U for My Birkeland from Uldervik in Norway
My at 10 is the youngest of the apprentices and one of the exceptions from the age rule. She is absolutely not one of the unknown apprentices, but we hear little about her background in the online chapters. She comes from the same place as Jon, Uldervik, near Tromsø in the far North of Norway, where he works as a mail-man, and she is an only child of a single mother, her father died almost as soon as My was born. Her mother works as a modiste and is known and treasured in the theatre and literary circles of all Norway, so even if they live in a faraway place, My's mother often entertains celebrities and little My learns how to look and behave as a movie star. One thing is the looks, another thing is the interior, and My -- and for the most part her mother too -- did not like the gossipy, elbowing, knife in the back atmosphere of most of the crew.
My's copper red hair makes everybody bear with her as they write it down to red hair equals temper, but her mother persists on My's ability to keep her temper in tow.
My had turned 10 at one of the darkest, most rainful days in a wet and dark November, and not long after something happened.
Much of the afternoon, from school's out until her mother arrives back home, My is alone. She is allowed to bring one friend home, and to use all the scraps in the scrap basket for sewing doll's clothes - or even some for herself if she can manage. But My prefers to play in the attic with some of the neighbouring children. They play mostly folk tales, where My is the witch casting terrible spells and curses on whomever antagonizes her. Small and lithe with her coppery hair loose and tufted, and with skirts made from coloured pieces from the scrap basket, she looks the part.
Sometimes, mostly in winter, when it was pitch dark when she returned from school, she liked to stay in the big apartment, reading and eating cookies. Often the mail-man came, delivering orders or swatches in big manilla envelopes for her mother. The mail-man was a wonder to My, she was as dark as she was fair, his hair as black as hers was red, and in his red and black mail-man uniform with a double row of bright buttons he looked like something from a fairytale himself. It took weeks before My dared to say more than Hello or Thank you to the tall, dark stranger, but Jon, our postman, kept greeting her every time, and after some more time he got more words out of the girl. When after more than a month of chance meetings, he found My in a bleak mood sitting outside the apartment door, she was no longer afraid to speak to him. "Oh, Mr. postman," My said, "can you help me? I have lost my key. Mum is going to scold me so much. She said I was not old enough for my own key ..."
"How did you lose it?" Jon asked.
"Those girls ... " My said, and then stopped.
"Those four that have been following you, and teasing you ever since the Autumn holidays?" Jon asked, his voice low and caring.
"How did you know?" My asked, "but yes those four."
"You have no idea how much you can learn by walking the same rounds, and seeing the same persons, stairs and houses every day," Jon said. "But what happened to your key?"
"They teased me again, and I became so mad," My admitted, "and I threw
thinks at them and stones and sticks. Then they sang 'Sticks and stones may break our bones, but My can never hit us.' Of course this made me even madder, and I looked for even larger stones to throw at them. In the end, I was home, and found I lost the key somewhere on the way. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I picked up my projectiles."
"Come with me for the last of my round, and then let's go and search together. That'll be better than sitting here on the staircase and grow cold."
My saw the logic in what Jon the postman suggested, she left her schoolbag at the door, and helped Jon empty the bag of letter; and then, in the dark they walked to the woody stretch of the road where she had ran around looking for stones to throw at the girls.
On the way Jon told about bing a postman, that was quickly over and done with, then they talked of stamps, and then of Fairy tales, and My told of her role as a witch in the childrens' plays.
"How are we ever to find my key here in the dark?" My asked.
"Do you believe in magic?" Jon asked.
"Like in the fairy-tales?" My asked, and Jon nodded. "Hmm, I do not really know," My said. "Everybody says magic is only inside the books -- oh! I love books -- but I would like magic to be real. Good magic that is, not like all the curses and spells I pretend to cast on my enemies when I am Barbara, the witch in our plays. Or even the
thinks I try to send at them to make them fall and so on. They also seem not to work. I'm afraid I feel too much like evil Barbara doing that."
"I can do magic, real magic," Jon simply said. "And I think it is the only way to find your keys."
"
Ljós!" he said, swishing a branch and a small, reddish light rose from the tip of the branch to hover over the path.
"Here, you hold it," Jon said and gave her the branch.
"It is a magic wand, isn't it?" My whispered and accepted the branch.
"Yes it is," Jon said, "just hold it upright and concentrate on the light."
My did, and slowly the light grew a bit brighter, more silvery. "You can do it!" Jon encouraged her. "Now think of the key! Make a picture of it inside your head." My tried to imagine her key, it was old, worn and silvery. It was
her key. And suddenly the ball of light veered to the left and a weak echo of it could be seen under a tree. Jon went over there and quickly picked up the eerily shining key. "Here it is! You found it with magic."
The light faltered and gave out. My sat down on the nearest bench. "Ohh, I am so tired now, and hungry."
"Of course you are," Jon said. "I forgot how tiring magic is. Do you like bananas?" And he pulled a large, perfectly ripe banana from his mailbag.
"More magic?" My asked, warily.
"Nope, a totally normal and mundane banana, magic food is not nourishing, You must know from your tales." Jon smiled broadly, and his teeth shone in the last of the witchlight as he put the wand back in the bag.
My ate the banana, and soon felt well enough for the return journey.
"Don't tell anybody about your magic," Jon warned her. "They won't believe, and maybe trouble will come from it."
"Not even my mother?" My asked. "I do not like keeping secrets from her."
"Did you tell her about the four girls?" Jon asked.
"Yes I did," My said, "but she did not listen very closely. She just told me to not lose my temper ... and now I did."
"I'll come with you home, and do some explaining, I think. You mother need to know. You're right."
Jon sat quietly on a chair while My served tea and made her homework.
When My's mother arrived home, she was shocked to see a strange man sitting in her living room, drinking tea with her daughter, but then My explained about the key, and that Jon had helped her find it.
"And where did you say you found it?" My explained, and her mother sat quietly for a short while. "But it's pitch dark out there!" she protested.
My looked at Jon, as if to say 'I told you so'. And he drew a deep breath. "Sorry Mrs. Birkeland. May I explain. My name is Jon Solstad, and I can do magic. And so can your daughter."
"I suspected it. And I'm Ann," My's mother said. "My's father was the same. He could always find whatever what was lost, if not lost in deep water. I suspected that My inherited the gift ... or is it a curse?"
"It is a gift," Jon answered smiling. "And furthermore I have an offer you cannot resist - or at least I hope so. This summer, during the holidays, we will open a school for magic, and we hope to welcome My as one of the apprentices!"
My jumped up: "Oh mom, can I go. This sounds wonderful!"
"I do not think I would be able to stop you. And if I tried, you'd be pestering me forever!"
My gave her mother a big hug. "Thanks mom! I love you!" She turned to Jon, "And thank you too, Jon."
"I have to leave now," Jon said, but I'll be back. Both as a postman and to pick you up on your first day in magic school!"
My is the youngest of the apprentices, she joins the
potions team, where she is among the best, if not the best, and always willing to help, teach and share. She is a brilliant apprentice all round, only really bad at divinations and chiromancy.
Her wand is long and slender, made from sugar maple, and her sparks are silvery white, often likened to snowflakes.
My will be one of the teachers at Birch Manor.
Ⓐ - Ⓩ
Tomorrow V for Vestegnen, where Sarah Poulsen lives.
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PS. Don't try looking for Uldervik, it does not exist on any map of Norway. It is my misreading of Oldervik near Tromsø. I only noticed yesterday, and I am not going to change it.
