Harold (Harry) Frances Kelly was fifteen years old when the fields welcomed him.
His family owned a farm just south of Faith, South Dakota called Middle Creek Farm. Over 3000 acres of land was grassland and hay, for the thirty cows that his father had. He went to school but hated it, knowing he was going to be inheriting the farm, but really wanting to give it to his brother, Montague.
The oldest in a family of six, he was expected to be the mentor of the rest of the family. He was a daydreamer, always gazing out the window to the fields beyond, even in school. However he did well in school, to the amazement of his teachers.
Harry was never happier than among the cows in the field, ignoring the patties even as he stepped among them, always coming home smelling of dirt and animal dung. As he got older, he would sneak out at night, and run out to the middle of the fields. Eventually he got the bright idea to strip down to nothing and stand there in the light of the moon, or lie down among the grass.
It was one of these nights, where he lay in the grass, naked, that he felt the grass moving. It slowly, almost as if a lover’s caress, grew and wrapped itself around him. He didn’t feel afraid, but felt comforted, as it crossed his chest and kept him down, sinking into the soil.
The feeling of pure peace came over him. He felt welcomed in the field. He smelled fresh grass, the flowers of the field, the patchouli smell of the dirt under him. He could have lay there all night. But as the moon set the grasses released him.
From then, he did some research. There was a nature religion out there called Paganism, or Wicca. There wasn’t much information available in the libraries, since the majority of the people were Roman Catholic. He had to get most of his information through books on inter-library loan and watch re-runs of Charmed.
When he was sixteen, a new girl arrived in town. She wore dark clothes, painted her face white, and called herself Lilith. She also wore a bright pentacle on a thong around her neck. He knew what that pentacle meant.
Because of her strangeness, she was often singled out and insulted by the other girls. Harry was told by his father to try out for the football team, which he did and was able to get on the squad. However, even though the jocks usually went after the cheerleaders, he was strangely attracted to Black Lilith. He snuck glances at her in class often. He wanted to be with her.
Resolved, he cast his first spell one full moon night,skyclad out in the field. He knew he couldn’t make her love him, but he could ask the Powers to give him the right situation to present itself, so she would listen to him. At release of the spell, the grasses all around him went flat, as if a stiff breeze blew. He didn’t feel it, but the grasses moved back toward him and twisted around his legs, as if to hug them.
The next day, at first period, they were split up into pairs for debating. He found himself with Black Lilith. Their side was for gun control. He personally wasn’t for it – he knew how to use a shotgun and his father had an assortment of rifles in the house. When he sat down next to Lilith, she looked up at him with almost dead eyes. He tried to be cheerful, “Hi, I’m Harry.”
“Lilith,” she said, and stared at his offered hand as if it was a dead fish.
He took it back awkwardly. “Let’s get this over with,” she continued, and gathered her books.
They had three days to come up with their argument. They spent study hall together, and did get together after school. By the second day, though, she was opening up. She was looking at him, and talking to him. She made her points with some animation.
The third day, and she was sitting next to him in the library. She was warm, her leg close to his, something she hadn’t done yet. He was feeling hot.
“I think you should do the talking,” she said. “You have a stronger voice with more emotion than me.”
“Shouldn’t you do the talking? You’re neutral.”
She frowned. “I’m not good at public speaking.”
“That’s what this exercise is all about.”
“Hrm, I’ll think about it.”
Finally, Harry could bear it no longer. He asked, “Is that a pentacle?” He pointed to her chest.
She stopped for a moment and stared at him. “Are you..?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t feel right telling her about how the grass and earth embraced him.
“I’m a pagan,” she said quietly.
Then they started talking about esbats and sabbats, what they did on the full moon. She belonged to an actual coven, and said she’d ask her High Priest if he could come along on the full moon.
They passed the debate well enough, and a week went by. He would make a point to talk to her, but as time went on she seemed to grow distant. Then she walked by him in the hallway and dropped a note onto his books. It was an address, a date, and a time.
It would have been a day after the full moon, so he could still perform his own ritual in the fields on the full moon night. He had something special planned.
He went out into the field with a small gardening shovel. He went to his usual spot, and called the quarters. Then he looked up to the moon. As he did, he envisioned what he wanted to go, and he quickly gained an erection.
“I want to give you back what you have given to me,” he said, and parted the grass at his feet. He dug a small hole in the earth. He lay down on top of the hole, so that his penis could fit in the hole.
Then, to his surprise, the hole grew tight and squeezed him. He moaned, and began to instinctively thrust into the earth. It didn’t take him long at all, as he gave his essence to the goddess that had welcomed him, and that he so dearly loved. The grasses welcomed him, and, again, he felt at peace and fell asleep.
Luckily, he woke up just as the horizon began to brighten. He gathered his clothes and put them on hurriedly, running back to the house. He decided to look like he was actually doing something, by taking the cows out of the barn. He saw his father coming out of the house, a cup of coffee in his hands, watching Harry lead out the cows.
He smiled as he walked by his father, who merely looked at him strangely.
The next night, he took the car and went to the address specified at the time specified. He knocked on the door, and a tall man in what looked like a smoking jacket stood there. “Oh, you must be Harry. Lil’s told us all about you. Come in, come in.”
He went inside. New age music came from a stereo system, and the house was full of people in flowing robes. He felt a bit underdressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He saw Lilith at the other side of the room. A man about college age had his arm around her, and would sometimes bend down to kiss her slender neck or turn her head for a kiss.
He burned. He could feel fire in his belly, fire of pure anger. He wasn’t paying attention to anything going on anymore.
The man he deduced was the High Priest thrust a robe at him and said he could change. “You don’t have to go skyclad unless you want to.”
He didn’t want to. They moved to the living room, the new age music shut down, and began the rite using simple Gardnerian methods. Then, a woman and a man stepped out from the group and disrobed. Others also disrobed. They both began performing the Great Rite, where the man invokes the goddess into the woman, and the woman invokes the god into the man. Then they had sex, right in the middle of the circle.
The circle broke moments later, and people paired off. An older woman gave Harry a seductive smile, but he ran off, gathered his clothes, and took off.
He never spent another full moon with them again.
He got a call the next day. “I’m sorry I scared you,” said a woman’s voice. “Can I make it up to you and get you a cup of coffee?”
“How did you get this number?” he asked.
“Magic,” she said, and laughed. “Lil, actually.”
He met up with her at a Starbucks. There, she looked entirely different. She was dressed professionally, in a skirt and heels, and she got herself a sugar-free latte (“I’m diabetic.”). “I’m Marina. I’m a witch.”
He sat back, shocked.
“So are you, but you don’t know it yet.” She smiled at him. “You have such a strong aura, I know your Avatar has awakened.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
“Your Avatar, your guide. You have the capability for magic, and you have the guide. You’re following it naturally. That coven is bullshit, but it’s unfortunately the only game in town.”
He smiled a little, and sipped his green tea.
“Your nature is connected to the Mother, to Gaia. I can smell the earth from you. You smell like fresh grass to me. I can help you,” she said, leaning forward. “We are witches, pagans, worshippers of the old ways. We use talismans and wands, staves and rods, tarot cards and nature – and we fight against those who wish to hurt the world, and we fight with those who wish to assist Her to be free again.”
She glanced at the plant behind her. “You can bring life,” she touched the plant’s leaf. He watched as it branched out, sending more leaves into the air. “You can bring death.” She touched one of the leaves and it turned brown, then fell from the plant onto the floor, not touching the rest of the plant.
“Will you come with me?”
He stared, and something surged in him. He wanted to learn this, not for the power, but to bring life…and death. His body seemed to sing and respond before his voice said clearly, “Yes.”
Words: 1773
Inspiration: Verbena tradition book, 1st edition. Sex scene, a vague mention I read somewhere about the Celtic king allegedly doing this in the fields as part of a ritual.
Music: Ushas, e.s. Posthumus