The Adventures of isis-k and the Weird Sisters: 2011

Chapter 1 – in which we meet Ernestina

Around the edges of a very famous church in the north of England, you can see – if you care to look – a multitude of gargoyles: scary stone things, in all shapes and sizes. Sitting there with open mouths and dragon-like features, they spit out rain and ward off evil (even though some of them, quite frankly look gruesome enough to ward off good while they’re at it).

Most people never see them in action, flying around battling ghosts, ghouls and grizzly ghasts, because they only do that during the night, making sure they return to their perches before dawn to do the day job of pretending to be statues.

One such gargoyle, Ernestina, with flared nostrils, shark-like teeth, chihuahua-like ears, heavy eyebrows and big bulgy eyes, was very unhappy in her job. It wasn’t the sitting still during daylight hours she minded – she had been doing that for over 1500 years and was really quite expert at it. It wasn’t that she was scared of ghosts or fed up with eating ghouls for breakfast. No, the thing that bothered Ernestina was that passersby – if they noticed her at all – always called her ‘ugly’.

“Why can’t I be beautiful, like those angels with their nice gold wings, blond tresses and starry halos? Why do I have to be laughed at?” Her many cousins who inhabited various ledges around the church, kept reminding her that to be really good at her job, she had to look scary and most people (ghosts, ghasts and ghouls included) just didn’t find beautiful objects frightening enough. Which just goes to show, her grandfather used to add, how little they’d learned from reading their ‘History of Beautiful, but Evil Creatures’. But none of this was of any consolation to Ernestina, she wanted to be ‘beautiful’, and sat sighing on her ledge gazing with envy at angels, martyrs and virgin Marys depicted in stained glass.

One night, after a brief battle with Guido Le Grand, who was constantly trying to break into the church to steal the alter wine for his spooky spectre shindigs, she spotted an old newspaper in a bin and took it back to her perch to read it. Half way down the front page an advert caught her eye:

‘Treat yourself to the face and body you’ve always wanted. Surprisingly cheap face and body sculpting undertaken by Plastic Pyotr, cut-price private surgeon to the not-so rich and very-nearly famous. Nevsky Street, St Petersberg......’

She was so excited, she nearly fell off her ledge. She showed it to all her cousins...and her grandfather who, unsurprisingly scoffed at the idea:

“What does he know about stone-carving? Bah – ridiculous idea. It’ll come to nothing mark my words”.

Undeterred, Ernestina, decided she was going to set off in search of Plastic Pytor at the very next opportunity and asked all her fellow gargoyles to see if they could get a message to anyone who could help her find him. By now, dawn was breaking and she returned to her usual position, wondering how she would be able to get to sleep for the excitement. She started counting roof-slates, but by the time she’d got to eleven, she had returned to her statue-state.

Chapter 2 – Ernestina in waiting

Poor Ernestina was so excited, she awoke at the crack of dusk, narrowly missing being spotted by two Japanese tourists, who’d been photographing architectural features of the church from every angle and who had very nearly been locked inside by the sexton, who was keen to get home for his dinner. To her great disappointment, no-one had any news to tell her and she settled in for another night of church-sitting. For three nights the same pattern was repeated: Ernestina would awake early, bright-eyed, eager with anticipation and full of hope. And for three nights, she was disappointed and returned, downhearted and dispirited to her perch at dawn.

On the fourth night, she overslept: Guido Le Grand was already half way up the roof before she was awakened, and not by him either. Someone was shaking her shoulders and ruffling her wings

“Ernestina” called a voice in a rather loud whisper, “Wake up”. Ernestina rubbed her eyes and looked around. Standing behind her, was a very beautiful (and slightly cross-eyed) woman, dressed from head to foot in purple – even her long raven-coloured hair, had purple highlights which suggested to Ernestina that she was either one of those Goths who hang around in the graveyard at night listening to loud music or – given the fact that she was two thirds of the way up a church tower – a witch.

“Who...wh...Oh-my-gosh I’ve overslept...has the church been invaded while I was caught off-guard?....Who are you anyway?” Ernestina gasped.

“Don’t worry Ernestina” The lady in purple replied. “I’m just responding to your message. Janka the One-eyed Wonder, Queen of the Bulgarian witches, at your service. I heard you wanted to find my second cousin (twice removed...for his own safety) and I thought I’d help. Though to be honest, I’m not sure he’s very good: my nephew tried it once and his nose very nearly fell off, and Pytor’s always trying to tempt me by sending special offers, but I believe in making the most of what I was born with.”

“But you’re beautiful” Ernestina gushed, “But...”
“Yes I know. I have two eyes, not one and they are slightly crossed, but let’s face it: ‘Janka the boss-eyed beauty’ doesn’t have the same ring to it does it?

Anyway, I can take you to St Petersburg if you like, but someone will have to stand in for you here while we’re gone, have you any ideas?”

Ernestina, who for a moment had been overcome with excitement, was crestfallen, admitting she hadn’t considered that. Fortunately for her, Janka had an idea. She had two daughters known as the Weird Sisters: Mounitchka (600 years old) and Leilitchka (500). They were still novice witches and their spells had a habit of going wrong: like the time when Leilitchka made a potion to turn herself into a bluebird. The plan had been to fly into a jailer’s house to steal the spare key to a cell in London’s Newgate Prison in June 1652 and release the cousin of an old friend who was locked up for stealing a sheep (he claimed the sheep was being ill-treated at the time). All had been going to plan until she realised that the potion had been too diluted and she started turning back into herself while still sitting on the window-ledge. Luckily, she had the key by then and was able to sneak it in while disguised as the prison chaplain, but she never quite lived it down and to this day was still nervous about transmutation. Janka called Leilitchka on her raspberry (every witch’s favourite crystal communication console) and ten minutes later, she was flying around the old church looking like a perfect replica of Ernestina.

“Be careful!” She called out as Ernestina set off. “My magic potion is only strong enough to hold this character for seventy two hours. The clock’s ticking. Goodbye and good luck.”

Chapter 3 – Ernestina’s journey begins

Now everyone knows that it’s a long way from England to Russia – over 1,000 miles as the crow (or gargoyle) flies. I’ve heard aeroplanes can do it in under six hours, (even allowing for stopovers), but that would cost an awful lot of money and gargoyles frankly don’t have the ‘cruising speed’ of aeroplanes and certainly don’t possess that sort of stamina. Fortunately for Ernestina, Janka the One-eyed Wonder (who we can – she assures us, just call Janka) possesses a remarkably hi-tech broomstick, complete with wind-speed calculators and anti-freeze – very important when flying over the North and Baltic Seas. Her plan was to install Ernestina on the back and stop off in Denmark to visit her nephew. The Warlock Mantu for a nice hot drink.

“Don’t be afraid of Mantu” she said to Ernestina as she climbed aboard, “he may seem a tad eccentric, but he’s really very nice. He makes amazing contraptions with pieces of string, corks and violins, but he’s not the most practical of warlocks and they only seem to work for long enough to entertain crowds of teenage wizards for ninety minutes or so. The thing is,” she added “He has promised to provide Pyotr with a magical device for singing patients to sleep and I said, I take it to him as a favour. That way Pyotr may very well agree to see you for nothing. He’s cheap, but not that cheap”.

So they set off across the North Sea and arrived in Denmark (only slightly frozen) in half an hour. The Warlock Mantu furnished them with a warming ‘magyk’ potion, (which Janka suspected may have been brewed by a very old Czech witch sometime before one of that country’s revolutions), the latest in lightweight warm but aerodynamic cloaks and Plastic Pytor’s newly patented music machine. This of course slowed them down somewhat, but undeterred, they set off over the Baltic Sea towards Russia.

The flight was fairly uneventful: a few curious seabirds and a rather nosey ghost of an ancient mariner who seemed determined to have an argument about the virtues of albatross-shooting, but apart from that, the witch and the gargoyle enjoyed a trouble-free flight, landing in St Petersburg at around 11. At this time the streets were crowded with students, tourists and the odd elderly peddler trying to sell illegal potions to the uninitiated who hoped it would make them blend into the background more easily. Amid all this activity, Janka and Ernestina, having carefully hidden the broomstick, were able to disappear with ease, into the throng heading towards Nevsky Prospect, where Pytor’s clinic could be found......nearly.

Chapter 4 - Introducing Plastic Pyotr

Anyone who knows St Petersburg will know that Nevsky Prospect is a very big very wide street lined with impressive buildings: churches, museums, libraries, shops, bars, but not – apparently – Plastic Pyotr’s Place. Nevsky Street on the other hand is on the other side of town in a run-down area full of undesirable characters, a fact which Janka and Ernestina discovered rather later than they should, having questioned a very glamorous-looking fur-coated lady escorted by a not-so-glamorous-looking man.

“Damn that Bat-Nav!” Exclaimed Janka. “We’ll have to hail a taxi”. The cab driver – rather reluctantly agreed to drop them off at Plastic Pyotr’s Place, but only after two large glasses of Janka’s special brew and a blueberry muffin she happened to have in her bag.

Pyotr’s Place was easy to spot: it had an impressive-looking old fashioned door with a large – and frankly out-of-place-looking neon sign above with half the lights flickering in a down-and-out sort of way. With great trepidation, Ernestina rang the doorbell, half expecting a man in a blood-stained butcher’s apron to open it. She was agreeably surprised when it was answered by a very civilised-looking man with beautifully manicured fingernails wearing a clean and smart (though decidedly unfashionable-looking) grey shiny suit.

“Janka!” He exclaimed, “How vunderful to see you my daaahling. You’ve come to take advantage of my two-for-vun offer at last no?” Ernestina, rather upset at being ignored, was hopping from one of her back legs to the other and attempting to blow smoke rings (fire was well beyond her), in an attempt to attract Pyotr’s attention. Janka looked at him coldly:

“No Pyotr. I haven’t had what you with your new-fangled religious ideas call a ‘Damascene’ moment”. At this point – we should add - that her reference to Saul of Tarsus who converted to Christianity on the road to Damascus being a ‘new-fangled’ idea, stems from her following a very much older set of beliefs practised by her forbears for several thousand years, but owing to their refusal to embrace technology such as printing presses, lost to all but a few dedicated practitioners such as herself. “I have brought you a possible client. May I introduce my dear companion Ernestina. Oh and before you start quoting nonsense about special deals, here is the very latest in environmentally friendly total sound-surround patient soothing systems, developed by our mutual and much-loved friend, the Warlock Mantu. Look how lovingly it’s been created before you think about trying to bamboozle young Ernestina here with your talk of special licenses for operating on non-human creatures ok?!” This was the first time Ernestina had seen Janka looking stern and she was just a little bit intimidated: if she had had normal human entrails, they might well have frozen at this point.

Pyotr, with all the easy charm of a television game-show host, laughed very loudly (and unconvincingly) and ushered them into his consulting room, where Olyenka, his receptionist-come-nurse-come-sweeper-upper, brought them some light refreshments and where they settled down to discuss business. Pyotr showed them pages of testimonies from ‘satisfied customers’ and yet more pages of faces and bodies which could be yours for a very reasonable price until Ernestina was quite bewildered by the choice. It had never occurred to her that she might have to change not only her face, but her body as well, in order for it to be a ‘perfect fit’ and as she was sneaking a peek at the prices underneath the photographs, she was starting to panic. Slowly, she was becoming more disconsolate and large watery tears started flowing from her scaly eyes. Pyotr looked at her and for the first time in a very long time, he considered feelings instead of his accountant (who was on a quite large commission)

“Daahlink” He drawled. “I can see that I’m upsetting you and I’m thinking that there is another vay ve can be doing this, vat vith you being practically family. Come” He sat back, shooed Olyenka from the room, closed the door and took a very deep breath. “You vill no doubt have heard of the story of Polyphemus, the Cyclops. No? He vas a one-eyed giant who a famous greek hero called Ulysses destroyed: he had told him his name vas No-Man, so ven the Cyclops called to his brothers telling them No-Man was attacking him, they – naturally – told him to stop bothering them and Ulysses escaped....vell, this Polyphemus had many relatives and vun of them is ruling an island vere I vant to build my holiday home, vich vill also, I am thinking, be a good opportunity for a little business I vant to run on the side.....So, the deal I am offering you is: destroy the Cyclops, and I vill be doing all your operations for free. Vat do you think?” He sat back looking very pleased with himself: getting a non-human to do his dirty deeds for him was the perfect solution to a problem that had been troubling him for some years now. It was a risk-free and if Ernestina failed, who would care about a lost gargoyle (apart maybe from the church sexton)? Pyotr poured himself a large drink and waited for an answer.

Ernestina and Janka asked for a few moments in private to discuss it. Janka was a peaceful kind of witch and didn’t usually go in for killing, especially the mercenary sort which involved people paying others to do their dirty business. However, she had read all the old stories about Cyclops, and had even had a companion whose sisters had been eaten by one off the coast of Sicily, and she wanted to make Ernestina happy, s agreed to accompany her on this quest. Mindful of the fact that they only had three nights in which to accomplish everything – including Ernestina’s operation, they agreed to Pytor’s terms asking only that they could rest for a few hours before setting off.

Chapter 5 - Ernestina’s quest

Now I know what you’re thinking: you’re thinking that Ernestina can only have adventures at night and will turn to stone at dawn, but that’s where you would be wrong. Now that Ernestina was freed from guard duties and had no need to disguise herself as an architectural feature, she was free to continue her escapades at any hour she chose provided, of course, she got back to her post within the seventy two hours granted by Leilitchka’s offer of standing in for her. So armed with this knowledge and – more importantly – the wit, wisdom and general skills of the queen of the Bulgarian witches, she flew off at dawn with Janka in search of Eponymedes, Polyphemus’s little-known relative. It was a long flight from St Petersburg to the obscure and sparsely-populated Greek island of Apomimisi about 1,500 miles in fact and even with Janka’s very flash broomstick, it was nearly midday by the time they reached the island. Hovering above Apomimisi, they could smell cooking and, although hungry, were both extremely nervous of approaching, suspecting that the Cyclops family were feasting on the human inhabitants of the island. They hovered for a moment, before spotting a desolate beach which owing to the lack of shade, had been ignored for centuries. They landed there and had a breakfast of blueberry muffins (Janka always kept a supply of these) and hot chocolate from a perpetually-self-refilling flask Mantu had provided (made from recycled CDs).

“Are you scared?” Janka asked Ernestina as they flew back towards the part of the island from whence the cooking smells had drifted.

“Yes” Ernestina replied, “I haven’t fought giants since about 1763 when we had to repel a particularly nasty invader from Scandinavia. But I think I can do it” Janka had managed – using her crystal tele-reader – to look up the story of the Cyclops on the flight over and they knew that the trick was to spear them in the eye with a burning tree-stump, so they set about locating an easily-fellable tree and lighting a fire without arousing suspicion. This of course was a relatively easy feat for a witch as old as Janka, who used an invisibility shield to hide them from the Cyclops. So – armed with a smouldering tree-spear, they headed towards the Eponymedes hut, and were surprised to hear the sound of giggling. He was reading his three small children a post-lunch-nap-time-story. They stopped in their tracks: this was hardly the sort of behaviour they expected from a fierce one-eyed giant and they were somewhat taken aback and reluctant to strike, so they listened for a while. The story he was reading them was about how the very first Cyclops family and the peaceful existence they used to lead and how they spent every Thursday evening having joke-telling competitions. The giggling was from one of the jokes:

“My dog’s got no nose”

“But how does he smell?”

“Awful”

Janka and Ernestina fell about laughing, so much so in fact that they fell out of the invisibility shield and found themselves rolling on the floor in front of the Cyclops family who looked very disagreeably surprised.

Eponymedes, spotting the smouldering tree stump and remembering the legends, screamed at the children to run inside and fetch the cauldron and did his loudest, most frightening ROOOOAAARRRRRRR

Quick as a flash, Janka whisked out a bottle of freeze-frame, a potion she had perfected some hundred years ago when a group of trainee witches had nearly got run down by a steam engine back during the days of the gold rush (when the Americans were rushing to build trains in the rush to find gold...or rushing to find gold in the rush to build more trains – she could never remember which). Having sprayed it at Eponymedes, she and Ernestina, flew to the top of the highest tree, just out of his reach, but near enough to negotiate. His wife by now had come running from the hut, cauldron in hand to see what was happening, hopeful of finding something interesting to cook for supper that evening. She and Eponymedes, on whom the potion had only worked for 45 seconds, faced the witch and the gargoyle eye to eye to two-eyes to squint-eyes.

“What is the meaning of this?” Olyfeminidia (for that was her name) screamed. “I’ll eat you two for dinner tonight, with fava beans and a nice chianti” and she licked her lips.

“I’m sorry.” Stammered Ernestina. She explained the nature of her mission: how Plastic Pytor wanted land on this island and how he’d asked her to kill the Cyclops in return for making her beautiful and how she’d always been led to believe that Cyclops were mean and evil and she didn’t realise that they could be good parents and tells such funny jokes and, and, and....

“Well that’s just typical isn’t it!” Olyfeminidia scoffed.”Ever since that Homer geezer wrote that story about Polyphemus and Ulysses, we’ve been fair game for everyone. No-one wants to hear our side of the story: how we’re peace-loving one-eyed giants who just want to be left alone to raise kids on our little islands, away from the prying two-eyes of humankind with their fancy weapons and alien ways. No-one cares about us” And as she said this, both she and her husband shed huge pond-sized tears, which threatened to flood that part of the island and sent many a small creature scuttling in search of higher ground.

Janka and Ernestina were in fact both on the verge of tears themselves and looked at each other somewhat shame-facedly.

“Look.” Said Janka. “I’m a reasonable sort of witch and I have no argument with either yourselves or Plastic Pytor. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement. Aren’t you Ernestina?” Ernestina nodded her head earnestly “Now personally I think it’s both safer and easier if we continue to negotiate from up her if that’s alright with you” She added looking at the Cyclops.

So they came to an agreement that Pytor could build his home to the east of the island if he promised not to hunt any one-eyed giants and if, in return for their generosity, he would agree to minister to the Cyclops when they were sick...and not to offer to make them look more beautiful in the human sense of the word. Ernestina, who was busy drafting the agreement using a special crystal pen while the conversation was carried back to Pyotr using Janka’s raspberry, was thoroughly enjoying playing the part of peacemaking go-between and feeling very pleased with herself.

“Henceforth,” proclaimed Eponymedes “you shall be known as Ernestina the Peacemaker and you will be welcome on this island any time. Now come and spend the rest of the day and evening with us.” And they retired into the Cyclops hut for much merriment, storytelling and dancing, before retiring to bed early that night.

Chapter 6 Ernestina’s journey’s end

The next morning, fond farewells were said and much kissing of one-eyed babies and other offspring was done before Ernestina and Janka flew back to St Petersburg. On the way back, the two of them discussed both the past and the future with Janka offering to re-negotiate with Plastic Pytor for Ernestina’s operation. They arrived at Pytor’s place around two in the afternoon which as Pytor pointed out was rather cutting it fine if Ernestina was expecting a new face and body in time to fly back to England.

“Don’t fret.” Ernestina declared, firmly but calmly. “I’ve made a decision. I don’t need to change the way I look: the Cyclops are happy being one-eyed giants, Janka is happy being a one-eyed wonder (which still sounds better than boss-eyed beauty) and I am happy being plain old Ernestina, the ugly old gargoyle, defender of a very old and important building and Peacemaker between Man and Cyclops. Who cares what I look like?” At that Janka cried with joy and embraced her while Plastic Pytor looked dismayed.

“Well good for you, he uttered. But I hope this doesn’t catch on – I’d go out of business!” He bade the two of them farewell and they headed off back to England to relieve Leilitchka. Just as they were crossing the North Sea, a fluorescent green broomstick nearly crashed into them. It was Mounitchka, the older of the two Weird Sisters.

“I heard you needed a baby-sitter, and I’ve come to offer my services” she called out. The other two just laughed:

“You’re nearly seventy-two hours late” They said in unison and the three of them headed back together to Ernestina’s church just in time for dusk. As you can imagine, much gossip had to be gossiped and news to be told and that night the few ghouls, ghosts and ghasts that dared venture near the church were repulsed with more than usual gusto, before Janka, the One-eyed Wonder and the two Weird Sisters: Mounitchka and Leilitchka said their fondest farewells at dawn.

And so Ernestina the Peacemaker settled back into her new old life as a gargoyle on a very famous church in the north of England, and if you look very carefully at the dragon-like gargoyle with flared nostrils, shark-like teeth, chihuahua-like ears, heavy eyebrows and big bulgy eyes, about two thirds of the way up this church, you will – if you look very closely, see just the hint of a self-satisfied smile.

The Adventures of isis-k and the Weird Sisters

Thursday 8 December 2011

Further sallies

Saturday 26 November 2011

Further sorties from the broom cupboard

Saturday 12 November 2011

The Adventures of isis-k and the Weird Sisters: Confessions of a Librarian

Confessions of a Librarian

Ernestina's Adventure

About Me