Birgitta the Nun

Part 62 - The Microwave

Madeleine slipped out of the office and floated down the corridor with her new, ghostlike gait. She was pleased with her new freedom. Never before in her life had she been able to enjoy it so much. She now realized that freedom didn't cancel out safety, but that they went hand in hand - she was humble, yet her own master. How could it be she hadn't recognized this before?

She floated past the salon of the southern parts of the monastery, and came to a halt. A detail had caught her eye. She checked herself - reproached herself for her curiosity - but still backed up to have a look.

There, in her usual armchair, was Birgitta. She looked all warm and snug, in front of a good fire. In her lap lay a cat - a very black cat. She stroked it with the whole of her hand and the cat purred under the familiar weight.

Birgitta hardly noticed Madeleine as she joined her in the salon and took a seat in the heated sofa.

"How was your journey Birgitta?" Madeleine offered. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Not really," Birgitta replied. Her eyes were fixed on the fire and her hand continued to stroke the cat. "Traveling is a lot about throwing up, and very little about actually getting somewhere. I'm lucky I didn't start discussing my bowel movements with anyone—you indeed get intimate with the ones who join you on your journey. I found out a lot of things I didn't need to know—"

"Is that so," Madeleine replied, her curiosity satisfied. She didn't want to know more about the strange adventure. She changed the subject, "The thing is—I think I owe Charlie something."

"I know what you mean," Birgitta replied, her eyes still staring into the blazing fire, all mesmerized.

"Would it be possible to do something for her? She is of course very independent, and we shouldn't be bothering her, but she might be in need of something?"

"Yes, independent—" Birgitta drawled.

"So?"

"So what?"

"What does she want?"

"Who?"

"Charlie—" Madeleine clenched her jaws. She was already losing her newly established patience. She gripped the sofa with both hands, wrinkling the thick fabric between her fingers, and grumbled, "Charlie the wizard."

"Oh—the wizard," Birgitta tore her gaze from the fire. She turned to Madeleine, just now realizing she was there, and replied, "Send her a microwave."

"A microwave?"

"Yes, a machine. She'll be thrilled, I promise," Birgitta smiled. Then she sank back into her chair, and again turned to the fire. Her grin made her look somewhat stupid and Madeleine made no further attempt to pull some explanation from her.

"Alright—a microwave it is," Madeleine resorted. She stood, looked at Birgitta one last time, then left the salon to carry out her plan.

With no money in her pocket, she of course couldn't go buying the wizard a microwave. Instead, she stole into the kitchen when Petra was out, to find a decent thing in the corner of the countertop. She pulled the plug, wrapped it up, and sent it away with the first courier coming near the monastery.

However, Madeleine knew nothing about the owl or the nest. She simply used the first address she came upon - and the package was sent to Charlie's old house. No one was there to receive it. The courier banged the door of the silent house with great patience. But in vain. She scratched her head, and - not wanting to abandon her duty - simply placed the package on the porch. There, mission accomplished. It looked delivered enough. She stamped the top of the box with a cheerful 'proclaimed', and walked away with a clear conscience.

The lonely package took some beating by the autumn weather. It was drenched by the rain and dried by the sun intermittently. No one would come to claim it. The wizard had forgotten about her old home. She had especially disremembered all the traffic going on around the house. But this didn't stop people from coming and going. The rush-hour across the yard of the wizard continued. Oh, and they had patience, the visitors: they sat on the porch, explored the backyard, and even went so far as to peep through the windows - all without a glimpse of the wizard. But for a long time they persisted.

In the end, also the young lady - the student-like one - came to Charlie's house. The axe she had borrowed was long overdue and she needed to return it. She came bouncing in her truck and made a careful parking-spot out of the outermost corner of Charlie's yard. And so, with the engine still running, she went up to the porch and knocked on the door.

No one answered. She knocked some more, but the house stood dead-silent. She hesitated. A sorry expression spread over her face.

There was no back-up plan. The axe wasn't hers and she couldn't keep it. Of course, she could just leave it on the porch. No one would steal it - and its tough construction would resist any weather. But no, that wasn't right—that was no behavior of a good neighbor. She would have to find Charlie.

The thought of the undesirable task tired her. This would teach her not to ask any more favors. It was no part of her independent plan, to go around borrowing things. She sighed and took a seat on the porch, chin in hand, next to the sorry-looking package. They both looked like they had seen better days. She turned to inspect her company. The unsuccessful delivery next to her indeed seemed in need of some affection. Then, a thought went up to her: this was an excellent opportunity for her to repay Charlie—she would do the wizard a favor, and deliver the package.

She cut the engine to her truck off. The vehicle would be of no use where she was going. With the package under her arm and the axe in her hand, she set out on foot towards the woods. It was a no wild guess. An owl and a wizard were most likely to be staying in either a nest in the woods, or at a fancy casino. The woods were closer than any casino, hence, she began her quest there.