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The Strange Case of Ms. Casspaw:
Six, Ms. Casspaw becomes a Falcon:
March 18, 2002:
This is not part of my philosophy series:
I hope most of you will remember the stories I have written about
my neighbor, Ms. Casspaw. If not, I invite you to read them. I
have put them in our archives. Look for "The Strange Case
of Ms. Casspaw." Now I have another episode to relate.
Yesterday evening I was out in our backyard tending our plum tree.
These old fashioned Stanley plums tend to get out of hand quickly
if ignored. They not only branch out wildly with sap dripping
branches, they also like to put up suckers all over the yard.
If Mrs. Gaffer did not love the plums so much, I would not bother
with the thing.
I was just finishing up when I looked up and noticed Ms. Casspaw
stepping out onto her deck. She had a broom in her hand and she
was glancing up at the sky. Then she looked over at me and burst
out into wild laughter. I immediately realized why. I must have
looked utterly ridiculous. When I saw her glancing skyward, I
had a sudden vision of Ms. Casspaw aloft on a broom. My jaw dropped
to a point where it threatened to unhinge and my eyes were as
large as fried eggs.
My poor neighbor laughed so hard that she had to sit down on a
deck chair. For my part, I felt the perfect fool. With an active
mind like mine, it is quite easy to make completely false assumptions
and conclusions from the slimmest of evidence. That is exactly
what I had done. Of course, Ms. Casspaw had simply come out to
sweep her deck. She also did the same thing that I and many other
folks do when we step outdoors. She glanced up at the sky. My
goofy mind combined the broom and the glance upward to draw a
truly bizarre conclusion.
Ms. Casspaw finally recovered enough control to motion me over.
I went shamefacedly over to sit on the step near her. Embarrassed
as I was, I was not about to miss an opportunity to hear about
her latest adventures. I was planning to stop by later in the
evening anyway, so this opportunity was more than welcome. She
had entertained an unusual group of men since we had last spoke.
That was the time when Mr. Robert and his friends had made a rather
odoriferous litter mess in Mr. Casspaw's car. I had some catching
up to do.
Even though it was at my expense, her delighted laughter was a
treat to my eyes. It was not just her eyes which crinkled and
twinkled. It seemed that her whole being was involved in the exercise.
I don't believe I have ever seen another woman with more vital
energy. This was a wonderful thing in contrast to her difficult
times when fortune seemed to be her adversary.
With red face, I said, "I feel the perfect fool, Ms. Casspaw."
"Did you think I was about to take flight?" she asked
with a grin.
"I fear the thought did cross my mind when I saw the broom,"
I confessed. "Sometimes my imagination does get out of hand,"
"With all you have learned about me, your reaction was not
totally afield," she laughed, "But the fact is, witches
do not use brooms for flying."
Again, I came to a hasty conclusion.
"Then witches actually can fly?" I blurted.
"I have been told that it is possible, but not particularly
useful," she replied.
"Not useful?" I asked with surprise.
"Apparently not," smiled Ms. Casspaw. "I am told
it takes entirely too much energy to be practical."
"Ah ha, then the laws of physics still apply," I guessed.
"To be sure, Mr. Gaffer, even to witches."
I must have looked a bit relieved at that, for Ms. Casspaw laughed
with delight.
"No, Mr. Gaffer," she continued. "I am not about
to fly away on a broom, but I must tell you, I did become a Falcon."
Again my mouth popped open. If I keep doing that, I may have to
get it re-hinged. Finally, I snapped it closed and blurted, "A
Falcon?"
Again she burst out laughing. Then she paused.
"Oh, Mr. Gaffer, I am sorry," she said. "I've just
got a bit of the devil in me today. I'm teasing you now. I just
could not help myself."
I realized then that Ms. Casspaw had made another transformation.
She had managed to rediscovered her sense of humor and playfulness.
Though the teasing was at my expense, I couldn't have been more
pleased.
"I'm delighted to be your cat's paw, Ms. Casspaw," I
countered.
That little bit of doggerel earned me her best smile yet.
"Now, please tell me about becoming a Falcon," I urged.
"I am planning to do that, Mr. Gaffer," she promise.
"But. first, sit down in the shade while I go in and fix
us some refreshments."
I took a seat at her deck table and waited. In a moment she returned
with two glasses. Mine had three olives as I expected. The olives
were a little thing, but her remembering was not. One of the things
I admire about Ms. Casspaw is her caring attention to detail.
"Now then," she said, sitting down beside me. "Did
you notice my visitors last evening?"
"To be sure," I relied. "A group of gentlemen visited
you."
"What you don't know is that they were Falcons," she
added.
"Oh!" I said. "Let me guess. Some kind of a fraternal
order?"
"Quite right, Mr. Gaffer, but more than that."
"How so?" I prompted.
They are really an order of wizards," she replied. "The
International Fraternal Order of Falcons is just an organizational
cover."
I was flabbergasted. "They are all wizards?" I queried.
"They were until recently," she replied. "Now they
have had to expand."
"And, that's how you came in?"
"Just so, Mr. Gaffer. It seems they needed my help."
"Did you become a wizard then, instead of becoming a witch?"
"Not really, I just joined the order of Falcons."
"Why?" I wondered. "Tell me about it."
"Well," said Ms. Casspaw, "They have had a problem
recently. It is just a part of a larger problem many normal people
are facing now. I don't think I have told you much about wizards.
They are different that witches. Witches are, of course, all women.
that part of the mythology is factual. The other half of that
is that all wizards are men. Wizards are, in fact, the male counterpart
of witches."
"Goodness," I interjected. "I thought the male
equivalent of a witch was a warlock."
"Right, Mr. Gaffer," she responded. "That is common
mythology, but quite incorrect I am told. It is not even certain
that there is such a thing as a warlock. If they exist, they are
beings of the underworld. They are not of earthly origin.
"The truth is, there are witches and wizards, human women
and human men. In most cases, except for sex, we are very similar.
We are simply humans who have managed to develop our latent talents."
"So, by definition, you cannot be a wizard," I concluded.
"Quite right, Mr. Gaffer, but I can be a Falcon," she
grinned, "and that's what I am."
I knew I did not have to push her. I leaned forward and gave her
my full attention.
"It seems the order has had a problem lately with some ladies.
Some of the local ladies discovered that the local Falcons seemed
to be an exclusively male order. Of course they wanted to spoil
that. They began a legal action to force the order to admit women.
The wizards believed that they could have won any court battle,
but were somewhat concerned about the resources it would require.
"That was just one concern. They were even more concerned
about the risk of having the real nature of the order accidentally
exposed. You know Mr. Gaffer, some people if they find out what
we are can very dangerous. Some of the fraternity have been driven
out of their homes and ostracized. Sometimes they have even been
murdered. This can also happen to wizards. That's what they really
feared.
"Then they had an excellent idea. They came to the Reverend
Sister Bernice with it. She is kind of an elder of the fraternity
as the most respected witch in North America. They asked her if
some of us might like to help them by become Falcons, so she put
out the word.
"Mr Robert stopped by to inform me, last week. It seemed
like a fun way to learn, so I asked him to offer my services to
the local order. They sent a wizard over a few days ago. You probably
didn't notice him. He looked like a door to door solicitor. Since
I was recommended I was able to join the order at that time."
"Remarkable," I said. "So you are really just a
token female member."
"In a way, Mr. Gaffer, but I don't mind. I'm guessing that
the Woman's Poetry and Literary Society will need the same kind
of help someday."
"Let me guess," This Woman's Poetry and Literary Society
is a cover for the gatherings of witches?"
"Indeed, Mr. Gaffer."
"And, are you a member yet?"
"Not quite yet," she replied. "with the help of
the recruiting coven, I am about to perform a series of experiments
to determine my aptitude area. Once I know that, I have been invited
and I will join the Society."
"How about the wizards? did your membership achieve their
purpose?" I asked.
"After a while it did," she laughed. "It took some
doing. The ladies were determined."
"What did you do?" I queried.
"The upshot was, these women were all invited to a get acquainted
meeting which was totally staged. I was there along with several
of the regular witches who had joined for this purpose. On the
surface, we pretended to extol the virtues of the order and our
pleasure in being members. In fact we were rude and boorish to
an extreme.
"It was rather difficult for me. I had to tell some very
vulgar and sexist jokes and develop a raucous style of laughter.
I had to behave crudely and be very pushy. I even managed to belch
and pass some gas during the dinner. Yes, it was very, very difficult,
but it did drive them a way. They withdrew their legal suit. That's
why the wizards were here last evening. They came to thank me.
They even invited me to attend a real meeting."
"You must have been honored," I suggested.
"I was indeed."
Hard as I tried, I could not even picture the very feminine and
controlled Ms. Casspaw in the role of a raucous bore.
Then, with a sly grin, I asked, "Was it really all that difficult
for you, Ms. Casspaw?"
She could not help herself. She giggled and blushed.
"Actually, Mr. Gaffer, it was rather fun. It helped that
I really don't care for people like that. They see someone else
with something and they want to spoil it. They want power over
other people. they want to take power, but that never works. You
know, Mr. gaffer, these women just don't seem to understand that
power is not something you take or are given. It's something you
build inside of yourself. To be sure, my witch associates have
taught me that, as did Mr. Snooper."
"Amen," I responded.
I wanted to learn a great deal more about witches and wizards.
I could have sat and chatted with Ms. Casspaw much longer, but
I saw Mrs. Gaffers face in our window. I knew she was waiting
for a report so I took my leave.
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