The Wishing Well

Enter the delightful world of the wellkeepers, the folks that live in wells and grant wishes to people who throw their coins in.

Wishing wells are not as popular as once they were. These days they usually give their coinage to charities, which isn’t like the traditional arrangement. Giving a coin to charity is a fine and noble thing, for its granting the wishes of other folks who maybe need it more, but there’s no denying it’s a fair way tougher to part with monies on someone else’s behalf than your own.

                Our well though, is a proper wishing well, signed and certified by the Museum of Magical Authority.

                A weeping maid of rare beauty (maybe I’m a little over zealous with my poetry here, her face was wet and red and a little snotty, and unkempt she was, but you could still see the beauty in her) was visiting our well, on the day when our story begins.

                “Oh wishing well, wishing well.” She said sadly. (I’ve been generous with my paraphrasing, most of the word were staggered, as from one who is trying to breath and talk and cry all at once.)

                The wishing well attended her words carefully, for the well once had a gold piece from the Rosey’s grandmother, along with a wish to look after young Rosey and keep her happy.

                “Why are all men such meanies?” (She didn’t actually say “meanie,” but as I could not possibly repeat her chosen noun. It’s far too rude)

                The well didn’t answer, not having a tongue or lungs or any of the other necessities for a conversation. But it was very sympathetic, or so it seemed to Rosey, and she could not help but feel a little better for talking.

                “That fool Richard told me he’d never love another.” She said sadly. “But this morning I found him kissing young Nellie, square on the lips or I’m a liar!”

                The soliloquy was delayed slightly at another flood of tears. But the understanding silence of the well seemed to encourage her to continue, so with a shaking hand she drew a bronze coin from her purse.

                “Wishing well, could you find me a decent man?” She asked tentatively. “Could you do that for me?”

                This was met with an awkward silence, as I’m not entirely sure the well believed in the fairy tale that is a decent man. But Rosey didn’t notice; in her mind the coin was already spent. She lay it on the edge of the well sang a few words to the well.

                “I’ll send to you a coin old well, you’re to forever keep.

                And to you my wish I’ll sell, to grant me while I sleep.”

                She couldn’t remember the song in full as it was a long time since her grandmother taught it to her, but she hummed the tune a while longer before committing her small wealth to the waters within. She hurried away to her next shift of work at the small Inn in the village.

 

*

                Inside the well the coin travelled a very short distance before it became tangled in the keeper’s nets. A scarecrow waded into the water and plucked out that coin.

                Oh I wish you could meet that scarecrow! She was much more fun than the modern variety, liable to sing and play games and tweak your nose and tickle you and laugh with delight. She was old for a scarecrow, about ten years or so. Her name was Scatterbrain but don’t let that silly name fool you, for she was as smart as they come.

                When she was made she was made as a fellweather girl, which is what the folks in her parts called the scarecrows who would work for you in the wind and rain. Scarecrow was a misnomer, for in the seasons she worked most of the crows were in no mood for fields under wind and rain. Her main enemy had been the storms that could have ruined her master’s crops.

                But she’d taken to reading and writing and studying, and such things make a scarecrow dissatisfied and over qualified. The farmer was a kind-hearted woman, so she fired Scatterbrain and let her loose into the world. Working for the wishing well was delightful work for her; a wet damp cave was decent lodgings to her mind. There were dry rooms hidden underground where she could keep and grow her library, and that was enough to make her content.

                “Hey ho Liam!” She called. “We’ve got ourselves a wish at last!”

                Liam entered the room and smiled at the coin she showed him, because there was no denying a wish when it was paid for. Liam was a farm hand often, a quiet and thoughtful young fellow. His heart belonged not to the farmland but to the wishing well, and it was here he lived and to the well he gave his thoughts and energy.

                “It’s a good coin too!” She said excitedly. “Old man Bert will be mighty pleased by this one I’m sure. Why if this wasn’t struck this very year I don’t know nothing about coins, for it shines so! I’d almost judge it near mint, if it wasn’t for the presence of abrasions!”

                This was Scatterbrain’s style of speech, lengthy chattering with words she’s found in her beloved books. She and Liam worked well together, for the tall sandy haired lad was a good listener, and she an impressive talker.

                “Let’s show Old man Bert.” He suggested. “See what he thinks about it.”

                They went to Bert’s office, one of the nicest places hidden underground, so comfortable you’d soon forget you were six feet under. He looked up smiling when his two apprentices walked in, for he’d been listing to the pipes that were installed in the well, and he knew a wish was in for the granting.

                He wheeled his chair around to behind the desk and asked to see the coin. He donned a golden pair of jeweller’s glasses and set about studying the coin, making notes on a pad at his left hand.

                “It’s a good specimen.” Scatterbrain cheerfully continued to share her knowledge and opinion. “Got the face of the empress and I don’t see none of the signs that it’s a fake, no sign at all! Shame she’s got her necklace on, because she’s worth more without it, they recalled all the ones with no necklace and paid well for their return-” She went on a lot more than this but I would run out of ink and bankrupt myself in paper if I took the time to write down every word that that wonderful scarecrow ever said.

                “It is good.” Bert agreed, once his careful analysis was complete. “Not worth much on the market but worth a lot to us my friends!”

“How so?” Liam asked curiously.

“She earned this coin doing overtime, and hated every minute of the three hours it took to earn it.” Bert explained. “But she didn’t earn it for herself, oh no! Old grandmother Beth was feeling ill and she wanted a coin to cheer her grandmother up. She knows how old Beth swears by our well, so she thought a wish might do the trick.”

“But we fixed Old Beth!” Scatterbrain interrupted. “Me and Liam dressed up as training healers and went a knocking. Didn’t want us at first, who wants a trainee? But once Liam explained we’d both spent a coin or two in the Wishing Well she soon warmed to us. Reckoned we wished for good healing skills I suppose.”

“Yes, I’m glad we could save her.” Bert mused. “She’s been good to us has that old woman, and it would be hard luck to see her go. Anyhow she was right as rain by the time Rosey brings her this coin, so of course she told Rosey to keep it, so Rosey did. She had a plan of her own for that coin. A nice pretty dress, second hand but lovely nonetheless, is what she was to buy with it.”

“Only that went out the window when Richard started kissing other girls.” Liam guessed.

“Good guess lad! That’s the truth of it, she went right off the idea of parties at that point, but there’s no denying there’s good magic to be harvested from a coin like this one. The fact she earned for her old gran will keep this underground house of ours warm for a year!”

The two younger ones smiled, for the underground lodgings were mighty uncomfortable without the magic that existed down there. Bert looked at the coin thoughtfully.

“Now I know she’s decided not to go to the village party, but it highly likely she’ll be sorely jealous when all the other girls make plans, so let’s find her a fellow, and one kind enough to get her a pretty dress!”

So they fell to it. There was no economic boom at that time - they usually only got three or four wishes a season - so this was a good chance to give the task full effort.

Scatterbrain offered her own dress, suggesting it could conveniently find its way to a gentleman who might lend it to Rosey. A decent plan, but no one knew Rosey’s measurements, so Liam had to role it up and put it in a rucksack. He climbed up the ladder and went to see Old Grandmother Beth about making it a good fit.

Scatterbrain was given the hard task of finding an appropriate gentleman. Finding someone worthy of Old Beth’s grand daughter was a weighty responsibility, but she took to it with her usual enthusiasm.

 

**

Old Beth was a bit of chatterbox as well. Liam was having afternoon tea with her, and getting a good deal of practice with his listening skills.

“Let you pass by without inviting you in for tea and biscuits? Not likely!” she bustled about with scones and biscuits. “Not likely at all! Wouldn’t do that to an enemy, not when it’s autumn, and especially after all the help you and your friend gave me with that nasty cough I had. All cleared up now, thanking you kindly. Must be some kind of magic in those tea leaves you gave me, lungs have never been clearer!”

There certainly was magic in them, and Liam had visited under the pretext of giving her some more. The noble woman insisted on paying him for his trouble, and inviting him in for tea. Liam had been anticipating the tea, for he was a very good judge of character, but the coins had been a pleasant surprise.

“Glad you stopped by young Liam.” (Scones were buttered, cream laid out) “I was hoping to ask you a question. Are you going to this party they’re having at the village hall?” She fixed him with an inquisitive stare.

Liam, as I’ve said, was good character judge. He suspected right away Grandmother Beth was looking for a young man for Rosey. He looked thoughtful as he tried to frame the best response.

“Don’t think I’ll make it.” He said quietly. “I’ve got a job on at the moment, and I don’t want to mess up the task.”

“Oh well that’s a shame young man!” (Strawberries, neatly sliced and placed in a bowl) “You’re one of those what work to hard I reckon, no time for play I’d guess. Well you think on it Liam, because you might regret it one day, missing out on parties full of pretty girls.”

Liam had no intelligent reply here, so he said nothing. Liam would always choose to say nothing if there was nothing intelligent to say. They settled into the tea and Beth kept the conversation going a little longer. Liam waited for his opportunity, and sure enough the talk turned to Rosey.

“You know Grandmother Beth” (“Call me Beth! I don’t like Grandmother, makes me feel old!”) “I have a cousin that’s exactly the same size and shape as Rosey.”

“That so dear?”

“Trouble is, I’ve got this dress I’d said I’d buy for her, but I don’t know if it’ll fit. I’m rubbish at that kind of thing.”

That did the trick, I can tell you! Beth must have thought the nice young man was in love, because she spent a full half hour trying to improve Scatterbrain’s dress. But it was no use, Scatterbrain was a full head shorter than Rosey, so Beth got down an old dress of her own, full of memories. She set about adjusting the size.

“Mind? I don’t mind at all young man; I’ll get it done for you. Can’t have you and your cousin looking scruffy now can we? You’ll all be the envy of the village once I’m done!”

Grandmother Beth ended up fixing not only the one dress for Rosey, she also fixed Scatterbrain’s dress and insisted on lending Liam a smart old suit that belonged to a relative once upon a time. Liam headed back to the well with the dresses, though this time he used the secret entrance concealed in an old shed as he couldn’t be climbing and hold suits and dresses without creases. He carefully hung his own suit and Scatterbrain’s in his own wardrobe. He closed the door, thinking it would be a nice surprise for Scatterbrain when he took them out to show her.

 

**

 

                Meanwhile Scatterbrain was in the village making friends.  She’d started by wandering about knocking on doors (under the pretence of selling buttons) just to see if any candidate presented themselves as appropriate. A fair few folks new Rosey (and that scoundrel Richard) and Scatterbrain was soon gossiping.

                They met at the Inn where Rosey worked, just as dusk was setting in.

                “Any luck?” Liam asked.

                “Lots of it!” Scatterbrain was in a good mood. “There’s plenty of people know about Rosey, always likes to go for the adventurous types, then of course she gets her heart broken when they get adventurous with other ladies!”

                “Hmmm.” Liam looked thoughtful. “Do you think perhaps we should look for someone a little less adventurous?”

                “Not a bad idea.” She mused. “But what about her weakness for daring men? She’d find a quiet fellow too boring! And if the exciting fellows aren’t going to work out...”

                “I might know just the one.” Liam replied. “There’s a bartender in there, around about her age, I spotted him earlier. He was working hard scrubbing the tables, looked lost in thought. He got very interested when he overheard some folks telling stories about treasure and quests.”

               “How’s that going to help?”

                “Seems like the kind of man who’d like to do exciting things, but is maybe is a little too timid?”

                “Ah, so you think maybe she’d bring up his confidence? Make him become more like the kind of chap she’d be interested in?”

                “No. I think we’ll have to do that.” Liam ran his fingers through his hair, thinking deeply. “The question is, how do we get his confidence up?”

                “I know how we can do it! We just need a cloak and a staff and a mask!” She clapped her hands with delight. “Oh, we’ll need some scissors too.”

***

                The young man’s name was Christian. He’d have a reputation as a hard worker, if it wasn’t for the fact he was always lost in thought. He was the kind of chap who’d wipe down all the tables, and then varnish them all, without noticing his colleagues had finished, and really wanted to close the pub and go home.

                At the moment long scraggly hair was flopping in his eyes, as he was scrubbing the shelves in the larder. The reason he was back there instead of front of house was his boss. She was in despair of his physical appearance - which was perpetually scruffy - and didn’t want the customer’s seeing a man so badly turned out.

                Liam walked in the front of the pub. He had a fine pair of scissors tucked into his belt. When he got to the bar and they offered him a drink, but he declined. He asked to speak to the landlady.

                “How can I help?” The landlady was a brisk woman, forever in a hurry and rarely able to spare five minutes for anyone.

                “Hi.” He shook her hand politely. She stared at his outstretched hand like he was a madman, but shook it nonetheless. “I’m training up as a barber with my old man at the moment, and I was wondering if you know anyone who would like a free haircut?”

                This changed her opinion at once. Politeness never got far with her but she’s respond to the word free as quick as you can say of-course-young-man-right-this-way-follow-me.

                Christian didn’t quite know how it happened, but he found himself sat down with a blanket wrapped about his person. Liam was busy snipping away at his long hair before he could work out why he wasn’t scrubbing shelves anymore.

                “Nice day today, wouldn’t you say?” Liam started the conversation. But Christian was shy, so he merely mumbled a response. Liam didn’t give up though.

                “Have you heard about that party they’re having in the village?”

                “I heard, yes.” Christian seemed to resign himself to the fact he was going to have to talk to the barber.

                “Are you planning on going?”

“I don’t think so.” Christian replied. “I’d like to, you know, but I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“I’m sure you can find someone easy enough.” Liam smiled encouragingly. “There’s loads of girls who work here, why not ask one of them?”

“Can’t.” Christian sighed. “They’ve all already got someone to go to the dance with.”

“That’s not true.” (Liam attacked a particularly wild tangle of hair at the back of Christian’s head) “I heard Rosey and Christian aren’t together anymore.”

“Really?” Christian seemed interested.

“Yes. You should ask her.”

“I might do. She’d probably say no though.”

Liam was about to argue with that, but at the point the girl in question walked past. Certainly she said a cheerful good morning to Christian, but the interested eye was on Liam. Her body language was in agreement with Old Grandmother Beth, that Liam was indeed a very nice young man.

This was awkward. Liam had no interest in putting himself forward as a candidate for Rosey’s boyfriend. He carried on snipping away, muttering responses to Rosey’s friendly questioning.

It was Scatterbrain that saved the moment. She walked passed Liam and hissed in his ear.

“Act like Tom Miller from over the river!” She whispered.

Tom Miller was a brown haired dandy from another part of town who was altogether disinterred in woman. Liam did the best he could, focusing his attention on Christian. A few phrases such as;

“You look so handsome now with your hair cut!” and “All we need to do is get you some nice clothes and you’ll look lovely!” Pretty soon Rosey lost heart in her flirtations. If Christian had been jealous of the attention Liam had received, he did not show it. In truth Christian only really wanted Rosey to be happy, he didn’t much mind who or what was making her happy.

This kind of attitude only made Liam more certain he’d found the right choice for her, so he set about persuading Christian to ask her.

“It’ll be easy!” Liam encouraged. “All you have to do is give her a dress and say you want to go to the ball with prettiest girl in town.”

“Really?” Christian looked hopeful. The lad did not know much about the inner workings of a woman’s heart. “Just a dress? Is that all it would take?”

“And you’ve got to tell her she’s pretty.”

“But surely Rosey already knows how beautiful she is!” Christian found the whole thing very confusing.

At this point by sheer magical good fortune (a special kind good luck tends to follow the well keepers around) Rosey was walking past. She heard Christian say she was beautiful, and she blushed and felt mightily happy and pleased. What a wonderful thing to say!

Rosey stole a glance at Christian. She started to see him differently now. She started remembering all the kind little things he’d done for her. Just small things, taking on tough tasks and letting her have the easy ones, or sticking up for her when she was five minutes late.

“Where would I get a dress though?” Christian asked.

“Well,” (Liam glanced around to make sure Rosey had gone back to the bar) “I happen to have a dress here I’ve been trying to get rid of. To be honest it would do me a favour if you could take it off my hands.”

“Why is it old and ragged?”

“No, it’s one of Grandmother Beth’s, but I don’t think I’ll get it home without getting mud on it. I’ve a long way to go.”

Christian, taken with the idea of asking Rosey (and no doubt emboldened by his no longer scruffy haircut) took the dress off of Liam. He even bought him a drink to say thank you.

 

At this point Scatterbrain was at the bar, telling wild stories to all who would listen.

“He’s a villain I tell you!” She waved her arms about for dramatic effect. “He comes after dark, when you’re all on your own, with a wooden stave. He’ll take all your finances and anything of value upon your person!”

(“He’ll mug you.” Someone translated.)

“He wears a big cloak black as night and there’s not a drop of mercy in is empty soul!”  There were several keen listeners to the tale at this point. Some of them seemed a little worried by the discourse.

“He wouldn’t attack us here though would he? In the middle of the village?”

“He might do. There’s no telling what a thief might do or dare for a coin or two.”

All the folks looked considerably uneasy now. Scatterbrain noticed that Rosey was in her audience so she told the most important part.

“I reckon anyone who walks home unaccompanied would be in trouble. Sure would be. Thieves who work the solitary game don’t like to attack a couple or a crowd.”

Pretty soon the crowd had fallen into the task of arranging who would be walking home with whom.

Rosey herself became pretty nervous at this point. Everyone seemed to have someone to walk home with! It was her turn to clean down the bar after work and everybody would have headed home by them. She wanted to ask someone to stay and wait for her, but she knew she'd take at least a full hour to have everything cleaned down.

Well I'm sure you've guessed who came to her assistance. Our young Christian heard about the masked bandit and marched straight up to Rosey to offer to help clean down the bar. The way he saw things was that it was a perfect opportunity to offer the dress and ask her to the party without anyone watching to laugh at him (that and the fact he didn't want her walking back alone with bandits about).

Rosey was so delighted she gave him a kiss on the cheek and said thank you. She remembered the coin she'd dropped in the wishing well. Half of her wished she'd saved it for a dress; for here was a gentleman and a friend who she'd gladly go to the dance with.

I'll skip ahead in the story, because all that happened for the rest of the evening was Rosey and Christian working hard, while Scatterbrain and Liam sat in a corner having a whispered conversation. They both had free drinks, Christian was providing Liam's drinks and Scatterbrain had made a number of generous friends who kept her watered. Truth be told scarecrows don't actually drink (gets their straw horribly damp) but she was too polite and two delighted to turn any offer down. She'd let the drinks sit in front of her, occasionally tipping some into Liam's glass. 

Night came in and shrouded the village's lands in darkness.

Rosey was now politely asking everyone to drink up and go home. She was secretly looking forward to having Christian all to herself.

They all left and the pair fell to cleaning up the pub. Firstly they gave the place a goodly scrub, then a bit of polish was applied. Christian was trying to work out the best way to ask her to the dance, not knowing that Rosey was thinking much the same thoughts. It had to be Rosey who asked though, because she was the less shy of the pair.

"Christian?"

"Yes?"

“You know they've got a dance on down the village hall don't you?”

                “Uh huh”

                “You going?”

                “Um....”

                “Would you ask me to go? I promise I’ll say yes.”

This was agreeable to both individuals. Christian brought out the dress in triumph, and both were delighted (she by the dress he by her reaction). They started talked about the rumoured bandit in the village, and Christian resolved to take a broom handle home with the, just in case they met the bandit.

                They went home arm in arm. Both were pretending to be brave about thieves and murderers that stalk the night. Christian was the slightly bolder of the two. But he was armed so that is understandable.

                “Halt!” Cried a stranger in the night. “Give us your goods and riches!”

                The thief! What rotten luck eh? Christian who had felt slightly brave before now felt utterly helpless. All he had ever heard of ruffians told he was likely to be at the very least maimed by sunrise. He stood their paralysed, with a trembling Rosey on his arm. Rosey! Christian found himself thinking of her hit by the stave the thief was carrying. He pushed her gently away

                “Run Rosey!” He whispered, and ran at the thief flailing his broom handle wildly.

                The villain, wrapped in large cloak that distorted his size and shape stepped calmly out of the way of the oncoming attack. Christian shot a glance at Rosey, but she was watching the fight with some kind of horrified fascination. He sighed, thinking of the folly of women, but next moment he was under attack so he had to raise his stick to defend himself.

                The thrusts and attacks came slow and steady, the bandit seemed unable to tire. But Christian had seen this style of fighting before, at the village fete there was always a quarterstaff completion. He’d tried his luck from time to time, So he knew well enough where to place his staff.

                But village fetes are not in the dark, and certainly not on uneven ground. Christian took a sensible step back to avoid a thrust and found himself wrong footed, he tried to right himself but fell hard and on his back. He was temporarily winded, but soon got his breathe back.

                “Run Rosey!” He screamed, wild with fear, no idea where the attacker hid in the dark.

                Suddenly he was there, looming over Christian. Christian scrambled about, desperately tring to find his staff...

                WHAM!

                Out of nowhere Rosey tackled the burglar. She’d thrown her whole weight into the attack and the masked man almost tumbled, just about finding his footing after a gasp of surprise. He was trying to get to disentangle her so he could take a step back, but Rosey resisted his efforts, hanging on for dear life. 

This gave Christian the time he needed to get back on his feet. He charged forward ready to join the battle, only to find that he couldn't really swing his weapon, as Rosey was in the way.

"Rosey!" He cried "Get out the way!"

Get out the way she did, and the thief almost lost his balance! Christian tried to fetch him a heavy blow to the forehead, but there was no avail there. The stave of the foe was up and blocking the broomstick handle quick as you like. The two fell into dueling hard and fast, but neither could break the other.

Rosey was on the ground, gasping for breath. She fallen over shortly after disengaging the enemy. The fight was truly a spectacle now, both participants had sped up their game considerably, but Rosey knew one would soon tire. She reached out on the ground, and her hand set upon what she was looking for. A pebble, about half the size of her hand. She picked it up and flung it fiercely at the foe.

It had been aimed at the head but in the whirling melee it struck his arm.

He gave a yelp of pain and surprise. It made him hesitate a moment, and Christian used the moment to land a blow on his upper thigh.

In pain and defeated, the thief turned and fled!

Rosey and Christian were delighted; full of victory they hugged each other. Rosey gave Christian a kiss, and the young man felt that this was truly the best night of his life. That wasn't all though, the two heard a smattering in the night, and turned to stare into the darkness.

A crowd of people, no doubt attracted by the noise, had come to watch the proceedings; they were applauding the two heroes. Mighty impressed they were, at how the two had seen of the scoundrel, and it was soon to become the talk of the village. I believe that Richard Miller, the one who had first used Rosey unkindly, heard about it and turned red with jealously. He fancied himself something of an expert with a quarterstaff, and wished he could have been there to gain the glory.

*

 

Further down the road, away from the clapping crowd, the masked man sat with his back to the wall. A scarecrow walked up to him.

"Well that went a lot better than expected!" Scatterbrain whispered excitedly. "All those people watching, and the two of them working harmoniously will do wonders for their relationship!"

                The man pulled off his mask and lo! Who was it? It was Liam of course. It was probably unnecessary after the success at the pub, but Liam and the scarecrow had thought it would be jolly good fun to dress Liam up as a villain. Christian had never been in any real danger, for Liam had only been trying to put on a show to provide a bit of adventure and excitement for the couple.

"Wasn't expecting Rosey to join in." He said, rubbing his arm where the stone had struck. "Should have thought of that."

"Well, you can't guess everything I suppose!" Scatterbrain said cheerfully (she after all had been hit by neither stone nor stick). "I reckon we've done a fairly good job of this task. Exceptional expenditure of excellent expertise! Still though, I wish we could go to that party. Sounds like a jolly evening and no mistake."

Her corduroy face looked wistful.

"Let's get back to the well." Liam said quietly, smiling again. "I've got something to show you."

 

 

***

 

The dance was quite wonderful in the end. Old man Bert was so pleased with the efforts of his apprentices that he paid for both their tickets out of his own pocket. The dress and suit provided by Old Grandmother Beth were lovely, Liam and Scatterbrain looked splendid. A fair few times in the evening the tale of how Christian and Rosey had triumphed was retold (It got very dramatic and inaccurate towards midnight). But Rosey and Christian were rarely available to discuss they were always busy.

Rosey and Christian were dancing the whole night long.