‘Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.’ That name is Jesus Christ, Lisa, and He is the only way into Heaven.” He lowered the Bible and looked at me, that suddenly annoying near smile reappearing. Was he afraid to smile?

I should have expected him to pull out the Bible quotes. You can’t debate the Bible without quoting it I guess. “You didn’t mention the fact that Jesus says that it’s not only ‘Christians’ who can enter the kingdom of Heaven.”

“Where in the world does he mention that?”

“Matthew 8:10-12 – ‘Assuredly I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel! And I say to you that many will come from east and west, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the sons of the kingdom will be cast out into outer darkness. There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’” I finished the quote and smiled at the utterly shocked look on his smoothly shaven face. I think he was surprised that I could actually quote the Bible.

“He said it after running into a Roman Pagan. What it means is, not only will there be non-Christians sitting alongside Christians in Heaven, but there will be Christians sitting alongside non-Christians in Hell.”

He ran a hand through his light brown hair, disturbing its orderly appearance. He looked at me and did something completely unexpected. He laughed. The guy who’s afraid to smile let loose with the heartiest laugh I’ve ever heard from someone who looked like a stuffed shirt. It rang off the shelves around us and lit up his eyes. “Oh Lisa,” he said, still laughing, “I don’t even know how to respond to that! Matthais is the teacher, not me." His hand dropped back into his lap. "For some reason, I never expected you to be able to quote the Bible to me.”

It was my turn to blush, and I’m not even sure why I was. I looked at him, a full blown smile finally gracing his face, baby blue eyes shining as they looked at me, and I suddenly had an urge to haul ass out of there as fast as possible. I couldn’t explain it, but all I wanted to do was run.

“I’ll tell you what,” I stammered. “I’ll buy that,” I said, pointing to the Bible, not caring that I already owned three, “if you’ll agree to buy a book of my choosing.” I reached out my hand for the Bible.

He slowly handed it over to me, the remnants of his laughter still showing in his eyes. “What book would you like me to buy?”

I searched the shelves behind me, looking for the book I had spotted sitting unobtrusively on the shelf earlier. My strange sense of panic was subsiding, and I was slowly getting a hold of myself again. I had no idea what caused it, but I still wouldn’t mind vacating the premises as fast as humanly possible. I found the book and snatched it from the shelf, holding it out for Joshua to take.

He looked at it like it was Eve’s snake. “The Truth About Witchcraft?” he asked, looking wary and not just a little scared. “I don’t know,” he hesitated. “I’m not sure if I should read this.”

“Look,” I said, “it’s information material, not conversion material. I found, and still find, Scott Cunningham’s books to be a low impact introduction to the Wiccan religion.” I held it out further. “The last time we talked, you looked interested in learning about me and my religion. Well, here’s a chance to learn about the religion.” He looked at me for a long moment, and I smiled. “Come on,” I urged. “No harm ever came from reading a book.”

He laughed again and reached out for the book. “You’ve obviously never seen ‘The Mummy’ then.” For some reason, I thought he didn’t do anything but sit home and memorize Bible passages. I must have looked shocked or something because he stopped laughing and asked, “What?”

“For some reason, I didn’t think you were allowed to watch movies like that.”

“Of course I can watch movies like that!” he said, his eyes going wide with surprise. “Why wouldn’t I be able to watch movies like ‘The Mummy’?”

I think I had the grace to blush. “I just thought…” I didn’t know what to say. “Hey, I thought that because you’re Christian you’re a dud?” just didn’t seem like a good thing to blurt out. My thoughts though, must have been on my face because he leaned forward and looked at me.

“You have as many misconceptions about Christians it seems, as I have about Pagans.” He lifted Cunningham’s book up, “I’ll buy this, and even read it, on two conditions. One, you still buy the Bible, and two, you agree to come to church with me one Sunday.”

I knew it! I should have seen the church invitation coming, but instead, got blindsided. Two can play at this one though. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll go to church with you, but only after you attend my Samhain celebration.”

“What is Samhain?” he asked, and I suddenly realized that I had thrown out a “technical” term and he wouldn’t know it by that name.

“Halloween, the Pagan new year, and the night we honor our ancestors and deceased loved ones. It’s a few weeks away, and if you come to my house for my Ritual, I’ll go to church with you the following Sunday.” I was sure he wouldn’t accept. He was scared enough of a little book. Why would he subject himself to a full-blown Pagan ritual? I figured I’d cleared myself of repeated pressure to attend church services.

I figured wrong, because after a long moment of staring at me and serious contemplation, he said, “Ok, I’ll go. But I’m not participating.”

If I hadn’t been sitting on the floor already, I would have fallen onto it. Here’s a man who only a couple of months ago, berated a pendant I was wearing, and now he’s coming to a Pagan ritual? What the hell was I thinking in inviting him? He must have really wanted my butt in his church!

I could only nod, and he smiled, though it was a serious one. “How do I get hold of you?” Oh shit. My rash brain hadn’t considered this. I dug through my purse though, and pulled out an old receipt. Writing my number on it, I handed it to him.

He smiled as he took it. “Great. I’ll be calling you soon then. Take care, Lisa.” With that, he got up and headed off with his book.

I sat there, my mind reeling for a few minutes, and finally focused clearly on two things.

I had agreed to set foot in a church.

And I invited a strange man to come to my house on Halloween to watch as I performed a religious, and for me, very personal ritual.

Oh shit.

***************

“Lisa! Hey, Lisa! Wait up!”

As if I was sprinting! I was loaded down with bags from Stop & Shop and was trying valiantly to make it to my car without dropping any of them. A task that was made all the harder by my trying to look over my shoulder at whomever was calling for me to wait up. I heard the “slap-slapping” of shoes on the pavement behind me and slowed my snail’s pace even further.

Suddenly, a panting man came into view over my left shoulder, and to my surprise, I smiled. “Hey Josh!” Great Goddess above! Did I just smile and say “Hey!” to him? I nearly dropped one of the bags resting precariously in my arms.

“Joshua,” he said, smiling and correcting my usage of his name again, as he grabbed the bag from me. “Let me help you with these.”

I hadn’t seen him since our last encounter at Barnes & Noble, though he and I had been playing phone tag since then. I never expected to see him here, a few days before Halloween.

He grabbed another bag from me and fell in beside me. “I’m glad I ran into you,” he said. “I was wondering about Friday. Do I need to bring anything? I know I’m not participating or anything, but…” he trailed off.

I shook my head. “No, unless you want to bring a token of someone you loved who is now gone. Other than that, just bring your appetite.”

He nodded as we reached my car. I passed another bag to him and opened the trunk. “I was wondering,” he said, his forehead furrowing a little, “well, maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

I looked at him as I finished loading the last bag into the trunk. “Go ahead and ask. Don’t be worried about asking me questions. I’ll try not to bite you or anything.” I smiled, trying to be encouraging. He looked like he was holding one whopper of a question behind those pretty blue eyes.

“Well, I read that book you gave me.”

I nodded. “Ok.”

“Well, I wanted to know more about what to expect Friday night.” He hesitated and his cheeks started to turn red. I was beginning to get really curious about this. I slammed the trunk lid down and leaned back against the car, watching as he drew lines with his toe in the parking lot grit.

“Hon,” I said, “just spit it out. It’s going to start raining soon and I’m sure you want to get inside somewhere before it does. I know that I want to.” I did too. I was wearing white, and it always seems to rain when I wear white. Some weather God must have it in for me.

He took a deep breath, turned another shade of red, and focused very intently on the artistic drawing his shoe was doing in the parking lot. “Well, I rented “The Craft” the other night, to get an idea on rituals and stuff because I didn’t want to bother you during it by asking you a bunch of questions. Quite honestly, Lisa, the movie scared me.”

I bit my lip and was very proud of myself for not laughing. He was obviously bothered by what he had seen, and that bothered me. “The Craft”, though a fun little movie, was definitely NOT one I would have recommended to a die-hard Christian for a quick introduction into what Witchcraft is really like. On the other hand though, I was happy that he had taken the initiative to try and learn about it on his own, though I would have preferred that he had asked me his questions instead of renting that movie.

I took a deep breath to steady myself because I was still on the verge of laughing, and reached out to lay a hand lightly on his arm. When he finally looked at me, his cheeks still a bright pink, I smiled gently and said, “Joshua, I can see where that movie would scare you. But Witchcraft isn’t like that at all. Especially in my house! My ritual on Friday won’t be anything like the rituals you saw in that movie.”

He relaxed a little as I talked. “So, you don’t do stuff like cast spells and call on weird Gods?”

I took another deep breath and looked to the grey-covered sky, asking silently for help and clarity. I didn’t want to screw this answer up. I knew that if I did screw it up, all the progress we’ve made since our first run-in would be for nothing.

“Joshua, I’m not going to lie to you. I worship a God and a Goddess. I haven’t assigned them names, or picked a pair from the many pantheons out there, but I honor them both. And though not all Witches cast spells, I have, and still do when I feel a need too.”

He stiffened again, his forehead furrowing, drawing his brows down low over his yes. “Spells? Like love spells?”

I shook my head “no”. “It’s very rare that you’ll find a Witch casting love spells like the one you saw in the movie. Witches believe in the free will of people and don’t do anything to mess with that. Casting a love spell on someone would do just that – mess with that person’s free will. There’s a saying in most Pagan religions that basically says - ‘As long as it harms no one, do what you will.’ I believe in that saying fully.”

“So what kind of spells have you cast then?” he asked, his brows still drawn down over his eyes, and forehead furrowed. He still wasn't comfortable about the spell issue. I didn’t blame him really. It’s a hard concept for someone raised Christian to come to terms with. It took me two years to come to terms with it when I first began studying and practicing Witchcraft.

“Well,” I said. “I’ve cast money spells.” I’ve cast quite a few of them actually. A starving artist really is that half the time; starving. “And I’ve cast spells for healing. Mostly on myself though. I won’t cast a healing spell for anyone else unless I have that person’s full permission. Even a healing spell can be manipulative.”

He nodded and relaxed a bit. “What’s going to happen then, on Friday night?”

I should have thought to have him buy a book on Samhain. Oh well. “Halloween is when the God dies and journeys to his resting place until his rebirth at Yule, which is right at Christmas. It’s also a night to honor the lost loved ones in your life.” I paused in my paraphrased description of what Samhain is, to make sure he was still with me. Samhain is so much more, but I wasn’t going to sit here in the near rain to explain it all to him. He’d get a glimpse on Friday if he still came. He nodded and I continued.

“What I’m planning to do on Friday is first, honor the God’s passing, and, since it is a time of symbolic death, a small ritual releasing some of my more negative traits so that they can be reborn into positive ones. I am also going to do a small ritual honoring my loved ones who are no longer with me.” Well, it was going to be a larger ritual until I rashly invited a strange Christian to share the evening with me. But that didn’t matter. Obviously, I was meant to share this evening with him.

I looked at him as he stared intently at me, those blue eyes of his searching my toxic waste colored green ones and felt slightly disconcerted. That strange sense of panic that had overtaken me at our last encounter was returning.

“Look Joshua,” I said, taking a deep breath to slow my rapid heartbeat, “if you’re really that uncomfortable with this, then please, don’t come. Believe me, I understand, and I won’t think badly of you if you decide to stay home.”

He stared at me for a moment longer before grinning. My blood started roaring around in my ears, and I could feel my face growing warm. I hated that. I hated the fact that I didn’t know why I was reacting like this to a stupid grin even more. His grin grew into a smile as my face turned even hotter, and he said, “You’re not getting out of going to church that easily, Lisa.”

Damn. I forgot I had to go to church. But if that’s what he wanted to think was the reason for my flushed face and kind offer, I wasn’t going to argue with him. I was beginning to have an ugly suspicion about the origins of my flushed face. “Fine,” I said. “So you’re still coming then?”

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Well, almost anything,” he smiled again. “I need directions to your house though.”

Oh yeah. That’d be helpful. I briefly entertained the thought of giving him directions to the landfill instead, but I took the rumble of thunder overhead as a message that said “you got yourself into this, finish it” and thought better of my landfill plan. “Ok. You know where those fake Tudor-style apartments are on Centerville?”

“Royal Park or something like that?”

“Royal Crest, yes, those are it. I live in building 24 apartment #10.” I loved my apartment. It was a one bedroom, but the bedroom had a turret! The turret was actually my Sacred Space. I did most of my meditations and magical work in there. We’d be using the living/dining room for Friday though. “It’s past the double fish ponds. You’ll have to park and walk around the back of the building. The intercom and buzzer system is in there. My buzzer says ‘Tannen’ on it.”

“Joshua!” someone yelled from the direction he had originally come from. I turned my head and saw a small group of people waving to him from in front of Stop & Shop. “Joshua, are you coming?” That from a blond girl built like Britney Spears.

“I’ll be right there, Connie,” he called back and then looked at me again. I was still looking at the busty beauty, who was actually checking me out as well. My face suddenly got hot again and I crossed my arms over my barely there chest, conscious all of a sudden of the fact that I had no breasts to speak of, and that she could be used as a flotation device. I was surprised that I was bothered by this and distracted myself by looking down at Josh’s shoes.

“What time should I get there?” he asked, drawing my attention back up to his face.

“About six o’clock,” I stammered, feeling somewhat downhearted. What did I expect from this encounter really? I had groceries to put away and preparations to make. I was being an idiot and I knew it. “That’s when dinner will start. You don’t have too, but if you want too, bring something to remember anyone you’ve lost.”

He nodded and smiled softly, “Building 24 and be there at six o’clock. Got it. I’ll definitely see you Friday then, Lisa. I actually look forward to it.” He smiled one more time then jogged off to join “Busty” and the gang.

I watched him go, his last words ringing in my ears. I was dreading it…and looking forward to it a lot. Great.

“Goddess please,” I prayed, “please get me through this.”




At this time, the story is unfinished. Don't miss Joshua's experience at Lisa's Halloween ritual! Coming soon! KS 2/14/04