Of Lorenz Theory & Love

The Madwoman of Mykonos

24 The Madwoman of Mykonos

7 pm, Vera Manor Garden, She-Shed

"So, tell me again why you two are going to Mykonos and I'm cleaning up exploded crocodile instead of selling geodes to vegan yogis achieving enlightenment?" asked Mel testily.

"Celeste" both Macy and Harry spoke in unison.

"What now?" Mel inquired, knowing this would surely be interesting.

Macy's eyes met Harry's, and she responded in what she hoped was concise enough to satisfy all parties. "Harry and my great-great aunt Darcy were very much in love, back when he was Jimmy in the 1940s. It appears that Celeste removed all of Harry's memories pertaining to that and kept both of us in the dark. We're paying Celeste a visit to get some answers."

"That bitch," Mel exclaimed. "I knew I never liked her. And wow—that's definitely a lot to take in. Use all the time you need—and be safe, ok? I'll text Maggie and Jordan and fill them in. And I'll keep researching the merging techniques."

"Thanks sis, I owe you one," Macy responded, grateful that Mel clearly had her back.

7:50 pm/5:50 am, Residence of Elder Celeste, Mykonos, Greece

Harry decided it was quicker to orb directly to Celeste's flat in the tropical isles of Greece, and Macy agreed. They needed answers, and they needed them now.

They landed with a pop on Celeste's front door welcome mat. Macy looked around; it was not yet sunrise, but her eyes could make out the cosmopolitan cubic white architecture, the bright peacock blue shutters, and the smooth cobblestone walkways. The scent of pink Bougainvillea tree blossoms filled the air, and the echo of rushing waves created an atmosphere of utter serenity. Macy seemed surprised that Celeste chose this place to live, of anywhere on earth. And maybe, just a bit jealous too.

5:51 am, Residence of Elder Celeste, Mykonos, Greece

Harry and Macy knocked sharply on the cerulean blue door, once, twice, then—

The door opened, revealing Celeste in her usual dark robes, with the hint of a richly hued sea green blouse underneath, likely purchased from a local atoll boutique. She was clutching a transparent shot glass filled halfway to the top. "Ouzo," Celeste stated aloud, to Macy and Harry's questioning look. "Local drink, dry anise aperitif, other aliases include raki, arak, pastis and sambuca."

"It's 5:51 am, Celeste," Macy seemed perplexed. "Isn't it kind of early to be drinking?" Both Macy and Harry intended to angrily confront Celeste but were momentarily taken off guard.

Celeste waved her off as she opened the door further to let them in, responding, "It's 9 minutes to 5 pm in Maui, that's good enough for me." Harry and Macy exchanged quizzical glances.

5:55 am, Residence of Elder Celeste, Mykonos, Greece

The three retired to Celeste's living room, which was completely white from the ceiling fixtures down to the modern, curvy chairs and their spindly legs. Macy was silently surveying this surrealist landscape, wondering how it was possible for such a thorny tyrant to be allowed to own such fancy things and live so peacefully when so many other more-deserving witches could not. Once seated, Harry began asking about what Celeste knew of his past self, Jimmy, the Tessera Nightclub, "and Darcy," Macy interjected.

Celeste chuckled. "I knew this day would come," she casually remarked. "Don't look so shocked," she told the two, taking a delicate sip of what remained of her ouzo. "I just didn't think you would confront me before the crack of dawn—millennials these days—and I had to invite you in so you wouldn't wake the whole neighborhood. Though I doubt that would even be possible, as everyone here is over eighty years old and hard of hearing. Except for Adonis of course, but he has his own problems...keeps telling the local folk I'm off my rocker..." she trailed off.

"Why did you erase my memory of Darcy?" began Harry.

"The answer, of course, is quite simple—time loops! If I had you keep your memory, your very being would have ripped the fabric of time, and you might have ended up with a Flowers in the Attic situation if you weren't careful. Of course, that's the worst-case scenario—ending up with someone who's related to you, completely by accident."

"Wait—what?" Macy shrieked. "We're not related—are...we?" she and Harry turned toward each other, then back at Celeste.

"NO of course not!" snapped Celeste. "I was just saying, that's the worst-case magical scenario that memory wiping is supposed to fix. Honestly, I found Jimmy at Darcy's flat after she was killed by a war bomb per a soothsayer prophecy, and he was utterly distraught. This was a once-jovial man. I couldn't very well have him plunked back down in his own flat, a drunkard drowning his sorrows for an Azorian woman he knew for less than a month, buried a thousand miles away in Pico and a boy he wasn't supposed to rescue from the Sarcana—hic!" Celeste hiccupped rather loudly, her imbibement catching up with her. "If your memory wasn't wiped, people would talk! Magic could have been discovered by nonmagical folk—the mystical community would have been forever in shambles!" Harry grew visibly angry with each syllable she uttered.

6:20 am, Residence of Elder Celeste, Mykonos, Greece

"You. Ruined. MY. LIFE!" Harry roared. "I had a wife and a child I couldn't love, a career I couldn't appreciate, and I knew, I just knew, that someone was always missing in my life. My empathy quotient! You had NO right—" At this point, Macy had to physically hold him back from throwing a punch at Celeste, who sat calmly, whirling her index finger over the rim of her shot glass, completely oblivious to the tension threatening to spill over.

"Well, technically, as Elder, I did," Celeste responded casually. "Look, Harry. I saw what you had with Darcy, having only known her for mere weeks. You did an exemplary job guarding her, which made me realize you'd make the perfect Whitelighter. You saved Matias from being weaponized by the Sarcana, even when you easily could have run the opposite direction. I figured, I'd give you two a second chance more or less." Celeste motioned in Macy's general direction. "The way I see things, you two really should be thanking me," and she sat back in her white ergonomic seat, rather self-satisfied with the way things were.

"Thanking you?" Harry exclaimed. "Of all the bloody..." he could be heard mumbling a string of British curse words, the likes of which Macy had never known existed. (A random thought popped into her head that she should reuse some of those in the bedroom sometime, perhaps with the black velvet blindfold she found in the attic.)

7 am, Residence of Elder Celeste, Mykonos, Greece

"Celeste, would you give us a moment?" Macy pulled Harry aside into a corner of the airy, pristine room.

"Harry, she's not worth it!" Macy hissed. "Don't let her get to you, she's drunk and probably doesn't know half of what she's saying! Let's hear her out before she sobers up, we could learn a thing or two about our past." Harry took a couple of deep breaths, met her eyes, and nodded, as they returned to their seats facing Celeste.

"And—and what of Matias, the boy?" Harry tried to sound nonchalant.

Celeste replied, with a wave of her hand. "Oh, him. He was taken in by his aunts, Dora and Della of Epicenter Pico No. 22; the sisters are long since dead. Still lives there, so I've heard. Down-to-earth guy. Sells his herbs at the market every Saturday with his pal Morgana." Macy's eyes widened in shock.

"You—you knew?" she whispered. "Dora and Della were my great-great aunts!"

"Only because the terms of the agreement didn't, of course include me," Celeste answered, as her eyes began to close; she was beginning to doze off a bit. "Matias can't have contact with Harry until he turns 80, otherwise, he dies. That's why I'm perfectly at ease telling you all of this."

"How old is Matias now?"

"He turns 80 tomorrow." With that, Celeste's head slumped to her right, and she began snoring loudly.

Harry and Macy knew that was their cue to depart, which they did, quietly, without making so much as a peep.