The Tale of the Magic River

His laugh was loud and hearty; it rippled around those lucky enough
to be invited to sit around the circular oak table. Jessiah, the host,
spread his arms out wide as he finished his story, popped open another
bottle of wine and filled his glass to the brim, standing up and
walking around the table doing the same for the other
guests.


Tang and his wife worked in the vineyards and as soon as they
heard Jessiah had invited the most important people in the village to
share exciting news he had, they supplied him with so much wine it
would fill the river that ran through Gtani. The labels on the bottles
were brightly decorated by their youngest children. Everyone in Gtani
knew on seeing the psychedelic artwork that it was the sign of a good
bottle of wine. Other wine makers occasionally came to the village to
try to sell their produce at the market, but they rarely sold even a
bottle. When all eleven glasses were full, he put the empty bottle on
the ledge by the window and delicately places the cork on a shelf on
the bookcase which covered an entire wall. The top shelf was full of
old corks, all of them different, individually hand-painted by Tang's
eldest daughter Sarilla. She watched as Jessiah admired his collection,
slightly rotating his latest addition using his forefinger so it faced
the right direction. He sat back down at the table and rested his
elbows on the arms of the chair. "Herabshki" he said, raising his
glass.
"Herabshki" his guests replied in unison. They watched as their host
brought his glass to his lips and drank a generous mouthful. They
waited courteously until the glass was placed back down on the table
before they did the same.
"Tana, Ramba." Jessiah called, and two elderly ladies wheeled a trolley
into the room. The taller of the two collected the empty bowls from the
table, the smell of home made soup still lingered in the air. She
stacked the bowls and spoons onto the bottom tier of the trolley as her
sister lay plates in front of each of the guests. On the top tier was a
big silver tray. Leaving just this on the trolley, the two ladies stood
to the side and put their hands behind their backs.
"Rico" Jessiah said, gesturing towards his son, who sat to his left.
Rico stood and walked to the trolley. He took a large sharp knife in
one hand, looked at his father and smiled as he lifted the lid of the
silver tray. He had killed the animal himself and proudly dragged it
home by its front two paws in honour of the occasion. The guests
watched intensely as he made an incision into the meat. Juice oozed out
from the piercing made by the jagged edges of the knife and as he cut,
the sweet smelling liquid dripping onto the tray that lay underneath.
The meat came off the bone with ease and sizzled as Rico spread it over
the first plate. When all eleven plates were overflowing, the two
ladies wheeled the trolley out of the room and Rico retook his seat at
the table. He took a piece of meat in his hands, bit into it and smiled
as he chewed.


The night would go on for hours, the stories would not run
out. Amando, a lifelong friend of Jessiah was notorious throughout
Gtani as the wittiest man in the village. His father and grandfather
had been held in the same regard and Amando had grown up hearing
strangers recount tales from their lives. The local newspaper 'Li
Tikka' was transformed when he took it over. The latest edition always
came out in time for market day, and a copy of Li Tikka was as
essential a purchase as bread and fruit. He would always talk to his
customers, tending the stall with the help of his two youngest
children. With Jessiah by his side at the table and wine flowing, the
two would entertain and their guests would wish the evening lasted
forever.


Jessiah licked his fingers and as the last pieces of meat
were eaten around the table, he stood up.
"My friends. We often meet for no reason other than to eat, drink and
tell stories. But today is an exception. I have news which is going to
change all of our lives."
The guests sat upright in their chairs. The two old ladies came into
the room with the trolley. Jessiah shooed them away.
"I am immensely proud of my son Rico. The son I cradled in my arms, who
you all have seen grow up into the fine figure of a man who is sat
before you now. You have experienced first hand this feast he has
provided us with this evening."
The guests graciously clapped their hands. Rico nodded his thanks and
took a sip of wine as he waited for the applause to die down.
"My son has created something. Something special. Something sacred."
Jessiah sat down again and his son stood and walked to the bookcase
which covered an entire wall. Hidden on the bottom shelf amongst
flowers clipped that day from the orchard was a bottle. He put it in
the middle of the table and the guests craned their necks to look at
it. It was a colour they had never seen before, shades of blue and
green which melted into each other. He uncorked the bottle and gave it
to Tang, who sat on his left to smell. Tang cradled it nervously in his
hands and brought it close to his nose. On smelling it, he closed his
eyes.
"Good?" Rico asked. Tang nodded and passed it to his left. Nobody spoke
as the potion came full circle and ended up back in Rico's hands.
"Over the years, some of you may have seen me regularly walking by the
banks of the river. Yehudi the Carpenter, whom you all remember once
told me a story. I was a young boy but still remember it vividly. He
told me that long before even our great great grandfathers were born,
the Gtani river flooded. The rain did not cease and the riverbanks
exploded. Hundreds of fish and other water creatures which now do not
exist died on the grass by the river. Ever since then, the grass has
had magical qualities. I asked him what kind of magical qualities and
he laughed, saying that one day I would learn. I took this to be
prophetic and swore then that I would unearth the answer. While my
brothers dedicated their lives to the farmland, I would walk by the
riverside, thinking about what Yehudi the Carpenter said. At times it
drove me to breaking point and I would feel like jumping into the river
and sinking to the bottom. At other times I felt like building a hut by
the bank so I never had to leave. As I took those walks by the river, I
thought of making a potion. The correct ingredients were hard to find
and the collection of them was painstaking. I can't describe how long
it took me in terms of years, it does not do it justice. What is in
this bottle is a lifetime of work."
"What is in the bottle?" asked Sarilla, daughter of Tang.
"A great number of things, all the measurements perfectly calculated.
Every night I collect rainwater. I place pots around the garden and
every morning pour the collected water into a big barrel. The recent
storms have expanded my collection to twelve barrel loads of rainfall.
This will be inadequate if the potion is as popular as I anticipate.
The second ingredient is grass. There are three types of grass growing
in Gtani."
Rico walked over to the bookcase and picked up a piece of wood into
which three pieces of grass were pressed.
"The first is by the old wishing well. It is the longest grass, the
deepest colour and the most nutrients and is the scarcest grass in
Gtani. The second, a lighter green is the thickness of a fingernail.
This grass is found over in the churchyard. And the third, the most
important grass and the vital ingredient in this potion is of course
from the banks of the river, the famous grass of which Yehudi the
Carpenter spoke. It is a deep green and discolours the rainwater when
it is distilled in the bottle. After much experimentation I discarded
the first two grasses completely and persevered with the third."
Rico put the piece of wood back onto the bookcase and returned to stand
behind his chair. As he walked, the eyes of all the guests were glued
to him, impatient for him to start talking again.
"The next ingredient I found when going through an old cookery book
that belonged to my Grandmother. I discovered a secret ingredient of
hers was the Lambre Spice, which she seasoned on all of her best
recipes. None of the Gtani market stalls had heard of Lambre and I
found the same to be true of the next to villages. But when I asked for
it in the fourth village they smiled and weighed out a generous measure
for me, and sealed it in a tin." Rico picked a golden tin out of his
pocket and tapped it with the knuckles of his right hand.
"It took until nightfall to walk back to Gtani, but as soon as I
returned instead of sleeping I sprinkled a handful of Lambre into a
basin of river grass and rainwater. I mixed it around with a lathe but
was ultimately disappointed. I felt it still lacked one ingredient. One
evening I returned back indoors after sitting by the stream that runs
through the orchard at the back of our cottage and found my father
Jessiah waiting for me by the gate. He told me my mother had died in a
riding accident. He could barely articulate the words and I felt
dwarfed, I felt like a child again, and wanted to be comforted in his
great arms Instead I went back to the orchard and cried. A tear fell
into the potion. I swirled it around and the recipe was complete. More
tears fell and I made up maybe a hundred bottles. Once I got the
measurement of Lambre right, I drank the whole bottle, gulping it down
until empty. It had a bitter, sharp taste but I felt I had the recipe
perfect. I felt happy, but sick, uneasy and sad at the thought of my
Mother. When I went to bed I had the best night I had ever had. Now
every morning I drink my potion. The effects are magical, and I feel
healthier than ever before. The trips to the fourth village for spices
and the collection of rainwater every night is worth it, as Yehudi the
Carpenter said, the grass by the river has magical qualities. I have
eleven bottles with me here, and my Father and I request you go home
tonight and drink the potion until the bottle is empty. If it has no
effect, you need never mention it again. But if, like me you feel
revitalised and want to drink it daily, I will be happy to supply you
with more."
Rico sat down. The guests clapped loudly and at length. Jessiah
signalled for the two old ladies to clean the plates
away.


*****
It was market day. Jessiah's biggest love in life was to walk into the
village, talk to the variety of locals who approached him, drink a
glass of wine at Tang's stall and walk back home reading Li Tikka,
laughing out loud at what his friend Amando had written. Now though his
knees were too weak and his legs too frail. He sent his eldest son Rico
to collect the goods from the market for him. Rico had barely left the
front gate when Tang caught up with him.
"Rico. I drank your potion." Tang said excitedly. Rico nodded.
"You were right. It has magical qualities. For years I have been unable
to sleep for long periods of time. When I left your Father's cottage, I
arrived at mine and drank your potion. I thought nothing of it, then
awoke, realising for the first time I can remember that I had slept
until the sun rose without stirring once. The whole of the next day
tending the animals I felt so refreshed, I enjoyed working more than I
can ever remember. Since then I have drank your potion and slept
soundly all night. Is this the secret Yehudi the Carpenter alluded to,
which you were so reluctant to reveal?"
Rico nodded and Tang jumped in the air, clapping his hands. He ran off
down the rocky lane. Rico continued his journey into Gtani but as he
arrived at the river he had to cross to get to the market, he met
Sarilla, daughter of Tang.
"Rico" she called and ran towards him.
"Since the meal at your Father's cottage I have drank your potion
regularly. You have met my husband Gradon, at the wedding of my sister.
We have been praying to God to let us have a baby. Every night we have
tried without reward and had grown resigned to having a childless
marriage. Suddenly, after sipping your potion, we are blessed with a
child. Soon I will be a mother. Is this the secret Yehudi the Carpenter
alluded to, which you were so reluctant to reveal?"
Rico nodded his head and Sarilla kissed him on the cheek, and stayed
where she was, rubbing her stomach as Rico carried on his walk into
Gtani. He arrived at the market, aware of the eyes of every customer on
him. He bought fish and bread and cheeses as always and went to
Amando's stall as the final visit of the market. Amando stood with his
two sons, smiled at him and held out a copy of Li Tikka. Rico reached
for his purse to give him some coins but Amando shook his head.
"You don't have to pay Rico. Without you, this paper would never have
been written. Before I cam to the meal at your Father's cottage I had
decided I had written my last words. The jokes were no longer funny,
the observations no longer true. I had no more inspirations for
articles, I decided I had grown too old. But on returning home I drank
your potion and that night I had more ideas than I have ever had
before. I sat all night on the wooden porch of my home writing, making
myself laugh out loud. I finished as the sun rose, my family came to
join me and we ate breakfast together for the first time in our lives.
Is this the secret Yehudi the Carpenter alluded to, which you were so
reluctant to reveal?"
Rico took the paper and put it in the cotton bag with his other
groceries.
"Yes it is" he said and waved his hand as he started his walk
home.


"You were at the market a long time" Jessiah said to his son
taking the newspaper Rico held out for him.
"I met a lot of people"
"They talked to you about the potion?" Rico nodded.
"I have some questions for you Rico. The recipe book which belonged to
your Grandmother. Could I have a look at it?" Rico hesitated.
"No" he said. "I have it no longer."
"Lambre Spice. That is the spice you mentioned."
"Yes."
"I have never heard of it before. How is this when it was my Mother's
favourite ingredient?" His son shrugged his shoulders.
"Rico. You say you collected rainwater every night in pots outside. How
have I never seen them?" Rico shrugged his shoulders, remaining
silent.
"I was down in the orchard today. I have a favourite knife I use to cut
flowers. It slipped out of my hand and dropped into the stream. As I
swirled my hand around the water trying to retrieve it a thought struck
me. I had the potion with me, I intended to drink it in the sunshine. I
tasted it and then scooped some water from the stream into my cupped
hand and drank it. I think the stream water and your potion are the
same thing Rico. There is no magic grass, there are none of your
Grandmother's spices, you have cried no tears into this potion."
Rico smiled. His father looked at him, his eyes, normally so piercing
were soft, warm. Jessiah put the bottle of potion on the floor and
began to laugh. As he laughed louder and harder, Rico joined in and
soon the two could not stop laughing. Jessiah put his arms around his
eldest son and they cradled each other, tears streaming down their
faces. As Jessiah released his arms to wipe his eyes his son walked
into the orchard and sat by his favourite tree. As he sat cross legged
looking at the stream he realised it was the first time his father, the
most powerful man in the village had embraced him. He threw a stone
into the stream and wondered whether the potion could have been magic
after all.