"Willow's Tail" 21

“Okay, try this one,” Martha said hopefully, pouring the tea into the tasting cup in front of Perfidia.

"You know I love tea but Martha my taste buds are getting drowned and I don’t think I can be objective anymore."

Martha’s eyes lost their sparkle and she sat down with a resigned sigh. “I’m never going to match that blend and I’ve never been so unsure of my tea blends before.”

“It’s that havoc they played on you; it messed with your confidence.”

“I think you may be right.”

“The only way to fight havoc is with havoc.”

“No; I cannot win by cheating.”

“Oh well…that’s very noble,” Perfidia said as she leaned back in her chair, then as if it were an afterthought, which it wasn’t, she added, “but you’re satisfied to lose by havoc?”

Martha’s eyes narrowed at the challenge in Perfidia’s words. They had employed unethical tactics to try to make her lose, so why shouldn’t she battle it with like weapons? The thought had merit but it still went against all that Martha believed in.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled feeling trapped between the two different decisions.

“What if it wasn’t your havoc?”

Martha’s was intrigued. “Go on.”

“I do have potions that can be effective.”

“Yes, I know.”

“So a small drop of one of my potions in the tea you blend would make it potently pleasing.”

Martha wanted to allow it; she did, if just to best that shadowed annoyance, but she couldn’t. She gave Perfidia a grateful smile and shook her head. “I’ll just have to try to find the best blend here and take my chances on it.”

Perfidia wanted to champion her idea for using a potion but saw the effort would be pointless. Martha was determined to win on her own merit, again noble, but up against unfair havoc it was foolish.

“Okay then let me sip this one and see if it’s a winner.”

“Thank you,” Martha smiled gratefully.

Willow slunk into the room and watched Perfidia take a taste from a small cup and couldn’t contain the cat laugh that escaped at the comical face the red headed human made when she swallowed.

“I can see it’s not perfect yet,” Martha offered taking the cup from Perfidia’s near death grip and dumping the contents in the sink.

Perfidia chocked on the last drops that slid down her throat but managed to choke out her opinion. “Martha, this one is far from your perfect blends and in fact, I think they're getting worse as you go.”

Martha’s face crumbled at the critique. “I don’t understand; I’ve always known what leaves blended together but now, no combination is right.”

“I think you may be under a havoc too, did you feel anything in that room; see anything that might have been a charm?”

Martha thought back to the empty room and shook her head. “No, there was nothing there, absolutely nothing.”

Willow tilted her head and thought back as well. She’d walked through the empty room and it was vacant until she brought the leaves from the other garden. Willow’s eyes widened at the memory and she meowed frantically to her human.

Martha looked down at her oddly behaving cat. “What is it?”

Willow jumped up on the counter and nudged the box of tea leaves Martha had brought.

“You think they tainted the leaves in my other garden?”

Willow sniffed the leaves, sneezed furiously, and gave her human a knowing nod.

“This is too far,” Martha fumed, “What can I do now? I’m not blending them wrong; they’ve all been tampered with!”

At that moment the room filled with the sounds of Beethoven’s Für Elise.

“Who can that be?” Perfidia wondered; she hadn’t been expecting anyone and she never had unexpected visitors, except for that bothersome delivery bird-man who came for Martha.

“Do you think it’s another delivery?” Martha whispered, hoping it wasn’t, she couldn’t take another havoc at the moment.

“Only one way to tell,” Perfidia said, “Willow, see who it is.”

Willow gave her a sour look but she did jump through the cat door and returned in moments.

“Is it the delivery man?” Perfidia asked the feline as the doorbell rang again. The beautiful strains of classical music hung on the air as Willow shook her head negatively.

“Okay then I'll answer it,” Martha said and marched out of the kitchen towards Perfidia’s front door.

Perfidia stepped in front of her before she could open the door. “Let me, just incase it’s a different type of havoc; you don’t look like you can handle another one.

Martha gave her a slight smile and stepped back behind the door.

Perfidia opened the door slightly and was surprised to see Odessa Braybrooke standing on her doorstep.

“Hello Odessa, what brings you here?”

“Hello Perfidia, I’d heard Martha was going to enter the tea leave contest and I wanted to see her but she wasn’t at her home and I’d heard you’d been staying with her, so you may know where I can reach her. You see, I’ve been trying to find a way to connect with her since the day she left.”

“Why?”

“Well to tell you the truth, I have something that belongs to her.”

“You do? What is it?”

Odessa looked around nervously as she asked in a near whisper, “Would it be possible to come in and talk, I know I wasn’t expected.”

“Oh, of course,” Perfidia said as she looked back and saw Martha hurrying up the stairs and when she knew she was out of sight, she opened the door wider.

“Where are my manners I should have invited you in at the very first.” Perfidia said with a wide, fake smile.

“Thank you Perfidia.”

Perfidia led Odessa into the kitchen.

“Oh you have such a lovely home and such a large kitchen.”

“Thank you, please have a seat.”

“Oh I smell tea. Were you brewing your own blend?”

“Uhh, I tried but it didn’t seem to work out too well.” Perfidia said and pushed the box of Martha’s tea leaves into a corner. “So what did you want to tell me?”

“Well, it's Martha I need to tell but, before the awful way Percival treated her Martha had been growing a special tea leave. It was all Martha’s work but she was using my southern exposed garden to grow it because it had the most light throughout the day. She'd wanted to keep it separated from any influences of the other leaves in her garden too. Anyway, once she left, I continued to let it grow; it produced a field of the most magnificent tea leaves and I knew she’d be pleased to know how it’d prospered. More than that, when I blend the leaves and brew tea with it…oh my…there are no words for the magnificent brew it produces. I was going to enter it myself in the contest since I couldn’t reach Martha and call it Martha’s brew, but since I’d heard from Percival that she is in town and entering the contest…I'd hoped to speak with her. She should enter these leaves, if she hasn’t a better brew to submit.”

Perfidia’s mouth had dropped open at the first mention of perfect tea leaves.

“Of course, I’ll tell her. Did you bring any with you?” She asked, sounding a bit anxious.

“Yes, I have a full container in my car.”

“Perfect,” Perfidia laughed with relief and glee, “Can I ask you to let me take them to her?”

“Of course, but please give her my best wishes. I’ve missed my friend.”

“I’ll tell her and may I give her your blessing to enter these leaves in the contest?’

“Yes, after all they're her leaves; I did nothing but water and feed them.”

“That’s a lot Odessa and I’m sure Martha will be grateful you did. I think she’ll want to enter them.”

“Then give them to her with my kindest regards.”

“Oh, I will,” Perfidia agreed happily.

Martha hovered on the landing listening to the conversation and her heart filled with bittersweet joy. She’d missed working on tea blends with Odessa and wished she could walk downstairs and greet her, but it would appear suspicion now and open questions to why she was hiding. So Martha stayed on the landing, listening with a big smile of gratitude. She may not have to lose that contest after all.

Martha walked back downstairs after Odessa left.

“So, we’ve had a blessing bestowed in response to that awful havoc,” Martha beamed with relief as she walked into the kitchen.

“It appears so, look at these tender leaves,” Perfidia said offering Martha the filled container.

“They're beautiful and aromatic even from this distance. We’ll need to clear out all the other leaves; I’m not sure if the havoc will taint anything near them, and we cannot take that chance.”

“I’ve already done that. Willow was kind enough to flick a tail and bury them all far out in the woods.”

“Then let’s boil some water and see if we truly do have a magnificent tea, as Odessa believes.”

 

The first sip was truly sublime and each sip after even more so. Martha smiled with satisfaction.

“I’d say this is a winner.”

“I’d say you have no competitor,” Perfidia added.

They laughed and clinked teacups in triumph of besting that shadowed troublemaker.

*

Martha entered the tea leaves in the contest with a written description of their properties and acknowledging her ownership of them. Then she placed the container into a locked area.

Tomorrow she would retrieve them, and prove her brewing skills to the judges.

“Okay now let’s hurry over to the pet contest and watch Willow. I’m sure she’d like to see our friendly faces in the crowd as she gets put through her paces,” Perfidia suggested with a laugh.

“Actually, we need to be there to ensure she doesn’t havoc the pace pusher.” Martha corrected.

They both nodded in agreement of Willow’s short temper and hurried to the building where the preliminary trials had already started.

Willow eyed the stupid maze with contempt. These poor cats had to jump and crawl and twirl around stationary markers like dogs. Where was their dignity, she wondered? If it weren’t for the need to win this for her human, she would put an end to this ridiculous misuse of feline’s intelligence.

“Okay Willow, it’s your turn now.” A woman holding a prodding stick said as she turned to the cat in question and her eyes`widened noting the cat wasn't locked in her carrier as she was supposed to be. Someone must have let her out prematurely she decided and tapped the cat’s hind quarters to have her move onto the stage.

Willow nearly hissed and claw slapped the human but her fine upbringing had her holding back her instinctive reaction, and she merely hissed, under her breath.

Willow needed no prodding for this kittenish course and boldly moved through every obstacle. When she was done with it, she jumped over the whole of the menagerie and walked off the stage. She headed to her human and leaped up on her lap.

“Wow, that was exceptional; the cat even knew where her owner sat. That was an amazing display of obedience.”

Martha quickly put her hands over Willow’s ears hoping she hadn’t heard the insult, but she had.

Suddenly the stage lights flickered ominously and the building's doors blew open with a wind that blasted through the room and tumbled the woman standing on stage with its force. She fell onto the obstacle course, wrecking several pieces and her hair, which had a hair piece attachment, blew into disarray and the hair piece landed in a cat’s water dish that somehow appeared on the stage.

“Close that door,” the woman on stage yelled.

Two burly men got up to do just that but it took a great deal of straining against that angry wind to finally close the door. The winds inside settled down immediately and the lights grew bright again.

“Willow,” Martha whispered but it wasn’t said harshly for there was a smile in her tone.

"Don’t make her stop,” Perfidia whispered, “This is better than I’d hoped for.”

Martha gave Perfidia a serious look and hoped no one had overheard.

Willow purred on her human’s lap in agreement with the red haired one and a cat giggle escaped her throat causing several patrons in the audience to look around for the source of that strange sound.

“Well that was unexpected,” The disheveled woman on the stage said, “I hadn’t heard of this summer storm coming in but I think we’ll be okay. Willow was the last competitor and clearly that is good because we have some repairs to make to the obstacle course,” she chuckled but it didn’t sound humorous, “We will post the eliminations, so please look for the list tomorrow morning in your festival email and we’ll see you all back tomorrow evening for the second round of eliminations. Enjoy your time at the fair,” she said the last with little enthusiasm as she picked her fake hair out of the water dish and shook it disgustedly.

The storm outside had died down as quickly as it had picked up and none of the booths were worse for it, thought no one understood how that flash storm had come through so unexpected, and so fast but they were grateful there was no damage done.

Martha, Perfidia and Willow left the pet building and walked quickly to the Orchid tent for the next event.

 

The Orchids displayed under the lights showed their colors proudly.

Martha marveled at the number of healthy specimens the judges had to compare and critique. It was a daunting task but the black orchid was rare in its pure color, as would be a blue orchid, but there were no pure blue Orchids entered so the black orchid would be judged supreme.

Next to Martha, Perfidia shifted anxiously in her audience chair. They were seated close to a small stage waiting for the judges to conclude their walk among the Orchids before giving the eliminations. The whole waiting process was wearing on Perfidia’s nerves.

The first day’s judging was based solely on the shape of the lip and petals and the sturdiness of the plant’s stem. Perfidia had no concern on that score but felt an unsettling worry that she couldn’t ignore.

“I want to check on the orchid; I’m worried it’s been switched to a stink weed,” she whispered to Martha.

Martha understood the fear, after seeing her empty shed, she wasn’t sure a stink weed wouldn’t appear in its place.

Perfidia was a few feet from her Orchid and stopped when she saw the three judges walking up to it.

“This is amazing.” The first judge said with a nod.

“Yes, perfect sepals and labellum and a very sturdy stem.” A second judge assessed and then all three nodded in agreement and began to write on their pads.

“Who is the gardener?” The first judge, who’d found the plant amazing, asked as he picked up a small index card in front of the orchid; then he read the name out loud to the other two judges.

“The gardener is Gloria Hipswell.”

“What?” Perfidia screeched and all three judges turned to her.

“That's a mistake,” she said pointing at the card in the judge’s hand and walking up to them, “that’s my Orchid not Gloria’s; you need to ask her right now why her card is in front of it.”

Gloria was sitting contentedly next to Roger but turned at the sound of the commotion and then she heard her name shouted by Perfidia and her brow furrowed with annoyance.

“Should we see what’s gong on?” Roger asked her.

“Where Perfidia is involved I’d rather not know,” she answered coldly.

“But I think the judges are looking at us,” Roger whispered.

Gloria looked over and noticed they were indeed looking at her and so were the people around them. She sighed heavily.

“What trouble has Perfidia brewed up now?” She groused.

Roger shrugged, not sure how to answer so he stood up and held his hand out to her.

“Come on, let’s see what going on.”

Gloria reluctantly took his hand.

“Is something wrong?” Gloria asked the judges innocently while giving Perfidia a jaundiced look.

“As if you didn’t know,” Perfidia accused taking a step towards Gloria.

The judge closest stepped between them and turned to Gloria.

“Ms. Hipswell, may I ask you to point to your entry.”

“Of course, it’s that one over there,” she said pointing to a sun boxed orchid further down the table from where they stood.

“Then how is it your name is here by this orchid?” The judge questioned.

Gloria had no idea and told him so.

“I’ve no idea. I wrote out my card and placed it in the holder by my orchid yesterday, after that I haven’t the slightest idea what may have occurred.”

“See, I told you this was my Orchid,” Perfidia said to the judges.

“Yes, it would seem we have a problem. If someone is playing a prank and switching the entry cards we cannot be sure whose entry belongs to whom. We will need to sort this out before we can continue.”

The Judges conferred with each other and then one judge walked to the stage and over to the microphone. “We have an unforeseen delay caused by a detail error and we must ask that every gardener go to their Orchid and write a short description to identify it on their entry card. This must be done before we can continue the judging.”

“Fine by me,” Perfidia fumed, “but where is my card?

“It’s over here...by my Orchid.”

Gloria’s bewildered voice drew Perfidia’s attention.